peter and wendy turned out fine

Jet Black Heart - A Peter Pan x Reader Fanfiction Part 7

The response to the last part was absolutely insane! You guys are all so amazing and I’m happy that so many of you guys are so into this series because it is currently my favorite one that I am writing! Here is the next part, I hope you all enjoy it! (:

Also, some song that have been my inspiration for Y/N lately are Horns by Bryce Fox, and Swan by Willa. Both kinda give off this bad ass vibe that I have been digging as a muse for her.

Part one  Part two  Part three  Part four  Part five  Part six  Part eight Part nine

Originally posted by thequeenruelas

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I was looking for a breath of life A little touch of heavenly light

Apocalypse Au, Final Part. 

This is the last part, guys. THE END. I hope it’s good - it’s very long, and it was draining to write. I hope this lives up to expectations ? Anyway, enjoy, and be generous to me, that is all I ask. Anyway, this fic has been wonderful to write - it leaves me crying to myself from emotions. Everyone has been supportive and lovely, and I hope this ending pleases you. 

Sequel to 

 DarknessLanguageViolenceNsfw

I was looking for a breath of life A little touch of heavenly light  (x)

-          Peter, listen to me.

-          No. We’ve been over this, Wendy – no.

-          You have to let them go ! Both of them !

-          They’re leverage !

-          Leverage ? Leverage ? Peter, Bae is my friend !

-          I’m not hurting him, Peter snaps. I’m just keeping him where I want him.

-          You’re holding him prisoner !

-          What the hell do you want me to do, Wendy ? Give him back to his father so Gold reduces London to ashes without blinking ?

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So I saw a gif of Wendy holding a sword to Peter’s throat, created by the lovely dailymalfoy (I think), and got inspired. Takes place within the Howl at Hallowed Ground universe, around the time that Wendy decided to be a kickass Queen.

Merry Christmas, darlings J

Fire in those Veins

 

Wendy has always had a soft spot for existential epiphanies, particularly when concerning her place on Neverland. Perhaps it’s because she turns to her own mind for comfort so often, reaching for the stories she keeps locked in there; tales of handsome princes whose smiles are pure and kind, princesses who bear no bruises, fairies whose magic never runs out. She reverts into herself when the pain is too much to bear, switches off, glazes her eyes with tears and locks doors on the outside world.

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