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nebulaafterdark · 11 months

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Lavender Haze

Summary: Y/N and Haymitch take a pill in the Capitol. Set in the Moves & Countermoves universe but can be read as a one shot.

Warning: 18+ ONLY MDNI alcohol/drug use, p in v, praise kink.

“My feet are killing me.” Y/N rushes to the plush chair, in their guest suite.

They were ‘invited’ to a huge party, in the Capitol, all to celebrate him. That’s what they say anyway, truthfully it was just an excuse to bring their favorite lovers out of hiding. It’s been months since the wedding, people are starving for more.

“Here,” Haymitch pulls up a seat, holding out a hand.

“Here what?”

“Gimme your feet.”

“No, it’s your birthday. Shouldn’t be giving me a foot rub on your birthday.” Y/N argues.

“Just give me the damn things.” He pats his lap, as her stilettos go flying.

She brings both feet into his lap, allowing his skilled fingers to work over the throbbing arches. “Mmm.”

Haymitch arches a brow, “that’s the spot?”

“Yeah, don’t stop.” She turns her gaze to the table. There’s a folded note card, beside two lavender pills.

-For a good time.

Y/N scoffs, picking up the offering. “You wanna try it with me?” Not that they need any kind of ‘assistance’ in that department, but it might be fun.

Haymitch shrugs, “what the hell, cheers.”

“Cheers,” she pops the purple capsule into his mouth, before swallowing down her own, with a mouthful of champagne straight from the bottle.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to drink with it.” Not alcohol anyway.

“You’re drinking.”

“I’m an alcoholic.”

Y/N narrows her eyes at him, flopping down onto the bed in her little dress. “How long does it take to kick in?”

“You’re asking me like I’ve done this before.” Haymitch chuckles, coming in hot beside her, glass still in hand.

“Haven’t you?”

“No.”

Her cheeks heat up, realizing her mistake. “Oh.”

“Never had anyone to do it with.”

“I’m sure people wanted to.”

“Yeah, they were all lining up.”

“You’re like hot, hot, Haymitch.”

“That’s Panem’s most powerful aphrodisiac talking.”

“No, that’s me talking.” Y/N counters. “Because this stupid pill is still not doing anything.”

He looks over at her, “there was nobody I trusted enough.”

“But you trust me?”

“I do.”

She gasps, startled by that electric feeling. “Did you feel that?”

“What?” His brow furrows.

“My nipples like… started tingling.”

“Let me see.” He insists, licking his lips as her tits spring free from her dress. “Fuck, angel.”

“Please be gentle.” Y/N gnaws the inside of her cheek, as she moves to straddle his hips.

In a frenzy, Haymitch kisses her once on the mouth and then down the valley between her breasts. Carefully taking her right peak into his mouth, her hips buck against him. “You’re so sensitive.” He blows, over the puckered skin.

“Haymitch,” it is a plea and a warning.

“I’ve got you.” I’ve always got you, I love you.

She keens, gliding her wetness over his erection through their clothes.

“So eager.” His lips trace her jawline.

She moves off him, quickly tossing away her dress and undergarments. His cock is hard, freed from the confines of his clothing and aching for her return. Y/N remounts him with nervous desire.

“I need to be inside you.” I want to live inside you.

She obeys, taking him deep, all the way to the hilt. “I don’t know how-” she’s never been in this position.

“I’ll help you.” He encourages, “find what feels good.”

Y/N lifts her hips, fucking herself experimentally on his cock. Angling herself until he brushes over that spot within her. So fucking deep, it takes her breath away. “Is this ok?”

“It’s perfect,” Haymitch thrusts up to meet her, “you’re perfect.”

She squeals as he slides against her g-spot, a second time.

“So pretty,” Haymitch watches Y/N lose herself in pleasure. Mouth hanging open, breasts bouncing in time with her movements.

Y/N leans forward, sealing her lips over his and fucking him in earnest. Like she means it and can’t get enough.

The noises she makes drive him insane, nipping at her plush lips as they part.

“It feels so good.” You feel so good.

“Good girl, make yourself cum.”

“Haymitch,” her cheeks heat up. Still not caring enough to be embarrassed.

“Look at me.” He cups her face, thumbing over the delicate skin.

She forces her eyes open.

Haymitch holds her gaze, the lids of her eyes heavy with lust. Her brow furrowed, she is close. He can feel it.

“Fuck,” she squeezes her eyes shut.

“Look at me.” He whispers again, tracing his knuckles over her jawline.

Y/N blinks at him. His eyes set on hers, stay with me. So intense, so intimate that she wants to close her eyes. But she stays with him, even as she falls apart.

Haymitch groans at the feel of her clenching around him. The heat of her drives him over the edge, milking him for all he’s worth.

She keeps moving, but slower now. Wanting more, needing it, ignoring the bite of overstimulation.

“Y/N,” Haymitch warns, exhaling through his nose. God, he’s still so hard it hurts.

“Please,” she breathes, “please.”

His fingertips dig into the skin of her hips, holding her steady.

She sobs in protest.

“Shh. I just need a minute, angel.” Haymitch hushes her. Repositioning himself to sit with his back against the headboard. Practiced fingers find her clit, just above the place they are joined. He circles it with his fingers and she jumps.

“Oh!” Y/N presses her lips to his forehead, with a startling amount of affection.

It makes him feel things he shouldn’t. He’s moving faster now, chasing her high.

“Haymitch.”

“I’m right here.” He coaxes her tongue out to play.

“Can I move, please?”

Do whatever you want to me. “Yeah. Go ahead.” I’m yours.

#haymitch abernathy #haymitch abernathy smut #haymitch x reader #thg haymitch #haymitch x y/n #moves & countermoves #hamitch fanfic #haymitch abernathy x reader #haymitch abernathy x you #haymitch abernathy x y/n #haymitch smut

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rosexhart · 2 months

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Waiting For Sunset

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Gekko x Reader

• Accidentally running into the agents of Omega Earth, you are taken hostage. Hostages aren’t common for them, but you seem to be the exception. So much for your first time in L.A.

Word Count: 1.4K

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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The day was already beginning to warm up. I was visiting L.A. to see if I would like the colleges here rather than back home. A lot of them having very interesting programs so it was time to see them in person. I took the trip alone despite the protest of those around me. The whole First Light event made everyone anxious still. It didn’t bother me though.

I walked around three colleges, all of them huge, and all of them way more than I could ever dream of. It was going to be tough picking between them. I sat down outside of a boba shop and sighed out. It was then that I noticed it. One of the places of the radianite explosions occurred. Parts of the building affected, free floating in the air, which meant the crater was also nearby. I decided it might be worth trying to go see it. Even if I got caught I could feign ignorance. I stood up and started towards the building. The sun was beginning to set in the distance, not quite yet providing that golden hue. It was a bit of a maze getting closer to the building. Only able to use it as a landmark to guide myself. Finally I spotted a taco stand, long abandoned, and smiled to myself. What I wasn’t expecting were five people standing in a small grass circle right near by it. I ducked down, hoping to not be noticed. They whispered among themselves. They seemed strange, like they weren’t meant to be here. I stayed hidden as one of them disappeared in a haze of purple smoke right before my eyes. I glanced around looking for them only to have a hand grasp my arm tightly.

A slight yelp escaped me, as they pulled me to a stand and threw me almost effortlessly forward towards the other four.

“A spy,” The voice was low, and toned in a way that unsettled me. Chills racing down my spine.

“I doubt she was sent by them. She doesn’t even seem Radiant.” One said kneeling in front of me. She had long dark black hair that was tied up into a pony tail.

“We can’t risk it regardless.” Another woman with white hair tied up in a short pony tail.

“Agreed. Tie her up, we can deal with her after we detonate the spike.” The long haired woman stated as she stood to her full height.

“Hey, wait! Look I’ll leave I was just trying to see the area.” I argued but the five didn’t seem to care. A woman with red hair pushed you down and held you while a lady with slicked back black and pink hair, zip tied my hands. They sat me back up and took a triangular looking object away with them as they went down a path on the left. Leaving me sitting in the grassy circle they previously occupied.

Gunshots rang out from the direction they went. Some were in more rapid bursts, others slow, calculated and loud. After a while, everything became quiet again. Then the same man who had disappeared into purple smoke came running towards me. A large gun in one hand, the triangular device hanging from their hip. They came over to me. Picking me up roughly. Their shoulder oozing a bit of blood as they did.

“Change of plans. You’re collateral now.” Their voice said and I stumbled forwards towards the right instead of the left like they did before. He pushed at me, making me go forwards as I rounded past a phone box, and up a slight gravel incline.

“Listen, there’s got to be a better way of doing-“ I started but was quickly cut off.

“Quiet.” They said as we rounded a corner by a box. A gun shot rang and the person pulled me flush against their body like a human shield.

“Hold fire!” Someone called out from the crates far in front of us.

“You shoot at me again and I’ll make sure you shoot them instead.” The voice garbled out. There was silence as we continued onto a hard metal surface. The figure shoved me behind a technician box and then took the triangular device and started fiddling with it. I couldn’t just sit here. I swiftly kicked at the device and watched as it spun out their hands. I smirked at my achievement as I heard footsteps behind me. The person disappeared in a haze of purple smoke and I backed up quickly, trying to prop myself up using the box. Gunshots rang out and I held my place behind the box for a minute as the voice I had come to know cried out. Then a rush of footsteps.

“Are you alright?” The same woman with long black hair came from around the box. I backed up.

“Get away from me,” I said moving backwards best I could as a small creature came running at me. It was yellow and tilted its head at me.

“No, no, we are the good guys.” I looked up to see a man with neon green hair, holding a small blue creature with some type of shell on its back. The small yellow creature garbled out something.

“Hey, dude come on. It’s not their fault.” The man said as he picked up the creature.

“Who are you people?” I questioned and the black haired woman took a breath and came closer. Cutting the ties at my wrist with a knife.

“We are Valorant.” She said helping me to stand.

“And you were not suppose to be here.” The same voice from before said coming around the box next to the neon haired man.

“What the hell,” I growled out

“Hey, it’s a lot to take in. Sage, we should take her back.” The neon green haired man said.

“I agree. She has seen too much.” The woman with the black hair said. I suppose she was Sage.

“I’m not going anywhere,” I started but I didn’t get much of a say as a neon blue haired girl rounded a corner.

“Can we go? I’m tired of just sitting around here.” She stretched out her shoulder.

“We have a situation.” Sage said

“Relájate chica,” The green haired male said to her.

“You relax after having to run through fire to get their Skye out.” The blue haired girl said

“Enough,” The purple smoke person said.

“We are probably confusing her more.” Sage said, helping me to stand.

“Do you want me to handle her?” The smoke person said as he came closer.

“Probably for the best. We will meet you back on the helicopter.” Sage said and the person grabbed my arm roughly just like the other.

“Hey hands off!” I cried out before I felt the world disappear around me. There was a haze of purple smoke, and I felt like I was weightless. As if I was in my dream like I was falling from some great height. When it came to an end we were on a helicopter bigger than I had ever seen. The person sat me down and strapped me down in a chair.

“Get off! I’m not going anywhere this is kidnapping!” I yelled and tried to keep them from continuing. They held my wrist tightly and came close to my face. Three slits of light stared back at me.

“It’s not kidnapping if you were breaking the laws.” They said and my blood cooled. I was strapped in and I suppose they were on some type of locking mechanism because I couldn’t release them. Soon enough the others came aboard. Sage, the neon haired male, the blue haired female, then someone I hadn’t seen yet. Another male with jet black hair, and a blue jacket.

“Yo, Yoru, you got lucky. I was one away from beating you.” The green haired male mentioned to the guy in the blue jacket.

“You can never beat me Gekko. I always am on top.” The male- Yoru, said.

“God you guys are insufferable.” The blue haired female said.

“Where are you taking me?” I questioned and they all looked at me.

“Who the hell is this?” Yoru questioned looking around at all the different people.

“Uh.. I don’t think we ever actually got a name.” The neon haired male said.

“(Y/N),” I stated pulling at the belts again.

“(Y/N), welcome to Valorant.” Sage said before the helicopter took off. They placed a headset on my head but silenced it. They all took turns talking but I couldn’t hear much of anything beyond the drone of the helicopter. I sat back. Realizing there was nothing I could do. So much for those colleges.

#gekko #gekko valorant #gekko x reader #gekko x you #valorant #fanfic #valorant fanfiction #fanfiction #I haven’t decided if I want to be Gekko or date him #I love Gekko #whose your agent?#might make this a chose your own

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tenderlywicked · 9 months

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The idea of a Beyond Evil prison fic has been brewing in my mind for ages, but I have no idea where it’s heading because I only have knowledge of Korean prisons from watching Innocent Defendant :)

Pretty Flowers Wilt Too Soon

The first thought that comes to Dong Sik’s mind is utterly ridiculous: blue doesn’t suit Han Joo Won. It’s hard to spoil a face like his, but that’s certainly not his color. Police uniform hadn’t become him. Prison clothes doesn’t either. Surprisingly, a bruise on his cheekbone fits him more, adds a certain roughness to his features.

Dong Sik squints in the bright sunlight, but the apparition doesn’t disappear. It’s definitely Han Joo Won loitering across the prison yard.

“This one is trouble,” a voice behind him says.

“How so?” another one joins in eagerly—prison gossips spread like wildfire.

“Ended up in solitary confinement on his first day here. His cell mates wanted to kind of haze him, especially because he’s an ex-cop. You know how it is with ex-cops—”

There’s an awkward pause—and even without turning back, Dong Sik knows they are looking at him now, a former policeman as well.

Actually, his case is somewhat atypical. One could say he’s a celebrity who has brought down a Commissioner General, and also a survivor of police injustice, so his inmates have been more curious than hostile. Or maybe it’s his irresistible personality, who knows? Anyway, he hasn’t been subjected to any bullying.

Han Joo Won, though … it’s another matter entirely. The son of said Commissioner General, a Police University top graduate, an aloof and arrogant brat—all of this paints a huge target on him.

“So why was he punished instead of them?” the gossiping goes on.

“Because they are in the infirmary. All of them.”

There’s another pause, filled with awe this time. Maybe Han Joo Won isn’t entirely helpless, maybe he’ll even make a quick reputation for himself, a bright young thing skilled in martial arts. But what’s going to happen when his assailants are out? Does he think they will leave him be?

“Any idea why he got locked here?”

“Forging evidence, I think. He put something incriminating into his chief's safe, that kind of stuff. But it’s not like he got caught. They say he confessed of his own free will for some reason.”

“Nah, why would anyone in their right mind do that?”

In their right mind, yes, Dong Sik says to himself. Did the haughty prince realize what might await him in prison?

That’s when Joo Won finally sees him across the yard too, sitting on a bench and enjoying a sunny day. But he just stares and stares and makes no attempt at approaching, so Dong Sik is the one who has to get up with a sigh and stroll to where he’s standing.

At a closer distance, it turns out Joo Won also has a split brow, stitched more or less neatly, and a few more purple marks on his neck, like someone has tried to strangle him.

“Lee Dong Sik-ssi,” he says with a small courteous bow, like they are at a social gathering and not in a dusty prison yard.

Dong Sik very strongly feels like putting a bruise on his other cheekbone, or maybe grabbing him by the collar and shaking him really hard, but he knows none of this will help. Oh you stupid pretty flower, what have you gotten yourself into?

#beyond evil #beyond evil fanfiction #kdrama #han joowon #lee dongsik #jwds

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streaminn · 11 months

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I'm so sorry stream, I KNOW you said this AU is fluff dedicated but I can't just STOP THINKING about Wednesday and Baby Belle leaving Enid (suuuuper reluctantly)

You ended your drabble with "breaks" in italics and it just obliterated me because, what happens then ?

Is she catatonic ? Does she lose it ? Rage ? Tears ? Desperation ? And the way she (doesn't) cope with the fact that the two most important people in her life went away without a word ?

But there's also Wednesday, with a wailing Baby Belle, not crying but misty eyed saying again and again how it is for Enid's good, and who is she kidding, it was going too well. Something was bound to break.

But how do they meet again ? (They have to, it cannot end like that) Is Enid going to forgive her ? How will they mend what broke.

Stream it's not FAIR WHAT YOU DO TO MY BRAIN

Since I'm despairing over my shadowban, I'm opening my Spotify sad Playlist and turning it on so I get into the mood and answer this

Let's get it

Also yall, don't despair over enjoying my angst. Makes me really proud I could elicit a response like that. Not unless yall force the angst down my throat but that's bc I'm kinda a Lil bit of a hypocrite and bc this my blog and my interests so..

Anyways back to Enid, I meant it when she breaks.

She's a college student, she doesn't have alot of time to spend with others. Her family relationship is strained, her relationships with friends is strained bc she had to deal with a baby and potentially fighting for her life constantly so the one grounding thing in her life was baby belle.

And that's gone.

So like, Enid is a Lil hysterical.

At first she was 'shit, shit man did someone kidnap them?'

She barges into yoko's room, a huge mess. Her breath is heavy, she's sweating and her body is shivering like it wants to crumble into the floor and break apart but her family could be kidnapped and she needs to be strong right now.

It isn't until Yoko grabs Enid by the arms and mentions that Wednesday is demon royalty. There is no way she could be kidnapped without a fight. She's strong as hell, Enid! Yoko reminds and she looks worried. Take me to your room.

And Enid does, her body feels too real as she stumbles down halls and corners. It's like she's playing a first person game in her own mind. It took a bit before Enid can even open the door because her hand was shaking so in a fit of frustration at not even being able to do such a simple action- Enid kicks down the door.

A part of her hoped that she was dreaming as the two barges in. That the emptiness of her room was a mean prank. Wednesday was a little socially inept like that, didn't really understood humor like she did after all. Enid wanted that to be true but life doesn't love her and the room is as dead as it always been since she woke up.

She turns to yoko and she looks halfway like her whole reality is shattering. Her shoulders were tight and her chest was heaving as she spoke. "please- yoko, you have to know something-" it spills from her lips repeatedly as her hand tightened on the doorframe. The steel creaks and theres nails digging into it like a pencil to paper.

Yoko trusts her friend, she really does but she shrinks a little as hazed blue eyes become clouded with bits of purple.

"Enid.." she starts, careful as if trying to talk down someone about to do something they could regret. "your room is too clean-"

"I know that!" Enid shouts and the metal she holds breaks crumbles into smth thin, snapping in half as she pushes herself closer to the vampire. "I know that Yoko, tell me something that isn't the obvious!"

Yoko continues like Enid didn't just destroy a bar meant to be outcast proof. "-and all of baby belle's things are gone." a breath was taken and her next words are treaded carefully, as if she was about to step into land with mines. "I don't think this is just a kidnapping."

The silence was deafening and immedietely, Enid's posture dropped into nothing. She just stood there and Yoko watched with morbid fascination as once sky blue eyes shifted purple and her iris shrinks into tiny dots.

"I'm going to Weems," Enid grits out. There is no familiarity in her tone but simple cold fact. The principle was a normal shapeshifter but to the religious community, she was known for her contact with the Queen of hell, known for contacting Envy.

For contacting Morticia.

When the two friends reach her door, Weems was sitting there. She looked like she expected it, her hands crossed in her table as she takes in the ruffled sight of a nearly feral werewolf and the growing terrified vampire.

"it wasn't a mistake, Enid," Weems goes and theres a familiarity in her tone. Like she too, understands and that irritates Enid more than ever. Who is she, to try and relate? "Wednesday transferred out of Nevermore University last Friday."

Enid didn't take too kindly too that, didn't quite like the tone it was said and slams her hands onto the wood.

"well take her back then," she growls. If only it was ever that simple.

Weems stares back. "she's gone, Enid."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Weems interrupts, raising a hand. "us mortals can never be with demons, you need to accept-"

She couldn't even finish her sentence before her whole table was thrown out the windows behind her.

The crash is silencing as it breaks through stained glass. The tiny art shattering into nothing and there is now a new exit to Weems' room.

The chill of the open air is sobering and Weems understood the severity of the situation immedietely. Yoko stands there, having stepped back the moment Enid spoke and her mouth is agape. Stained glass is extremely sturdy, being glass that needed to be layered to make a piece and to see it break so easily-

Its scary and her eyes stare at the back of her best friend.

"Its going to take time," Weems starts again.

Enid tilts her head. "I have all the time in the world."

"I will need some materials if you want to visit the underworld."

"Say it and it's yours."

Its said like a fact and it makes Yoko's fingers twitch. Shit, Enid is serious.

Weems next words is a little hesitant as her eyes shift. "Enid, what if this wasn't a mistake?"

Theres a pause and something fills the air immedietely. It makes Yoko's breath hitch as if something sunk their hands into her lungs and grasped it tight.

Enid's words are slow, her voice a gutteral growl. "I'll burn the world when we reach that."

No one mentioned how the words didn't go that way

#demon baby au #Writing #Enid sinclair #Angst #In a way #The lost tiger

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muzzleroars · 7 months

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I imagine that V2 shuts down before Michael finally dies himself.

Here's kind of what I'm imagining:

Michael and V2 are sitting together in the middle of a lush forest. sunlight falling through the leaves gently.

V2 is resting his head on Michael's shoulder and then Michael notice that V2 starts leaning on him a bit more then usually. So Micheal nudges V2 and V2 doesn't respond. Michael connects two and two and realizes what has happened. So Micheal sighs and leans bit more towards V2 before closing his own eyes for one last time.

Raphael is the one to find them peacefully sitting in the sunlight, Michaels flowers haveing encompassed them both with the most brilliant flowers Micheal has ever had. Flowers so beautiful they rival that of Edens. But instead of immediately breaking down at this realization Raph just accepts the situation, sitting down himself so he can have a moment to process this himself before he goes to tell Gabriel Uriel and v1. Michael is no longer suffering. And Michael has become the beautiful garden he's always wanted to be.

THE WAY IM BREAKING DOWN UUUWWAHSGGHHH....to think of them getting this far, both of them likely barely able to function at that point. they move slowly when they can and spend so much of their time still in nature, in a world so many call collapsed but filled with plenty for them, a private space that seems to span infinitely. they speak so quietly now, long stretches between them where they both forget who they are, forget what they are to each other and what their lives have been, locked in silence as their minds fail. everything is deteriorating, the static is growing louder and louder, and a haze is fuzzing all their memories, yet meaning ebbs back in every now and then. they know they will go soon, go to wherever a computer and an angel can go when they die. they are threadbare in body and mind, only the love remaining as v2 finally flickers out beside michael. and he remembers, for just a moment, his days as a psychopomp. maybe if he goes right now too, if god or nature or his own body sees fit, he can meet v2 before it's too far gone from him. wait, just a moment for him. and his soul, what's left of a light that's been dying for years, burns out at that final, lucid thought. he's happy he could have it.

and i HUGELY hugely agree with raphael's reaction here - while raphael is by far the most sensitive of the bunch, the grief of michael has run its course, he knew this day would come and they had all found their peace in it. i think raphael would see the glorious flowers blooming from them and know they are somewhere, no longer suffering in their bodies but beyond to a place he doesn't know. maybe they're just in those flowers (there's so many reds and purples), in the forest around it, but they are somewhere, at least to him. he remembers speaking with michael so often in his heavenly garden, and how he once expressed his body feels as though it should be in the ground feeding these plants, like every part of him knows it is dead and it longs to go home. and so he is happy, even if he will cry eventually, right now he is happy. michael is home, and v2 is with him wherever that is. he won't disturb this place either, no caring for it or trying to preserve it - michael spoke often on how he was a part of something so much bigger than himself now, and raphael respects his place in nature. this is the end they both came to, on their own with no one else to guide them, and to try to change anything about it now would be to intrude on their final moments.

#but then all of them visiting their grave together uwaahhhh #i think gabriel would grieve most openly (angels of treachery! so sad all the time!)#uriel would want to take some clippings i think. a couple flowers they can grow #and raphael approves since he believes mike would want that too #while v1 just stares and stares and stares without saying anything #it FEELS something...but it just doesn't know what #cake answers #michael #v2 #raphael #character death cw

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siremasterlawrence · 1 year

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Superman: New World Order

Clark Kent is a bit nervous agreeing to take part in the superhero exchange program the government has put in place to help train new hero’s.

Clark descends his apartment then walks out on to the staircase with a small purpose of getting through the day without any sort of incident.

He exits the door walking a few feet to the alleyway racing down spreading open his shirt revealing his true identity he flew off in to the sky.

He lands on to the army base meeting and greeting the young man with bright smile showcasing his white teeth and hand pull out.

His grip tight on my hand guiding me to the side of the army base main building he is sighing a bit and I can smell Superman’s breath.

It’s a cool, calm and refreshing smell to it

tickle my senses in my nostril I feel so high on it and I want to jump on him ripping his clothes off.

He offers me lift taking my hand as we are shooting off in to the sky he wants to see my powers in action during a bank robbery as the alarm goes off.

I freeze upon landing we enter the building to find a crazy purple like haze creature at it and it quickly notices me Superman leaps in with one punch.

The creature bounces on the wall in one out ward direction it locks on to me flowing right through me sending my back flying in to the wall.

Superman horrified at what he saw races to my side apologetic as ever he is kneeling by me and slowly takes my body up in his as we lift off.

“Oh! I am so sorry sir! I will take you to the hospital.”

“There will be some turbulence but I think we will be ok.”

“Hurry up please”

“Yes again! I am sorry”

“Let’s go”

“Up, up and away”

“Wait! Something is wrong?..”

“My powers they are draining”

“I will try to land safely…but I”

“Please do”

We come crashing down in to the watery icy cold blue ocean hitting the bottom of the sea floor rumbling down the area my body is throne.

I hit the floor hard Clark’s body slides to the ground shaking our control he falls further in completely unconscious dropping in to an endless pit.

I wake up with blurry eyes regaining all of my functions, I struggle to get back to my feet and start to scream in pain.

Something inside of me rumbles with dating anticipation rippling at skin and kicking my bones sending me back on my knees asI cry.

My body blows up in a bright golden glow on the midst of the ocean we body brims with bright light shining through me the entity escapes.

It turns to a glue like substance encasing me in a sticky like ball getting tighter and tighter over me.

The Man Of Steel comes to life with a deep heavy breath, bubbles blow out he swims upward and does his best reach me.

The surface is miles above me but I can still huge hand grab on to the edge of the cliff he yanks himself up and crawls over to me in worry.

Clark’s eyes roll back in to his socket cause him to faint as he falls on top of me and in to the magical bubble.

Clark’s body meshes in to mine combining in to one being, I wake up hours later on a strange beach somewhere in a undisclosed

area.

“What the fuck is going on?” I yell rising to my feet.

“Why is that Superman’s reflection?”

“This is not my body or face”

“Oh My God!”

“What is happening?”

“Excuse me! Lawrence”

“Can you hear me?”

“Superman”

“Why are you in my head? Why am I in your body?”

“What did you do to me Lawrence?”

Mwahahahahahahahahahahahahaha”

“Oh! I’ve wanted you for so long Clark”

“You have no idea, this is better then ever”

“I covet your body”

“Take ownership”

“Control you”

“This is my body now”

“I could not wait”

“I will be moving in to your apartment full time.”

“Rebuilding the Fortress Of Solitude”

The end

#evil superman #Superman #clark kent #tyler hoechlin

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yellowgreendinno · 5 months

Text

Clover High

The young boy stared at the wide doors of the huge building that was the most prestigious high school in the country. With it being in a reformed ancient Royal Castle, it had tall, wooden doors, carefully taken care of gardens and an amazingly magical feeling to it. The high school founder's statue stood tall and proud in the front yard, right in the middle of a fountain surrounded by beautifully trimmed bushes and trees in front of the institution's giant doors.

Asta Hage had tried his best to enter the expensive, prestigious, institution that was Clover High. Luckily for him, the way to be accepted into the school was by an interview. An interview where the only valued trait was an eccentric personality. Asta's grey blonde hair swayed in the wind; his green eyes stared at the Castle in awe, ready to enter it, and like that, enter this new part of his life.

The teen had read a lot about the place after he received his acceptance letter, and had found out the most curious things.

The Clover High Castle (also known as the LSET or Lumiere's School for Exepcional Teens) was divided into nine different Wings that the students were sorted according to notes taken by the headmaster in the interview.

The most prestigious one, the Golden Dawn was located in the Castle's newly founded central dome, the Dome of Revenge, although not the highest spot in all the castle. That place was reserved for the Silver Eagles, in one of the West Wings was located the Silva Tower, founded by Orel Silva.

In the Southwestern Wing of the castle were the two polar opposites: the Lion's Den, the Crimson Lion Kings' territory, a Wing that mostly constituted men and was founded by Shīzi Vermillion; and the Blue Roses right under them in the Rose Hortus, a newly created House formed only by young women, founded by Charlotte Roselei.

It was an understatement to say that the Lion Kings were royally pissed with the Roses; their wing was also part of their territory before.

The Azure Deer's Wodi Forest, previously known as the Grey Deer, founded by Ada Borealis, was located in the Southern Wing. The current Headmaster, Julius Novachrono, was their previous Wing Chief.

The Purple Orcas also had an importantly big Wing of the castle; the Northern Wing, also known as the Cave of the Killer Whale. Founded by Koholā Wai, they apparently were a huge group of strategic students.

The smallest Wing apparently was the Southeastern one, the one the Green Mantis' called home. Or the Floresta de Flacas. Asta had read that their Wing Chief and founder, Jack the Ripper, was obsessed with knives and cuts, hence his nickname, and the Wing's name.

Aígli Siatas was the late founder of the Coral Peacock's Eastern Wing, also known as the Ypnodomátio. They were referred to as "the Glam Witches", as their Chief was constantly in her own world, repeating the word "Glamour" in a disturbing tone.

Finally, the Black Bulls. They were the ones that attracted Asta's attention the most. They were located in the most Western Wing of the glamorous Castle, what had probably been an old, but big, stable. The Founder and Wing Chief, Yami Sukehiro, was a mysterious man who arose many questions from many, and had called his Wing the "Osuushi no kakurega".

Asta made out which Wing was which thanks to the colours the walls were painted in and the flags hanging out from some windows. As more people started to arrive, the boy snapped out of his haze, and stepped foot for the first time into the place that would determine who he would be in this life.

#black clover #nozel silva #fuegoleon vermillion #yami sukehiro #charlotte roselei #gueldre poizot #black clover kaiser #rill boismortier #asta black clover #julius novachrono #black clover jack the ripper #dorothy unsworth #william vangance #mereoleona vermillion #black clover highschool AU

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liminal-storage · 7 months

Text

#17: Sect of...Something

Prompt: Free Write

Characters: Kuni, a bunch of nameless cult-y folks in the woods

Content Warnings: Minor mentions of alcohol and drug use, as well as minor mentions of sexual content.

—-----------

It was meant to be a short jaunt, a peek at something in the woods, maybe something to put in an article. She’d neglected to publish a new issue of Occult Fan for a while now, so it was certainly overdue. There’d been rumors of a group gathering in the shadows, under a canopy of intertwined branches, and suspected cultist activity. If it proved to be true, it meant new material. And maybe it meant a distraction from the thoughts perpetually circling in her head like hungry vultures.

There was the hurt, of course, a strange sort of grief she couldn’t put into words. Some days she felt just fine, and thoughts of that pain’s source made her laugh or scoff rather than curl inward in defense. Other days, it felt like a picked-over wound, raw and painful. It would take time to reconcile this tender, weeping grief. She was used to grieving. It just felt strange to lament the living. Cruel to have so many words to say to someone who’d never hear them.

The other thoughts were far kinder, temptation to tease her at odd hours. Thoughts of vibrant, purple, mismatched eyes and a disarmingly charming smile. Thoughts of drunken boldness and overly floral teas. Thoughts of fathomless darkness, and the contrasting picture of two figures side by side. Temptation felt familiar too, but it’d been a long time since she’d actually acted on it, or at least taken tentative steps closer to doing just that. With her personal streak of bad luck, it’d be all too easy to count herself out of any equation.

So she simply wouldn’t count anything at all, and let herself go with the flow. Life just seemed easier that way. There’d always be looming threats. Better to simply take each day for what it was.

Either way, with either train of thought, she’d been distracted enough to neglect some of her hobbies. It was time to change that, and so her steps led her to where the rumors had come from; the strange, intertwined canopy in the East Shroud.

She waited three nights, quietly observing the people coming and going. There were at least twenty different figures shuffling about in the dark, but oddly none of what they were doing seemed overly sinister. It seemed they were setting something up, dragging crates and barrels and huge burlap sacks to settle around the outside of a large circle marked by small glowing lanterns. Men barked out directions to others nearby in order to assemble small tents to be stuffed full of plush-looking pillows and soft blankets. On the third night they lit a bonfire, set up meats for roasting, and generally just sort of seemed to be having a get-together.

Then, some hours into the night after the meats had been cut into, all twenty of them broke out the alcohol. That was what had been in the barrels and crates. Bottles and bottles of it, all plastered with a variety of shipping labels and Kuni honestly suspected that it must’ve been stolen.

And the barrels? The barrels weren’t barrels at all, but small kegs to be tapped, and as the night stretched on she witnessed at least a few of the gathered crowd lying down right under those kegs to douse themselves and drink their fill of the flowing amber liquid.

There came music, and dancing, and at some point someone started to pass around pipes with a sweet-scented smoke. Sure didn’t seem cult-y to her. Just a party that she was…honestly sort of tempted to join. Even when the group started up a game that involved a dark cloth shroud and minor suffocation and honestly it seemed more like a hazing ritual than a game... Regardless, the participants didn’t seem bothered.

Something held her right where she was, though. She would move no closer to the group, especially when one man stood up and shouted for the gathering’s attention, held a heavy chalice high above his head.

“My brethren!” he shouted, as the party slowly fell to a hush. “Tonight, we celebrate transience! Tonight, we pay tribute to the passing dawn and the deep colors of dusk!“

Oh, was this a fae worship thing? Talia was sure to be well fed.

“We dance beneath the moon’s pale cold luster!”

Idris too, huh? Autumn, darkness, trees, moonlight...Made sense to her.

“We celebrate, throughout this long night and until the sunlight trails down through the woven canopy!”

Alright, alright, so she’d stumbled upon worshippers of the Night. That wasn’t that strange.

“We give our bodies in tribute to the space between moments! We give our breath, so that we might know what it is to kiss death and taste life all at once! We turn our gaze inward whilst looking outward, so that we too may see what our keepers see! Walk the threshold! We devote ourselves to its sons and daughters!”

Wait...what?

The group echoed the man’s sentiments and then cheered as he drank deep from the chalice. He passed the chalice on to the nearest person and began to undress, and the others followed suit. Kuni watched on, dumbfounded, as the group of bodies rose like a wave before descending again. There came a chant of a name, her name, or rather the name her creators had intended for her. The sound of her name, those four syllables, rose and fell like the wave of bodies before softly falling away to the sounds of their pleasure.

Kuni stood at last, shocked beyond belief. What the fuck had she just witnessed?

No way could she write about this.

#ffxivwrite2023 #ffxivwrite #ritz writes #kinda phoning this one in as i ran out of time

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ashintheairlikesnow · 2 years

Text

Homesick

CW; Some dehumanizing language (not much, and not purposeful), nonhuman whumpee, lab whump aftermath, blood, medical whump, mer whump, needle references, clinical depression

Signs of the Sea Masterlist

BAHRAM’S NOTES

Written on paper with pen, kept folded in a copy of Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë

January 15th, 20XX

1:42 am

Mer in Residence: 93 Days

He’s homesick. I mean, of course he is. I’d be homesick too if they’d taken me away from my parents when I was a kid and dumped me in an enclosure that looks like the uncanny valley version of my life, surrounded me with things who don’t speak like I do and had to learn to communicate by force just to beg for mercy I don’t get

I’m dwelling again. Maman keeps telling me not to dwell, that that’s how everything fell apart before. Why I ended up dropping out, how I fell headfirst into the universe’s oddest babysitting job in the first place. I mean, she doesn’t say that, exactly - she doesn’t know just what I’m doing. Maman and Baba think I’m watching an orca calf.

I think that’s what I told them, anyway.

Honestly, things are kind of running together, and that’s scary - that’s what happened before. The days run together, I spend more time lying down than upright, and eventually the haze just gets heavier. I stop reading, I stop gaming, eventually I just... stop. I can't do it again. I can't.

I told Maman I might go back on my medication. She said, you know, that’s up to me. She wanted me back on it ages ago, but she never says I told you so and that’s why I tell her these things first, and not Baba. He always asks me why I can't just decide to be happier.

I would if I could, Baba.

Earlier today, after Dr. L was done with the mer, she just... cleaned herself up and then stepped right out. Left. Said she had to make a phone call.

The mer was still on his back, weeping blood all down one side from Dr. Lachlan’s work today. It was pooled all over the floor. At least she seems to have finally decided she’s taken enough of his scales, and his tail doesn’t look like such a mottled, reddened mess any longer.

She says we’re going to give him an MRI soon, and I am not looking forward to trying to get him through any of that safely. Not that safety is something Dr. L is remotely worried about.

Safety or, you know, basic employment protocols to keep me from losing my mind. I’m on a 24-hour shift, and I should be sleeping right now, but even though I can barely handle standing up, I’m wide, wide awake.

I think it’s making the thoughts worse. I never sleep anymore, except when Miah comes in to give me a day off now and then. She can tell, I know it, but she’s nice enough not to say anything.

I should ask her out on another date, the first one was amazing, but... I don’t know. We kissed at the end and she asked me if I wanted to go inside with her and I said no. Because...

I don't know why.

Because I'm afraid I'll, what, infect her with depression? Who knows. I don't even know. Sometimes it's just too hard to do the thing I want to do. She's made a few attempts to talk since but I just can't seem to find the right signs to connect my brain with my hands.

I should tell her about why I dropped out of grad school, shouldn’t I? I should tell someone that it's happening again. I should tell someone I'm thinking about k

I’ll think about that later.

Anyway... Dr. L left, and the mer was just... lying there, still strapped down to the examination table, looking at me with those huge green eyes. I thought they were eerie at first, almost emotionless, but I can see all the little shifts now, as he follows my movements. I know some of his clicks, what he’s trying to ask.

I know that he asks for help over and over again, and I know that I don't provide it. I can't.

I could

I can't.

I was pushing over the tub of water we use to move him around when he clicked at me three times, head tilted back. There was dark red blood, nearly purple, staining his white hair. She did some exploratory cuts along his neck, I think prepping for a full surgical look at his vocal chords soon.

She told me why. She did. It's just... I’m just having a hard time listening now.

I keep looking at him and thinking of how I would feel if my life had gone from family and ocean life to being strapped down and made to bleed for the education - and probably entertainment - of creatures I couldn’t even begin to know.

We talk about alien abductions, but humans are the ones who sometimes just take things and cut them apart to look inside. To Kima, I’m the alien, the evil villain, the monster under the

Bahram you are losing your grip. Stop it.

The blood he lost pooled underneath him and it stained the water as I moved him from the exam table back to his tank. It stained his hair and my hands. He smelled like copper and seawater in those moments. He smelled like bloody tears.

I almost threw up but I couldn't find the energy even for that.

Dr. L told Miah’s dad that forced-captive mer don’t usually last more than a year, especially young ones. I was thinking about that, and how does she know? There aren’t even enough official captivities to begin to have expert knowledge on that, let alone of calves.

Right?

Is there something she’s not telling me about how she knows that kind of information?

Kima clicked at me three times and I just smiled at him. He’s getting used to smiles, I think he gets that they’re not a sign of danger or being angry at this point. He tries to smile back sometimes, although that mouthful of fangs is a little unsettling, even if he means well.

I said, “I know it hurts, but I promise I’ll put something on there for the pain in just a second.”

He made a sound very much like a chirp and settled back as best he could, but I could see how it hurt him.

I hate this job.

I hate myself.

I rolled him back down into the tank room, past the computer and the couch and everything, but when it came time to give him an injection to sedate him I just... couldn't do it.

I had to sit down on the couch and just stare. I don't even know what I thought, or how long I did it. But eventually I heard a soft sound like rhythmic scrapes, and I looked up-

And there's Kima.

He was throwing himself against the side of his rolling travel tank to make it roll inch by inch across the floor, closing the distance between us.

When he got close, our eyes met.

I was in the water and out of it, breathing through gills and breathing air. I had rubbery thick skin and heavier weight and thin layers of delicate cells interlocking over muscle and bone. All of it at once.

In my head, I thought was told, Bahram sad.

"Yes." What else could I possibly say?

Kima watched me, solemn and still, with those enormous allover green eyes. Then he pushed upwards, hooking his arms over the side of his travel tank. Dark blood ran mixed with our imported seawater down from the cuts over his neck, staining grayish skin

Kima sad.

None of this was in words. All of it is simply... thoughts. Full thoughts, slipping back and forth like fins in water, slippery as eels. Thoughts that aren't words, but images, feelings, visions behind my eyelids.

I should tell Dr. L he talks to me this way.

I should absolutely not tell her that.

"I'm sorry," I said. My voice cracked, like being a teenager all over again. I could share with him how awful and guilty I felt. I could show that to him. "I didn't know. I didn't know you were... You could think."

"Bbhhh-rrrmmm," Kima said out loud. He tries so hard to make the sounds work. I can't possibly type them out in a way that actually reflects how he says it. "Bhhhh-rmmm. Heh-... ehp. Ulp."

Bahram help.

His brow furrows a little, head tipping to one side. White hair sticks to his cheeks and forehead, drips water down him. His nose slits flare as he breathes through lungs for the moment.

"I don't know how to help you," I said, and put my head in my hands. "I don't know what to do."

He was quiet, then. He looked confused more than disappointed.

After a while, I found the energy to put him back in his big tank and even dropped some fish in. After that, it took all I had in me to dump the bloodied travel tank water and make it back to lie down on the couch.

I've been here basically ever since.

I should read or study but I can't. I just physically can't make myself move. Kima watches me sometimes, and I watch him nurse the bruises and blisters and bloodied wounds Dr. L opened on him. The new ones starting to layer over the old.

He tries to think Bahram help but I don't answer. I don't even have the words to begin.

How do I tell him I need help, too?

If I do, I could lose this job.

Would anyone else talk to him? Miah, yeah, but she has school, she can't be here very often. Who else would take this job?

Would they be worse at it than I am?

Is that even possible?

The alarm just went off

Never mind. It was just Dr. L, she bumped one of the alarms with her hip. She's come back carrying a box. She said tomorrow we take some skin.

I didn't ask how much.

Just said okay, watched her head for the lab, and laid back down on the couch. Kima asked what skin is. I decided not to tell him.

I can't keep being the bad guy, I have to quit.

I can't quit, who would take care of him?

So instead of doing anything, I do nothing. Just like before.

I should tell someone it's happening again.

I should tell someone, anyone, that it's happening again.

Literally anyone.

I'm so tired.

Bahram help.

Okay, but could someone help Bahram, maybe, too?

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @thefancydoughnut @whumptywhumpdump @boxboysandotherwhump @yet-another-heathen @fanmanga1357-blog @justabitofwhump @crystalrainwing @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @orchidscript @whump-tr0pes @hackles-up

#signs of the sea #clinical depression #depression tw #whump #captivity #reluctant whumper #caretaker whumper #guilty caretaker #found this in drafts and decided to finish it #bahram anvari #kima #mer whump #mer whumpee #nonhuman whumpee

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cophene · 11 months

Text

𝐏𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎 | vento aureo; p. fugo ending.

✦.⁺ delivery stock.

table of contents

pairing : vento aureo x gn reader summary : a college student tries getting the attention of some of the most admired and attractive people on campus, only to get caught up with stands and vigilante groups in the process. notes : college au, multi-chapter fic, sfw, doesn’t follow canon plot word count : 2.5k+

═ ☆. THANKS FOR COMING WITH ME,” Fugo said. “Signor Pericolo always gets a huge shipment of new inventory right around now. His shop is small enough for him to manage by himself, but he always appreciates it when I come by to help with cataloguing.”

(Y/n) pretended to look bored. “Oh, is that what we’re doing? I thought we were going to do something fun.”

“Hey, we’re both fresh out of the hospital. There’s no need to overexert ourselves.”

(Y/n) rolled their eyes, smiling. They didn’t mind helping with book sorting at all. The little bookstore was a great place to spend an afternoon, and frankly, they were happy to spend any time with Fugo that wasn’t in the hospital. Already, he was looking noticeably better, his dark-blonde hair shining in the sunlight and his eyes bright despite the slight shadows beneath them. The doctors had removed the bandages wrapping his limbs, and the welts and sores left behind from Purple Haze had faded to pink, healing skin.

They didn’t know why, but they absolutely loved the short-sleeved shirt Fugo was wearing today. It was one of those indie shirts you could only find in independent clothing stores, plain beige with a green monster decked out in crooked horns. Or what (y/n) thought was a monster, anyway. The design was on the verge of ugly, but veered over to the realm of adorable instead. And the little green scarf peeking out of Fugo’s collar was so cute (y/n) was tempted to tear it off and kiss him.

“Do you mind if I stop by the café quickly? I just need to grab something,” said Fugo, pulling into the parking lot.

(Y/n) agreed to wait for him in the car, feeling like a kid whose dad had forgotten something at the store. A few minutes passed, and someone tapped on (y/n)’s window. A girl with sharp eyes and a mouth already curling into a smirk. Since the engine was still idling, (y/n) hesitantly rolled the window down.

“Hey,” the girl said. Her long hair was drawn over her shoulder, along with braids that were a few shades lighter. There was an eight-pointed star over one of her eyes that could have been a scar or a tattoo. “Are you with Fugo?”

(Y/n) had stumbled across random Stand users enough to be wary of anyone approaching them out of the blue. “... Who’s asking?”

The girl stuck her hand through the window, nearly catching (y/n) in the eye. “Call me Sheila. I work with Fugo at the café.”

(Y/n) reluctantly returned the handshake. “(Y/n).”

“I honestly thought you’d be more attractive.”

(Y/n) blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“Don’t be. It’s not really your fault. Genetics and all that.”

Sheila surprised (y/n) by opening the backseat door and getting in Fugo’s car, cool as a cucumber. Was she supposed to get a ride with (y/n) and Fugo or something?

“I mean, with the way he was going on about you, people would think you were straight out of a renaissance painting. I’ve never seen Fugo act like such a dumbass. Has he asked you out yet?”

“I don’t—”

“I don’t know how he would. That guy has less charm than a concrete wall. He always gets more tips than me when he busses tables, though. It must be how painfully timid he seems. Is that what drew you to him? His tragic shyness?”

(Y/n) blinked at her. Blunt. That was the word (y/n) had been looking for. This girl didn’t seem fond of softening her words, no matter what it was she said.

The driver’s side door opened, and Fugo slid into his seat.

“Sorry you had to wait. I had to look around for—Sheila? W hat the hell are you doing in my car? ”

Shelia wound a braid around her finger. “I was just talking to your elusive crush. No need to sound so horrified.”

Fugo’s face turned an impressive shade of red. “Get out.”

“Is this what you’re up to when I have to cover your shifts? You’re using protection, right?”

“Sheila.”

“I never thought someone like you could get boned. There really is someone out there for everyone. I wonder when my someone will show up. You gotta tell me, (y/n), how good is Fugo? I hear guys like him are absolute demons in bed—”

“Holy shit, Sheila. I will never make you clean the espresso machine again. Just please leave.”

“... Can you say that again? I need to get it on record.”

Fugo banged his fist on the car horn, making (y/n) and Sheila jump.

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving.”

Sheila took her sweet time getting out of the car seat. She walked around the front of the car before saying through the windshield, “You’re taking all the closing shifts too.” Fugo narrowed his eyes. He stomped on the gas pedal and peeled out of the parking lot, barely missing Sheila by a few inches.

“She didn’t say anything rude to you, did she?” Fugo asked, exasperated.

(Y/n) smiled tightly. “Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Fugo shook his head. “Since the first day we started working together, Sheila won’t get off my case. There’s always something about me she can find to badger about. I knew it was a mistake telling her about you. Sheila loves getting into my business.”

“I wouldn’t mind having a friend like that.”

“Oh, everyone says that before they get a Sheila in their life. Between her and Narancia, I’m surprised they haven’t ground my last nerve into dust. Purple Haze is going to come out one day and—” Fugo fell quiet at the mention of his Stand. (Y/n) could tell he was remembering the night of the fundraiser.

“That was stupid of you, you know,” (y/n) said. “I never would have expected you to do something like that.”

“I had to do something.”

“But it didn’t even work. You got seriously hurt. If Vanilla Ice hadn’t gotten the antidote there in time …”

Fugo sighed. “There’s still a lot I don’t know about my Stand. I just wish there was a way I could figure it out without … turning myself into goo.”

“At least you still have it,” (y/n) said quietly.

He looked at them. “White Satin hasn’t come back?”

“I can still summon it, but it’s so weak I can hardly do anything with it.” (Y/n)’s chest tightened at the thought. They hadn’t thought they would miss the glimmering strands if it ever disappeared, but here they were.

“I meant what I said in the hospital,” said Fugo, “that there’s nothing wrong with your soul. If souls are alive, it would make sense that your Stand might change at one point. Or grow weaker. Something like that.”

“Something like that.”

Fugo reached across the gearshift to squeeze (y/n)’s hand.

At the bookstore, the door wouldn’t budge when Fugo pushed on it. He glanced at the open sign, then pressed his face against the glass to peer inside. He tried the door again, pressing his entire frame against it. It moved a few inches, but not wide enough for them to enter.

“What’s wrong?”

Fugo rubbed his shoulder. “It’s … you’ll see. Come on, we’ll have to use the back door.”

(Y/n) followed him around the bookstore, wondering what on earth could be blocking the door.

“Signor Pericolo!” Fugo called, edging around the bookkeeping supplies and shelves at the back. “Sir, are you here?”

The grey-haired man’s reply was so faint it sounded like he was in a different building, rather than a few feet away. When they finally arrived in the main store, (y/n) gawked at the sight.

The entire front of the store was swamped with boxes. (Y/n) literally could not see the front desk with all of the cardboard covering it. Some had been emptied; others were half-open, revealing glossy paperbacks and shiny hardcovers. There had to be at least thirty books in every box, and with how many boxes there were, (y/n) had a hard time understanding how the wiry little bookkeeper had managed to get them all inside.

(Y/n) had never seen anyone look aghast, but Fugo’s expression had to be close.

“Signor? Where are you?!”

“Over here!”

“There’s a path right there,” (y/n) said, stepping around boxes to get to it. They picked their way toward the front counter, Fugo scuffling behind them. (Y/n) gingerly steadied towers of boxes as they went, their heart tripping up more than once as they heard Fugo knock boxes over behind them. At last, they found the cash register, and Signor Pericolo sitting underneath the counter like a child in a pillow fort.

“Sir—” Fugo frowned, then looked around them as though making sure the boxes were real. “Are you alright? What happened?”

“Inventory delivery,” Pericolo replied, smiling serenely. He nodded at (y/n), one of his eyes wandering while the other crinkled in amusement.

“Yes, I know, but this—how did this happen? You’re not keeping all of these books are you? How did you even get them inside?”

“I told the delivery boys to just leave them inside yesterday. You can see how that went.” Pericolo set the book he’d been examining back into its box, then reached for another one. “I have many bookkeeping friends in the city, Fugo. It’s hard for them to schedule deliveries, so I offered my store as an address until they could be picked up. I was only looking at them.”

Fugo pushed a hand through his hair, shooting a look at (y/n). They shrugged, just as confused as he was.

“Sir, you can’t even open the front door,” (y/n) said hesitantly.

Pericolo beamed at them. “Well, that’s what the two of you are here for, isn’t it?”

(Y/n) didn’t think they’d over sung the alphabet under their breath so many times in their life. Fugo and (y/n) hustled around, trying to return the store to some semblance of order, weaving in between customers as they dropped by and raised their eyebrows at the mess. Signor Pericolo’s method of organizing books was easy enough to follow once the boxes had been moved and sorted by type and genre. The majority of them turned out to be copies of reference books Pericolo sold to the nearby schools and colleges. Those boxes were loaded onto trolleys that were ridiculously hard to maneuver, much to (y/n) and Fugo’s irritation. They found that the best way to move these trolleys to the back was by (y/n) pushing one end and Fugo pulling the other. (Fugo was kind enough not to complain when (y/n) squished him between the wall and the trolley when they turned corners.)

The boxes labelled for other bookstores were thankfully lighter than the reference materials and found their temporary home stacked behind the counter. (Y/n) and Fugo oohed and ahhed at the remaining stock that belonged to Signor Pericolo, admiring sleek first-editions and pretty children’s books. They would run between shelves and the front counter, asking Pericolo whenever they couldn’t decide what book went where.

The weight of books in their hands and the scent of crisp paper eased (y/n)’s thoughts. The work was actually enjoyable once they got into the rhythm of it. It was immensely satisfying to slide books onto shelves and watch the pile of boxes grow smaller.

Fugo would smile at them everytime they caught his eye in the gap between shelves, his hair adorably mussed. Whenever (y/n) climbed the stepstool, Fugo would hold onto it, even though they were barely a few feet off the floor. There were other times when Fugo would rush up to (y/n) excitedly, pointing out an interesting picture or tidbit he found, laughing at (y/n)’s smartass remarks.

“Last box,” (y/n) said, sliding the boxcutter through the tape.

Fugo slumped against the wall. “Thank god. My legs feel like they’re about to give up.”

(Y/n) lifted the flaps of the box.

“Fugo.”

He looked at them. The tips of his ears turned red when he spied the book cover in their hands.

“We should burn that entire box.”

“There will be no burning of books!” Pericolo yelled.

(Y/n) smirked, waving the book in Fugo’s face. The book was only one of the raunchy pulp fiction novels stashed in the box, the covers featuring half-dressed women and men with gleaming, ridiculous muscles.

“Quit it,” Fugo laughed. He snatched the book from (y/n), then hefted the entire box and shoved it in the back storage room.

“Nobody wants to read those,” he whispered, going to the front counter. He reported that all of the books had been shelved and organized, and Signor Pericolo clapped his hands.

“Grazie! The lovebirds have accomplished in an afternoon what would have taken an old man a week.”

(Y/n) chuckled. “It was our pleasure, Signor.”

Pericolo reached into the register and handed them each a 50 euro bill.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Fugo said, pushing the money back. “It was the least we could do, Signor. We were happy to do it.”

“And I’m happy to give this to you,” replied Pericolo. He wouldn’t back down until (y/n) and Fugo had pocketed the money. “Pick something out that you like and then get out of here! Don’t spend the day here with little old me.” He waved his hands at them.

(Y/n) could not resist grabbing the pulp fiction novel. They flipped through it, reading aloud all the steamy portions to Fugo on the ride back, in a ridiculous breathy voice that made Fugo bite down on his lip to hold back laughter.

They arrived back at Sapiena just as the sun was beginning to set. (Y/n) finished the paragraph as Fugo killed the engine.

“He nibbled my neck and shivers raced across my skin. He was so powerful. So dominant. Of course, he would protect me.”

“How are you reading all of that with a straight face?”

“Because it’s funny. Imagine if everyone walked around saying stuff like this.”

“I dunno, sounds pretty nice.”

(Y/n) shoved his shoulder. “Shut up. That’s terrible.”

“Is it? What would you say if someone nibbled on your neck?”

Fugo was leaning towards them. His eyes were intent on (y/n), strands of hair falling into his face. (Y/n) tucked them behind his ears, suddenly keenly aware of their heartbeat.

Their hand lingered by his face.

“Can I kiss you?”

Fugo’s breath hitched.

“Of course.”

(Y/n)’s fingers slid into his hair, and they pulled him close. His mouth was warm, irresistibly soft. They felt him twist in his seat, wanting to get closer, his hands moving to their back.

Fugo made a strained noise, and (y/n) jolted back.

“Seatbelt,” he muttered. “I forgot my goddamn seatbelt.”

(Y/n) smiled ruefully. “Way to ruin the mood.”

“God, I’m sorry,” he laughed. “Can we do that again?”

His mouth found (y/n)’s, and the two of them would’ve stayed like that a lot longer if Fugo hadn’t accidentally touched the car horn, scaring the shit out of them.

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s the car’s fault, not yours.”

“I’m so bad at this,” Fugo groaned. “I need to pick up a book on making out or something.”

(Y/n) smirked. “The best way to learn is with practice.”

table of contents

#pseuminova #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba fanfic #vento aureo #vento aureo x reader #golden wind #golden wind x reader #gender neutral reader #modern au

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here-to-cause-suffering · 1 year

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tell me what grounded!tko's deal is in this au like does he have any cool powers *looking*

Actually no! Quite the opposite, unfortunately 😔 Well, kind of. If you count the uncontrollable exploding!

Gonna start this by saying the au is based off the game Grounded, which is incredibly fun to play, especially with friends. (This is important and I'll get back to this later, but spoilers for that)

So in short, during Dark Plaza, PKO, Rad, End and Dendy got depowered and that lead to them being kidnapped, shrunk and thrown into Boxmore backyard basically. TKO was very much there for that!

After a while he gains a few mutations though! These are all ones based off the game, but this results in him being a physical disaster— KO, Dendy, Rad and Enid are as well, but I haven't quite figured out everyone's mutations yet, though they'd all have Reliable Friend (that just allows you to revive people faster!)

The most important ones for TKO are Truffle Tussle, Mithardism and Mom Genes!

Mom Genes is a mutation you get after defeating The Broodmother, and it's an incredibly useful mutation that recently just got a huge boost! In context of the au, it messed him up pretty severely, giving him the extra eyes, along with changing his vocal chords to allow his screams to summon spiders (I like to imagine spiders just crawling out of his pockets because it's just funny) and making his bites venomous (but not fatal!)

Truffle Tussle is received after defeating a Infected Ladybug boss in the Haze Lab, so he doesn't receive this mutation for a WHILEE, like I'm talking months. Essentially, the fungus from the Haze has infected him (and KO!) causing their punches to sometimes just uncontrollably explode, as well as a few other unpleasant side affects. Truffle Tussle is also why the extra eyes are spirally and purple! (The implications of this are pretty brutal but I won't get into that right now)

Mithardism is received after killing a bunch of Wolf Spiders, in his case, fifteen. It's basically a resistance to almost any toxins, including allergens, but not venom, making them basically do nothing to KO or TKO. At most making them only mildly sick.

His armor also provides some help, providing an extra poison coating, both a good deterrent for bugs who might want to eat him but also doing serious damage by helping provide a poison coating.

edit:

I have so much about this and I'm not even finished making the au they're such funky children I love them

second edit:

ALSO ALSO YES HE GETS TO CHILL AND GET ALONG WITH PEOPLE AND STOPS BEING TREATED LIKE SHIT I FORGOT TO MENTION THAT

FUN FACT: RAD AND ENID HELP HIM GET THE MATERIALS TO PAINT HIS ARMOR SO HES WEARING THE COLORS HE LIKES

#i got a bit carried away #hes funny i love him hes a good boy #i hope i explaiend this well enough #ok ko #ok ko au #grounded!tko

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neonponders · 2 years

Text

Harringrove Week prompt for the 27th:

Time Loop/Time Travel

I’m surprised by how well this starting writing itself. Timey wimey stuff isn’t my usual forté. Lemme know what you think 👉🏻 👈🏻 🥺 even though it’s just a preview haha

“Let me out! PLEASE! HEY!”

“Jesus,” Billy laughed under his breath. Louder, he said, “You’re screaming yourself hoarse in there. Shut up, I’m comin. I’m comin.”

Of all the places for somebody to lock themselves into a storage closet, the old abandoned mall was a hell of a spot. Then again, it was hardly abandoned. Billy had come here to smoke in peace, after all, and plenty of detritus littered the dirty tile floors from the homeless who slept here, the teens who came to screw, and fraternities that used the place as a hazing location.

“Open the damn door, man! Do you want me to die?”

Billy pinched the joint between his lips as he sighed haughtily. He lackadaisically picked up a stray crowbar and jammed it into the doorframe. “Drama queen,” he murmured, smoke billowing from his mouth.

The pounding on the door didn’t let up. Billy frowned, wondering if he should even let this guy out of the closet before this mental or drug episode had passed. He was already halfway through, though, and a jerk in leverage broke the rusted out lock of the doorknob. Billy only just managed to step aside as the guy burst through and landed in a skittering heap on the floor. A glance inside revealed the surprisingly clean staff corridors instead of a supply closet. Billy swung the door shut, hearing the closure click as he turned his gaze onto…

A young guy. Right around Billy’s age. Light blue jeans, grey jacket, a red Nike swoosh on some retro sneakers, and dark brown hair.

His brows lifted once and fell back down as he started to saunter elsewhere. The rich kids usually swung for stimulants luxe prescription meds instead of good, old fashioned cannabis. That certainly explained the jitteriness. “They always start young, I guess.”

He plucked his joint out of his mouth, exhaling slowly…

“Billy?”

He froze, but only for a second. Lifting an eyebrow, he rotated to face the—

“Holy shit,” he couldn’t help but laugh. “What happened to you?”

“Me?” the guy exclaimed through one eye. He had a hell of a purple shiner on the other side, not to mention blood basically all over his mouth from a broken nose. “You—You’re—Billy? Billy Hargrove?”

“No shit. Who wants to know? And what are you wearing?” Billy watched him look down at himself and the weird red, white, and blue sailor costume underneath the jacket. Billy laughed smoke as he grinned lazily. “Pretty sailor boy.”

But that one eye looked up at him, huge and earnest even with a heavy brow bone and bloodshot whites. Billy couldn’t help but wonder what this guy looked like healed up and sober.

“I’m Steve. Steve Harrington?”

Billy inhaled again, taking his time. Maybe it was the weed, or perhaps the hell of a day he’d already had, but his voice exhaled mercilessly, “So?”

Steve did something between a wince and an angry grimace. “You don’t know me?”

Billy’s own features opened at how his voice cracked in the middle of that. “Don’t cry about it. Whatever you took will wear off in a little bit.”

#harringrove #s3 #harringroveweek #wip #neonponders #time loop/time travel #alternate universes #80s!steve #modern!billy

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abysslll · 1 year

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1, 7, 16, 19, 23, 25 !!!

sorry there is so many (TwT)

HI LUMI :D<3

1 already answered (it's trish)

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

atsushi nakajima! i honestly do really like him in canon but there was this wave of people who were so negative about him like. Doing Anything that it's gotten hard for me to keep enjoying him lol. luckily people aren't so insane about him anymore but it still haunts me from my early days in the fandom </3

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

SORRY but fugio

i get that if i read purple haze feedback i'd probably get a lot of context but just. :(. not a huge fan. their personalities don't really match and idkkk. i just don't like them together, i find it insane how much fanart/fanfic there is of them

that being said they DO have a great color palette together so i do like rbing art of them lol

19. you're mad/ashamed/horrified you actually kind of like...

GIO.MIS. enough said.

23. ship you've unwillingly come around to

GIOMIS 😭💀

25. common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

"araki meant to make an underdog fights his way to the top story with vento aureo but he messed up very badly" OKKKKK youve already said that like ten times come up with something different to say. yeah vento aureo was NOT that but it was still insanely good and people need to stop talking about it like it's some failed show. if you want to rewrite an entire jojo part ao3 is right over there go hogwild

#lumi <3 #endless asks #ask games

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joeys-piano · 8 months

Text

WIP Snippet

The opening to my current project, titled Into The Lion’s Mouth. Or, affectionately, Queer Boi internalizes loneliness like a lion’s mouth. Really had to tap into the apathy I felt during my graduation times to get the character voice the way I wanted it 💜

It was never the worst thing, or the best thing, or the surest thing he could think of. Or the only thing he’s allowed to do while still a student at this school.

But sure.

Sue him.

There are plenty of things he could’ve done.

Like, for instance, clean his locker. Exchange his number. Sweep the yard. Haunt the usuals. Buy a soda. Buy a bottle of the sweetest peaches. And then a favorite — a set of eggs, like dominoes across the rice, of a two hundred and fifty yen special offer when he bought his lunch. And read some manga. Copy homework, say two plus two could equal seven. Then listen to music. Scroll the internet. Play Ogasawara like a fiddle. And tune him, just right, for every curse word they could think of. For rounds of Old Maid. Bullshit. Solitaire. Two-Ten-Jack. And just about any game that had him howling when they were playing across the roof.

But those were conversations.

A routine.

The daily sitcom for Sasaki (featuring none other than Sasaki Shuumei, as the everyday local trouble, and every person he had to mess with and the homework he doesn’t finish) that he could fall on without a doubt when the commercials were on the air. But a special program had to come, grinding his runtime into dust.

And that’s the end of that: graduation. It sort of lends itself to be a thing. Like a big thing, a huge thing. Swearing none of this a euphemism, you had to commit to it. And remember. And organize. And promise. And delegate. And finagle. And all the big words you had for Scrabble. That just the weight of it is like a cinder block he had nowhere for it to miss, or that’s the arm-length times an arm-length he calls a pillow (the classroom desk).

Because he’s napping, if you can call it that.

Face planted into an elbow. His footsies over each other, his ankle behind a heel. Then presses hard enough for a haze of colors (think purple, green, and blue) that’ll scrape his eyelids when he burrows — when he tries to zonk out in the afternoon. And it wasn’t different, or that different, or totally different from the norm, from any occasion he had fallen asleep while his classmates were fucking bored. And only to wake up, stretch his arms, and peel the tension off his neck, as soon as his favorite (not-favorite) homeroom teach would call his name (and decided the worst they could do was make it embarrassing for himself).

When the real thing was they’re a joke, standing stiffly when he woke. And eyeing up at them like a lion knowing Daniel had left the den. Because to Sasaki, he couldn’t care less. But would take this over than being ignored. As he was napping. And is napping. And continues — a troublemaker, crashing headfirst through his body when he couldn’t pipe down all his laughter.

#joey speaks #sasaki to miyano #sasaki shuumei #fanfic preview #fic preview #amwriting #writing community #writeblr

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