Wip Wednesday!
I was tagged by @daffi-990 @wikiangela thank you 🩷
Imma share a bit of nightmare fic because it's close to being done (I think, I may be wrong, who knows, not me) that's a random idea that happened quite literally at 3 am where Buck has a nightmare while sleeping on Eddie's couch because of a call with a gunshot victim, Eddie wakes him up and because I am who I am, they talk about the shooting. I am taking a second to think this idea through a bit more, because shit got dark here for a second and I'm still trying to determine where it would go from here, but have this.
But Buck didn't seem ready to talk. He just shifted, moving so he could drop his head to Eddie's shoulder, before nodding slightly and hiding his face on his neck.
That was also new, Buck allowing himself to seek comfort. So Eddie waits, lets his hand find Buck's hair, fingers lazily moving through it until he relaxes against him.
"I thought you were dead," Buck mumbles into his skin, still hiding, almost as if he's hoping that if he stays like this, it can't hurt him.
"It was just a bad dream," Eddie tries to reassure him, fingers still moving on his hair, but he shakes his head.
"No, not- not now, I mean, yes, in the dream too, but when you- I thought you were dead. You went down and you were looking at me, but then you weren't and I- I thought you were dead," Buck explains and Eddie breathes out a soft oh once he understands what he means.
No pressure tagging 🩷: @eddiebabygirldiaz @bucks118 @giddyupbuck @try-set-me-on-fire @disasterbuckdiaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @honestlydarkprincess @watchyourbuck @vampbuckley @housewifebuck
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I love dog metaphors and motifs, and I want a brainwashed Soap AU where, after a while, Soap genuinely sees himself as a dog.
When Makarov first gets his hands on Soap, Soap has his dignity, pride, and mind fully intact, and he fights. Soap fights hard, and he fights well, but months of harsh conditioning that stretch into years will break anybody.
After a while, Soap no longer believes that he’s a real human, let alone a person. He’s an animal, a creature, a dog that must obey, because what else is there to do?
He was a bad dog at first, growling and biting until he was muzzled and beaten into submission, but he eventually learned that it was easier to just obey his master. Makarov was his master. He was cruel and choked Soap with the leash he had wrapped around his throat, but he was a master nonetheless, and dogs obey their masters.
And then the 141 recovers Soap, years after they thought he was dead and gone. They held a funeral for him, and although they never quite stopped grieving, life must go on.
Ghost is the most affected when they get Soap back. He frantically fumbles at the straps keeping the muzzle attached to Soap’s face, yanks the muzzle off, and throws it to the side, cupping Soap’s cheeks and repeating Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. But Soap doesn’t remember Ghost, and he doesn’t know what he did to make this man start crying as he crushes Soap in his arms or how to make it stop. He grovels and tries to put the muzzle back on as a show of obedience and good will, but the man gets increasingly upset. Soap just doesn’t understand.
When Soap realizes Makarov is dead, he sees it as a transfer of ownership.
Days, weeks, months pass. Ghost reintroduces himself to Soap and keeps trying to talk to him like they’re equals, like Soap is a human too, but Soap doesn’t remember, and he doesn’t get it. He tries his hardest to please Ghost by obeying how his former master trained him, but he’s bewildered when Ghost doesn’t react favorably like he’d hoped. It simply doesn’t click in Soap’s head when Ghost repeatedly tells him that he’s still a person.
Soap thinks the world of Ghost, though, despite the man’s confusing orders. He refuses to muzzle or restrain Soap in any way, and he gives Soap things he’s never had before, like a soft place to sleep, food that isn’t bland, and physical contact that doesn’t hurt. Soap has to learn his new master’s preferences—but that’s okay, because Ghost is a good master. Ghost is kind and loves Soap, and all Soap wants to do is be good for him, no matter what.
Every dog needs a master, after all, and Ghost is all Soap could ever hope for.
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Fictober23 Prompt: 8 - "Give me that, before anything happens."
Fandom: DPxDC
Rating: G
Warnings: -
"Don't touch that." Constantine said without even looking up from the book he was reading through for research. Phantom had joined the Justice League dark only recently and was still in that sort of mentor - glorified babysitting - state. It was just his luck that he lost in the stick draw and had now to 'mentor' the who-knows-how-old-he-truly-is Ghost King.
He should have stuck this job to Zatanna. The 'kid' was curious as a cat and apparently wanted to touch every good damn artifact in the House of Mysteries that Constantine had ever gotten his hands on.
"Don't touch that either." The Brite muttered without looking up, he was so close in figuring out the actual meaning of the curse placed on a good damn church bell that causes everyone who hears it to fall asleep at midnight sharp and wake up at 8 AM later like nothing happened. Behind his back Phantom stuck his tongue out at the man before reaching out to poke the artifact that caught his eye anyway. However the House of Mysteries had other ideas as it reconstructed itself at the right moment and put the artifact further away from Phantom.
The Ghost King pouted, crossing his arms and floated over to where Constantine was pouring over a curse seal. Phantom hummed as he looked over the Brites shoulder grinning. "Oh I didn't know you could use ghost speech for curses!"
"Say what now mate?!" John's head snapped to the side to stare at Phantom who was now floating over his shoulder. "It's in ghost speech? What even is that?"
The Ghost King had the nerve to give him an unimpressed stare that really made the Brite need a smoke, but he had given Zatanna his good damn word not to smoke around the 'kid', so that was a no.
"Ghost speech. The language of the Infinite Realms also known as the Ghost Zone, After Life, Hell, Home of the Damned, and so on and so on." Constantines eye twitched as the Ghost boy shrugged. He let out a suffering sigh and pushed his copie of the curse seal over to Phantom.
"What does it say?" The other blinked for a moment before turning his eyes to the photo. A scratching static white noise filled the Brite's ears and he yelped in pain, covering his ears. The noise instantly stopped and Contantine glared at the Ghost King who sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. "Sorry, I will say it again in English."
Constantine only grumbled something inaudible before motioning for the other to continue.
"You idiots don't sleep enough. Go and get at least eight hours of sleep. If you don't sleep by midnight I will be the one to make you sleep."
"The hell?"
"That's what's written there."
"Don't tell me we have another good damn Sandman problem on our hands." John gripped with one hand at his hair, he really hoped that wasn't it because dear good he did not want to get Batman or one of the other Not Dark heros involved.
"Nah, he goes by Nocturne, he never liked that name some philosophers came up with. But this does go against the agreement I had with him."
Was this how Batman felt when his Robins went against his orders? Or how the mentors of the Yonge Justice feel when the teens sass back? Because Constantine was sticking this ancient kid of a Ghost King onto Zatanna the next change he got.
"You know how to lift that curse then?" Instead of going further into a rabbit hole, Constantine decided it was easier to just find out if the Ghost King can lift a good damn curse he had been working on solving for days now instead of finding out who the hell Nocturne was now.
"Of course I know." Phantom answered easily, floating on his back around the room like he was going with the flow of water. Glowing green eyes going along the shelves where various books and artifacts were thrown on, in no particular order.
"Great. Let's go and fix this then." The man muttered, getting up from his chair and grabbing his coat. "I need a bottle of whiskey after this and a good damn smoke…"
Phantom just followed behind the man ready for his second official job with the Justice League Dark. He grinned happily of finally getting some outside action only to come to a sudden halt as the Brite man whirled around glaring at the Ghost King only inches from his the other.
"Phantom?"
"Yes?" The 'kid' answered nervously.
"Give me that, before anything happens. How often did I tell you NOT to touch anything of the artifacts? Do you even know what that thing does!"
Reluctantly like a reprimanded child the Ghost King handed over a golden plate with a glowing green crystal embedded into it, Constantine remembered it being the leftover part of a demon they had banished. The man narrowed his eyes. "The other one too."
"Fine…" Phantom handed over a crystal zepter, John had picked up from an ancient tomb. "Didn't think you noticed me picking them up, since you didn't say anything before I even touched them."
"Mate, you are forgetting who currently owns this house."
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