#right now i��ve just been ghosting her

[br0kenangel]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐌𝐲 𝐝♡ve 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Unhinged Aegon x Therapist Reader part 2

Summary: after your last session with Aegon, you always feel him behind your back, when you were at home you could feel him here. And when your next session come, everything just got worse...

Warning: dead animals, just a little sex scene, minors DNI.

˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language and I wrote this at 2 AM alone in the home. So I'm sorry if it's not good, I was scared and I couldn't think. Hope you enjoy!

PART 1, PART 3, PART 4

That night, sleep came slowly to Y/N. The room felt colder than usual, the darkness pressing in from all sides. Every creak of the floorboards, every gust of wind against the window sent her heart racing. She pulled the blankets tighter around her, trying to convince herself that Aegon’s words had just been that—a mind game, an attempt to unsettle her. But the weight of his gaze from earlier lingered like a ghost in the room.

He didn’t actually watch me, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut. He was just trying to freak me out, trying to get into my head. That’s what he does.

But as soon as she closed her eyes, she imagined him standing outside her window, staring in at her with that unsettling intensity. She quickly opened them again, staring at the window across from her bed. The curtains fluttered slightly in the breeze, and for a moment, her mind played tricks on her, imagining a shadow behind them.

There’s no one there, she repeated to herself. He’s not here. He can’t be here.

She forced herself to roll over, turning her back to the window. But that only made her feel more vulnerable. What if he was watching her now, right behind her? She cursed under her breath, her skin prickling with the sense of being observed.

He’s not here. You’re safe. He just wanted to mess with you. That’s all.

But the thought looped in her head, becoming harder to shake. Every sound in the house became magnified—the creak of the pipes, the hum of the fridge, the rustle of leaves outside. Everything felt threatening. She tried focusing on her breathing, counting each inhale and exhale, forcing her mind to calm.

You’re a professional, she reminded herself, staring at the faint light coming through the crack in the curtains. You’ve dealt with difficult clients before. He’s no different.

But deep down, she knew Aegon was different. He was more than difficult—he was dangerous, unpredictable. The way he looked at her, the way he spoke about that dove, about watching her through the window... it was unsettling in a way that no other client had ever been. And that was what made it so hard to shake.

Hours passed before she finally drifted into a restless sleep, her mind plagued by half-formed dreams of shadows and cold eyes staring through the night.

The next morning, she walked to her office with a persistent unease in her chest. The street felt too quiet, and she found herself glancing over her shoulder every few steps, expecting to see Aegon trailing behind her. But there was no one. Just the usual early morning foot traffic—people heading to work, students with their heads buried in their phones.

He’s not here, she told herself again, quickening her pace. He’s not following you. You’re just being paranoid.

But every time she turned a corner, her heart leapt into her throat, expecting to catch a glimpse of his familiar figure. She tried to shake off the paranoia, but it clung to her like a second skin.

When she finally reached her office building, she sighed in relief, stepping quickly inside. The familiar scent of the lobby, the hum of the elevator, the bright, sterile lighting—everything felt like a small refuge from the gnawing anxiety that had been following her all morning.

But the moment she stepped into her office and closed the door, the unease returned. Her eyes immediately darted to the window, checking for any sign of movement outside. There was nothing—just the trees swaying gently in the breeze, the distant sound of traffic.

He’s not watching you, she reminded herself for what felt like the hundredth time. He’s just trying to scare you, and it’s working. Don’t let him get to you.

But even as she tried to focus on her work, her mind kept wandering back to Aegon. His strange, possessive words about the dove. The way he described wanting to clip its wings, to keep it trapped and close. It echoed in her head, too close to how he might feel about her. She shuddered at the thought, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached for her coffee.

Later, as the day turned to evening and she walked home, the unease intensified. The shadows stretched longer, darker, and with every step, she felt like someone was just a few paces behind her. She forced herself to keep walking, telling herself not to look back.

He’s not there, she repeated, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. It’s just your imagination. He’s not following you.

But the urge to turn around became too much. She quickly glanced over her shoulder, her breath catching in her throat.

No one. The street behind her was empty, save for a few distant cars and pedestrians.

Her heart raced as she turned back, walking faster now, nearly breaking into a jog. She couldn’t shake the feeling, no matter how hard she tried. The shadows felt alive, watching her, waiting for her to let her guard down. And it was getting harder and harder to convince herself that it was just paranoia.

When she finally reached her apartment, she slammed the door shut behind her, locking it quickly. Her hands were shaking as she leaned against the door, trying to calm her breathing.

It’s over. You’re home. He’s not here. You’re safe.

But even as she said the words, she didn’t fully believe them. Every creak of the apartment, every shadow cast by the dim evening light seemed to take on a new, more sinister meaning. She jumped at the slightest movement, her nerves frayed beyond reason.

As she sat down on the couch, she glanced at the window, half-expecting to see Aegon’s face staring back at her from the street below. But it was empty, just the soft glow of streetlights outside.

He’s not watching you, she repeated to herself, her voice barely a whisper. He’s not watching you.

But the creeping feeling of being observed refused to leave, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that somewhere, somehow, Aegon was watching—waiting for the right moment to make his next move.

A week had passed since their last session, but it felt like months to Y/N. Every day, her unease grew, festering like a wound that refused to heal. The feeling of being watched never fully left her; shadows felt longer, eyes sharper. No matter how much she told herself it was just in her head, there was always a faint whisper of doubt in the back of her mind.

Now, sitting in her office once again, facing the man who had been haunting her thoughts, she forced herself to breathe. Aegon was different today. His usual agitation, the relentless tapping of his leg and biting of his nails, was absent. Instead, he sat eerily still, his eyes fixed on the wall to her left, as if he was watching something that she couldn’t see. His lips moved faintly, a soft, tuneless whisper escaping them. She strained her ears to catch it but could only make out fragments of sound—a hum, almost like a lullaby.

The silence in the room felt thick, oppressive, and she had to fight the urge to shift in her seat, to break the suffocating quiet.

I have to ask, she told herself, steeling her nerves. You have to confront him about last week. You can’t let him think he can do whatever he wants.

She took a deep breath and spoke, trying to keep her voice calm, even though her heart was pounding in her chest. "Aegon, last time we spoke, you mentioned something… odd. You said I looked good last night… in my pajamas." Her voice faltered slightly at the memory, but she forced herself to continue. "I need to ask, what did you mean by that?"

Aegon didn’t respond. He didn’t even seem to hear her. His eyes remained glued to the wall, his lips still moving faintly, whispering that strange song to himself. His hands rested on his knees, the skin pale and bruised, nails ragged from relentless chewing.

"Aegon?" she pressed, her voice tightening as her nerves frayed. "What did you mean?"

He stopped humming, but his gaze remained unfocused, distant, as if he were somewhere far away. After what felt like an eternity of silence, he finally spoke, his voice flat, devoid of any emotion. "Sunfyre died this week."

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. "Your… your cat?"

Aegon nodded slowly, still staring at the wall. "He was my only friend. The only one who understood." His voice was monotone, lifeless, as though the words were being dragged out of him.

"I’m… I’m sorry to hear that," Y/N said cautiously, watching his expression for any sign of reaction. But there was nothing. His face remained blank, his eyes never leaving the invisible point on the wall.

"He was beautiful," Aegon continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "Golden fur. Like the sun. That’s why I called him Sunfyre. He was always warm. Always there."

Y/N swallowed hard, unsure how to respond. There was something deeply unsettling about the way Aegon spoke—as if he was detached from the world around him, floating somewhere she couldn’t reach.

"And now," he murmured, his voice taking on a strange, almost dreamy quality, "he’s gone. And there’s just… noises." He finally blinked, but his gaze remained distant, as if the room had become too small for him. "The noises never stop."

"What… what noises?" Y/N asked cautiously, her fingers gripping the armrests of her chair, trying to steady herself. Something in the pit of her stomach twisted.

"Them," Aegon replied vaguely, tilting his head slightly as if listening for something. "The whispers. The sounds in the walls. They’re everywhere now, you know? After Sunfyre… they got louder. He used to keep them away, but now there’s nothing. Just them. Always talking. Always laughing." His face twitched for the briefest moment, as if suppressing a shiver.

Y/N’s heart started to race again, an icy chill creeping down her spine. "Aegon… have you… have you spoken to anyone about these noises? Has this been happening for a long time?"

"They’ve always been there," he said in the same flat, detached voice. "But it’s worse now. It’s like they’re closer. Watching me all the time. Telling me things." His eyes, still glued to the wall, seemed to glaze over. "I try not to listen, but sometimes… sometimes they make sense."

Her throat felt dry, but she forced herself to ask, "What do they tell you?"

Aegon’s lips curled into a slow, unsettling smile. It was the first time he’d smiled since he entered the room, and it was chilling. "They tell me the truth. About everything. About you."

Her blood ran cold at his words, her mind racing as she tried to keep her expression neutral. "What… what do you mean, Aegon?"

"They tell me how beautiful you are," he whispered, his eyes still locked on that invisible point on the wall. "How you care about me. How you don’t want me to leave. They tell me how you wear that soft panty to bed. The one with the little flowers on it."

Her heart stopped. How does he know? How?

She felt light-headed, her vision blurring at the edges as panic surged through her veins. "Aegon… how do you know what I wear?"

He didn’t answer. Instead, he tilted his head again, listening, as though someone was whispering in his ear. Then, with an eerie calmness, he said, "The voices see everything."

Y/N’s hands trembled as she gripped the chair tighter. "Aegon, I need you to focus. What do you mean the voices see everything?"

"They watch. They’re always watching," he replied, finally turning his head to face her, his gaze locking onto hers. His eyes were wide, unblinking, and filled with a strange, manic intensity that made her heart lurch in fear. "Just like I do. Just like I watch."

The room suddenly felt much smaller, the walls closing in around her. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to run, to leave, but her legs felt frozen in place.

"Sunfyre used to keep them away," Aegon continued, his voice a low murmur now. "But he’s gone. Now there’s just me. And you."

She couldn’t speak. Her chest tightened, her thoughts a jumble of fear and confusion. She had to end the session. She had to get out.

But before she could move, the clock on the wall chimed, signaling the end of their time.

Aegon stood up slowly, still smiling, his eyes never leaving her. "I’ll see you next week," he said softly, his voice dripping with a sickening sweetness.

And with that, he walked out of the room, leaving Y/N sitting in her chair, frozen in place, the echoes of his words reverberating in her mind.

The voices see everything.

The second Aegon left her office, she felt the walls pressing in, the whispers of doubt clawing at her. She packed up quickly, her hands trembling as she stuffed her notebook into her bag and threw on her coat. All she wanted—needed—was to get out.

By the time she reached her apartment, her fingers shook as she fumbled with her keys, her heart still hammering in her chest. As soon as she was inside, she slammed the door shut and bolted it, leaning her back against the wood as she tried to steady her breathing.

It’s just in your head, she told herself, her voice shaky and uncertain. He’s just a patient. He’s just trying to get under your skin. He’s not watching you… he’s not.

But the fear lingered. His words replayed in her mind, twisting around her thoughts like a poison.

With trembling hands, she pulled out her phone and dialed the number she knew by heart. It only took two rings before she heard the familiar voice on the other end.

“Hey, babe,” her boyfriend, Jacob, answered. His tone light and warm. “Everything okay?”

“No…” Y/N’s voice broke as the word slipped out. “Can you come over? Please. I—I need you.”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be right there.”

The next twenty minutes felt like an eternity. She paced around her apartment, trying to shake off the weight pressing down on her chest. She kept checking the windows, the corners of the room, every shadow stretching a little too far, every creak of the floorboards making her jump.

When the knock finally came, she practically ran to the door. As soon as she opened it, she fell into his arms, her body trembling with the weight of it all.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Jacob murmured, holding her tightly. His hand gently stroked her hair as he guided her back inside, shutting the door behind them. “I’m here. What happened?”

She pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “It’s… it’s Aegon. My patient. He—he said these things and I don’t know, it’s just… he knows things, things he shouldn’t know.”

Her voice broke as she recounted the details, her words spilling out in a frantic rush. She told him everything—Aegon’s strange behavior, his fixation, the way he talked about her. The voices. The watching.

Jacob listened, his face calm and reassuring as he nodded. “Babe, I think you’re just stressed. This guy… he’s messing with you because he knows it’ll get to you.”

“I don’t know…” she whispered, wiping at her eyes. “It felt so real.”

“I know, I know it did.” He pulled her close, resting his chin on the top of her head. “But you’re letting him get in your head. He’s trying to make you scared, but you can’t let him win, okay?”

She nodded against his chest, her tears soaking into his shirt. “You’re right. You’re right… it’s just in my head.”

“That’s all it is,” he said softly, his hands running soothingly down her back. “Just some creepy guy trying to push your buttons. But you’re stronger than that. You can handle it.”

His calm, rational voice slowly chipped away at the terror inside her. She breathed deeply, letting herself believe his words, clinging to them like a lifeline. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I needed that.”

“I’m here,” he whispered back, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Always.”

The tension in her chest began to unravel as she melted into his embrace. Slowly, the fear that had gripped her all week loosened its hold. He was right. Aegon was just trying to get under her skin. Nothing more.

He pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on her shoulders. “How about we forget all about this guy, huh? Let’s just relax.”

She nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Yeah… yeah, that sounds good.”

Without another word, he took her hand and led her toward the bathroom. The warm steam from the shower enveloped them as they stepped inside, the water cascading over their skin, washing away the remnants of the day’s tension.

He pulled her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. She responded, her hands sliding up his chest, the heat of the water matching the growing warmth between them. His touch was gentle but sure, his hands slowly roaming over her body as he deepened the kiss.

In that moment, the world outside didn’t matter. Not Aegon, not the fear, not the shadows that had haunted her all week. There was only him, the steady reassurance of his presence.

As they moved to the bed, their wet skin still warm from the shower, he kissed her neck, his hands sliding between her legs, slowly caressing her. She gasped softly, her body responding to the comfort and distraction he offered.

He kissed her deeply, and as his hands roamed over her, she closed her eyes, letting herself forget everything. For just a moment, she let herself believe that everything was okay.

The weight of Jacob's arm draped over her gave Y/N a sense of temporary calm, her mind finally lulled into a fragile state of rest after the events of the week. The sheets clung to their bodies, still damp from the shared heat, their limbs intertwined in a way that made her feel, for the first time in days, safe. Protected.

But that safety shattered in an instant.

A loud crash from the other side of the apartment jolted them awake. The sound of breaking glass ripped through the silence like a scream, sharp and sudden. Y/N shot up in bed, her heart pounding so fast it felt like it would burst out of her chest. Her boyfriend sat up beside her, his hand instinctively reaching for her.

"What the hell was that?" he whispered, his voice low, urgent.

"IーI don't know," Y/N stammered, already pulling the blanket around her naked body, her hands trembling as she clutched the fabric tightly. Fear crawled up her spine like a cold hand, squeezing her chest. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

Jacob swung his legs over the side of the bed, grabbing a nearby lamp as a makeshift weapon. "Stay behind me," he said, his voice grim as he stood, leading the way out of the bedroom.

They crept down the hallway, the air thick with tension, their breaths shallow and uneven. The soft click of the floorboards under their feet was deafening in the oppressive silence that followed the crash. Y/N tightened the blanket around her, the fabric dragging across the floor as she followed behind, her senses on high alert, every shadow on the walls seeming to twist and warp into something sinister.

The moment they stepped into the living room, the metallic tang of blood hit her like a punch to the gut. She froze.

"Oh my God..." her boyfriend whispered, the words barely audible, as his gaze swept over the scene before them.

Doves. Dead doves, strewn across the floor like discarded dolls. Their once-beautiful white feathers were soaked in blood, their delicate wings from their bodies, limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Some of them were headless, their necks bent at grotesque angles, the floor slick with their blood. Their wings were now broken, shredded, discarded in small, crumpled heaps.

The smell was overwhelming, suffocating. The stench of death and blood filled the air, thick and coppery, clinging to their skin like a second layer. Y/N gagged, one hand flying to her mouth as bile rose in her throat. Her eyes were wide with horror as she stared at the carnage before her.

It wasn't just the doves.

The walls were splattered with blood- thick, dark red streaks of it, smeared in long, jagged lines. Words. Horrible, terrifying words written in the blood of the doves.

"MINE"

"LEAVE"

"ALWAYS WATCHING"

The writing was erratic, desperate, the letters dripping down the walls like some kind of twisted arning. The word “MINE" was repeated over and over again, sometimes scrawled so large it stretched from floor to ceiling, other times tiny, scratched into the plaster as if done by someone who had lost control.

The words clawed at her brain, a primal panic bubbling up from the depths of her mind. They weren't just words-they were a threat, a message, twisted and dark, filled with rage. Her chest tightened, her breath coming in shallow gasps as her eyes scanned the room, wild and terrified.

"What the fuck.." her boyfriend whispered, his voice trembling now, his grip tightening around the lamp. "What the fuck is this?"

Y/N's legs were shaking, her knees threatening to buckle beneath her as she stumbled backward. Her eyes darted to the window, and that's when she saw him.

A figure in the shadows, standing just outside the glass, watching her.

Aegon.

His pale, hollow face was half-hidden by the darkness, but his eyes一those wild, burning eyes一were locked onto hers, unblinking. There was something feral in the way he stood, the way his lips twisted into a sickening smile as he stared at her, his head tilted at a strange, unnatural angle, like a predator stalking its prey.

She opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out. Her throat was dry, her voice stolen by the sheer terror of the moment. Her body felt frozen, paralyzed, unable to move, unable to breathe.

Her boyfriend's voice cut through the fog of her panic. "What is it? What do you see?"

She tore her eyes away from the window, grabbing his arm with trembling hands. "He's here" she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. "He's outside... it's him..."

Her boyfriend whipped his head toward the window, but by the time he looked, Aegon was gone. The shadowy figure had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving nothing but the echo of his presence behind.

"I don't see anything," he said, his voice laced with confusion andfear. “There's no one there."

"No-no, I saw him!" Y/N insisted, her voice rising with hysteria. "He was there! I swear to God, he was right there, watching us!"

He pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her as she trembled violently. "It's okay, it's okay. We'll call the cops. Someone broke in, this... this is some fucked-up shit, but we'll figure it out. He's not here anymore."

She nodded weakly, her mind spinning with confusion and terror. Her eyes kept darting back to the window, expecting to see those cold, unblinking eyes staring back at her. But the space was empty now, just an expanse of darkness and the dull glow of streetlights outside.

Jacob pulled out his phone and dialed the police, his voice low and urgent as he explained the situation. Y/N barely heard him, her thoughts swirling in a chaotic whirlwind of fear and disbelief.

The words on the walls seemed to pulse in the corner of her vision, the blood dripping down in slow, thick rivulets: MINE. LEAVE.

Her stomach twisted into knots, her entire body shaking as she collapsed into the nearest chair, her legs giving out beneath her. The doves lay scattered around her feet, their lifeless eyes staring up at her, empty and soulless.

She couldn't escape it.

No matter how hard she tried to convince herself it wasn't real, that Aegon wasn't capable of such madness, the truth was there-painted in blood across her walls.

This wasn't just in her head. This was real. Too real.

“There’s not much we can do without evidence,” one of the officers had said, his voice neutral but with an edge of doubt. “But we can check on him, just to ease your mind.”

And so, at 3 AM, Y/N, Jacob, and the two officers found themselves standing outside the grand Targaryen estate. The imposing house loomed before them, bathed in the glow of the moon, its towering facade as cold and uninviting as the man who lived inside. Y/N’s heart was pounding in her chest, her skin crawling with unease as they rang the bell.

It didn’t take long for the door to open.

Alicent stood in the doorway, her face pinched with confusion and irritation, her robe wrapped tightly around her. She looked from the officers to Y/N and her boyfriend, then back again. Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Officers," Alicent greeted politely, though her voice held an edge of irritation. "May I help you?"

Y/N’s voice shook as she stepped forward. “It’s Aegon. He’s been stalking me—he came to my apartment tonight. He left… dead birds everywhere, and he wrote on the walls with blood. He’s been following me. Watching me.”

“I’m sorry, but what is this about?” Alicent’s eyes flicked between Y/N, her boyfriend, and the officers. “This must be a misunderstanding.”

“No, it’s not a misunderstanding!” Y/N yelled, her voice breaking as tears welled up in her eyes. “He broke into my apartment. There were doves—dead doves—and blood… He’s been following me, watching me! He’s dangerous!”

Her boyfriend squeezed her hand gently, trying to pull her back, but she yanked away, pointing toward the door. “You have to believe me! Aegon is sick—he needs to be locked up! He’s not right in the head!”

Alicent’s face hardened. “That’s impossible. Aegon’s been here all night.”

The officers exchanged uneasy glances, unsure how to proceed.

Alicent’s eyes flicked to the officers, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “My son would never do something like that. He’s not… unwell. He’s just dealing with some personal things.”

Y/N’s heart hammered against her ribcage as rage and fear bubbled inside her, her voice rising as she lost control. “He’s a fucking psycho, and he’s trying to ruin my life! He’s stalking me, and you’re just covering for him!”

“Ma’am,” one of the officers cut in, stepping forward to intervene, “let’s all remain calm. We’re here to investigate, but we need to speak to Aegon himself.”

At that moment, the sound of footsteps echoed down the grand staircase.

Aegon appeared, descending slowly, rubbing his eyes as though he had just woken from a peaceful slumber. He wore a loose-fitting T-shirt and pajama pants, his blonde hair mussed, his expression calm, and his movements casual, almost lazy. He looked nothing like the manic, disturbed man Y/N had seen just hours before.

“Is everything alright?” Aegon asked, his voice quiet, soft, laced with concern. His eyes scanned the group, lingering on Y/N for a moment before turning to the officers. “What’s going on?”

Y/N felt a wave of nausea wash over her. How could he look so normal? She knew what he was—she had seen him, heard his madness—but now, he was playing the part of the innocent. She could feel herself unraveling, her emotions spilling out uncontrollably.

Her blood boiled at the sight of his calm, innocent facade. He wasn’t the same Aegon she had sat across from in therapy—the one who whispered disturbing things and stared at her with dark, empty eyes. This Aegon seemed so harmless, almost apologetic, as if none of the horrors from earlier could be traced back to him.

"Do you know this woman, sir?" one of the officers asked, gesturing to Y/N, who was on the verge of collapsing under the weight of it all.

Aegon blinked slowly, his expression softening into something almost pitiful. “Yes, she's…my therapist," he said, his voice low and even, a hint of sadness laced into his words. "But…I'm not really sure why she’s here.”

One of the officers stepped forward. “Sir, we’re here following a report. This woman has made some serious claims about your involvement in an incident tonight. We just need to ask you a few questions.”

Aegon’s face contorted into an expression of confusion, concern knitting his brow as he blinked at the officers. “I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he said, his voice even, smooth. “I’ve been here all night. I haven’t left the house.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, her eyes going wide. “What? No—no, don’t act like this! You know exactly what you did, Aegon! You’ve been following me! You were in my apartment tonight! I saw you!”

Aegon shook his head slowly, his eyes filled with what looked like genuine confusion. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I was home all night. I would never do something like that.” He turned to the officers. “I’ve been going through a hard time. I recently…broke up with my girlfriend, and I started seeing Y/N to help me deal with the depression. But…I don’t know where all of this is coming from.”

“He’s lying!” Y/N screamed, stepping forward, her whole body shaking with anger. “He’s making it all up! He’s dangerous—he’s not the person you think he is!”

Aegon didn’t flinch. Instead, he stepped closer to the officers, his face calm, composed, but his voice took on a vulnerable tone. “I think… I think maybe she’s upset because I didn’t reciprocate her feelings.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in horror. “What the fuck are you talking about? That’s not true!”

Aegon glanced at the officers, feigning embarrassment. “She…she made some advances during our sessions. I told her that it wasn’t appropriate, but I think she may have misinterpreted our relationship. Maybe she’s just mad that I didn’t…you know, return her feelings.”

Y/N’s world spun. The rage and helplessness surged inside her like a storm, the bile rising in her throat. “That’s a lie! You’re lying! You need to stop lying!” She lunged forward, her hands reaching for Aegon in a desperate attempt to stop him from spinning the truth any further, but her boyfriend grabbed her, pulling her back.

“Stop it, Y/N!” he pleaded, holding her tightly as she fought to break free. “Just stop!”

Aegon’s face twisted into something almost sad. “I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin her reputation, but…I’m worried about her. I think she’s struggling with some personal issues, and that’s why she’s saying all of this.”

The officers looked back at Y/N, their expressions unreadable, but she could feel their judgment. It was like a weight pressing down on her chest, suffocating her. They didn’t believe her. No one believed her.

“You’re fucking sick!” Y/N screamed, her voice cracking as tears streamed down her face. “You should be in a mental hospital! You—” She was hysterical now, her words a broken mess of sobs and fury. “You did this! You—”

“Ma’am, we need you to calm down,” one of the officers said sternly, stepping between her and Aegon. “We’ll handle this, but we need you to calm down.”

“I’m telling the truth!” Y/N cried, her voice raw and desperate. “He’s dangerous! He’s going to hurt me! He’s—”

But no one was listening. Not her boyfriend, not the police, and certainly not Alicent, who stood behind her son, a look of quiet satisfaction on her face as she watched the scene unfold.

Aegon rubbed his eyes again, stifling a yawn as if all of this was just an inconvenience, just a bad dream he would soon wake from. “I just want to go back to bed,” he said softly, looking at the officers with pleading eyes. “I promise I’m not who she says I am. I just…I just want to move on.”

The officers nodded, exchanging a glance before turning back to Y/N.

“I think it’s best if we leave now, ma’am,” one of them said gently, but firmly. “We’ll follow up on this, but…for now, you should go home and try to get some rest.”

Y/N’s heart sank. She had lost. She had been defeated by his lies, by his calm demeanor, by the illusion of normalcy he had created.

Her boyfriend wrapped an arm around her, guiding her back toward the door. Her legs felt like lead, her body drained of all strength, her mind clouded with fear. But as they stepped outside, she turned back for one last look at Aegon.

And that’s when she saw it.

His eyes were wide now, bright and burning with a terrifying intensity. He stared at her, unblinking, a slow, twisted smile creeping onto his lips. And then, with a single finger pressed against his lips, he made a silent gesture.

Shhh...

@ 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒆𝒃𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔.

[diaryofaprettyprincess]

stepdad!ghost x crybaby!girly!reader where he yells at her n it scares her cuz his voice is so deep n booming n she immediately starts crying. it all starts when he’s stressed because of a ton of paperwork he has to get done by that night and he hasn’t been able to because of different things that keep popping up. on top of that, he has to watch over you because your mom is out of town for a few weeks doing god know what.

so it’s safe to say he’s beyond stressed.

it all comes crashing down when you come skipping into his at-home office, a dvd in your hand for a movie he had promised you two would watch that day—before he was emailed a ton of paperwork.

you skip over to him, a small, “what’re you doin?” leaving your lips quietly as you peer over his shoulder.

he knows you just want attention right now, and god, does he want to give it to you.

but he can’t right now, and unfortunately for you, you don’t realize it.

he replies to your question with a gruff, “paperwork.” as he rubs his temple with his index and middle.

“oh.” your reply is short, and you look down at the dvd in hand sadly. “thought we were gonna watch a movie?”

simon tries to ignore the disappointment in your voice, because he knows he would immediately drop everything for you, but he just can’t.

“i know, love, but ‘ve got so much shit to do..what about tomorrow?” he asks, now watching u walk around to the front of his desk as you lean forward on it with your hands planted on the hardwood.

“tha’s what u said yesterday..” you pout, and simon can feel his irritability building in his blood. he doesn’t want to take any of his stress out on you, but if you push further, he’s worried he might.

“i know, princess. ‘m sorry, okay? i promise we will do it tomorrow.” he is now shuffling through his work.

you hate when he isn’t paying attention to you.

your eyes burn as you begin to feel tears sprout to them.

“si..” you squeak, trying to express that you feel lonely—what, with your mom being out all of the time. however, simon seemingly ignores you, too lost in his work. trying to get his attention, you call him what you know will achieve that. “daddy, can u take a break? please?” you beg, fidgeting with the dvd case. ghost’s heart squeezes in his chest at the nickname.

he mentally shakes his head. he has to focus.

“y/n, i already gave you my answer.” he speaks, his voice edging on pure annoyance.

“b-but you promised me! you always have somethin’ more important than me!” you’re fully crying now, and simon genuinely feels bad, but he just has so much to do.

he sighs, standing up to grab a pen from the coffee table. you follow behind him, crying.

“why’re you ignorin me?” you sob, and ghost rolls his eyes. he knows if he doesn’t look at you he won’t give in.

“y/n, stop.” he spits, walking back to his desk and hunching over to sign something.

you continue blubbering nonsense until— “enough! fuckin’ christ!”

his eyes burn into yours until he sees your utter hurt and he’s immediately back-tracking.

“angel..” he says softly right before you run off, and he begins to follow until you slam your bedroom door in his face. “fuck.” he sighs, exhausted.

he knows he scared you. he’s never yelled at you like that before.

he can hear your muffled, hiccuping cries, and he rests his forehead against your door—eyes shut tightly.

he tries your door handle but it’s locked. he knows you need time to decompress right now, so he reluctantly goes back to work for another hour before checking on you.

“princess?” he knocks on your door, and he can hear the movie you two were supposed to watch playing on the tv in your room. “let me in, baby.”

he can hear the sound of you getting off of your bed, then the clicking of the door unlocking. you run immediately back to your pink bed, whimpering like a puppy out of fright.

simon sighs for what seems like the 20th time that day, sitting down on your mattress. his large hand rubbing over the expanse of your back slowly.

“sweet’art, lookat me,” he speaks softly. “didn’t mean ta scare you..’m sorry. jus’ was stressed, baby.”

you turn your head, and he can see the reddening of your puffy eyes from crying so much.

“awh, angel,” he kisses the top of your head, brushing the hair away from your face. “can you forgive me?”

his voice is so soft and gentle you want to cry some more.

you nod, chewing on your lower lip. simon’s jaw ticks as he traces his thumb over the slope of your nose and down to the cupids bow of your soft lips. “sweetest girl ever, y’know that?” he asks, and his heart flutters when you giggle.

he leans forward and gently places a small kiss on your lips.

JANDKD IDK IF I LIKE THIS BUT WHATEVER

[1980shorrorfilm]

every road i know

click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.

pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader

in which…ellie thought it was time to solidify your relationship. she might have been wrong.

before you read…inspired by the strangers, minus the killing n stuff. modern day fic. angst with comfort <3

the autumn night is silent, save for the occasional creak of the old miller’s cabin settling into its nighttime routine. you listen to the wind whistling outside, through the tall pines surrounding the small wooden home. 

it’s a lonely town, the nearest house a few miles down the road, something vastly different from your shared apartment in the city. 

ellie started bringing you here after joel had let it collect endless dust and cobwebs, the woman cleaning it all up for you. whenever life got too busy, chaotic, or hard, this way your getaway. peace. just you and her and the nature that surrounded you.

now, it feels as though it’s purgatory. 

the fireplace flickers softly, its glow dancing on the wooden walls, but the warmth couldn’t seem to comfort you. not right now. ellie sits in front of the flames, her silhouette outlined by the orange gentle light.

she has yet to utter a single word to you. the car ride here was silent. even the radio on mute, because ellie couldn’t find the simple strength to turn it up.

the moment is replaying in her mind, over and over, the sad smile you had given her burned into her memory. the thing she’s had anxiety about for the past month. proposing, to you.

the dark velvet box holding the special ring, now lying on the coffee table beside her. a stark reminder of the event.

you’re sat on the couch, chewing your lip, a rose petal in your hand. it’s soft, you find yourself stroking the smooth flower. they cover, nearly, the whole cabin. ellie had thrown the petals around before you had arrived together, trying to make it appear as romantic as possible. 

it’s not her strong suit, her appreciation toward you shown in much different ways than typical lovey-dovey things you see on television, but tonight it felt right. long candles garnish whatever surface she could put them on, yellow and smelling like vanilla. they’re not lit. 

she assumed she’d spark them when you came back from the long day you had. one that started with your favorite breakfast, ellie waking up extra early to make it as perfect as she could. and she did, you made sure to compliment her repeatedly.

then she took you downtown, viewing places you rarely visited, spending more time admiring you than the other pretty views. what occupied most of your time, was going to a museum she took you to on your first date, reminiscing on how awkward you two were compared to now.

she swears that’s her favorite place, and not just because she’s a nerd, because she now associates it with you. 

ellie had took you out to dinner, to your favorite restaurant, hardly eating and claiming she just wasn’t hungry. that was a lie, she just didn’t think she could keep food down. her nerves were washing over her, multiplying when you had finished, and you took a walk near the river, beneath the red trees that blew softly above you.

you had felt her pause in place, holding her warm hand, and you thought maybe the tie had come undone on her sneakers. she had washed them the day prior until her fingers pruned, you found it odd for ellie but didn’t say anything. but that wasn’t the problem. she stared at you like she saw a ghost, and it worried you.

you almost thought this was the end, she was about to tell you those four dreaded words. we need to break up. oh, the idea terrorizes you. that, however, also wasn’t it.

she had whispered inaudible words to herself, then mumbling ‘okay, okay, okay.’

you thought the woman was breaking before you, concern in your eyes, holding her hand tight. then she gulped, trying to get out the rehearsed words that seemed to vanish the longer she stood in your presence. 

how much you mean to her. from the very moment you two got paired up for a project that she insisted she’d do all the work for, but you fought back, finding yourself in her bedroom the entire week, the girl studying you more than the work laid out before her.

she found herself by your side all the time afterward.

she needed to be by your side. 

she doesn’t know how she lived before you, and if she could live without you— no, insisting she could not live with you. she simply wouldn’t have the will. waking up to a bed you didn’t occupy, not hearing your genuine laughter to her most idiotic jokes, not being able to hold you when you experienced the hardest day of your life.

she couldn’t have that. she needs this…you and her, to last forever. so, she asked those four words that you weren’t prepared for. will you marry me?

to which, you didn’t say yes.

you couldn’t. you love ellie, more than you could ever put into words, you swear on your life that you do, and it didn’t at all reflect your feelings for her. you were just…paralyzed. by fear, uncertainty, and the weight of expectations that you couldn’t hold up to for her. every single insecurity, hitting you at once, in the worst moment it possibly could.

you had said her name in a weak whisper, and ellie gulped, realizing what was happening. a tear slipped from your eye, that she quickly wiped away, reassuring you it was okay. that you’re okay. putting you before her, a habit of hers. bits of her broken heart being blown away in the cool wind that hits you, while she cradles yours. 

you walked to the car together in silence, a suffocating fog. a silence that seemed to last forever.

the tension between you two is almost palpable, both of your minds are currently a whirlwind of heavy emotions. a gentle crackle of the fire and ellie shifting in place, makes you finally turn your attention to her. “ellie,” you say her name softly, voice strained as you finally break the unbearable quiet. “can we talk?”

her gaze remains on the fiery flames, her shoulders tense. “we don’t have to,” she replies quietly, “i get it.”

“i don’t think you do,” you lowly say, heart aching at the mere thought of all the negativity running through her precious head, doubts about herself and your relationship. that’s the last thing you could ever want.

ellie swallows thickly, “it doesn’t matter.”

you watch her get up, turning her back to you as she leaves the room. your eyes trail her to the kitchen before you follow her. she doesn’t glance at you as you lean against the nearby counter, watching her grab an expensive champagne bottle. 

you assume she bought it just for tonight, she wouldn’t drink it any other time. she won’t even touch a glass of wine. she pops it open, pouring it into one of the two glasses beside it. “i don’t…” you begin to say as she hovers over the other glass, ellie nodding in response. you’re afraid if you drink it you’ll throw up all the nerves inside your system. 

“i got your favorite ice cream…if you want that instead,” ellie mentions, tapping her finger on the glass, “went to like…3 different stores. couldn’t find the brand you like.”

she ends the sentence with an attempt at a laugh, finding it so silly now. all the effort, for what? humiliation? pity? she sips on the disgusting drink like it would make her feel better. the only other thing that helps her in trying times, is you; and that’s not exactly possible in this scenario.

“do you…” she pauses, staring at the liquid as she swirls it around, “do you want this…us?”

“of course i do,” you answer her without hesitation, taking a step closer to her, but still out of reach. “it’s not that, ellie,” you tell her, trying to figure out how to inform her it’s you and not her, without sounding like a poor cliche overused excuse. 

“it’s just…we’re young…im scared you’re making a mistake,” your voice wavers near the end, ashamed to admit such a thing, that you are her mistake. ellie looks at you like you just spit in her face. she doesn’t know how to interpret the comment, she slightly feels insulted that you would think that she’s making a ‘mistake.’ 

this isn’t putting a shirt on inside out. this isn’t forgetting to turn the light off when you leave a room. it’s not tripping over your step. it’s her committing herself to you, after five beautiful years attached to you, something she wants hundreds more years of, if that were possible. nothing about that is a mistake.

you’re the love of her life. cementing that is not a fucking mistake. 

“is that how you feel?” she flips the script, putting the spotlight on you, feeling like you’re burning beneath it at the accusation. “what?” you whisper, “n-no…no ellie.”

you can’t read her expression, she’s swallowing the rest of her drink, blankly staring ahead. 

she ignores your response, “i’ll drive us home in the morning. you should get some sleep.”

she turns away, placing her glass carefully in the sink, resting there for a moment. your eyes are boring into the back of her head as if you could read the thoughts inside it. so many bad thoughts. 

you push yourself forward, taking a few quiet steps to her. you plant your feet behind her, wrapping your arms around her body. her breathing is slow, her figure painfully stiff, hugging a tree and not your person. so solid despite the endless embraces where she would melt into you.

you murmur her name, holding her tighter. 

ellie can’t resist you.

her hands reach for yours, resting against the center of her torso. her fingers brush against you softly, her breath hitching slightly, before letting out a sigh she’s held in for hours. 

just for this moment, the tension settles beneath the old floorboards of the cabin, giving you air to breathe instead of holding in. your hug is so tender, ellie could be lured to sleep by it. and her body is so warm, you’d rather die than pull away.

you wish it could last forever, and the hours prior could be forgotten. 

then her phone rings from her back pocket, vibrating against you, and she shifts. you let go, biting your lip, watching her fish the device out. joel. assumingly calling to congratulate her. ellie wishes she never told him, because fuck, this is going to be awkward. 

“i uh…should take this,” she whispers, not sparing you a glance when she walks away. you hear the front door open, then shut. you can’t help but walk back into the living room, standing before the window and peeking at ellie, who sat on the porch steps. 

you can’t see her face, her head down, a glow from a cigarette, and grey smoke surrounding her figure. it’s clearly not a happy conversation, there was no sugarcoating what had happened. it pains you. 

you turn back around, following the rose petals that scattered the floor, all the way down the hall, and stopping at the bathroom. you open the door, turning the light on, eyes falling on the several small candles on the edges of the bathtub. red, grey, and purple, they decorated the space. 

ellie really tried to make tonight special.

you stand idly, taking a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, staring at yourself with shame. a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, knowing it did something so drastic, that the only person they love, finds it hard to look at them. 

you quickly turn away. 

you run the bath and wait, tugging your top and pants off, kicking them to the side. you strip naked when it fills up completely, steam radiating from the water. you step in, adjusting to the high temperature, before sinking into it. it almost burns you, but not in a way that you mind. you just don’t care right now. 

ellie is the only thing on your mind. you wonder if she’s talking about you, openly questioning where your relationship lies, if she thinks it’s even going to last after today. 

before you know it, a single tear is falling down your face.

you hug your knees, turning your head and laying your cheek against them. you stare out the open bathroom door, to the wood paneled wall, a framed photo of a deer hung on it.

you forget to blink, spacing out, not noticing the creaking of the front door or the floor. not until ellie is within your view, pausing in the doorway, looking down at you. you’re crying to yourself.

her expression softens, not saying anything when she joins you, kneeling beside the bathtub and touching your face. her thumbs wipe the salty tears from beneath your eyes, but they don’t stop. 

“i’m scared, ellie,” you say just above a whisper, ellie only hears you because of how quiet the cabin is. besides the repetitive dripping from the sink. “i’m gonna fail you…” you continue, your voice now giving up on you, “scared’m gonna ruin this…ruin us…you’re so good, ellie— i just —i couldn’t say yes.”

you choke into a sob, her green eyes now glistening with unshed tears. “oh baby,” she says so softly, giving you the time to process your emotions, to let the tears fall while she holds you. 

“i can’t…” she stops, gulping and sighing, “i can’t change what you think…but i can promise you that nothing could ever change my mind about you.”

her grip on you is firm, reaffirming, as she continues to speak, “we can wait…i’m willing to wait forever for you. i will show you no matter what happens, i will still love you— i will always love you. i just needed…need you to know that.”

very faintly, your lips twitch upwards slightly, ellie mirroring you the moment she notices. “you’re enough for me,” she says, “just you. that’s all i want.”

ellie is, unfortunately, right; it doesn’t change the tainted mindset you have. that, however, has nothing to do with her. you don’t doubt the things she tells you, you’ve never felt more love from someone in your whole life, and you know for a fact that you never will.

and that’s why it brings you relief, to listen to her, understanding her point of view rather than your own, and the cruel demon on your shoulder whispering harsh words into your ear. 

ellie williams is the angel. 

it’s not the first time she’s eased the anxiety taunting you, and it will not be the last. she will always be there, rain or shine, you pushing her away or letting her in. she truly means what she says. you’re enough for her. and soon, you will accept that for yourself.

“i really want to hug you right now.”

ellie chuckles, a lightness in the air as she gets up, grabbing a beige towel. you stand, letting her wrap it around you, shivering at the coolness in the air. not caring about the water droplets still coating your body, ellie’s arms are quickly around you, her palm on the back of your head, cradling it gently.

you instantly feel warm again, at peace.

after the moment of serenity ends, ellie is leading you to the bedroom. she grabs your pajamas from your still-packed bag, letting you put them on while she does the same. your eyes fall on her pale back, watching her throw a white tee on, looking away when she turns her head at you. 

“was thinking about leaving at 8…wanna beat the traffic,” she says, hoping the statement doesn’t go back to making things awkward. just in case, she adds, “can stop at that pancake place you love.”

you can’t ignore the glum undertones of the suggestion, but you still give her a smile, barely modding your head.

you sit in bed, ellie exiting the room to turn off every light in the lonely cabin, leaving you with your thoughts. you hate it. thinking about how happy the two of you were coming here, compared to you leaving. you don’t even want to leave. you want to shut out the rest of the world, but more importantly, your mind.

how differently things would be right now, if you could just do that.

your eyes meet hers when she enters the room again, and you debate what you’re about to ask her. you can’t help it. “can i see it?”

“hm?” “the ring.”

ellie looks at you, freezing for a moment, stuttering, “y-yea…sure.”

again, she exits the room, grabbing the velvet small box on the table, the one she avoided even sparing a glance at just a minute ago. then she jogs back, scratching the back of her neck. she’s nervous as she approaches you, placing it in your open hands, like it’s a baby. 

it’s the first time you’re getting a decent look at it, having been unable to observe it during the moment, and it’s beautiful. it’s simple, yet the green sapphire is so elegant, resembling the way ellie’s eyes look beneath the sun. you smile at it. 

“i…can’t return it…if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“i’m not,” you tell her, “it’s gorgeous, ellie.”

you don’t want to give it back to her. it feels…so right, in your possession, that you can’t help but nervously slide it down your finger. there’s a bittersweet smile on your face at how perfect it is. how when you look at it, ellie is the first thing to come to your mind. 

your lover, for eternity. your lover that swears to you, that your need for her is as mutual as her need for you, no matter the circumstances, it is permanent. that your worries are just that. worries— self-doubt, and bitter thoughts about yourself, that are only present in the moment. they won't last forever. not like you and her.

with hesitance, you take it off, avoiding her gaze when you give it back to her. “i’ll be ready,” you promise, your finger oddly feeling so lonely despite only wearing it for a minute. “i will…i will be,” you find yourself mumbling, ellie getting closer and grabbing your hands.

“hey, i meant what i said,” her thumbs stroke your skin, reminding you once more, “i can wait forever for you.”

and she means it.

[pastlivesxpastlie]

I see in a different light...the object of my desire

what happens when you accidentally text Bestfriend!Vessel instead of your Tinder hook up?

Tags/CW/Head's Up: vessel x you, fem gendered language, brief dubcon, briefly jealous!vessel and possessive!vessel, sending nudes, verbal teasing, spanking, cunnilingus, prone-bone, smut interrupted by fluff then back to smut, barely revised argue with the wall, fuck boys mentioned

MDNI 18+

it's one of those nights where nothing is going your way. you're still fuming about getting ghosted on tinder earlier this week. things were going so well and if *insert douchey fuck boy name* hadn't gone radio silent, you'd probably be going down on him right now! it's been entirely too long since you've had sex, let alone received some kind of non-platonic male attention. that's why you joined tinder this past month, even though your best friend, Vessel's, voice echoed in your ear saying...

Plenty of men want you! I don't get why you don't see it. You don't need the apps, just get out of your head. 

wow. so helpful. thank you, sir. you rolled your eyes when he said that as you edited your profile. if he's so good at noticing when other guys were checking you out, why did he never point them out? or was he just being nice?

at any rate, you feel cheated out of a fun night with a hot guy and want to make him feel sorry. so, you do what any sane, horny girl would do--send him a nude. you don't show everything right away. not you. never. you took the selfie so quickly you didn't have time to feel shame.

You put your PJs on and start to make yourself a little snack when you hear your text tone. Hah. Finally! He’s back in your messaging…groveling. pleading. Another ding. HAH! You must have really got him.

Vessel: Send another one xx 

5 minutes earlier

Vessel was tempted to pull an all nighter. He knew if he just put in a liiiiiitle more work, this melody would be golden and maybe he could pat himself on the back. Right as he was about to rage quit....ding ding. Very very few people's texts are allowed to bypass his DND settings...except for his best friend.

you: this could be yours, you know?

Vessel nearly dropped his phone as he made sense of the picture in front him. It only showed her lips down to her soft tummy, but he knew it was her. This wasn't some weird spam text masquerading as his dearest friend. She looked angelic. Dreamy. Delicious. Her free hand covered her breasts...her lips in a flirty smirk as she lightly bit her plush bottom lip. Vessel knew she was beautiful. Aren't all women beautiful, though? Surely every man feels his head cave in and his stomach clench with butterflies when his best female friend is near. Right…?

"Fuuuuuuuucccccck" he intoned, letting his hand drift down to his crotch to try and calm himself. He shook his head and repeated himself, putting down the phone. More than likely that text wasn't meant for him. There was no way. His face burned. His cock throbbed between his legs as he felt these strange, lustful stirrings for his best friend. What the fuck was wrong with him? The track he was working on quickly became the least important thing in the world…his frustrations slipping away as soon as his zipper was undone.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck? How did you click on Vessel’s name instead of *insert douchey fuck boy name*?! They aren’t even close in spelling…oh…but they’re close on your “Recents” list. And now your hastiness and inattention has lead to you receiving a flirty response from your best friend who has been nothing short of a little brother to you.

You: OMG VES I AM SO SORRY!!! I didn’t mean to send that to you. FML. You: It was supposed to go to this guy from Tinder. Let’s just delete the thread and put this behind us, yeah?

...

It’s been 20 minutes. No response. Your stomach is in knots from the unknown. It’s really late…maybe he fell asleep. Maybe he was just kidding? Yes. That’s it. He was drunk and messing about and then passed out. That will help you sleep…just keep telling yourself…

Knock knock knock 

There have been two times now that you wish the tinder fuck boy was here. First time was when you were so horny you couldn’t see straight after your shower, and the second time was now, as someone knocked on your door at 1:30 AM. *ding ding*

Vessel: hun, come on. It’s me. 

Christ. What is this? You get off your bed and peer through the peep hole. Sure enough, it’s Ves in a hoodie and sweats, looking cuddly and kissable and WAIT. No no no no. Get it together. He probably just wants to hang out to show you that nude incident doesn’t change anything. 

“Well hello there young man, does your mother know you’re not in bed?” You say with a dry laugh as you open the door.

Vessel walks right past you into your place. You close the door behind you and lean your back against it. 

“Have I repulsed you into silence, hm?” 

Your normally boyish, quiet, sarcastic best friend looks practically ravenous as his eyes trail down your body. Now he knows what you look like naked, and the sight of you clothed right now borders on sacrilege. He takes a step forward. His doe eyes, which still brim with charm and platonic affection, bore into you as he grasps your chin with his hand.

“How cruel…to dangle such a tasty treat in front of me and then not take a compliment and act like this was such a terrible oversight on your part,” he growls.

“And which compliment are you referring to?”

He pulls you by the chin enough so that your back is off the door, though you’re certain he will just pin you back against it when he sees fit. This is not your closest friend. This is a man possessed. 

“Stop playing dumb, it’s beneath you. I asked you to send another immediately after receiving the first. Is that not a compliment? That I’m not merely satisfied with one image. I could have you in countless ways…I need to know what that would look like. Do you really want me to take you on your back every time? Always with your arm covering your tits like that? Hm?”

Your inhales are sharp gasps now as the butterflies in your tummy churn to get out. You’ve never seen him like this…never seen him as a prospective lover…never seen him horny even…but this…wait…wait why is he…

He gently chuckles and presses you back against the door, shaking his head and stepping away. 

“Oh my god…” he chuckles, “the look on your face. I really had you going, eh?”

You scoff, laughing in disbelief. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You say shaking your head and walking towards your kitchen. Just fall into the old routine. Get your usual drinks and plop on the couch for shit tv. You don’t make it far and suddenly you’re being pulled backwards by your sleep shorts. 

“This is what the fuck is wrong with me.” His hands keep your hips still as he presses his bulge against you. “You’ve ruined me. You have actually ruined my perception of you.”

“Tsk,” you try to wriggle from his grip but he ends up clasping you in a tight bear hug from behind, “slut shaming me now?”

“You sweet, silly, little wanker….shaming?” God it was weird to hear his playful nickname for you as he gently grinds against you. The resolve you worked so hard to build is dissolving as your head falls against his shoulder and allow him to knead your hips and stomach. He continues in hot, breathy whispers, “babydoll…I encourage it…as long it’s saved for me. Can you do that? Hm? Can you promise to only share that with me?”

Now your body betrays you and you grind back into him. 

“You’re no better than me. Look at you,” he says he plants soft, needy kisses on your neck. “You want this, don’t you? Please…please tell me you feel it too.” His grip is no longer firm. It’s hard. You're able to snake one of your hands up and behind his neck…you’re desperate to touch him anywhere at this point. 

“I…I feel it…”

Suddenly you’re being steered towards your bedroom. Ves is strong, perhaps not enough to hoist you up and throw you on bed, but he enthusiasm is evident when you’re pushed on the bed on your stomach. Immediately he’s out of his hoodie and his warm, bare torso presses against your back. He’s clinging to you from behind and letting his hands roam under your shirt. 

You let out a breathy moan and chuckle. “So you liked what you saw?”

“Mmmmmph,” He lets out gruffly as he gently bites your shoulder and licks the indentions from his pearly whites. 

You let out another moan but with a cackle now. “Oh ew. Sorry that wasn’t hot.”

He leans up and gives you a swift smack on your plush ass. “I’m realizing now that everything about you is hot.” But you don’t feel him touch you anymore. You roll over and look up at him. He sighs. 

“Ves, you ok? Did I do something wrong?”

“No…no…I just…kind of dropped back into my body. What are we doing?”

You smirk sadly. What are you two doing?

“We can stop if you want. Just talk. Whatever you want.” You sit up and caress his arm feeling the warmth and texture of his skin as if for the first time. He looks at you softly.

“Please don’t take my…enthusiasm…as some kind of…I don’t know…disregard for you. I’d…I’d do anything to be on the receiving end of those texts…I realize that now. It’s not just sex I want. It’s not just…your body. Don’t get me wrong…it tempts me beyond belief…now that I’ve seen it. But I get it now.”

You smile softly and maybe even proudly as he soothes your fears. As much as you would have loved to be prone-boned a minute ago, you were scared it was only because of the newness and craziness of the situation. “Get what, Ves?”

“Why I feel the need to do this.” And with that he presses deep kiss into your plump lips. His hand slips down shyly to your collar bone as your hand tangles in his hair. 

You let him undress you. Of course, he had just seen you practically naked. But here you were…in the flesh before him. You two spent a considerable just touching…caressing...tasting. But it became frenzied again after you let your hand mindlessly trail down your body to rub your clit. It wasn’t long before you found yourself folded in half with his face between your legs. His tongue flicking and massaging your clit as you squeal and buck your hips against him. His strong arms keep you still for the most part, but you don’t know what to do with your hands. First they’re on your tits…then the back of his head…twisted in his hair. He gives in and sticks his tongue out to let you grind against it. With your hand holding his hair tightly, your hips grind against his precious face. You look down…met with those same doe eyes. As if you weren’t mewling and blubbering enough…that little shit chuckles dryly and presses two fingers into your hot pussy. 

“Ffffffuuuuuccckkkk you. Oh my GOD,” you groan as you reach your climax. The white-hot knot in your tummy unfurls and your folds ache with pleasure as he presses your insides firmly and watches you reverently. “Holy fuck…ok…fuck…get off me now,” you say quickly because otherwise you’ll be completely overstimulated. He backs off immediately. What a good boy. His chest heaves up and down as he looks at you. You suddenly feel very small. Vulnerable with your soft belly and pussy exposed to him. What’s the worst that could happen…letting your best friend rut into you?

“You’re on birth control, yeah?”

You nod. Your IUD was still good for two more years. But you half-think you’d give him whatever he wanted, even if it meant being risky and stupid. He takes your legs firmly and pulls you down to him. He pats your clit with his heavy cock a few times. You shudder. 

“How long’s it been, love? Hm?” You don’t even want to answer. He caresses your cheek and moves to press himself inside you. Your body clenches as his thick cock stretches you. “Oh…oh it’s been awhile. Poor, little love. Let me fix it…let me make it better.”

As soon as he starts fucking you, you’re moaning his name and clasping his forearms. Your soft body jiggles in little waves as he presses into you with a gentle, patience force.

“Fucking hell…” he moans as he moves his hands. One settles on your ribs under your breast while the other collapses and lazily circles the top of your head. He leans down to kiss you…your taste still on his lips. 

Despite being so worked up, he keeps his wits about him and is able to fuck you without completely blowing his load in his new favorite place— your heavenly, warm, pussy. 

“God…god…such a pretty girl,” he whispers huskily. “My pretty girl is so good at taking cock. How did you get so good at taking cock, hm? You’re so good. So pretty.”

You can’t take it. You pull him in and make out with him roughly. All the feelings and thoughts you’d repressed flow out of you via your mouth and hips rubbing against him pathetically. He holds you impossibly close as he whines in your neck. 

“Babydolll….mmm…my little doll… stay still…stay still for me.”

Suddenly he flips you onto your stomach. An impressive feat given he was just balls deep in you. He pulls your hips up like he owns you and presses back into your pussy. He immediately whimpers pathetically. You’re desperate to throw it back but he gives your bottom a swift spank. 

“I said be still.” 

And with a hand firmly between your shoulder blades and another on your lower back, he drills into you until he’s shaking and blubbering about how he’s cumming inside you…how there’s no one like you…how you’re made for him…

The next morning, you wake up with Ves draped across your chest, snoring softly. You pet his hair softly and rub the sleep from your eyes as you check your phone. Hmm. Three missed calls and a string of pathetic texts from *insert douchey fuck boy name* acting like he never ghosted you in the first place. You toss your phone to the foot of the bed and curl up to Ves, who groggily wakes up as your kiss his head.

“Mine.” He says holding you close. 

“Mine.” You respond…groggy…sore…and lovesick.

[romanarose]

The Ghost of You

Banner by my dear @commonmisery

Ghost!Joel Miller x fem!reader

TLOU 2 SPOILERS AHEAD! YOU"VE BEEN WARNED!

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Summary: After moving into Jackson, you're put up in a house that hasn't been lived in for years. Soon, you realize you aren't alone. Can you help Joel move on to the next life to be with his daughter? Or will you keep him here selfishly with you?

Warnings: TLOU 2 SPOILERS, ghost!sex, mentions of violence and the things Joels done and what happened to him. bittersweet ending. Body marking and blood but it v consensual. It's loving.

A/N: This is my goodbye to writing Joel. I've made a few statements on thi before and if you've followed me for a while you know why. I won't rehash it. But I wanted to write this idea I had talking to @multiversed-daydreamer as my goodbye. i won't say it my last joel forever but it is for along time. all other series are cancelled. I am also just largely essening my writing for p-boys but I'll still be around witing frankie and javi and marcus sometimes. You never know. My main focus rn is logan howlett, triple frontier, and my original content

This is my love letter to the Joel fandom that has given me so much love and friendship

Looking for something similar? Brother by @macfrog is Tommy saying goodbye, and The Devil's Wife is devil!Joel, similar theme of halloween by @noxturnalnymph

8.5 words

It was cold. That was annoying. How you’d wandered your fucking way out to Wyoming, you’ll never understand. One minute you were in Florida complaining about the heat, now you were being treated for frostbite in your toes.

You’d arrived in Jackson last afternoon, nearly frozen to death and had been crashing in the clinic bed ever since. The doctor, a nice older man, took care of you and a few nurses checked in overnight, and today you were cleared to get settled. Word of mouth had told you Jackson was the place to go, a safe haven, a community where people actually take care of each other. Maria Miller, the town founder, had just left your room saying she’d be outside doing paperwork whenever you were ready for the short tour. You’d get the full spiel eventually, but right now the frostbite made walking a little hard. She'd just show you her office, the mess hall, a few quick essentials and then take your to your new home.

That was when you heard shouting outside the door. One voice was Maria, the other you didn’t recognize. It was hard to hear, but you listened in with your ear pressed to the door. 

“It’s been 3 years Tommy. I know this is difficult for you but-”

“You don’t know shit!”

“Excuse me? Who was there for you when you drowned your feelings in moonshine for years? Who took care of Walker while you went off on pointless revenge missions!”

“Don’t you bring him into this. Don’t fucking do that shit, Maria, you know I had too.”

A beat of silence. “You had to do whatever you had to do to deal with what happened. We forgive you, we took you back here and the whole town in glad for it. But Tommy… Jackson is growing. We need the space-”

“You never fucking liked him! You never wanted him around! I bet you’re glad-”

The shouting began to overlap each other, voices raising until you were uncomfortable enough with the man’s temper you grabbed your gun and opened the door, pointing it at him.

“Settle down there, cowboy. Ain’t nice to yell at a lady.”

*

The next few minutes were embarrassing, to say the least. Maria explained that Tommy was her ex-husband. She didn’t go into the argument, but she assured you, not without gratitude, that firstly she could handle herself, and second that Tommy wasn’t a threat.

After Tommy left with a pointed ‘fuck you’ in your direction, you turn back to find Maria rolling her eyes. 

“He’s a good man. I promise. Good dad, works hard, takes care of his people. He just gets… well, there’s some sore spots. C’mon let’s get you home. I bet you’re tired.”

Settled into the house that felt way too big for just you, your thoughts drift to the man. He was older, 50’s maybe? Dark brown hair with a few streaks of gray and tired lines around his eyes, but handsome. He was so angry, and angry at you. What the hell did you do? You hadn’t even been here a day! Fucking unreal. Men were men no matter where you went, but their temper tantrums never ceased to amaze you. 

The house was pretty empty. You’d been given a few furnishings, but the house was stripped of all character, certainly taking apart everything the previous owner had. Had the place been occupied since the world fell apart? Or had someone who lived here died? You wondered how. You wondered if they had family, or if the town was their family. 

The kitchen had kindly been stocked up pretty well, and you’d been given some toiletries so after eating, you enjoyed your first warm bath in a long time. Running water, and it was warm? Fantestic. You boiled a pan of water and tossed it into the tub for some extra heat just how you liked it.

In bed that night, that’s when things got weird. You felt a coldness wash over your body, a shiver you didn’t expect under the warm blankets. Then the window unlatched and flew open. You gasp, fearful at first, but then justify that since it’s on springs, the latch must’ve been not done right and just sprung open. No big deal. But then you felt a hand on your cheek and you froze.

It didn’t linger more than a second. The touch was fluid, but not wind, not air. There was a roughness to it, the distinct feeling of a large hand cupping your face… but you weren’t scared. Instead, you felt calmed. Relaxed.

It became routine, after a few weeks, you refused to go to sleep until you felt it, the touch of warmth on your face, and you felt safe. It didn’t take long for you to believe you had a ghost; after the cordyceps, ghosts were never far from disbelief, something you’d always been open to, but the question was who.

That would be answered soon enough. You could just ask, yeah, but you wanted to find out, in their own words. As the days progressed, you’d been given time to recover and adjust before working, so you spent a lot of time settling into your house. This was not without its encounters with the ghost. More and more, they seemed to get stronger, able to do more, communicate more. There were items shuffled around, bigger and bigger until the couch was moved.

“I don’t like it there.” You said out loud, pushing it back a few feet.

They moved it again.

“Come on, you’re being annoying.” You move, just for it to get moved back again.

You throw your hands up in the air. “Fine! At least be useful and carry the chair upstairs.” No response, no movement. “Dick.” A gust of wind through your hair and you giggle.

You scribble together a make-shift ouija board, a circle tied from some guitar string you found in a box the ghost knocked off a shelf that must’ve not been cleaned. 

Candles lit, you cross legged on the floor, you try to get information. Requests for the name came up empty, but the string moved to  “yes” when asked if they were a man.

“How old are you? Or- were you?”

5. 6.

“Old man.” You chuckle when wind brushes your hair. You’d learned this was his way of teasing.

“How did you die?”

D-o-n-t-g-o-g-o-l-f-i-n-g

“Don’t go golfing? What does that mean?”

No response.

“Was that a joke?”

Yes.

“Well, I don’t get it. You know that, right?”

Yes.

“Fine, don’t wanna talk about death I see. Fair enough, never been there myself but I heard it’s not fun. Uhhhhhh got any kids?”

2

“Go on.”

2 g-i-r-l-s. 1 d-e-a-d.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that… where is the other?”

I-d-o-n-t-k-n-o-w

“Shit, i’m sorry about that too. Must be confusing.” Not knowing where your daughter is must be hard. “Is your other daughter with you? In the afterlife I mean?”

e-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g-i-s-d-a-r-k

That broke your heart. “Must be scary.”

Yes

Then, the string moved again.

N-e-w-t-o-p-i-c

a-b-o-u-t-y-o-u

For whatever reason, this makes you blush. You spend the evening telling him about yourself, sharing details and asking him the same. He didn’t like talking about his family, refused to answer any more questions. Wouldn’t say his name.

But it was the first time you’d been called beautiful over ouija board, you knew that much. 

Even after you began working, every evening you’d run home to spend time with this ghost of a man. The most people saw of you outside your day labor was a pop into the mess hall to take food home or the clinic as they checked you were recovering okay.

“Don’t see much of you.” The doctor commented. “You adjusting okay? I know it’s a lot to get used to.”

You blink in confusion. You were fine. Happy, even. Sure, you didn’t get to know anyone… but why would you? You did your part for the community, then you went home. Hell, you volunteered extra hours sometimes, picking up more than your fair share. You just didn’t want to get close, that’s all. People died, you’d learned that hard lesson early in life, and learned it over and over and over again. There was no point in making friends, falling in love. Not when it was all so fragile.

But you had your ghost man. He had already crossed that barrier, so there was nothing to fear. Nothing to lose.That night, you talked out loud to him about your day as you always did, he made little sounds knocking cabinets together or brushing a breeze on your skin to let you know he was listening. Sometimes winds rustled your hair when he thought you were funny. Then, the wind turned into a gust, and two firm hands pressed you down the hall, the message clear.

“Jesus! I’m going I’m going!” You follow the breeze bushing you. Fuck he was getting more powerful every day. Pushed to the kitchen, you’re face to face with the fridge.

“If this is a fat joke- hey!” Two distinct fingers pinched your cheek and you laughed. “Okay, tell me what you want!” A breeze, and you hear a fluttering between the fridge. When you bend down and dig around the dust bunnies, you find a piece of distinct photograph paper, and pull it out. On it was a picture of a man, 30’s, maybe 40’s if you were pushing it, his arm wrapped around a hung girl holding a trophy. They looked happy.

“Is this you?”

The picture ruffled in your hand. 

“And the girl, that your daughter?”

The pictures motion was repeated. This looked like it was from before, from long ago… you assumed the girl was the daughter that died.

“It’s so cute…” You traced the picture of your ghost, having a face but no name still. Your feel warm, a blush creeping around your skin and a deep heat settling in your stomach. He was handsome. You’d never really pictured him,, besides a few wandering thoughts here and there, but nothing stuck. You put his picture on your fridge.

At night, the image of his face danced in your head, unable to sleep. It was weird, this friendship you had with the ghost in your house, but you didn’t really care. There were worse things in this world, darker ways to cope. So what if a dead man made you happy, made you blush and grin and giggle. So what if he was the reason your hand was currently being shoved into your PJ’s. 

You’d be lying if you hadn’t touched yourself that first night, but this was the first night you pictured his body on your, his face, that beard…

“Are you watching me?” You asked, panting. That was a first too. You knew there was a possibility he watched, but you didn’t really care. Never had. Now, you hoped he did.

A pause.

Then, the liquid touch of a hand on your face. He was here. He was watching.

“Good.” You assure him, hoping he stays. “Want you to watch.” Your fingers begin to pump in your cunt, and you kick off the covers. So what if it was cold, you wanted him to see you. You thought about what it would be like to feel his face buried between your legs, what his voice sounds like, how he’d touch you-

“You can touch me, if you want. Not just my face.” It was a bold statement. Things with you and him had been friendly, close, a little flirty… but nothing so far had suggested more. For a moment, you thought he wouldn’t. Maybe he just watched to watch. Maybe you embarrassed him and he left.

Then his touch landed on your face, slowly trailing down, down, until you could feel hands on your breasts. The slightest brush on lips ghost the shell of your ear, your cheek, and your heart swells. He wants to kiss you. 

“You can kiss me. It’s okay.” It wasn’t as strong a touch a his hands, but he ridgid texture of chapped lips touch yours, and ripples of pleasure flow throughout the erogenous zones on your body, far ore reach than two hands ever could. It tickles, and it feels fucking good.

“Wish you were here….” You mumble, still fucking yourself as hips bucked against yoru fingers, sopping wet sounds fill the quiet bedroom. “Never connected to anyone the way I have you.” A squeeze on your leg reassured you, and soon your tits were being messaged in a way clumsy human hands couldn’t do. It was like the rolling ocean crashing and waving and peaking on the tender flesh, a surreal experience to your touch-starved body.

“I’m gonna cum, I’m f-fuck, you’re gonna make me cum-”

Then you hear it, clear as day, sharp and quick against your ear.

“Joel.”

His name. You cry it out as your pussy clenches down on your fingers.

*

After that, ghost sex was something you and Joel regularly engaged in. He couldn’t really speak much still, usually only getting out one word. Generally it was ordering you to cum, sometimes a single word compliment slipped through with a southern accent.

“Beautiful.” He whispered as you lay in bed, satiated and panting.

He thought you were beautiful when you came.

There was never another reason to go anywhere outside of your home other than to work or get food, and more and more you just got groceries and worked with what you had. You liked cooking with him ,you didn’t want to be away.

Today, as you tried to make soup, you couldn’t help laugh as he managed to speak “More seasoning” and lift a fuck ton of herbs up and into the pot. At least he was a helpful ghost.

“You can just make it next time!”

You expect to feel your hair rustle, but instead his voice speaks.

“Tommy.”

Then a knock on the door. You were so startled (people never visited you) you almost didn’t answer. No one outside that door could be worth time away from Joel, but he pushed you to answer, a desperation in his actions that matched the tone he spoke the name.

When you answered, you would have shut the door if you weren’t curious about Joel’s reaction.

There stood the man who got in a shouting match with Maria. Oh, yeah, Tommy, that’s right. But why was he here? Tommy was tall, but his posture at the moment was sunken, sheepish. When he looked at you, pink dusted his tan skin. “Can I talk t’yuh?”

You narrow your eyes. “Sorry, but the last time we spoke you weren’t exactly polite enough for me to feel like welcoming you inside, and every time I’ve seen you, you give me dirty looks.”

He nods. “I understand, that’s why I uh… wanted t’explain myself. I shouldn’t’ve done that, but I was angry. Ain’t right, still…”

“What could I have possibly done to you?”

His eyes were large, brown, and wet. “This was uh… my brother’s house. He died 3 years ago.”

*

5 Minutes later, Tommy was sitting on the couch with you, cup of soup in hand. You hadn’t felt or heard Joel, but this was your chance. Some answers.

“Funny.” He pats the couch. “This was his. Was right here for years, never moved it.”

“It’s uh… a good spot. Now, I think you had some explaining to do?”

“Right…“ Tommy rubbed the back of his neck. “The house has been empty since he died. My wi- ex wife, I guess, kept it empty out of courtesy but she was right. It was time to move on.”

“Did he die in here?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Tommy explained it to you. The revenge that was enacted on his brother for saving the girl, Ellie. You wondered if that was his daughter he mentioned, but Tommy just referred to her as his kid. How the woman and their group killed him, Tommy saw his brother's head bashed in, brain matter on the walls. 

The golf joke still didn’t make sense, but you’d figure it out. You learned more about Joel too, that he was from Texas, that his daughter, Tommy niece, died on outbreak day. Joel’s birthday. Joel played the guitar, he liked to swim, was an overbearing brother and loving dad. He was married once. He learned to cook to get Sarah to eat veggies so he was pretty good at it. Was a good man. The best, the way Tommy spoke.

“I know it ain’t right the way I’ve treat’n yuh. And I know it’s not your fault. I just hadn’t been handling his death well, you know? Lost my wife, almost lost my son… I ain’t been the man he raised me to be. I now you don’t… do anything. In town. That’s probably my fault and I’m so-”

“You think I stay home because I’m avoiding you?” You nearly bark out a laugh, his eyes growing in confusion. “Brother, I ain’t scared of no man, if I wanted to go to the movie nights I would have!”

Tommy processes this information, sipping on the last of the soup broth. “Oh… I guess I just assumed...”

“Well, you know what they say about assuming. Make’s an ass out of you and me. Here, gimmie.” You take his mug, walking to the kitchen to rinse it and still giggling.

Tommy follows you. “Well I’m sorry! I guess I just figured, the time’n ‘n all.”

You throw a look over your shoulder. “I stay home because I like it here. Because I’ve been alone for years, so I’m fine with it.”

“But why not-” He stops in his tracks. “Where did you get that?”

You follow his line of view and realize your mistake. “Uh. I uh. I found that while cleaning the kitchen, by the fridge. I guess I thought it was nice, so I hung it up… why? Who is it?”

You knew the answer before he even spoke Joel’s name. You had to pretend to be surprised, but even worse, you knew what you needed to do.

“Keep it.” You say, pushing the picture closer to him, breaking you a bit. You had to hide every emotion, because there was no reason for you to have any attachment to it. He didn’t know what you and Joel shared with each other. Who he was to you. It didn’t matter, because Joel was his brother. The girl was his niece. He deserved the picture.

“That’s her. That’s Sarah.” Tommy continued, confirming your suspicions as his finger trailed over the girl. 

“She’s adorable.”

“Yeah… she was. Great kid too.”

Tommy helped you wash up the dishes from making soup, you and him talking more. He was nice when he wasn’t yelling. You could understand why he was so upset at the time, and you forgave it.

You told as much as he stood in your doorway. “I don’t hold it against you. I promise.”

He nods, smiling and looking more at ease. “Promise you’ll come to the next movie night, it’s tomorrow. It’ll be good for you, I promise.”

“What’s playing?‘

“Scream 2!”

You roll your eyes. “Not the first one?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Tommy says with a tease. “Is fucking scream 2 at the end of the world not enough for you?”

You shove him out of your door, laughing. “Fine! I’ll fucking come. But only to see Timothy Olyphant.”

You shut the door, and turn around still laughing. But what you see shocks you so bad, you’d have screamed if you didn’t cover your mouth.

It was Joel. Faint. Barely there. A dead eyed stare. Much older than the picture and his hair was longer. But it was him.

“Joel?” You say, tentatively walking towards him. He wasn’t looking at you, instead, he was looking at the door, unmoving, unblinking, unbreathing. Your hand passes through him and when his form dissipates, you fall to the ground and cry.

*

“Are you mad at me?” You ask. He was strangely quiet the rest of the day, only a few little touches here and there. No ghost sex that night. When you are getting out of work clothes and putting something warm on for the movie, you bring it up.

“No.”

“Well, you’ve hardly talked to me. Is it because I asked Tommy as those questions about you? I’m sorry, it’s just easier that way and I wanted to know what happened to you-”

“I miss him.”

Three whole words. 

“You’re getting stronger. Did you mean to appear to me yesterday?”

“You saw me?”

“Yeah, and I hear you really good now.” You grin. “I can’t believe you’re talking this much. Maybe I’ll skip the movie, I don’t wanna lose-”

“No. Go.” a brief pause. “Please.”

“Joel Miller,” You tease him. “Are you having me check on your baby brother?” He rustles your hair.

*

So, you started hanging around Tommy more. It started as filling Joel in on his life, but really, you liked being around Tommy. He was easy to talk to. 

You lay on your side in bed, trying to picture his face as you’d done every night for months as you talk to him. Joel’s voice was clear, fully communicating with you now. Every now and then you could see a glimpse of him in a mirror or the faint frozen picture of him standing somewhere, usually after Tommy was over. 

“Walker is doing really well.” You tell him about his nephew you’ve met a few times. For a few years, Tommy was barely around after Joel’s death, most of the time he was drunk. There was an incident several months ago where Tommy passed out of the couch and Walker tried to start the stove, resulting in a small kitchen fire, and Tommy effectively lost custody of his son. Not that family court existed here, but Tommy knew he couldn’t be there. This was shortly after you moved in, and was the reason Tommy finally got sober. Things were going better now, and he’s repairing that relationship.

“You met him?”

“Yeah, he’s quiet. But he’s very polite.” Tommy said he takes after Joel. Walker and Joel had been very close before he died, Tommy adored the little boy. The little boy in question was now 8, growing up.

He sighs. “Yeah, he was a good kid. I never had a son, figured raise’n Tommy was close enough. But when I was with him… Sometimes I think back to when Sarah died, how hard Tommy fought to keep her alive… yuh know, after she died I was just, I was drowning in my sadness. There was no room for Tommy’s grief, I guess. He’s stronger than I gave him credit for, because he was always there for me. If I had lost Walker… I dunno if I could have been that strong.”

A few days later, you invite Tommy and his son over for dinner, and as you stare at Walker eating his food and laughing you can see Joel. He’s no longer a still picture, he’s moving, and smiling, and laughing too. No one else can see or hear him.

But he looks right at you.

*

You can see him now, laying on the pillow beside you as the pair of you talk. Sometimes he’s tangible, hands touching your face and you can see his tan skin through your peripheral. Sometimes it’s more faint, like he’s using all his strength to be see and he can’t materialize his touch. You don’t know how it works, but you’re happy to see his face. Joel has kind eyes, a softness in a world of blood and violence.

“You're beautiful.” And it’s your voice whispering it to him, because he is. Every line on his face, the scar on his forehead, the tired darkness under his eyes as if an eternity to sleep wasn’t enough. Every little freckle you could map on his face on days he was more clear. It was perfect. It was him. 

A sadness crosses over those pools of brown. “I really don’t deserve you…” When you open your mouth to protest, he continues. “I’ve killed people.”

That wasn’t a shock. Who hasn’t? “I have too.”

But Joel shakes his head, curls staying in place as if gravity is now inconsequential, as if he’s frozen in time with a single lock on his forehead. “No, I’ve killed innocents. A lot. Me ‘n Tommy, before… and protect’n Ellie…”

You thought about this for a while, a chill of cold reminiscent of when he first came to you makes you shiver, but when you look at him, you don’t feel the repulsion you know he expects. “You kill children?”

“No.” He says firmly, a glimmer of sadness crossing his eyes. You didn’t think so, knowing he knew what that loss was. “But that don’t make it much better.”

“Did rape anyone? Kill people for fun? Get off on it?” 

Disgust mares his features. “No, never.”

You nod. “You kill any innocent people since coming to Jackson? Settling here?”

Again, a shake of his head doesn’t knock loose a single hair. “No, but before-”

“I’m not worried about before.” You voice is soft, and you tentatively reach a hand out to caress his face. His skin was soft, softer than a man in his 50’s would be, but that’s what happens when you aren’t fully there. “I don’t care about that. Really, I don’t. You deserve a second chance just as much as anyone does. The world out there-” You vaguely whisk your hand around. “Does things to us. As far as I’m concerned, as long as you’re not a rapist, didn’t kill kids, not one of those really, really bad people… I think you deserve to leave that all outside the gates of Jackson.”

His eyes soften, affection pooling with something more. “Thank you, darl’n I mean it. I wasn’t always forgiven in that life. Nice to know someone does in this one,”

Your heart aches for him, so you try to ease his pain. “Tommy forgives you, I know it. You heard how he talks about you.”

But he’s still distant. “Maybe. But maybe he just misses me. That’s different. Besides, there’s someone I know hasn’t.”

“Ellie?”

He nods. “She…. well, we just started talk’n, right before I died. Didn’t have the chance to find out if she ever would, you know? Now I never will.”

“She does, Joel. It’s been years, I know she does.”

But he didn’t believe you.

*

Joel’s words stuck with you, simmering in your head like the soups he helps you make. Today you were on patrol with a fairly quiet partner, so you had nothing left to do but think, think, think. Why did his words affect you so much? He was so stuck on forgiveness, even though he’d never know-

Oh.

That’s why he was trapped here, wasn’t it? Joel’s ghost remained behind because he didn’t have the closure he needed. Tommy and him had made up, but Joel died not knowing if Ellie ever did. Years of estrangement for taking her from the hospital, for saving her, for lying, and he wasn’t sorry, he told you himself. But he needed Ellie’s forgiveness. He needed to know Tommy didn’y hold resentment. He needed to know they were safe, that they were okay.

Joel couldn’t talk to Tommy. For some reason, you could hear him speak when Tommy was around, see him, but Tommy never reacted. Joel couldn’t even move things or create a breeze when he was around…

If Joel got what he needed, the forgiveness, the resolution he longed for, he could move on. You knew it. He was getting stronger every day, his appearance crystal clear, his touch more and more solid, less fluid than before. You wanted little more than to have him like that, as close to a real person as he could get, at your home you shared with him every single day, every hour, sleeping next to him, cooking with him, fucking him… part of your mind told you that you could do it.

But that wasn’t right. He’d be little more than a housewife, a sex doll, a captive. You could keep him there, to be your only friend outside of occasionally seeing his brother, the person who knew you best, someone always there to talk because what other options did he have? 

That wasn’t you. The rational part won out, and your knew what you had to do.

*

Tommy’s face was one of worry when you told him you’d seen the ghost of his brother. You’d spilled it all out, sparing the ghost sex details, but instead of shock, he just asked you if you ere okay.

“Yes! Tommy I’m fine-”

“I dunno, you’re kinda a weird person to begin with, see’n shit wouldn’t be that new-”

“Tommy!” You stand abruptly from his couch,  pulling at your hair. “I’m not seeing- I’m not hallucinating him! You don’t understand, I see him, I see him every fucking day that’s why I don’t go anywhere!”

A sympathetic look crossed his face. “Honey, maybe you’re seeing him because you’re alone every day.”

“I’M NOT CRAZY!!” You shout at him, and he softens. 

“I know, I know.” Tommy stands. “Maybe… maybe you should stay here a few days, maybe this is a yellow wallpaper situation, you gotta get fresh air, a new environment-” he reaches for your arm but you yank it away.

“Does the term ‘don’t go golf’n mean anything to you?”

Confusion crosses his face. “Not really, why?”

A deep breath. “He… I asked how he died, with a ouija board i made and he just said don’t go golfing. Never explained.”

Tommy’s skin paled, the freckles on his face a stark contrast against him. His face a deadly calm. “How did you know that.”

You can’t help but groan. “I told you, he-”

“ENOUGH GAMES!” The sudden shout shocks you, and you step back. Tommy must’ve realized he was scaring you, so he calmed down just a bit. “I’m serious. This isn’t fucking funny.”

Tears of frustration and sadness filled your heart, begging him to believe you. You didn’t think Tommy would hurt you, but the distress he was in was clear. “I wouldn’t joke about this… he- he said it was a joke I wouldn’t get, and I don’t. Tommy please, I’m being serious…”

Then, the realization dawned on him, clear as day. He believed you. “Holy shit. You’re telling the truth…”

“I am.” You sob. “Tommy I swear I’m telling the truth. He needs help, he’s trapped here… we need to help him…”

He was shaking. “C-can I see him?”

It broke your heart to say no. He can only appear to me, I think…He’s tired when you are over…“

Dizzy, Tommy sits down. “He was round… whenever I was over, wasn’t he? That’s why I always feel so calm there…”

You nod. “He calms me too. I don’t know how.” You join him on the couch again. “Tommy, what does don't go golfing mean?”

His face is buried in his hands, and you think he’s crying. It’s a lot, you know, it’ a lot to spring on someone, especially that he can’t hear or see him still, his own brother so close and yet so far. But you were doing this for him, so that he could move on, so that he could see his Sarah in the afterlife.

When Tommy finally looked up, his face and hands were soaking wet.

“He was killed with a golf club. We never told anyone about that.”

*

Joel stood behind you, clear and crystalline, his body practically human. He was cold, but he brought you comfort. “Something on your mind, darl’n?”

You don’t wanna lie to him, but you can’t tell him what’s happening, not yet. You want a few more days without this hanging over you both.

“Tommy left for a few weeks. Just worried.” You didn’t tell him he went to find Ellie, to go back to the farmhouse she lived in with Dina and see if she’s there, if Dina knows where she lives kows anything. To try and convince Ellie that this woman she’s never met his eeing her dad as a ghost and they need to help him move on. But hes gonna try.

A week later, the town was in a ruckus, Tommy returning to Jackson with the prodigal daughter, her girlfriend, and a little boy.

Turns out Ellie went back to Dina, begged for her back on hands and knees, and they’d been living alone out in the country for years raising JJ. They all looked good, healthy, happy… Ellie was skeptical but she agreed to come as a favor to Tommy. Everything was planned for tomorrow, but as you lay in bed with Joel for the last time, you can’t bring yourself to tell him.

You wanted one last night.

Joel kissed you, languid and soft, his hands roamed your naked and prone body and for the first time, you noticed something. A tent in his pants. A ghost had gotten an erection for you.

“Joel…” You moan, feeling him rutt against you.

“I know, I feel it too.” His voice is husky against your ear, and chills flow throughout your body as you realize what this means. Joel was firm, his body fully here and he was hard. Joel could fuck you.

He went feral after that, yanking down your PJ shorts so fast your barely had time to lift your hips, but it didn’t matter. You spread your legs to welcome to fingers the plumged into your body, absolutly dripping for the man laid beside you. Joel’s breath was hot, growling and grunting as e finger fucks you open, preparing you to take his cock for the first time. 

“You’re always s’fucking wet.” He says between sucking kisses on your neck. You didn’t care if he left hickies on you, you were just beyond ecstatic that he was strong enough to leave marks. You wanted him to be with you in some way permanently. “Been wish’n I could feel you since that first day, so sweet, so beautiful, always so ready for my touch.”

You paw at him, groping his body and trying to just get his massive form on top of you. “Need you.” You beg like a needy young thing, like you’d never been fucked properly before, like you needed to be filled and taken and ravaged. 

“I got yuh, darl’n…” Joel murmur, rolling over on top of you, his cock heavy- when had his clothes come off?

Knelt before your body, Joel was magnificent. His body was broad, thick, not quick as barrel chested as his brother, he held it more in the shoulders. Down his chest and stomach held scares, fat, and a trail of hair leading down, down, down to where his cock hung thick and leaking and cut. You forgot he was a ghost; he didn’t feel like one, he felt real. He felt here. Tears filled up in your eyes, and Joel leans over, his body covering yours in his cool skin. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asks in a gentle voice, thumbing away a stray tear. “I hope yuh ain’t scared’a me? Are yuh?”

You’ve never been more sure of saying no in your life. “Ain’t scared.” You whisper. “I just… I love you so much…” It wasn’t necessarily a lie. You did love him. But that wasn’t why you were crying, not really anyway. No, you cried because this was goodbye.

Joel’s eyes, black pupils swallowing the beautiful brown with lust, grew wet themselves as he smiles down at you. “I love you too. So damn much.”

Your nails did into his back, relishing in the firm, solid feel of him. This was real. He was real. “Fuck me, please. Make love to me. I want to feel you, really feel you…”

Plush lips kissed you as he slid inside, a wave of calm relaxed your body, allowing you to take his considerable length inside you. He was big, stretching you open slowly while you accommodate him. 

“Fuck, it’s like you’re made for me…” He moans in your ear, desperate like he’s falling apart at one stroke. But he doesn’t. When he fucks you, it’s with more vigor, more energy than you’ve ever felt from a living person, a slap of skin from his hips meeting your thighs, his balls heavy and slapping against your ass, his fingers digging, digging digging so deep inside as you wished he’d bruise you, wished he’d cut you open and crawl inside so he could never leave you, two souls as one. To know and to be known at the deepest level. Souls and bodies barred to each other. Nothing left to hide.

He couldn’t do that, so as Joel slammed his cock into you, you begged for something else. “Mark me.” You whimper, getting a reaction of confusion from your lover, so you take his hand and dig his nails into your tender hips. “I need to know this is real. All of it.” The tears come again when you can see him want to deny you. “This isn’t forever, you know this can’t before but I- Joel I need something to be forever! We can’t get married, you can’t leave me pictures or presents or- or kids, Joel, I need to be able to remember you.”

His movements slow. “Oh, pretty baby…” He murmurs lowly. “I’ll give anything if it means you can’t forget me.” he kisses you deeply, sucking in your tongue and before he pulls away he nips your lip. “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

But nothing of Joel could be too much.

A shape gasp as he dug into you, left hand bracing himself on the bed as he never stopped fucking you, rolls of pleasure coured your body like it had tha first night, swirling over your clit and dragging you screaming to the edge. And screaming you were.

“Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” You shout so loud you don’t care who hears you. Half the town thinks you’re fucking Tommy anyway. Don’t stop fucking you, don’t stop marking you, don’t, don’t, don’t go.

You could keep him to yourself. Tell Ellie and Tommy you lied, or that he went away and you can’t see him any more. Anything so that he doesn’t get what he needs, that he stays with you forever.

He’s impossibly deep inside, but in your leaking, dripping channel and into your hip. The cut of his nails goes further than they should go, but you don’t question it. Instead, you focus on the feeling of him marking your flesh, of him making your insides as his as he cums deep in your stomach. Your cunt pulses around him as your draw out whatever he’s filling you with, you don’t care. It’s him. 

“More, more” You cry into his shoulder, but he’s already slowing his thrusts.

“I’m as deep as I can go, baby…” He stays bottomed out inside you, but his hands withdrawal from your side as you come down. His bloody hand cups your face, dripping with your own warmth.

You sob against his cold skin, Joel wrapping you into a hug as the overwhelming emotion of what happened floods you, and it’s too much. You need more, but it’s not him deeper, not him scaring you, and not him filling you up.

It’s more time.

*

You wake up with blood on your face and your wounds cleaned and bandaged, with Joel’s body gone, as it usually is in the morning. It took until the afternoon for him to appear again.

“Sorry baby.” He apoligized, hugging you. “I dunno why I can’t control coming better.” He poked your side, and you knew he meant a double entendre but you didn’t have it in you to laugh.

“It’s okay. Last night used a lot. You probably needed to rest.”

“Yeah…” He touched the bandage he’d put on your hip with soft intent. “How you feel’n bout this?”

You smile. “Great. But Joel…” You turn around to face him, his face frowning with worry. “I gotta tell you something… I told Tommy about you…” Before he has a chance to ask questions, you spill it out. “And he went and found Ellie, she’s hear. I think… I think if you reconcile with her, with Tommy, once the air is cleared… you can move on.”

For a long moment, he stares at you, unmoving, unblinking, frozen as the picture that used to hang on your door. Then he speaks. “You know… that means I can’t see you again, right.”

Damn the tears the spring forth, damn the well of emotions overflowing your body, a trickle of a leak in the damn, then it cracks, and it all breaks. You begin to sob in his arms. “I know, I know… but it’s not right for me to keep you here! You- you said it’s dark, and you’re scared.”

“I ain’t scared when I’m with you…”

“But you won’t always be with me! I need to help you move on! It’s unnatural, it’s wrong, you need to be with Sarah, you need to be at peace knowing Sarah and Tommy love you, that they forgive you!”

He lets you cry, holding you close in strong arms as he realized what was happening. He’d see Ellie again. You were willing to give him up just so he could get his happy end.

His voice in your ear.

“Ellie.”

*

She was skeptical, understandingly. Pretty, short, in her 20’s with brown hair cropped into a pixie and looking annoyed. She sat next to Tommy with her arms crossed and practically glaring at you. 

“I’m gonna need more proof than some golf joke.”

“It was enough to get you here, wasn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I owed Tommy for every fucking time he saved my damn life, that’s why I’m here.” She turned to her uncle. “We’re even, by the way.”

“Sure as shit are.” He sighs, then looks at you. “He here?” 

You gesture to the couch. “Yeah he’s sitting right- hey!”

Ellie swung her hand over where you said Joel was sitting, doing nothing but annoying Joel who tried in vein to smack her away, telling her to cut the shit.

“I don’t fucking feel anything.”

“That’s not how it works Ellie!” Tommy flicked her arm. “Relax.”

With a huff, she crossed her arms again. “Fine.”

Tommy looked to you, then to Joel, then back to you. “Tell her something only Joel would know.”

When you turn to Joel, he’s looking at Ellie with sadness. She looks different, a lot older, yet she’s still Ellie to him. He doesn’t turn to you. ‘David.’ He instructs, and you turn to her.

“Do you know a David?” And suddenly her skin blanches. Ever so slightly, she’s shaking, but then she turns to Tommy. “Did Joel fucking telling you that!?”

From beyond Tommy’s protests that he doesn’t know who Daivid is, did she mean David Turner, who was a local here, or David Sanchez, who died last month in a raid? Joel insists he’d never tell that to anyone, but Ellie can’t hear him.

You try to calm them. “He says he was someone you met after leaving Jackson the first time, that you did the right thing by killing him.”

“Yeah! I fucking did!”

“He says if he goes to hell, David is the first person he’s finding.”

She stops, information processing in her head that there was no way Joel wold have told whoever David was to Tommy. “David tried to rape me when I was 14.” She grits out. “I stabbed him to death and let his body burn up.”

Tommy turns to her, horrified but doesn’t speak.

You nod. “Good.”

And then, she sinks into the couch. “Whenever I had nightmares… Joel always told me David was the first person he’d find in hell. He was convinced he was going there.”

You chuckle. Yeah that sounds like Joel. “He loves you both very, very much… and the uncertainty is what’s keeping him here. I need to help him move on.” 

“So what? You’re some sort of fucking medium?”

“No, I’ve never had anything like this happen before but… He started appearing to me. Little touches, cold spots, breezes… then he started moving things, hearing his voice…. Now I can see him, he’s as clear as you are, honestly.”

Tommy speaks now. “He’s gotta know-” He tries to turn to where you said Joel was, but you can tell he’s struggling to talk to a brown cushion. “You gotta know we love you, don’t know? How can you doubt that?”

‘Tell him I do. But tell him… I don’t know if he forgives me.’

“Joel knows you both love him, but that’s not why he’s stuck. He needs to know you forgive him.”

Ellie is staring sone faced at a wall, but Tommy is looking down at his hands now, this seems easier. “Joel… those things we did… it’s been a long time. I was angry, yeah, I fucking hated you for a while but…” He shakes his head, silver streaks shimmering in the deep brown of his hair. “I got Walker now and… after he was born man, I think I got it. The things we did to survive… you were willing to do some of the worst shit out there, damning your own soul to save me. I’d do the same for my kid, if I needed to.”

‘But I shouldn’t have made you do any of it, Tommy.’

“Joel feels bad that he made you participate.”

“You didn’t make me do fuck’n shit, brother. I was a grown ass man, even if you still thought of me as a reckless teenager. I made my choices, and I understand why you made yours. You lost your baby, I know damn well you couldn’t take lose’n your brother either. I forgive you, but you also gotta forgive yourself, brother.”

Ellie pipes up. “I get it too, Joel. I told you that night, I didn’t know if I could forgive you… telling you I couldn’t… but… UUGHHHH!” She slumps down, covering her face. “Joel I was angry! I was angry and I was stupid but I was a teenager! I was just- just a kid who had these grand schemes of changing the world! But we don’t know if it could’ve worked. But I forgive you, Joel. I was always gonna forgive you, even before you went and fucking left me! I don’t know why I had to do that, why i treated you the way I did-”

‘You were a teenager, that’s normal-’

“But I think about it, every single day I think about it and what I should've said and done better but I get it now. I don’t know what you’ve been told but I got my kid now. I know you’re old man brain is probably trying to work out how two women had a baby-”

Joel laughs, and so does Ellie.

“But it’s Jesse’s. Dina got pregnant before Jesse and her broke up and he… he died. But I’ve been raising him with her the last few years… She took me back… You ask me on the porch that night if she treats me good and Joel…” Ellie sighs, smiling. “She really does.”

‘Tell ‘er I’m glad. That I always liked her, and I wanna know the kids name.’

“Joel says he doesn’t blame you for being mad at him, or how you talked to him. He says he’s glad Dina and you are happy. What’s the babies name?”

Ellie grins, pride in her eyes. “The baby is almost 4 now. His name is JJ. Jesse Joel.”

Tear fill up Joel’s eyes, fatherly love overwhelming him and for a moment, you think how sweet this is, how nice. Then you notice he’s not as clear as he was before.

“Joel!” You rush to his side and take his hand, kneeling at the couch. “Joel, I think it worked… you’re fading…” You try to grip his hand, as if holding on tighter would keep him here with you, keep him ground in this world. Without him, you weren’t sure what you’d do with your life, who you’d talk to or confide in…. But you knew, you knew above all you’d miss him. There would never be another Joel.

‘Please-’ He sounds desperate now, scared even. ‘One more time, tell them I love them, I just- I love them so much fucking much.’

Through your sobs, you relay the message. “He needs you to know how much he loves you guys. He talks about you all the time, he- you’re everything to him.” You see Ellie and Tommy holding hands, Ellie crying and Tommy looking close. 

“We love you, Joel. All of us.” Ellie says, to nowhere in particular.

‘And the kids. Walker and- fuck I ain’t never met JJ but I love him too. If, if there’s a heaven I’m gonna…’ His words start to fade, but you know what he’s saying. His strength is going fast, Joel letting go and passing on, but even still his body shook. He was scared. If there was a heaven, Joel was going, but he wasn’t sure about that.

“He says he loves Walker and JJ, he’s gonna watch over them in heaven”

That breaks Tommy, who lets the tears come now as he takes your hand too, squeezing it tight.

You look up at your lover. “I love you, Joel. I’m always gonna love you, always gonna remember you. It’s gonna be okay, I promise you. We’re gonna be alright, we’re doing okay. You can let go now. It’s okay to let go. There’s no one left you need to protect.. we’re safe.”

Even though he’s fading away Joel looks into your eyes. He can’t speak, his strength fading, but it’s all communicated through those eyes that say so much. One last time, he cups your cheek, and the hand that isn’t holding Tommy’s brushes over the cold fingers, feeling liquid and unstable again. There’s fear in his eyes, mixed with that tender love, but then something changes in him.

Joel looks forward, past you, Tommy and Ellie and onto something else, something more. He smiles. ‘I see her’

All his fear his gone, and his face is peaceful.

For the final time, a breeze rustles your hair, and Tommy and Ellie see it.

Joel is gone, and all you can do is sob into his couch.

*

When it finally subsides you feel numb. Ellie and Tommy have joined you on the floor, the three of you talking about the experience you shared together, something no one will ever believe. 

“His last words were, ‘’I see her’....”

Tommy whispers Sarah’s name, and you nod. 

“He’s with her now. He’s a peace. I know a better place is a cliche, but…” Ellie wipes her tears. “We all know how much he missed her.”

Everyone nods solemnly, and for a while, you stay there, talking about Joel, memories and his jokes and his cooking. It was nice to share this secret with other, and suddenly you felt less alone in it. They believed your stories of the ghost in your walls, and they liked hearing the knew things he told you. You liked learning more of his past.

Eventually, everyone had to get back to their families. You were alone, but you didn’t feel lovely. Something had shifted, a closeness to Ellie and Tommy that didn’t scare you the way human connection used to. Maybe you would go to the mess hall, see some movies. Your patrol partner was quiet, but nice. Tommy was still around, and Ellie and Dina decided to pack up their things and return, wanting JJ to have friends. It was going to be okay, and as the sun set on the day, somehow you felt it rise on your life. A new, beautiful world of opportunities for friendship and love was out there.

You stared in the mirror, butt naked, feeling strangely open and vulnerable despite being alone for the first time in months.

It all felt surreal, something that seemed impossible, that went against every logical explanation.

But when you took off the bandage on your hip to change it, there they were, clear as day. 4 crescent fingernail cuts deep into your skin, something that would scar forever.

No matter what happened, you’d always carry these with you, proof that Joel and your love for him was real.

I cried pretty good writing tht end, knowing its my goodbye. I want yall to know I love each and every reader so so so so much. You mean the world to me. every kind word lives on in me forever. I hope you'll stay for my other writing, but if not, thats okay! I wih all of you the best.

Please be kinder to each other. the fanfic writers do this for free, they do not deserve the things they've experienced here. It is a beautiful world out there.

Trust me, it feels way better to send anon love rather than anon hate. I wont be writing tlou for a minute but ill return with a tommy series !!!!

follow @romana-after-dark for dark content and @riley-blue-byron for upcoming original works!

So long, and thanks for all the fish <3

reblogs are greatly appriciated, would make a nice send off <3

@princessanglophile @missladym1981 @goodwithcheese @dancinglotusbud @glitterymanboy @koshkaj-blog @sixhours @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @fandxmslxt69 @miraclesabound

[what-the-dark-has-foretold]

Meetings in Solitude

Shigaraki x fem!reader

Navi.

Warnings: suggestive/spicy, mdni, faerie witch reader, vampire!shigaraki, he briefly picks her up (vampire strength?)

Autumn Festival 2024

Wordcount: 1k+

The earth was warm, yet already smelled like autumn when you passed the trees; carefully, like a ghost gracing the place. The air was calm but for a gentle breeze carrying the smell of mint. You made a mental note to look for the herbs on your way back.

The hem of your dress fluttered around your ankles as you stepped over flowers and tree trunks, humming a quiet little tune under your breath. The sun fell golden unto the earth.

The basket you held closely was already filled to the brim with wildflowers, however, the medicinal plants you had originally set out to collect had still not been added. And yet, with not a single care in the world you skipped through the forest, unaware of the monsters lurking close by.

He noticed you first. Although he wasn´t even trying to conceal his presence, you seemed so deep in your daydream that you had left yourself completely vulnerable. His tongue slowly traced his sharp canines, and his head tilted to the side. Intrigued, he watched you hum to yourself as you picked some forget-me-nots here and plopped a wild strawberry into your mouth there. Oh. His eyes zeroed in on your lips now tinted in pink, fruity gloss. He was certain it would taste just as sweet as you looked.

“I´ve heard fairies were a bit naïve, always with their head in the clouds, but you really are making it easy to hunt you down,” he finally spoke up, but regretted it the moment you looked up, eyes widened in surprise and lips parted. His heart skipped a beat. You looked like one of those deer Dabi loved to play with. “I mean-“

“Ah-“ You both started at the same time. He blushed and fell quiet, so you decided to go first:

“What would I even be afraid of?” You laid your head to the side, watching him with soft, albeit challenging eyes. “A vampire isn´t enough to scare a witch, you know?”

He stared at you. “You´re a witch?” he spluttered. You laughed and set down your basket to walk up to him. He shied away from your gaze, nervously looking around. Soft fingers suddenly brushing his chin made him stop. Gently, you turned his face back towards you.

“Do you not think us faeries have grown used to being underestimated and thus hunted down by wolves or raptors…or vampires?”

He gulped. Thank god the other two weren´t here with him. Touya would have probably taken it as a challenge and Keigo would most likely have to nurse another case of heartbreak for the following weeks. Especially the latter he could really do without; the last time had been bad enough already.

You didn´t even flinch when he suddenly appeared behind you. Shit, he was sure you even bared your neck for him. Your smell – so unbelievably sweet – hit him unexpectedly, he couldn´t prevent the whine breaking from his chest. Only a second later he flinched back. You, however, only chuckled.

“Is it the blood or the spell that enchanted you so?”

He couldn´t tell, but he swore the soft fragrance that came right after the sweet smell of your fruity body wash had ebbed down was what drew him in. You smelt absolutely perfect, he realised with a start. Your hand shot out to hold his sleeve in your grasp and stop him from moving even farther away. Warily, he met your gaze again. His mouth dried when he saw hurt glimmer in your eyes.

“What,” it came out breathily.

“Don´t leave,” you pleaded, quietly. “I´ll stop teasing, I´m sorry.”

Inwardly, he groaned. You would definitely cause some problems for him.

You were far more docile than he had thought you after your original meeting – as faerie-like as he had believed you to be at first sight.

He enjoyed visiting you at night with the metallic smell of blood still clinging to him. Quietly, he would come up behind you and circle your waist with his arms, feeling you flinch against him as he pressed you close to his chest. Only after letting his face fall and rest in the crook of your neck to get a whiff of you, he gently turned you around and pressed a kiss to your lips.

He especially enjoyed it when you deepened the kiss even though remnants of blood still clung unto his tongue. The little moans you let out regardless – or because of? – made him shudder every time. Tonight was such a night.

But far too soon for his liking you ended the kiss, eyes wide yet sinful as you looked up at him, before choosing to nuzzle into his neck. He let out a grunt and let his fingers card through your hair, eliciting a comfortable hum from you. Smiling, you cuddled deeper into his hold, as if trying to merge with him.

Tenko decided to ignore the tightness in his pants at your cute display of affection and picked you up. Apparently, you preferred the position, all but purring and squeezing his body with both arms and legs. He chuckled when you whined as he set you down on your bed.

Oh, how he adored your bed. The sheets were soft, pastel-coloured cotton and had a homely feel to them – nothing like the cold red satin at his parent's house. He sighed, letting himself fall next to you. Immediately, you turned over to partly lay on top of him, pressing your face into the juncture of his neck again. He groaned and flicked your temple, but didn´t make a move to peel you away.

“C´mon, baby, I know you´re tired,” he murmured, patting your head to help you settle, but you kept on nibbling at his soft skin. He sighed and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to your forehead; a soft whine escaped you when he tugged you away from his neck to do so.

“Kiss me?” you asked, lashes fluttering against his chin. Careful not to hurt you, he lifted you up and set you down to properly lay on his chest, nose to nose. Gently, you rolled your hips against his and he had to force himself not to moan loudly at the feeling. He frowned a little at the giggle you let out and lightly tugged at your hair to chastise you. But you only cradled his cheek with your soft hands and lowered yourself to capture his lips in an all-encompassing kiss. He groaned into your mouth, grasping at your night dress, twitching fingers trying to slip it off.

Maybe you were right, and sleep could wait. After all, he was dying to sink his teeth into you, the sweetest blood slowly filling his mouth and coating his tongue the prettiest shade of red.

[pagannatural]

2.01

In My Time of Dying

-Dean looks like he’s witnessing a miracle when he first sees at Sam at the hospital.

-Sam can hear and/or sense Dean at least three times while Dean’s unconscious. He’s the only one. He can’t do this with anyone else at any point. Further evidence their connection is metaphysical.

-Dean references Ghost, a movie about a woman and the ghost of her lover. 👀

-Sam is appalled that John can think of anything but Dean when Dean might die, but Sam was ready to blow right past the possibility of saving John in order to get revenge last episode. One thing about Sam is that he really loves Dean more than anyone else and he won’t say it, but it comes out at times like these. I think Sam would feel pathetic if he actually said it.

-Sam is unwilling to entertain the idea of Dean dying. He sees the car and says that when he gets better he’s gonna want to fix it, and Sam knows his brother because he’s absolutely right.

He won’t let Bobby scrap Dean’s car, which is a metaphor for Dean’s life. Sam is ready to accept whatever condition Dean wakes up in. It’s also cute that Sam sees the impala as Dean’s, not John’s. It makes me wonder how many drives Dean took Sam on when they were younger, if Dean often snuck him away for little hang-outs like the fireworks. If they started lying on the hood looking at the stars when they were teenagers.

-That moment Sam says “felt like Dean” is this moment in the hallway outside of Dean’s hospital room

so what Sam is feeling as Dean is this reassuring, caretaking, determined presence promising not to leave him and promising to fight.

-The spirit board scene is one of my favorite scenes ever. What is it about this scene? There’s this sweet innocence to it, and the fact that they’re reaching across a veil to communicate because they just can’t let go of each other. It makes their relationship look really intimate and separate from everyone else. Sam saying “don’t make fun of me,” Dean grumbling that he feels like he’s at a slumber party, Dean sitting across from Sam and watching him. That moment when Dean touches the planchette, Sam is so happy to actually feel him, and Dean is in awe that he can. They need this contact.

Sam goes “it hasn’t been the same without you, Dean” and then the planchette moves and he says “Dean, what?” and then “Dean is it after you?” Sam really likes saying Dean’s name. He says it all the time. People like saying their crush’s names.

-Sam sits on Dean’s bed, his knee against Dean’s leg, and looks at Dean’s face. Ghost-Dean stands next to Sam, looking at Sam’s face. There’s something really intimate about them gazing at each other like this, with Sam not knowing Dean is looking at him too. They wouldn’t be talking so intimately if Dean were lying there looking back at Sam. Kind of like when you’re talking to someone before bed with the lights out and it feels easier to say what you mean.

-“We were just starting to be brothers again.” If this is them just getting started at being brothers again I would kill to see what they were like at their worst closest.

There’s so much in the word “brother” for them. It comes up over and over. I don’t think they ever do this with any other relationship word- neither ever tries to explain their love for John by saying “he’s my dad” with tears in their eyes. It’s like a sacred title. There’s no way they can express what they are to each other, so they use this word that’s only ever applied to each other and that carries their whole history.

The point their relationship has reached now is that Sam trusts Dean completely, Dean needs Sam, and they’re each others’ top priorities. Were they like that right up until Stanford or did something happen before then?

John wrote in his journal about them not getting along as well as they used to when Sam gets into his teens, and speculates that it’s from living in Dean’s shadow. But John was also aware that his boys had their own world that he didn’t have access to, and even very attentive parents often miss quite a bit of what’s going on with their teenage kids.

What we see in teen-era flashbacks is a Sam who resents Dean for being “cool,” a Dean being protective of Sam but also respectful. We see a girl who’s dating Dean only because she thinks maybe he’s not as much of a tool as he seems based on how sweet he is to his little brother. We have Dean and Sam burning down a field when they sneak away to light fireworks, Sam wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist in delight. And we have Sam only wanting to talk to Dean about a case over the phone-not John- and asking for Dean’s advice. They were still close. We know Sam ran away from home once and Dean was out of his mind worried before finding him.

And based on “Providence” Sam and Dean both know Sam feels some type of way about Dean, which would’ve happened pre-Stanford.

And then Sam didn’t tell Dean about Stanford and they didn’t talk for years and Dean thinks Sam must hate him and Dean hates himself but Sam looks at him like a puppy in love. And now “we were just starting to be brothers again.” I wonder what happened for them to both know why Sam isn’t interested in dating when he’s with Dean, and if it had to do with this.

-Sam asks “can you hear me” to an empty room- Ghost Dean isn’t there. It shows how alone Sam feels without Dean.

-Dean objects to dying because he thinks Sam will die without him. This would be an insane thing to think in any other circumstances but I can see why he would think that (see: the babysitting years, the fire at Stanford, etc).

-Sam loves Dean so ferociously. He fights hard for him. He’s protective of Dean to John the whole episode, and it makes me think he’s always been mad at John not just for himself but for Dean too.

-John tells Dean he will have to either save Sam or kill him. Dean’s contract with John previously was always to save and care for Sam. Now saving him has a different and more religious meaning.

-So John thanks Dean for taking care of both him and Sammy, tells him he may have to kill Sam, and then dies. Iconic.

[alwaysbethewest]

Triple Frontier/Narcos fic: Crossing the Streams

This week is @fleetwoodmactshirt's birthday and I knew I wanted to write her something if I could—it was just a question of what. Frankie Morales making ravioli from scratch? An intimate morning spent with Ezra? Or: this? A deeply self-indulgent (and Fleetwood-indulgent) AU of an AU crossed over with another AU from an entirely different piece of media. It made sense in my head.

This concept is something we've jokingly(?) discussed for years but it always felt too outrageous to actually put to words. Until now. Happy birthday, beloved! I hope this makes you smile.

Title: Crossing the Streams Characters/Pairings: Frankie Morales, Benny Miller, Javier Peña, OFC, Baby Morales, ghost!Reader. Nascent Fishben implied; Javi/OFC implied. Rating: Teen (but maybe Gen) Word count: 1.8k Content/warnings: Crossover of my ghost 'verse and @fleetwoodmactshirt's Javier Peña X-Files AU 🙃 Not really exactly officially a part of the ghost 'verse, but could be considered a spin-off chapter of it maybe. I don't think any particular warnings apply. Reader is a ghost. The OFC listed above is the reader from Fleetwood's AU, and I tried to leave her a blank slate. Javi holds the baby a lot. I fudged the timelines so Javi is older but not as much older as he would be. Unbetaed, so let me know if you spot any mistakes.

You can see the family resemblance immediately. The man standing in the foyer isn’t an exact carbon copy of Francisco, but they could easily be mistaken for brothers. Benny had been the one to answer the door and the visitor is sizing him up, friendly but with a hint of narrow-eyed assessment peeking through. Benny senses it and stands a little straighter, calling over his shoulder, “Fish, they’re here!”

The slap-slap-slap sound of the baby’s hands on the hardwood floor announces her arrival even before she rounds the corner into the hallway, crawling rapidly towards the front door while Francisco ambles behind her. Ben scoops her up before she can reach the threshold, easily hefting her up to his shoulder, while the other men greet each other with a hug.

“Ah, mi sobrino!” Francisco’s uncle gives him an affectionate pat on the cheek. “Te ves bien, Francisco.”

“Hola, tío Javi,” he says with a grin. “Come on in. You met Benny?”

Now that they’re standing side by side you’re able to see the similarities and differences between them. Javier is older by fifteen years or so, his dark hair greying at the temples, slim body still fit but gone a little soft around the middle. He’s cleanshaven but for an attractive, full mustache, and his warm brown eyes are shielded by a pair of glasses with dark, slightly rounded plastic frames.

Javier nods. “I haven’t met this one yet, though,” he says, reaching for Francisco’s daughter. She goes to him without hesitation and he has to catch her chubby hands in his before she can drag his glasses down his nose. He pulls a face at her and she giggles.

“And is your…” Francisco pauses, as if searching for the right word. “Partner outside?”

Javi glances out the open door. “She’s getting some equipment out of the trunk. Listen,” he says, lowering his voice a little, “she takes this stuff seriously and she can be a little—excitable, about it. Take it easy on her, okay?”

This stuff, as it turns out, is investigating the world of the paranormal.

After Francisco’s mom had heard about Santiago’s suspicion that the house was haunted, she’d been the one to suggest he invite tío Javier and his… partner, for a visit. (You understand the hesitation before “partner” as soon as you see her; the energy flowing between them is lit up with something far brighter than a pair of regular, platonic co-workers would ever have. And even someone without your vision might notice the way it takes her a moment to recover from the sight of him with the baby in his arms, or how his hand hovers over the small of her back as they make their way down the hall.)

Francisco leads them into the kitchen, where he sets a pot of coffee brewing.

“You can set her down if you want,” he tells Javi, nodding to the baby’s high chair.

“That’s alright,” he says, taking a seat and easily shifting her into the crook of his arm. He crosses his legs so she’s half in his lap and bounces his thigh, just lightly, offering up his free hand for her to pull and pinch and bite at as she likes to keep her entertained.

His partner is watching from the doorway and you observe with interest how her breathing goes almost imperceptibly unsteady before she gathers herself again.

“So which of you saw the ghost?” she asks Francisco and Benny.

Ben’s eyes shift to the corner where you’re perched on the kitchen counter, but Francisco is already answering for the both of them. “Neither of us,” he tells her. “Our friend Santiago is the one who thinks he saw something.”

She’s taking notes in a pocket-sized notebook.

“And what was it that Santiago saw?”

“Socks,” he says, in a tone that indicates he thinks this is just as silly as it sounds.

“Socks,” she echoes, tilting her head inquisitively.

“Floating in the air.” He makes a vague, floaty gesture with one hand while pouring the coffee with the other.

Tío Javi’s partner finally takes a seat at the table, so she’s not stuck juggling her coffee cup and the notebook. The baby leans towards her, curious, and she gives her a polite smile. “Hello.” Then, struck by a thought, she looks to Francisco again.

“Has the baby seen the ghost?” she asks.

Benny’s eyes widen. Francisco just chuckles. “Not that she’s mentioned,” he says dryly. “Look, I don’t want to be wasting your time. You should know that—I’m not suggesting Santi’s making it up or anything but—the guy’s had more than one concussion before. You know what I’m saying?”

“That’s interesting,” she remarks, jotting it down.

Francisco exchanges a glance with Javier.

“Is it?”

“Well, brain injuries, trauma, near-death experiences—they can open a person’s senses to things that others can’t see,” she explains.

He looks skeptical.

“We’ve all had near-death experiences,” he says, gesturing around the room. He says it so matter-of-factly that she looks startled, and maybe a little concerned. “Ben and I were Special Forces. Tío, I’ve heard your stories from Colombia. We’ve all dealt with some dark shit.”

Javi flattens his mouth in a grim line. Ben is rubbing his knuckles over his lips and you can see the anxiety building in him. The room falls silent for a moment.

“I’m sorry if I upset you,” she says. Under the table, Javi shifts his leg to bump his foot with hers reassuringly.

“No.” Francisco frowns. “I’m sorry. You’re just doing your job. You—I know you brought some gear with you. You’re welcome to check the house, or… do whatever you need. I’ll show you where Santi saw the socks in the air.”

She sets down her pen.

“If you don’t mind.”

Francisco leads her upstairs to the nursery. You’re not sure you want to get anywhere near her ghost-hunting equipment, whatever it may be, so you stick to the kitchen and keep Ben company while he attempts to make conversation with Francisco’s uncle.

“So you worked in Colombia,” he tries. Javi gives a quiet grunt to the affirmative. He doesn’t want to talk about that—you can tell, and Benny figures it out pretty quickly, too.

“Do you—” he starts, but Javi’s already speaking.

“What’s the situation here?” he asks.

“What do you mean?”

“Between you and Frankie.”

You can almost feel the heat radiating off him as the air shimmering around Benny turns a deep, blushing pink.

“There’s no situation,” he says.

“You’re roommates?”

“Yeah—I mean, we’ve been friends for a long time. My lease ended a few months ago and he said I could stay here. He has a guest room,” he adds, a touch defensively.

Javi smiles and nods like he hadn’t meant anything by it.

“What about you?” Benny asks. He nods to the ceiling, where Javi’s partner is upstairs. “You guys seem close. Are you dating her?”

Javi’s placid smile doesn’t falter for a moment, but his eyes narrow a little.

“No,” he says. “She has a guest room, too.”

Ben’s mouth opens, then snaps closed, and the men sit in silence for a moment.

“I think she wants to get down,” he says, gesturing to the baby in Javi’s arms, who’s squirming and lunging forward as if to jump to the floor. He sets her down carefully on all fours and she takes off at speed, leaving Ben to scramble behind her. Javier looks around the empty room, eyes skipping right over you, drains his coffee, and follows suit.

You trail behind him to the living room, where Benny has deposited the baby in the middle of the conversation pit with a basket of toys. Javi stops short, taken aback by the sunken couches.

“Holy shit,” he says. “This place hasn’t been remodeled in a while, huh?”

Benny glances at you, knowing this subject is a sore spot. You’d taken great pride in this house, back when it had belonged just to you, and you’re not sure why everybody keeps wishing to change it now.

“We like it,” he tells him. “It’s got character. Plus, this is like a built-in play pen. She’s too little to climb out.”

Javier sits himself down, spreading his legs comfortably wide in a confident-man sprawl.

“It’s a good house,” he admits. “Quiet neighborhood.”

They watch the baby playing on the floor. You join her there, rolling plastic balls back to her too subtly for Javier to realize they haven’t simply bounced.

“Can I ask you something?” Benny says. Javi raises an eyebrow in assent. “Say there is a ghost—” he starts.

“There isn’t.” Javi narrows his eyes a little, like he’s trying to decide if Benny really believes in something so unfathomable.

Benny is avoiding your gaze.

“But theoretically,” he says. “If there was. What would—I mean—What do you do? Like if the EMF meter or whatever registered something.”

“Well,” Javi replies slowly. “Theoretically, if there was a ghost hanging around I think my partner would tell you there’s something unresolved that they still need. A sense of peace, or…”

He pauses, scratching his chin. Eyes still on the child.

“It’s the same as what anybody wants, right? A sense of fulfillment. So you can move on.”

It makes something feel hollow and fluttery inside your chest, achy like you haven’t felt in a while. Now you’re the one avoiding Ben’s eyes, when he looks at you. You retreat to the corner, wanting to be alone but unwilling to give up eavesdropping on such a rare visit.

Their conversation is cut short by the others’ return. Francisco still looks skeptical and she looks thoughtful. Javi tilts his head back and raises an eyebrow.

“Inconclusive,” she announces. “There were some very interesting readings but nothing concrete. There are some other tests we could—”

“I think this is enough,” Francisco cuts her off gently. “It’s not like any of us have been possessed. If blood starts dripping down the walls, we’ll call you back.”

“Well, for a simple specter I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that,” she assures him. “Blood drips can be indicative of—”

“It was a joke,” he says, and she smiles but she also shrugs like, well, we’ll see.

“Mijo,” Javier says, changing the subject for everyone’s sake. “Pick a restaurant, we’ll go out to dinner, my treat. Your roommate can come too.”

The emphasis he puts on roommate isn’t strong enough for Francisco to pick up on, but Benny does and he shoots Javi a narrow look. Javi gives him an innocent grin and turns back to the baby, who’s been pulling herself up on his pant legs, trying to climb up to her dad since he’d walked in the room. He swings her into his arms and hands her over to Francisco, and after a ten-minute debate over a pizzeria versus a steakhouse, and a five-minute diaper change, the group heads outside.

Alone in the quiet house, you float up to your attic window seat, where you settle in to contemplate tío Javi’s words about things unresolved.

(tiny tag list: @pedrostories, @littlemisspascal, @loversandantiheroes, @by-ilmater, @pettyprocrastination, @littleferal, @pennyserenade)

[juchily]

Yellowjackets (+ relationships) as song lyrics

(most if not all of it is rock ithink) and italics are being rlly weird so please excuse irregularities with that

Ve: tragic angst JackieShauna (Snackie), my beloved. Drug refs

Yellowjackets

"In a crooked little town They were lost and never found Fallen leaves, fallen leaves Fallen leaves on the ground" - Billy Talent's "Fallen Leaves"

"From chagrin I've been released Paint me in a portrait sans The fig leaves, fig leaves And I will not be concerned Or ignore the things I yearn My hunger is the rule I cannot overturn" - Dirt Poor Robin's "Enchanté"

"We are the angry and the desperate The hungry, and the cold We're the ones who kept quiet And always did what we were told" - Rise Against's "Prayer of the Refugee"

Literal all of "'Shia Labeouf' Live' by Rob Cantor

Natalie Scatorccio

"I've got a new low All fifty two cards in a row I see now that I won't let go No I won't let go

Well who am I? A cold shoulder left to cry You feel bad, well so do I Yeah so do I" - Middle Class Rut's "New Low"

"Did I try, did I try to make amends? To live and die or did I really just pretend? Nightmare's talking as I'm sleepwalking And I can't stop thinking" - Bad Wolves's "If Tomorrow Never Comes"

Lottie Matthews

"You can't breathe until you choke You gotta laugh when you're the joke There's nothing like a funeral to make you feel alive

Just open your eyes Just open your eyes And see that life is beautiful. Will you swear on your life, That no one will cry at my funeral?" - Sixx:A.M.'s "Life Is Beautiful"

"I raised myself My legs were weak I prayed my mind be good to me

An awful noise Filled the air I heard a scream in the woods somewhere

...

How many years I know I'll bear I found something in the woods somewhere" - Hozier's "In The Woods Somewhere"

Misty Quigley

"'Cause you don't talk to the water boy And there's so much you could learn But you don't wanna know You will not back up an inch ever That's why you will not survive" - Spoon's "The Underdog"

Shauna Shipman

"Strawberry lipgloss, oh, it's wasted On this dumb boy who likes the chase

But why am I so angry in the first place? Why am I hurting?" - Nxdia's "She Likes a Boy"

Jackie Taylor

"Maybe you were wrong and I was right I don't care, won't you stay another night? I just need some time to be myself I couldn't say "I need you" on that night When you left and I lost all track of time I just want you close so I can feel you Can you feel me? Mmm" - Prateek Kuhad's "Co2"

Taissa Turner

"This is unbecoming of me It's like my own reflection's not what it used to be Tryna figure out where I missed I'll never find the answer, it's just the way it is" - Saint Asonia's "So What"

Van Palmer

"I'm on fire" - Pitbull's "Fireball"

Laura Lee

"Early days and sleepless nights Death and resurrection, life My body is a sacred note Sung between the flesh and hope My dirt transformed within a breath Before I took a single step I'm looking forward to the day When life can grow without decay" - half·alive's "creature"

Travis Martinez

"'Cause so badly I wanna go outside. (Such a lovely day) But everyone knows that a man ain't suppose to cry, listen. I gotta cry 'cause cryin' eases the pain, oh yeah. People this hurt I feel inside, words can never explain. I just wish it would rain. (Oh, how I wish that it would rain)" - The Temptations's "I Wish It Would Rain"

Jackie x Shauna

"I've been cold in the crypt But not as the cold as the words across your lips You'll be sorry baby some day When you reach across the bed where my body used to lay" - Three Days Grace's "Chalk Outline"

""Come on in, boy" said the skeletons Sitting by her closet door Dirty secrets, empty memories And broken hearts across the floor I was knocked out, heels over head So you dragged me by my feet To a ghost town, where you buried me No wonder no one heard my screams

Love's so alive, but it died in it's sleep And now that it's dead I live in your head And I will haunt your fucking dreams" - Set It Off's "The Haunting"

Taissa x Van

"Well, I'm not the world's most passionate guy But when I looked in her eyes, well, I almost fell for my Lola Lo-Lo-Lo-Lo-Lola Lo-Lo-Lo-Lo-Lola" - The Kinks's "Lola"

"Believe me you really don't have to worry I only wanna make you happy and if you say "hey go away" I will But I think better still I'd better stay around and love you Do you think I have a case let me ask you to your face Do you think you love me?" - The Partridge Family's "I Think I Love You"

Lottie x Laura Lee

"Maybe in another life I could find you there Pulled away before your time I can't deal, it's so unfair" - The Offspring's "Gone Away"

Lottie x Nat

"Tell me who you are Your father has forsaken you Left you with those scars My hope is that you'll make it through Hate must never win Even when we're worlds apart Your love is not a sin Even if it's hard" - Falling In Reverse's "Coming Home"

Travis x Nat

"I am still dreaming of your face Hungry and hollow for all the things you took away I don't wanna be your good time I don't wanna be your fall-back crutch anymore" - Everclear's "Santa Monica"

Laura Lee x Nat

"I thought love was only true in fairy tales Meant for someone else but not for me Love was out to get me, that's the way it seemed Disappointment haunted all my dreams

And then I saw her face Now I'm a believer" - Smash Mouth's "I'm A Believer"

Jackie x Nat

"I just feel so out of place Well, except for when you're near me When you're gone, I'm like a plant with no root Or a song that's on mute Don't you dare call it cute! You should fear me!" - Kaden MacKay's "Your Stupid Face"

Adult TaiNat

"Maybe you should just fall And leave the world and lose it all And if that's what you need To finally see I'll be with you through it all

Bring on the pills, roll the dollar bill Medicating will never heal Relapse, rehab, repeat Always thinking about the me, me, me

Self-destruct, spiral down Until your want becomes your need Please get up like I know you can Or forever love the fall" - Nothing More's "Jenny"

Adult MistNat

"Nothing in the world that I do means a thing without you I'm just half alive in my struggle to survive without you" - Frank Sinatra's "My Way Of Life"

This has been sitting in my draft for like, a week now, and I needed to get it outta there, reblog with songs/song lyrics you think fits a Yellowjackets character -🦎

[queen-scribbles]

ooooh, how about 15. "You definitely needed the sleep." for Ves/Kurt

Absolutely, and thank you for your patience <3 ---

invincible

For most of Vesper's life, Kurt had seemed invincible.

She knew he wasn't invulnerable; she was intimately familiar with his scars. She'd helped patch up the wounds responsible for a few of them, even. But ever since the day he walked into the D'Orsay estate to train her and Constantin, through their settling into life on Tir Fradi, nothing stopped him and very few things slowed him down. And while Vesper had scolded him about not taking enough time to heal or minimizing injuries, he was--damn him--usually right about things not being that bad.

Perhaps that was why he proved a fantastically awful patient when he actually got sick.

Vesper only caught it because he was burning up when he came to kiss her goodbye.

"I feel fine, Green Blood," he insisted when she tried to pull him back. And he looked fine. Perhaps a trifle paler than usual, but nothing to raise alarms. It took twenty minutes, the 'for me' card, and pointing out if he had something contagious he didn't want to spread it to the rest of the Guard, did he? for Kurt to finally relent. Vesper stayed home as well, despite his protests of not wanting to get her sick. She didn't trust his definition of taking it easy any more than she did his definition of not that bad. By the end of the day the signs were a little more apparent.

She spent two days fighting to convince him to stay in bed, to rest. And then the next two panicking when he stopped fighting her about it. His fever was worse, alternating with chills, as well as other symptoms Vesper couldn't map to any illness she knew from the Continent.

It wasn't the malichor, but that didn't stop her from having nightmares about her mother and Constantin. On the rare and brief occasions she dozed off.

"You look like a ghost, carants," Síora scolded when Vesper sought her advice.

"I'm fine," Vesper waved it off, rubbing her eyes. She took a deep breath. "I'm just worried about him...." She twisted a lock of hair absently around her finger as she explained the illness' symptoms and progression, hoping, maybe, it was something native Síora would recognize.

She did. The yecht fradi name was a bit much for Vesper to get her tongue around, but it was in essence a swamp fever. It tended to linger a week from the first symptom, though some cases were up to twice that. All but the very old, very young, or very frail tended to recover without lasting ill effects.

"And Kurt's none of those..." Vesper murmured, looking toward the half-open door to their room. She could see him dozing, wondered if he was awake enough to overhear.

"Indeed, he should be fine." Síora reached over, and it wasn't until her hand covered Vesper's that she realized she'd been picked a hangnail viciously enough to draw blood. "I know it is frightening, but from all I know of this illness, he will be alright. You need not worry too much." She squeezed Vesper's hand. "Or about yourself; having the bond seems to grant an immunity to this particular sickness. You and I have no fears, though the others should keep away for now."

Vesper nodded, gesturing toward the door. "Tell him that next time he's awake and not half-delirious with fever; the only thing he's worse about than staying in bed is letting me take care of him," she said with a shaky laugh.

"Do you want me to take a turn?"

"I couldn't ask that-" Vesper started to protest.

Síora shook her head. "You are both important to me, gred a síreís, both my carants. I know ways to ease the effects, and you need rest."

"But I won't," Vesper said. "The... the other times I've tried I just... I see my mother; as she was, with the malichor, crumbling to dust. I see... Constantin." She had to swallow around the lump of panic in her throat. "Twisted and turning until naught but a-a facsimile of a diseased tree remains. I know this is different, but..." She bit her lip. "We used to think Kurt was invincible, Constantin and I, when we were young. Nothing stopped him; not illness or injury or anything. He'd sometimes leave on Guard business for a day or so and come back with a new scar or willingness to go easy on training for the next few days. But he never stopped. The entire time I'm known him, Síora, nothing's stopped him. It drives me crazy sometimes that he doesn't seem to care about himself, even if some would call that level of dedication admirable. It just makes something like this even more stark."

"I understand," Síora said. "Let me help, Vesper. Try to get some rest, even if you think it futile. And we will do what we can to break this quickly, for both your sakes."

---

Much as Síora's aid--and reassurances--loosened the fist in her chest, Vesper couldn't bring herself to fully relax. Not yet. Not while Kurt was still pale as the sheets and damp with sweat and barely aware of her or Síora's presence.

It didn't help when his fever persisted past the week mark.

She said one to two weeks, Vesper reminded herself, running her fingers down the side of Kurt's face. He was still so hot, turning toward the coolness of her touch even in his sleep. And he's not having difficulty breathing or any of the other more dire symptoms. It'll be fine.

She ran her fingers through his hair and watched him breathe for a minute, the sheen of sweat pooling slightly around the scars that marked his shoulders. Vesper brushed it away with a cool cloth. "You're so stubborn it makes sense any illness that manages to take hold would have to be as well, I suppose," she murmured, bending to kiss his forehead.

It was certainly that; holding on for two more days before relinquishing its grip. Vesper, however, missed the moment they turned that corner because two days of no sleep following a week of hardly any finally caught up with her.

She drifted off perched on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the headboard with one leg trailing on the floor and her hand loosely resting atop Kurt's. She awoke to the wonderful and familiar sensation of his thumb rubbing the heel of her hand.

Vesper jolted further awake with a mumbled "sorry", heart thundering as she shifted to better face him, relishing the simple touch.

"For what?" Kurt rasped, his voice hoarse from disuse. "If I can trust my memory at all, you definitely needed the sleep."

"You aren't wrong, I just..." she leaned in to kiss his temple, "I was worried about you."

A faint smile tugged his lips. "Which I appreciate." He gingerly levered himself into a more sitting position even as Vesper squeezed his hand to convey he shouldn't push it. "But you need t' take care of yourself, too, Ves."

"I..." How did she explain it? The connections her mind had made, no matter how tenuous, the fear that gripped her, seeing him so sick. "I couldn't sleep anyway."

Kurt studied her a moment, his thumb still rubbing the heel of her hand. "How long...?"

"Just over a week," Vesper murmured.

Something flickered in his eyes. "Sorry I scared you so bad."

She tipped her head, unwilling to lie in denial. "I've never seen you get sick before," she said softly, studying him in turn. His color was better, shine of sweat gone, but there were still traces of gauntness that made it impossible to deny what happened. He still looked tired. She forced a smile and tried to joke. "I was starting to think illnesses were afraid of you, good captain."

Kurt snorted and ran his free hand over his hair. "Prob'ly because I haven't had worse than the sniffles in over a decade. Suppose I was due..."

"Oh, is that how it works?"

He gave a half-hearted shrug. " 'M just glad you didn't catch it; if you were in here half as much as it seemed."

"Oh, no worries on that front," Vesper said. He arched a brow in silent inquiry, so she elaborated, "Síora said it's a swamp-borne fever they see crop up this time of year. Sín ol menawí are immune."

"Guess that makes you lucky as well as sweet, Excellency," Kurt murmured, almost playful, but some rust still hanging on the words. He let go of her hand to reach up and trace her mark.

"Luckier that I still have you," she demurred. The risk may not have been that severe, but it had been extremely hard to keep that in mind. "I am sorry for dragging you on that mission to Védvílvie, exposing you to something Síora and I don't-"

"You say that like it was somewhere I didn't wanna go," he cut her off fondly, his thumb tracing her chin before he cupped her cheek. "Wherever you are is always where I'll want to be, my sweet Excellency, no matter the risk."

"You aren't always the only one who pays for that risk, though," Vesper pointed out, leaning into his touch. He was fine now, no matter how scared she'd been. He was. "And before you get any bright ideas, Captain, even if I get back to work, you need to stay right here and rest at least a couple more days." Don't need you relapsing.

"Though you might say that." He didn't seem as annoyed as she expected. "For the time being, though, you need to catch up on your rest as well, don't you?"

"Nicely maneuvered," Vesper chuckled. She leaned in to kiss him, then resumed their previous position, their shoulders now pressed together. She reached for his hand to intertwine their fingers, and Kurt tugged hers closer to kiss the knuckles before letting them settle.

They drifted off together, and the weight of his head on her shoulder gave Vesper the first clear sleep she'd had in over a week. He might not be invincible, but he was still here, and that was all she cared about.

[chaoticxbeast]

@raptorprowl

A van screeched to an aggressive stop next to them, and Donnie leaned out of the window with a little wave. "Hey guys. Hop in! Raph, you get in the back. Guests get to sit in the front."

"You just wanna show off the new computer, don´t you?"

"Well yea. And I think you mean Kusanagi. That´s her name you know."

"It´s not a she." Raph said, and got into the van, and took a seat behind the drivers-seat.

"That´s not up to you. She can be a she..it´s 2024." Don said.

To humans ( or to anyone who didn´t know them ) Don looked a lot like Raph, but for those who had a keen eye, their differences were several. Don was shorter, had a smaller, less stocky build and in general softer features. Looking a lot like a typical nerd, with headphones around his neck, a pair of black glasses on his beak, and a fannypack on his belt for extra storage. He also had a kind, honest and open expression on his face, and as a younger voice, as if he was a late bloomer. Nothing about that seemed to affect his self confidence though.

The van has space for about seven people, but three seats had been taken out to make extra space for storage. The inside of the van was pimped up with lights along the floor, modern sturdy leather seats ( that seemed easily customizable to make more room, or to turn around, if needed ) lot of little trinkets Don was working on, some bananas, anime stickers and toys from various popular anime shows, but most of all the high tech dash stood out.

The dashboard contained a long touch screen that stretched across the dashboard. The screen was buzzing with information, on things like reports on traffic problems, some news updates, text messages from Splinter, to a live map with twitters from the police, and some kind of AI; that looked like a green female form that slowly spun, floating in a fetus position. She looked just like the protagonist from the ghost of the shell anime movie. Yes..it was a naked lady.

"My name is Donnie. Nice to meet you. I like your style, it´s cool!" Donnie said with a smile, offering to shake Nero´s hand."

"Master Donnie. There is a stranger in the van. A human." The computer said.

"That´s right." Donnie patted the dashboard proudly, before swiveling the wheel. "Great job on noticing Kusanagi."

"Thank you." The computer replied, updating its memory in response to the positive feedback.

"Is there any problems in traffic right now, Kusa?"

"Give me a moment. Scanning.."

"Sure" Don said, contently.

"There is a traffic jam across George washington bridge."

"Do you have to chat with the van like it´s an actual person?" Raph said impatiently. I mean it´s cool with a computer and all but."

"Raphael, I am an actual person." The computer replied, and Raph rolled his eyes"

"Don´t mess with her, Raph, she´ll remember this you know. You don´t want her not to like you.. Anyways shut up for a moment, I need ask her for the best route to the junkyard."

"Memory updated. State which junkyard."

"Maybe you should get some more actual friends Don."

"Noted. Master Donnie should get more actual friends." The computer repeated, and Raph laughed.

"Big junkyard and Autogallery." Donnie then glanced back at Raph, turning the car. " Raph I´ve got more friends than you." Don said, with a little laugh."

"Noted. Master Donatello has more friends than Raphael." The computer replied, updating it´s memory.

"Remind me to work on your programming later, because I can´t let Raph fill your memory with his lies."

"Noted. Fastest route to ...big junkyard and autogallery is ready."

[tuliptired]

Cool Girl, The Kind your Mother Thinks are Trouble (Ch 2/3)

Pairing: Phoebe Spengler/Melody

Of course my computer had to freak out when I started this

I've never wrote the name "Phoebe" as many times as I have just now

read on Ao3 for better formatting!

The firehouse was cold. Gary thought he was doing her a favor by turning up the AC while they ran errands. Phoebe should be mad, she was benched, after all, pretty much tethered to her room. She was benched, and it was absolutely freezing. But she felt warm, the inside of her body sickeningly hot as she sat up from her bed. Fate, as she learned, was waiting on her.

Speak of the devil, the phone was ringing, shrill and high tone bouncing off the walls. How long had it been going? She rushed to answer it, socks sliding on the worn floor.

¨Hey.¨

The warmth she was feeling in her thorax spread across her entire body. Melody.

¨Hello?¨

¨I think we have a ghost. At the diner.¨ There was silence on both sides of the phone.

¨Can you come and save me?” 

The phone was slammed down onto the receiver. Phoebe barely breathed as she squeezed her brown boots on, left on the right foot and right on the left foot. She left the front of her suit unzipped, proton pack haphazardly slung across her back. Melody Diner. Where was Melody Diner? It must´ve been somewhere near the park. She ran on autopilot, literally speed walking her away around with a trap in her hand. She didn't really know why she was in such a rush to get there. But she could bust ghosts, with…Melody there. That sounded a little more than nice.

She stopped in front of various buildings briefly, surveying their names. There? No, that's a laundromat. There? No, a Chinese restaurant. Her shoes came screeching to a halt on the sidewalk as she recognized the building. Melody Diner.

The overhead bell chimed as she pushed the door open, gingerly. She never did anything gingerly. ¨Ghostbusters,¨ she called out. ¨You called about…a ghost.¨ Duh.

Phoebe honed in on the jukebox in the corner, letting out a droning hum. As she reached for her gun, someone popped up from behind the counter, arms up above their head. Phoebe flinched backwards, proton pack making contact with the glass door behind her. Melody doubled over on the counter laughing, as she tried her best to catch her breath again.

¨Did I scare you?” Her smile was winsome. She had oddly perfect teeth. Phoebe’s eye twitched subconsciously.

She pushed up her glasses. “Sure.” Melody made her way around to the other side of the counter. That’s what she was wearing that night, a diner uniform, not a dress. “Where’s the ghost?” 

“It flew away. My aunt’s on her lunch break. Are you hungry?”

So they sat in a little corner, eating fries made in the deep fryer Melody technically wasn’t allowed to use by herself. Phoebe had a question nagging at her as she could hear Melody’s black boots occasionally knock against the trap now under the table, but she figured she could wait until after the story about the cat family by the dumpster.

“How’d you know where to find me?” She wiped her hands, a hobby picked up whenever she ate. 

Melody swallowed. “Your mom was on the news when your…ambulance thing ripped a tree out the ground. You have the same nametag,” she reaches across the table, pointing to the embroidery on her chest. 

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Phoebe leaned on her arms. She was supposed to be mad about the whole thing. But the feeling behind her words didn’t feel angry, it felt like relief. Like she wanted to talk to someone about this, and it’d be okay.

Melody shrugged. “I think I get it.” Phoebe blinked. No one’s ever really “got it” before, if anything they just made assumptions. But some part of her trusted Melody to get it.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” She paused, eyes scanning Phoebe’s face like she was under a microscope. “Do you like doing it? Catching ghosts?”

Phoebe clenched her fists. “It’s what I live for.” Half truth. It was half of what she lived for.

“Then I think…you should keep doing it. Break the rules, if it makes you happy.” She said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. Phoebe puzzled over her easy morality- she knew what she knew was right and what she knew was wrong. Melody made life easy. Digestible.

Phoebe let herself laugh. “That’s all I’ve been doing lately.” As Melody’s grin grew, there was another chime of the front door. She leans out the booth, waving to the woman that must be her  aunt. She can’t see Phoebe from where she is, and she somewhat prefers it that, if it’ll save Melody from getting in trouble. A few patrons came in once they noticed the diner was open again, and Phoebe discreetly pulled her upper body free from the flight suit and proton pack, tying the arms around her waist.

Melody eventually had to help her aunt again, reluctantly getting back to work, though making sure she stayed in Phoebe’s line of sight. Their conversation through eye contact made Phoebe appreciate being unseen, just this once. It wasn’t until there was a low rumbling from the kitchen that she used her voice again.

“Is it always that loud?” She questioned, not knowing what “it” was. Melody looked over her shoulder in the middle of wiping the counter, her expression not what Phoebe was hoping for. As she opened her mouth to answer, the sound of a deep freezer toppling over shook the restaurant, and a ghastly entity flew out. In the chaos, a customer managed to get their phone out and dialed a particular phone number.

Callie pushed the front door open, takeout in hand, though there was no time to eat. As she put it back on the receiver, she pushed the alarm button. 

“Should we get Phoebe?” Trevor zipped up his flight suit, eyeing the ceiling. Callie shook her head, closing her locker.

The keys to the Ecto were still in her pants pocket, and she sighed as she had to zip down again. “She’s still pretty mad.” Callie fished them out, zipping up again. Her and the two boys piled into the car.

“She can’t just, like, sit in the backseat or something?” Trevor couldn’t help but feel a little bad for his sister. He could imagine how crappy she must be feeling all alone, all day. 

Callie raised an eyebrow at that. “Like a dog? She’d hate me even more.” She palmed Gary the keys. “She’ll be fine, Trevor. Thank you for caring.” 

Gary started down the streets of New York. “Poor kid. I hope she comes around.” Callie hummed in agreement. Phoebe was, generally, a good kid. A great kid, even. But she just…had a streak of reckless behavior when someone got in her path. She silently hoped to herself that she was in her room, cursing the world like every other angry teenaged girl as the car pulled up to the curb of a little diner.

Gary pushed the door open, and they rushed inside, guns literally blazing, examining the room.

“Ghostbusters,” Trevor started, sneakers slowing down as he noticed the calm atmosphere. Everyone in the room looked at them like they were aliens. “You called about a ghost?” Duh.

Callie looked around, stopping as she noticed Phoebe. Before her instincts made her yell, scold her for leaving home, she noticed a girl about her age sitting next to her, shoulder to shoulder as they both finished milkshakes. The blonde stranger said something, making Phoebe laugh, full and unashamed.

“Phoebe?”

“I already got rid of it,” she just short of rolled her eyes.

“You snuck out? Phoebe- you’re supposed to be-”

“Mom, can you calm down? I came to see my friend.” Her eyes pointed to the girl on her right, who gave Callie a polite wave. Her eyebrows shot up, before she remembered herself, waving back.

“I’m Callie” First name basis?

“Melody.” Callie nodded slowly, turning to Gary, who looked just as astonished as she did. 

“Do you need us to take you home later, Phebes?”

“I can walk.” 

She walked to the counter slowly, eyes flickering to Phoebe like she was a wild animal. “Trevor, are you hungry?” She pulled some spare cash out of one of her suit’s pockets.

“But we just got-” he was cut off as mom-shoes stepped over his toes, hard. As they sat at the counter, waiting on their food, they spared glances at the two teenagers.

Phoebe looked the best she had since she was officially grounded. She was smiling. A full smile, where both of the wolfish canines she inherited from her grandfather flashed themselves to the world. The line formed from her brows sitting along her eyes had virtually vanished.

“Sorry. About them.” Phoebe’s cheeks burned in the presence of her family as the trio finished and got ready to leave. Melody just ate the cherry out her glass. 

“My family’s weirder, I promise,” she licked the ice cream off her thumb. 

“Weirder than Trevor? Or Gary?” Phoebe looked at her incredulously. 

“Maybe.” She bumped her shoulder against Phoebe’s. There was that warmth again. 

“Is she sick?” Trevor speculated, pulling his seatbelt on. Callie smiled approvingly to herself. 

“Sure.”

[dr-abitat-blog]

Day 20: "I am absolutely not qualified for this shit."

@ailesswhumptober

T/W: Multiple whumpees, violence, blood, torture, restraints, chaotic rescue.

Eclipse, Freeze, Magnetic, Lyall (March), Mirage, Slade and Ghost belong to @whumpsmith whilst Frostbringer, Circuit and Wheeler belong to @illustriousshadow

Today’s been…quite a day.

I’ve been involved in my fair share of cases as a hero-in-training — but nothing at all like this. The demon that lies dormant in one of my friend’s dads deciding to come out to play and wrecking chaos across the whole city. Every available super being called in to control him. I will never underestimate a demon again. On one hand, the whole experience has given me a wealth of fresh writing material for my next supernatural novel, but on the other hand — I appreciate that we’re lucky to be alive, let alone still standing. So many people have been injured, or just completely broken themselves with over-exertion of their powers. I…am bloody exhausted. It’s a miracle I can still hold myself up on my two feet. I feel like I’m about to crash at any second. My suit is practically caked with dirt and sweat from my earlier fight. Both of my eyelids are heavy from exhaustion, my muscles silently screaming in protest. All I want right now is to flop down onto bed, close my eyes and sleep for a very long time — but that will have to wait until after we’ve finished supporting the other injured supers. That’s what I’ve been doing with the other standing sidekicks for the last hour or so, running here and there to grab supplies, support the medical staff, check in on my fellow sidekicks — just as any cohort leader would do. 

I’m just glad none of them were seriously hurt…

Still, things finally seem to be dying down a little in terms of what I can actually help with. The possibility of sweet, sweet sleep comes closer and closer. I can almost—

"Kinetica!”

I quickly spin around, my eyes widening as I recognise the head of the clinic — who also happens to be the head of the Sidekick Programme.

“Dr Slade, what—”

“I need you to go join the other three at the reception. I have an important assignment for you lot."

It takes every bit of my effort not to groan aloud.

Another assignment?

“Got it,” I reply, forcing myself to straighten up, “I’ll head over there right now.”

As he brushes past me, I notice the uncharacteristically grim expression on his face. Whatever he wants us to do must be pretty important. With that in mind, I don’t waste a second as I quickly change course to head to the reception. By the time I arrive there, my fellow sidekicks are already present — at least, the ones still standing.

“Oh, there you are. He asked you too then?”

“Looks like it,” Freeze Frame responds, shrugging her shoulders.

“Do you guys have any idea what he wants?” Ghost asks, shuffling on the spot, “He seemed…rather frantic.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Freeze murmurs, “They only just got all the phone lines working again and then he just yelled at us all to come here.”

“Yeah, he was definitely stressing about something,” Eclipse adds, running a hand through his dark hair, “I thought the worst was over?” I open my mouth to speak, but Dr Slade’s footsteps quickly round the corner, accompanied by Magnetic Girl, one of the city’s newest qualified heroes. 

I guess we’ll find out soon enough.

And we do. That grim expression not once leaving his face, he doesn’t waste a single breath in relaying our mission to us. Said mission is simple in theory— infiltrate a shadow-jumping supervillain’s lair to rescue three captive supers, one of which just happens to be one of Dr Slade’s sons and my former classmate, Phoenix.

“Um, why us, Doctor?” Eclipse asks, frowning, “I thought they said we weren’t allowed to do more?”

"Well, to be frank, it's not ideal, but you are one of the few still standing," he answers quickly "Also, you'll be going to Massachusetts, where there's no laws regarding sidekick activity or age restrictions, but nor is there a very flexible cooperation with local law enforcement, so watch yourselves while you're out there."

“Do we have any more information?” Magnetic Girl asks, fighting to keep her voice level, “A-Ash, Al, Lyall, are they all—”

“All I know is that Circuit and Frostbringer — two of their friends — and Phoenix have all endured torture. Verdigris and March Hare set out to rescue them some time ago, but they believe it isn’t going well.”

My eyes widen.

Oh God, I hope they’re not badly hurt—

“They’re going to need the backup. Magnetic Girl and Mirage will be in charge. The latter will jump you and then you’ll have to scope the situation from there,” he continues, “Any questions?”

All of us remain silent. “Arite. Get a caffeine pill for energy and get going. We’ll be ready on standby for any injuries. Kinetica, you’ll back up Magnetic Girl as leader. Understood?”

N-no pressure…

Still, it’s not much different from anything else we’ve done. An infiltration, a rescue mission — we’ve done it several times. This time can’t be much different. 

How hard could it be? I’m pretty much qualified by now.

With as confident an expression as I can, I firmly nod my head.

“Understood.”

Glancing back at my fellow sidekicks, I pull a pill from my pocket and crunch down on it.  “Let’s get going.”

…I must have jinxed us. That can be the only explanation for what is happening in front of us. 

“O-oh my God!”

After jumping from the Coral HQ to the suspected location of the supervillain’s lair — one shadow-jumping ‘Wheeler’ — we quickly found our captive friends. I was expecting them to be locked in cages or tied up or something. Something simple and easy to free them from. 

Not…this.

“Wh-what the hell?!” Eclipse’s exclamation is answered only by the agonised screaming and yelling ripping around the large chamber. I spin around rapidly, my eyes broadening in horror at the nightmare being played out before us. I’ve watched plenty of horror movies before, including the ones with the inescapable death traps, but this takes it to a whole new level. My black hair whips my back as I take every bit of it in. 

First – Phoenix, his wrists shackled to the ground into a kneeling position, doubling over in agony. Black blood stains his uniform. Copious amounts of the stuff come dribbling out of his mouth as his muscles spasm.

Next — Frostbringer, lying in chains on the ground, blindfolded. Fallen debris lies scattered around him, some of it pinning his legs. Blood pools out from under him. Ropes hang from the ceiling, suspending giant pieces of rock above him, a long steel blade inches from dropping the next one.

Then — Circuit, wrists cuffed behind his back, thrashing his green hair around with a terrified wail. The chain around his waist tightens, dragging him closer and closer to a dark ominous pit. I…don’t even want to imagine what might be at the bottom.

After him — Verdigris. I can just about see him under the giant wooden board he’s chained under, gasping and crying out from the weight of the rocks crushing him on the board. I swear I hear a snapping sound as he screams pitifully in pain.

And then lastly — March Hare. He sits at the very top, tears streaming down his face. He is forced to the ground, a noose cutting into his neck, his frantic guilt-ridden shrieks muffled through the thick rag tied extremely tightly between his teeth. I almost miss the needle jabbed into his neck, visibly draining him of blood with every single struggle.

The screams, the cries, the agonising snapping and whirring. The shadow jumping maniac who appears right behind our mortified group. I can only utter a single sentence.

“...I am absolutely not qualified for this shit.”

And with that damning declaration, we find ourselves violently thrust into the mission.

"Leave the villain to me.”

Without warning, Magnetic Girl yanks out a tranquiliser, throwing it viciously at Wheeler. I barely have time to process before the other three sidekicks immediately spin around to face me. “What do we do?" Eclipse asks hurriedly, "or more like, where do we start?"

All of their wide eyes on me. Me. The leader of our small group. I feel the doubt and insecurities spiking again, especially at the severity of our situation.

“No! L-Lyall—LYALL!”

“G-guys — nngha! D-don’t die!”

Their helpless desperate screams pull me straight back into focus.

They all need you, Cass. You’ve got this.

"O-okay. Okay. Ghost, try and catch Circuit. Freeze, see if you can slow down the bad guys or any of the falling debris on Frostbringer — you’ll want to hurry!”

I direct them as firmly as I can with wild hand gestures. My mind whirs at a million miles a minute. “And uh—Eclipse, we'll get Verdigris! We also need to break their cuffs, that's what's suppressing their powers! Once we've got them out, we'll grab March and Phoenix, okay? Now move!”

There’s no time for questions. No time to process. All we can do is send a brief encouraging nod before leaping to the heart of the action.

[thegamingcatmom]

Good evening, lovely Cat Mom! 👋🏻😸💖

I hope that this message finds you well.. aka feeling wonderfully insane, feeding the delightful dark things in your mind, and continuing to fuel your obsession with our favourite undead Mommy! 😌💞

I felt it necessary that this particular part of your reply to one of my asks deserves its own little response from me because [ *sounds of lesbian feral screaming into her pillow* ] 😩😻

(Tbh I´ve been itching to use the term "mate" for our poor little Drama Queen for a while now because it´s got such a feral feeling to it and it tells us quite a bit about Momma´s inner workings because mate is basically the equivalent to mine mine mine now and forever and there´s probs lots of biting going on and mating dance and courting and chasing is foreplay and also brrrrrrrrrr and 🥵)

As a lover of A/B/O fiction and primal kink stuff.. this sort of thing drives me crazy! It makes me vibrate with need! 🥴😵‍💫 Therefore, I am obviously eternally grateful for you seeing reader as Momma’s mate, and viewing Ellie as an alpha, and including those descriptors in your writing.

As soon as there is any sort of mention of things such as: being someone’s mate, being owned, the alpha / omega dynamic, predator / prey roles, foreplay in the form of being chased / hunted, being marked or bitten as a form of visible ownership, claiming / being claimed, mating, and breeding.. I am done for! 🥵😮‍💨

RIP me.. in the best possible way! 😻💘

Also, this little snippet from your reply to someone else’s ask:

“..clearly you approve of her display of strength, of showing who’s at the top of the food chain - an apex predator, an alpha-“

Upon reading that line alone:

I am feeling rather insane over Momma’s mating dance, as her showing off her alpha prowess and proving herself to be more than a worthy mate for reader involving her slaughtering those who she sees as possible competition ( aka absolutely anyone! ) in front of you to impress you, and leaving absolute carnage and utter chaos in her wake in her attempts to court you, is just so.. afshdkfkehshdkhddhaaaaaagh! 🤤

Where do I sign up for an unhinged woman to treat me this way? SIGN ME UP! 🖊️🙏🏻

AIGHT YALL please do line up right here-

*gestures losely to the hole that´s opened up*

- for a one-way ticket to hell.

But be warned because it´s swarmed with unhinged, murderous, demonic women lusting after your flesh and blood and other bodily fluids and limbs might get sent flying absolutely everywhere SO strong is their desire, their instinct to climb inside your body so that you can be one now and forever because they need to be with you every second every step like a leech and eternity can be rather long lemme tell ya so it is strongly advised to proceed with caution and take a moment to think very carefully about-

...alright then.

(Yall thirsty af, shame on you.)

But where are my manners?!

HELLAW lovely ghost aka was Mommy! 🥰💕

Your messages are always so fucking sweet and thoughtful I- 🥺💗🥺💗🥺💗🥺

ALSO, reading through your ask made me realize how utterly delicious deranged!Maggot Momma sounds even thought that´s literally my view of her so I SHOULD know how it sounds but seeing someone else wrapping it all up so nicely and with these words (alpha prowess made me melt) is just another thing entirely and makes me feel things. 🥵🥵🥵🥵

(Also, I feel it necessary to point out that my brain is a fountain of insanity and it doesn´t look like it´s gonna be exhausted anytime soon.)

And AOSFNASLNÖSAGANK primal!Momma is delicious ain´t she?? And just thinking about anything involving A/B/O universe with Maggot Momma is- I-

IDEAS THOUGHTS FEELS-

OKAY LISTEN,

I think it´s become quite clear by now that I, indeed, view Momma as the alpha, the leader of the pack (of Undeads). There´s this certain dynamic going on between her and the other Deadites/demons and it´s very likely I´m going to delve deeper into that in the future because pack dynamics (especially of the demonic kind) are just a special kind of 🥵

My recent work is a pretty good example of what we can expect of Momma & The Pack in the future and how she deals with things like insubordination.

...Insubordination concerning that bunch of misfits of course. Not her perfect Drama Queen because her mate can do no wrong because they´re perfect and if yall ever dare even implying such a thing then Momma´s personally gonna drag your ass to hell where you can rot for all eternity.

But yeah, it´s basically Maggot Momma constantly feeling this need to prove herself and gallavant about - showing everyone that alpha prowess - because not only does it secure her place as the top dog but (she thinks) it also lets her have allll the puss-

I mean-

As with all (or most) animals, the only things that matter when it comes to laying claim to a female are strength and size. And Momma´s got both.

[afluffyfriend]

This is gonna be a bit (or a lot...) of a yapfest but with TPOT 13 coming out, it made me reflect on all the contestants in TPOT. And since I have the never-ending urge to spread my opinions at any and all opportunities, I made a tier list!

I would like to add that this is mostly focused on how they're portrayed in TPOT and also, will have some spoilers for TPOT 13! So be carefulll ooooo.... (read that like its a ghost)

i don't get it - I don't mind Yellow Face or TV, I just expected them to leave a lot earlier. It feels weird to look at the rest of the cast and see all these characters that I like, and also these two who are also here. They just don't do much for me. Clearly they do for someone though, so I'm happy for that little club of lucky ducks. And I'm sorry for calling you lucky ducks, I don't know why I said that.

no strong feelings either way - Self explanatory, no? I do like some of the dynamics they bring. Puffball and GB getting along by just messing shit up for everyone else was fun and uh... Grassy and SB is cool too? I'm sorry!! I just don't got much to say here.

Like, but... - I would describe these characters as the equivalent of an instant ramen. Like yeah, you would eat it, and you do think it tastes good! But given the choice, you probably wouldn't choose instant ramen as your lunch over a sandwich or something. Basically I'm saying I wanna munch on Eraser.

I will note that I really liked Lighting and BH's interactions, same with Pen and Needle and Eraser + TD! No matter on my opinion on the character by themself, I think TPOT does a good job of creating fun character dynamics and interactions, even if I don't feel too attached to those two characters!

the silly tier - This is the only tier actually ordered, based on how much I like them :] Basically just the subset of contestants that can be called "the silly", "goofballs", and "ehjyesgsuuieh"... and also Pie! I like them all for the same reasons: I look at them and go "hehe! look at that silly little guy go! wow!", or in the case of Pillow: "hehe! she's so demented in the head! wow!". I like these buffoons... but I also wouldn't mind if they left.

Now you may wonder: "Hey, why is Bottle not here???" And that's because she's in the Top 5 tier. Silly. I'm hoping you wondered that because otherwise I look real stupid right now.

would('ve) loved to see more of - NEEDLE!!!! NOOO!!! COME BAKC TO ME!! I WAS JUST STARTING TO LIKE YOU! NEEDLE NOOOO

Sorry I just needed to let that out. Phew. Anyway BARF BAG NOOOOOOO-

You get the idea. Luckily, everyone else is still in the game... except Coiny, but he's in BFDIA, so I can live with that. And even more luckily, they're getting more screen time!

I really like having TB and GB separate, it really freshens up their characters a bit and I like how it's been written so far! I'm really excited for the arc between GB and Donut (even if I wish Barf Bag was still on the team...). Pin and Ice Cube are also getting their dues, we love to see it!

the goobers - Most of the characters here are really because either 1. I love the dynamic they have with other characters: Fanny works so well with Death P.A.C.T, it makes me go a little insane thinking about it, like her impact!!!

...or 2. because I like the character arc: Robot Flower and Basketball are so very very imporatnt and dear to my heart... Robot Flower getting that surprisingly well done fight scene to her FINALLY getting fixed and the fact that Basketball risked it all just for R.Flower to be safe like auhfeihefhf sorry

notice how two of my favs BOTH made deals with One? It's actually so messed up! I'll scream!! they better be safe or I'll like... be sad or something >:(

It honestly surprised me Clock ranked so high, but when I thought about, it made sense. I like Winner as much as I do because of Clock and how they both matured. I think the winnerclock arc was my favorite one so far tbh!

top 5!! - My ass putting Gaty in top five like her ass isn't being eliminated NEXT EPISODE I CANT DO THIS NO MORE

I think the main reason Gaty's so high for me has a lot to do with her dynamic with two. We love an unlicensed therapist, go girl!! and also she's just great. like just look at her.

Perfection.

I know Winner would hate me because if I saw them I would be acting like Clock EP1 going like "HI WINNER!! OMG WINNER HI!!!" They're just so cool!! I already loved their personality but I got even more endeared to them after the whole Clock debacle.

Clock taking his fear of being forgotten and projecting it on Winner which just ends up breaking Winner's boundaries and making them feel uncomfortable. Winner feeling like they're being idolized when all they wanted was a real friend like they had with Loser... like I could yap on and on but this post is long enough. Just. Them.

Although I don't remember the full context with Book, I really like her! I think she bounces off the rest of the cast really well and I love that she's getting more attention in recent episodes (especially with Pencil joining back). The dream episode is my favorite for a lot of reasons, and she's definitely a big one.

Crazy how two of my favorites both have a relationship which was fractured due to one of them overstepping a boundary. Dunno what that says about me!

Bottle and Price Tag are both here simply because I think they are silly and they always make me go ':]'. Bottle was so cute in TPOT 13 for NO reason what is wrong with her

And Price Tag's friendship with Book is so cute n aiohudhuawhwhf

I'm not exactly the best at character analysis (nor do I have the best memory... i had to rewatch a few episodes lol), but i REALLY wanna get better at it so I can put all these goobers under a microscope

[foxydivaxx]

Gossip Girl: Bad Romance Chapter 4

Sanji is gonna drop a huge bombshell here. Warnings: mentions of rape and sexual assault

Arise and shine Upper Eastsiders. Today is the D-Day. The court showdown between Judge Vinsmoke and the Pudding family vs S. Besides the obvious court drama that will unfold, everyone wants to catch a proper glimpse of S and Z. Like what are they gonna wear to court especially S? S serves cunt every single day on a good day. The only time he did not do that was during these past eventful months. Seems like things are about to change now that he and Z have kissed and made up.

All we have gotten so far are the various paparazzi photos that have made it online and in tabloids. S and Z have not updated their social media platforms yet, probably to protect their privacy, or at least part of it. Y’all know that this couple are the most dramatic people on the planet when they choose to be, especially S. 

I smell a civil war because E and SU’s faction are not pleased by all this. Like, why would S and Z steal the spotlight from them, right? Unfortunately, no one, like no one are as badass as the Royal Couple. Ah yes, that is what the media has started calling them and it suits them tbh. 

Loads of fans are waiting outside the courtroom. They have been out here for the past few weeks now, actively campaigning for S. You can thank S’s siblings for that as they have been speaking up on his behalf during those dark times. His poor mother who has been ill for the past couple weeks has decided to show up at court today. The woman be looking fly and amazing with her beautiful red dress. I now know where S gets the dramatics and sass from. It is from her. His siblings are here too and also LE too plus S’ adoptive father and uncle. They are all out for blood this time.

Wait….is that Z’s limo I see there? Looks like the Royal Couple have arrived. May the games begin!!

XOXO,

Gossip Girl

Sanji takes in a deep breath as the limo gets closer to the courthouse. Zoro takes his hand and gives him a reassuring look. Sanji smiles a bit. Good thing he was wearing his signature black shades and he was looking hot in his burgundy suit. He does not want anyone to see the fear in his eyes. His biological father had instilled enough fear into him and the hearts of the rest of the family. Part of what led him down that dark path was him trying to come to terms with what had happened to him.

He refused to several years to properly confront the old bastard. That shit ends together. Once they pull up at the court. “Ready?” Zoro asked. Sanji nods. “Lets do it.”

Once the door opens, Sanji immediately puts on his old confident mask. The fans start screaming once they see him. Zoro takes Sanji’s hand and helps him out of the limo. Sanji smiles and waves at the fans. 

As soon as Lelouch spots him, he runs towards him and hugs his former bandmate who grins and hugs him back. “Aww good to see you Lelouch.” Lelouch was wearing a black suit. “Anything for you man. I mean, you gave me a career so it is only fair to support you.” he says. Sanji would have teared up because all this love is overwhelming. 

“Hi bro.” Ichiji and the rest of the Vinsmoke siblings join them. Yonji pats his older twin on the back. “You will be fine. We;ve got your back.” Sora hugs her son. “Go get em Sanji.” Sanji grins. “I will mum.” Zeff grins and gives Sanji the thumbs up. 

The group are directed to the courtroom. The criminals are all in orange jumpsuits and give Snji hateful looks. Not just them. Sukuna, Eren and their cronies were there too with similar nasty looks on their faces. Normally, Sanji would tremble in fear. Not today bitches.

Sanji gives them a ghost of a devilish smirk as he walks over to the front with Zoro at his side. Oh look at them. Poor unfortunate souls. I think they are on the same level as me. Yeah right. Zoro notices and places an arm around Sanji’s waist and whispers, “Man the salt is real.”

Sanji chuckles. “They asked for it.” He then takes his seat and waits for the case to begin. Soon the proceedings begin. Sanji watches as his father tries to lie his way out of the situation. “It’s true. I can never harm my children.” He shoots the man a scathing death glare which made him to slightly cower in fear. How dare he lie? Either way, he will make sure he and the rest of them pay.

Soon it was his turn. “Can Mr Sanji Bernard take the witness stand?” Game time. He slowly rises up from his seat and walks over to the witness stand. He ignores the haters and walks over to the lawyer who was helping him handle this case. Sometimes it’s great to have a boyfriend that has as many connections as Zoro.

After taking the oath, he takes his seat in the stand. Compared to how he was prior to getting here, he was now a lot more composed and calm. Usually he would be nervous and fidgeting. 

“Now what is your relationship with Mr Judge Vinsmoke?” 

“He is my biological father.”

“Can you recount what happened that day that infamous altercation between you and him happened?”

Sanji proceeds to narrate without hesitation. “On that day, I was invited to an event hosted by VH1. I did not even know that the old man was there. I was in the VIP lounge relaxing. My boyfriend Zoro went off to go get some drinks for us. Next thing I knew, Judge came over to me and began to touch my inappropriately on forced himself on me and kissed me….”

Sanji paused and takes off his glasses, trying to contain his tears and emotions. Everyone else stared at Judge who immediately looks away. Once Sanji had finally composed himself, he continues. “This is not the first time this man would sexually assault me.” 

Once everyone hears this, there was a collective gasp in the room. Even Sukuna and Eren were stunned. They did not know about this. Only those closet to Sanji like Zoro and his family knew about this.

“You say this is not the first time he did this. Do you mind me asking when was the last time he did this?”

Sanji glares daggers at his dad and says, “When I was 11, this man pulled up on the streets in the neighbourhood I was living in at the time. I was still living in Brookylyn with mum and my siblings. We moved a couple blocks away after father shot her in the head when I was 3.” 

People were shocked by that bombshell. No wonder Sanji is the way he is. “I was on my way home from school after basketball practice. His bodyguards at the time grabbed me and carried me into his van. He pulled down my pants and he and those two bastards proceeds to rape me in there. I am not the only one. He also defiled all my siblings and he threatened to kill us all should we ever reveal the truth.” Sanji then breaks down in tears.

The world came to a standstill as everyone was horrified by this revelation. His siblings and mother were in tears as well. “M-Mum filed a lot of restarining orders and tried several legal methods to keep him at bay but this bastard keeps on hsowing up at our schools to cause a scene and disrupt our lives. That was led to us moving to Atlanta to escape him. Unfortunately, it seems we could not escape his influence.”

“OBJECTION MY LORD!!”

The judge stops the defendant attorney. “Objection overruled. Continue prosecutor.” The lawyer nods and continues.

“How so?”

“First and foremost, I was unaware that Charlotte Pudding, who became my girlfriend when I was 13, knew my dad and that her parents were close friends and associates of his until recently.”

Yet another shocking bombshell. No wonder this guy has survived. That man really wants to ruin his life.

“Now we are getting somewhere. Please explain Miss Pudding’s involvement.”

Sanji nods. “Charlotte and I were discussing one day and she said she wanted to lose her virginity to me. I was hesitant because of past experiences and mental health issues. Still what does she do? She manipulates me into meeting her at the strip joint I used to work at. I did not know it at the time but she spiked my drink with something that knocked me out. I did not realize that she had had sex with me, talkless of filming our sexual encounter.”

Again collective gasp because why? Charlotte looks down in guilt. “And that brings me to this question, how are the Pudding family involved with your record label contract?”

“They are majority shareholders of the label and were part of the board of directors. I was not aware of this fact. They were watching Popstars: the rivals, the show I was a part of. According to Charlotte because she told me all this, she, her mother and Judge concocted a plan. They would give Aogiri a contract. However, my contract was different from the others. Basically, they take 95% of my allocated earnings and I just take 5% including my own solo projects like collaborations and endorsement deals. By the time, I found this out, it was too late. Plus like 3 of the members voted me out of the group. One of us Lelouch walked out and chose not to renew his.”

Again there was collective outrage about Sanji’s plight. Immediately, Eren and Sukuna leave the premises.Unfortunately, they are greeted by a series of boos from the crowd outside. The fans at least knew about their part in the contract debacle prior to the courtcase.

“That will be all Your Honour.” Sanji walks back to his seat and sits down. “This case shall be adjourned till September 8.”

With that, everyone walks out. “What you did was so brave Sanji.” says Lelouch. Sanji nods. “I had to get shit off my chest. It was the least I could do.”

“Notice that Sukuna and Eren walked out? They know what they did was wrong.” says Niji. “As they should. Bloody cowards.” says Sora.

Wow, did not expect that powerful revelation from S. But then again, I have always suspected Judge for years especially since the man got indicted for a similar crime with someone else’s kid years ago but he managed to escape. 

Z did a great job on handling this for him. But the question remains, will these folks go to jail for their sins or are they going to bribe their way out of it? Let us wait till September 8.

Noticed I mentioned burgundy suit here? That is a reference to One Piece itself. Also Sanji being called Sanji Bernard instead of Sanji Vinsmoke is because his parents divorced years ago and Bernard is his mum Sora’s maiden name.