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bellaxgiornata · 24 days ago

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Letters from the Outside 3:| Persistent Little Thing

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 2.3k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Fic Masterlist]

warnings/tags: 18+; prison!Jax, bit of sunshine/grumpy dynamic, prison pen pals, fluff, angst, mentions of violence, potential smut, canon-divergence, Reader has a brother, mainly short pieces about Jax and Reader's letter correspondence

a/n: How many of y'all caught the fact that Reader is a rival MC president's sister? Just a fun little fact that we know that Jax and Reader have no idea about... Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

series tag list: @kmc1989 @callmesev @secretlysamcro @steviebbboi @anonymouse1807 @bonnyclydecat @chloe-skywalker @kaydallas21

Laying back on his bed along the stiff and musty mattress, Jax stared at the ceiling above himself. His attention was fixed on the few strange stains along the cement above him, his arms folded behind his head on the flat pillow. He'd stared at them long enough now that he’d begun to see familiar patterns in the rust-colored splotches as he mentally zoned out.

Because as usual, Jax’s mind was currently back home this morning even if his body was not.

His thoughts drifted to waking up in his comfortable, queen-sized bed to the quiet coos of Abel on the baby monitor, the soft morning sun streaking past the curtains and into his bedroom. He could just imagine flinging the sheets off of himself before wandering down the hall to Abel's room and being greeted with a happy giggle and a little smile on his son’s face. And then Abel would pull himself up in his crib, excitedly crying out the word ‘dada’ in his small voice as he raised his hands up in a silent demand to be picked up.

He’d carry Abel out of the bedroom and down the hall, plopping him in his high chair in the kitchen. Jax would begin making himself a fairly decent cup of coffee–one that wasn’t burnt to complete shit like it was in prison when he got it. Then he’d focus on making Abel and himself scrambled eggs for breakfast, grinning as he listened to his son’s excited, incoherent babbling. At some point, Gemma would make her way in through the front door to pick up Abel for the day so that Jax could focus on club business.

Goddammit, he fucking missed home right now. He missed Abel so damn bad, hating that he only got to see him for a half an hour once a week. And that was only if Gemma could manage to bring him with for visitation, because he wasn't a fan of the long car rides. Admittedly, Jax’s heart sank every week he didn't step into the visitation room and see his son bouncing in Gemma's lap. Though every time he saw Abel, he looked as if he’d grown so much since the previous visit. Which only had Jax realizing just how much of his son’s life he was missing while he was fucking stuck in here.

He hated being confined in this tiny damn cell all the fucking time, unable to do anything but pace and think. He missed his fucking bike. The open road, the sun on his face, the wind whipping past him as he let his Harley loose. The loud roar of it in his ears, the feel of it in his goddamn bones.

And he absolutely fucking missed sex. Goddamn he was going to fuck as many girls as he could get his damn hands on when he got out of here. Didn't even matter who it was at this point, he'd be tempted to even put up with Ima's bullshit for an hour or two just to feel something other than his own fucking hand.

But Jax and the guys still had quite a few months left on their sentence if they couldn't get out on parole sooner. And the thought of that weighed heavily on him every second of every day because there wasn't another goddamn thing to focus on in here but time and how fucking slowly it passed.

The familiar, loud buzz warning inmates that a guard was entering the cell block pulled Jax from his thoughts. His gaze eventually drifted down from the stains on the ceiling as he focused on the corridor. Across the hall, Moore was hunched over in his bed, his hand stuffed down his pants as he clearly jerked himself off. Jax pulled a face at the sight, glancing away and focusing on the guard pushing the mail cart, watching as he made his way down the hall.

He stopped in front of Jax’s cell, reaching into his cart and pulling out an envelope. Jax’s brows drew together when the guard turned towards his cell, haphazardly tossing the envelope through the metal bars.

“Mail for you, Teller,” he said.

As the guard continued on down the hall with his cart, Jax’s gaze shifted to the letter on the floor. There was only one person that could've been from, and if he was being honest, he was surprised you'd even written him back after what he'd sent you. And he was even more surprised at how quickly you'd written him with how blunt and dismissive he'd been in that letter he’d written.

Pushing himself up from his bed, Jax swung his legs over the side and got up. He crossed the short distance over to his cell doors, bending over to pick up the letter from the floor. As he did, he grimaced at the sound of Moore beginning to groan across the hall.

“Gonna fucking tear that thing off if you keep it up, man,” Jax shouted over to him. “Give it a goddamn rest already.”

Jax's words were just met with another strangled groan of pleasure, the sound making Jax’s skin crawl. But unfortunately, that was fucking prison life.

Turning around, he tried to ignore the noises as he headed back over to his bed. He sat down on the mattress, facing his back to the cell door and focusing on the envelope in his hand. He recognized the script on it this time–it was the same handwriting as the letter you'd previously sent. The one he'd stuffed under his mattress to occasionally read and roll his eyes at whenever he was bored.

“Alright, Giggles,” he muttered to himself as he reached inside the envelope, pulling out the neatly folded, off-white paper. “What bullshit did you send me today?”

Unfolding the paper, Jax was surprised to see the same amount of neatly written text as your last letter. Apparently his response hadn't remotely deterred you from writing him heaps of pointless bullshit again.

“Persistent little thing, aren't you?” he condescendingly asked the page.

Flattening the sheet along his mattress, Jax leaned over the letter and began to read. But he abruptly stopped when he saw how the letter was addressed. To a ‘Grumpy Grizzly’. For a moment, Jax sat there staring at those two words with his nose scrunched and his brows furrowed in distaste.

“Really, Giggles?” he asked the paper. “That’s what you’re fucking goin’ with? Jesus.”

With a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head, Jax tried to focus back on the letter and not the stupid goddamn name you’d apparently given him.

Grumpy Grizzly,

Yeah, if you're going to give me a ridiculous and probably ill-intentioned nickname, I'm going to give you one back, Grumpy. Especially since you didn't exactly sign your previous letter with anything for me to call you by. If you could even call what you sent me a letter. You'd barely thrown a few sentences on some paper, I'd hate to see how you craft a grocery list.

Jax paused his reading, his expression morphing into one of mild surprise as he chuckled quietly to himself. After the first letter you'd sent him, this was not what he’d expected from you.

“So you're a fiery thing, too?” he murmured to the paper, as if he was somehow talking to you. “Didn't quite see that coming.”

But I'll cut you a little slack. You're stuck in a six by eight foot little box with no privacy all day, every day. I'd be pretty hard-pressed to be friendly myself. But still, the nickname is sticking, Grizzly.

Jax snickered at the writing on the page, almost imagining the attitude in your voice as if you were speaking to him. Even though he had absolutely no idea what the hell you'd sound like, he oddly found himself imagining it as he continued.

You didn't quite give me much to work with in your last letter. But I guess I now know for a fact why you're in this program. I've also gathered the fact that you seem to think it's bullshit.

“So perceptive,” he whispered sarcastically as he read.

You also mentioned that you didn't know what I hoped to get out of this. And by ‘this’ I'm assuming you mean me writing to you. Which is a rather odd thing to ask. Why would you think I'm doing this for myself? What makes you think I'm trying to gain anything from writing to you?

So, obviously, that had me thinking.

“Of-fuckin’-course it did,” he muttered, shaking his head at the letter lying on his mattress. “You're thinking too goddamn hard over there, sweetheart. There's not a goddamn thing to think about other than the fact that you're writing to a rude jackass.”

Still shaking his head, Jax sighed deeply as he continued to read.

You must be used to people expecting things from you. Right? People needing you to do something for them all the time. Wanting something from you. Everyone must have a motive or an agenda in your life. Maybe I'm making incorrect assumptions, but that's the theory I came to and I think it's a damn good one.

But I don't have an agenda. I don't want anything from you. Even if you don't ever give me a name or tell me a damn thing about yourself. Because I'm doing this for you.

Yeah, you read that right, Grumpy.

Jax paused his reading again, his gaze traveling away from the off-white paper and settling on the dirty wall of his cell. He didn't like how close you'd hit to the truth with your words. Especially since you didn't know a single goddamn thing about him, yet somehow you'd made a pretty fucking accurate assumption about his life.

He was used to people always wanting something from him. His brothers, his allies, rival gangs, and even his own damn mother. Everyone always had an ulterior motive. Something they were trying to get out of him, which made him feel as if people just wanted to take his resources, his freedom, his time, or his goddamn pride.

“But not you, huh, Giggles?” he muttered bitterly, attention returning to the letter. “You're a selfless little saint? Is that right?”

I heard about the program Stockton was starting and I figured I’d join it. Figured maybe me writing to someone could possibly help to ease the pain of being stuck serving out a long sentence feeling like a kenneled dog. Always told what to do and at what time. I can't even imagine what that's like. But as I said in my last letter–I'm just trying to be at least one person who treats you like a human being and not a caged animal.

Jax paused in his reading again, staring at that last line. He didn't like the way your words hit him like they did. Because for someone who'd never been incarcerated before, you sure seemed to understand how he felt a whole lot more than he'd expected. And even worse–you sympathized with him.

He didn't like that. He didn't like that he kind of liked it, either.

Okay, so maybe there are some things I'm hoping to get from this, I suppose. The chance to treat you like a person. Maybe give you an outlet to vent, or just another way to pass the time. Something to look forward to, even. Though, maybe that's getting a bit ahead of myself with you. Considering your last message, I'd be surprised if you even read this far.

It's not like I'm expecting us to become friends or anything. I know better than that.

“Good, because that ain’t happening, Giggles.”

But I don't know, is there really any harm in giving me something more than a couple of angry sentences? You have to participate anyway, so why make this whole experience incredibly miserable? It's not like I know who you are to ruin whatever street cred you're trying to protect over there just because you told me about your day. Because I bet deep down there's a part of you that wouldn't mind writing more than a couple of pissed off sentences every once and awhile. Hell, maybe you could tell me about something you miss in there. You don't have to get deep and emotional and tell me about how you miss your significant other or your mom, but maybe you miss having privacy or bacon cheeseburgers. If it was me in there, I'd miss my dog.

Fuck, I don't know. Maybe this is the letter you tear to shreds because you think I'm annoying. Guess I'll find out if you even write me back.

Either way, good luck in there, Grumpy. I know how dangerous prison life can be.

The letter ended with your name again and Jax stared at the way you'd written it. Just like last time, he really didn't know what the fuck to make of this letter from you. Except this time it wasn't just because you seemed really fucking cheerful, it was because it felt like you understood far more than you should have.

Without anything else to do for the moment, Jax picked up the letter from his mattress and turned on his bed, laying himself down as he focused on your words. Wondering if he'd end up making more sense of it afterwards, he began to reread through your letter once more. But only because he was bored as shit.

#jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy

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whoopsyeahokay · 11 months ago

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October Sun

summary: you'd gone to the school, hoping to find Wally or Shy Boy or Bitnik Girl. hell, you'd settle for Mina Volkov and her volatility, adamant that you'd had to have practiced the right procedures to join her in the rafters. At that point, you'd been willing to do just about anything (exposing your abilities included) to help course-correct after Simon had been hauled away by the cops.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.21

You were willing to do as Xavier had asked. To stay home and rest—not that you'd have been able to do so successfully, earlier events churning together in a wild storm of tragic memory, frayed thought, and sick emotion. You'd been curled up on Aiden's bed, holding Limon like a lifeline, Xavier long gone after promising to pick you up in the morning.

Then Simon had texted; had told you about Mrs. Grace striding into the interrogation room and disarming the deputies' aggressive questioning with a single look before they'd had a chance to dig in. Apparently, Simon was due back at the station the next day, informed he was to give a formal statement that would be recorded and observed by the right parties.

In the aftermath, his parents had been frantic to the point of guarding the exits and refused to let him out of his room. He'd been allowed access to his phone for ten minutes until he'd had to hand it back to his mother.

You'd weighed whether or not to admit that you knew about Simon and how he could see Maddie, but ultimately decided not to do it over text. If his mother had his phone, she was likely checking notifications as they came in—you knew yours would—and that wasn't a problem you wanted to cause.

Things had already gone from abstract to real too quickly for you to fathom, everything utterly and completely fucked.

You were scared. Scared for Simon, for yourself. For Maddie.

Spurred into action, you tiptoed back into your room, pulled Andrew's hoodie out of your laundry basket, grabbed a pair of slip-on sneakers, and—quiet as a mouse—climbed out of your window. Into the tree that stood against the house. Down the thick ladder of branches to fall the last stretch into the bushes. You waited for a full minute before moving, just in case someone had heard the rustled crash.

The windows stayed dark and the neighborhood silent.

They think I had something to do with it, Simon had relayed, they aren't even looking at Anderson.

You shuffled out of the bushes and quick-marched the path to Split River High, keeping to the shadows to avoid late-night weirdos, and possible Neighborhood Watchers who would tattle on you. You didn't have a plan, knew the school was locked and a night guard was on duty. Either Al or Barry, the two rotating shifts between day and night week by week.

Al was old, watermelon-round, and slow; wouldn't give you more than a lazy warning if he caught you trying to break into the building. Barry, on the other hand, was young, loud; had some kind of point to prove, and acted like his uniform made him the voice of authority. He wouldn't hesitate to tell Principal Hartman who he'd caught in the halls after dark, jaundiced teeth on display as he sneered through a heavily embellished version of the truth just to make things worse for you.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you hurried across the parking lot, two cars in the reserved spots. One was definitely the security guard's, but the other you couldn't identify until you got closer. You recognized a charm on the bag left behind in the passenger's seat. A Chinese talisman that Ms. Chung had had dozens of strung around her office.

"What happened to Aiden?" Ms. Chung asked, friendly and serene.

"He...someone..."

Ms. Chung shook her head and tsked, "The truth. What happened to your brother? He fell, didn't he? And you believe it's because you weren't watching him closely enough."

You searched your memory, confused, everything muddled. It'd only been two days since you'd been released from the hospital. Two days since Aiden's death, yet you couldn't form a clear enough picture to share with the grief counselor. There'd been rain. Old wood. The farmhouse's interior a blur as you ran...in? Blood. So much blood. And Aiden, porcelain pale, lips blue, bruises...bruises? God, the blood.

"No, he..."

"He fell down the stairs." Ms. Chung repeated, writing something down in her notebook before casting you a pitying look.

You banished the memory and moved on quickly. You didn't have time to wonder why she'd left her car behind. Unless she was there to have the freakiest date ever with the security guard on duty.

Vigilant, you jogged to the back of the school where you stopped a few feet short of the door. You were relying—perhaps too much—on the connection between you and Wally, blind hope warring with better judgment as you chanted his name in your mind. Over and over, infused with pleas to come find you.

It was stupid, you thought, the dumbest idea anyone had ever had, begging a ghost to ride in like a white knight on the back of the telepathy neither of you had. What was worse was that, even upon entering the school grounds, the connection had only murmured to life, a barely-there purr reaching outward like a cat stretching after a nap. It was unbothered, the way you'd noticed it was when you and Wally weren't within a specific radius of one another.

While it made it easy to concentrate in class, that little mechanism made you want to punch a hole through the fabric of the universe and throttle whatever divine entity had thought it up. Motherfucker. Still, you hoped it would be enough to get Wally's attention.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Wally felt your presence as soon as you'd stepped through the barrier. A sweet honey tug in his gut that made his lips tingle and his skin warm.

He glanced at the others, sat together in the library as friends despite the drama earlier. The atmosphere was the kind of comfortable that gave Wally hope things were back on the right track.

Rhonda had just finished explaining how the Devils had become the Bandits, an old yearbook open in front of her, and they'd collectively agreed to keep Simon a secret from Mr. Martin.

A sense of excitement fizzed in Wally's core at the thought of sharing a secret with his friends. He couldn't recall ever having had one since his death. Nothing important, anyway. Which he'd feel strange about if it weren't for the fact that he'd shared a finite amount of space with the same handful of people for forty years (he ignored how his gut twinged).

And now he possessed two important secrets. One of which waited outside for him.

Charley had just asked where they went from there when the connection blossomed to life in Wally's chest. At midnight. On a weekday.

After how you'd left earlier, Wally was desperate to see you, to hold you, to make sure you were okay, but he wasn't sure how to make a smooth or natural exit.

He could feel how agitated you were. How you beckoned him, needed him, pleaded with your soul for him to find you, fuck, he had to go. Every cell in his metaphysical body was charged and drawn in your direction.

"Earth to Wally, you still with us?" He heard Charley ask and blinked himself back to the present moment.

He slapped on a smile and nodded, "Yeah, sorry, just...thinking about talking to the living." At least it was relevant enough that he didn't have to lie.

Charley looked at Maddie who looked at Rhonda, then all three of them stared at Wally, clearly waiting for him to elaborate.

"It's nothing," He assured, even as the pull of the connection swelled inside him and became more insistent. "Just. I'll be right back." It wasn't smooth, nor was it natural, but it'd have to do. And when everyone cast him looks of concern and confusion, he said, "I'm just going to grab a snack. Anyone want anything?"

Rhonda and Maddie shook their heads, expressions suspecting, but Charley perked up, "Can you see if there are any of those blueberry muffins left?"

"Can do, buddy," Wally saluted and tried to leave at as measured a pace as he could.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Minutes passed and you paced a groove into the grass, hands shoved into the kangaroo pocket of Andrew's hoodie when you weren't combing your fingers through your hair or flapping them along with the angry diatribe in your head. Because who the hell were those deputies to suspect Simon of anything?

Of course, you didn't know the whole story. Simon had only had ten minutes to talk and he'd also been texting Nicole. Probably Mathilda, too, since she'd been on the verge of rabid by the time he was released into his parent's custody.

Fuck this. The connection wasn't working, or maybe Wally was preoccupied, or, who knew, he could be in that strange state of suspension that you'd read about; a whole chapter dedicated to how ghosts basically shut down like robots between the hours, as if not existing at all, until something roused them.

You didn't even know if the connection between you and Wally would be enough to reboot him if he had gone all suspended animation.

Out of patience, you turned to stomp around the side of the building and check the gym door. You knew that's where the ghosts had their unconventional group therapy sessions, and figured it was as good a place as any to start.

"I wouldn't bother." An unfamiliar voice said from behind you in the same instant your shoulder was grabbed in a hard, yet not painful, grip, halting you in your tracks. "It's locked."

"What the hell!?" You whirled around, recoiled, heart in your throat, terrified that it was Mr. Anderson come to do to you what he'd done to Maddie.

It wasn't Mr. Anderson. Rather, it was a tall boy with South Asian features wearing coveralls—the top half rolled down and tied by the sleeves at the waist. His expression was that of astonishment, staring at his hand as if touching you had caused some kind of reaction. A beat, and then he looked up and regarded you in awe.

The longer he stared, the more time you had to process, and with a thick swallow, dread took the place of your earlier panic. You knew exactly who stood in front of you. Arjun "Ajay" Khatwani. Died 1992. Crushed under the belly of a car during Autoshop.

"Oooh, fuck me." You bemoaned, scrubbing your hands over your face.

In the most disinterested voice you'd ever heard, "No thank you," Ajay said, seeming to come out of whatever shocked stupor he'd been in. He didn't beat around the bush, told you directly, "You can't be here right now." And, yeah, you were aware. It was way past your bedtime and students weren't allowed on the grounds after a certain time.

However, studying Ajay, you had a feeling it had nothing to do with the late hour. "Why not?"

He arched a brow and crossed his arms. "I'm not an idiot," He started, "I know you're here to see Wally. Probably because you have information about Simon. Or..." He peered at you studiously before continuing, "you want to find something to help Simon."

Your lips twisted in discomfort. The guy was eerily astute. Sherlock Holmes level deduction that made you want to hide. You weren't about to back down now, though. And, like Ajay had said, you needed to find something to help Simon.

"Congratulations, you caught me. Doesn't change the fact that I am getting into that building and I am going to search that theater."

"Mina isn't on 'lunch'." He air-quoted. How the hell did he know you knew that? "She'll see you there. And she'll see Wally there with you because you two are like fucking salmon to spawning grounds." Ajay mumbled the last part with disdain. Like he'd seen things. "And then your abilities will be discovered by another ghost. And then another and another because, whatever's going on with you these days, you aren't being as careful."

You had absolutely no idea how to respond to that apart from elegantly asking, "What the fuck?" Although, Ajay wasn't wrong. You blamed it on the connection with Wally. How needy and irrational it made you to be in his arms; your lips on his, his hands on you—ahem. Etcetera. "Well...fuck it." You decided, "You're already talking to me. Who cares if Mina finds out?"

Ajay stepped closer to you, voice low, face set stoically, "It's not Mina I'm worried about." However, before he could explain what the very hell that meant, the side door clacked open and Wally emerged, slightly out of breath.

"Baby," He stepped right up to you, gathered you in his arms and kissed you deep, slow, stealing the air from your lungs as he held your face carefully. When he pulled back, he rested his brow against yours, "Fuck, I was so worried. Are you okay?"

"Uhm...no. Not really," You leaned back to point at Ajay, "He knows things."

"Some might say everything," Ajay said, smug, though his face remained deadpan. He looked to Wally, "Where are the others?"

Wally held you tighter, "I told them I was getting a snack." He returned his attention to you, said, "I don't know how much time I have."

"You're not surprised he knows things." You narrowed your eyes at Wally. "Why aren't you surprised he knows things?"

Wally's cheeks reddened and his eyes slanted away. He wasn't who answered the question.

"In his defense, I already knew about you." Ajay said as he moved closer. "Just like I knew about your sister, Aurora."

You felt the ground fall out from under you. Ajay knew Aurora? Aurora, who couldn't see or hear ghosts; who could've easily hidden her connectedness from everyone, had been discovered by a ghost. You'd question whether or not Ajay himself had connectedness if it weren't for the fact that ghosts couldn't. Blood, flesh, and bone were required to make that chemistry work.

Cautious, "Who else knows about Aurora?" You inquired, pressing a mite deeper into Wally's embrace.

Ajay softened around the eyes, gazed at you with sincerity when he assured, "No one. I promise." Then, to Wally, "What do you wanna do, bro? We sneaking her in?"

Wally snorted, "Like we could stop her." He glanced back at you, squeezed your hip when he revealed, "Maddie found something in the theater today. She thinks it'll help clear Simon's name."

Your heart hammered. Were you really going to take the risk?

While you were relieved that there was a way to get the cops off of Simon's back, you still had to figure out how to do that without alerting anyone else to your connectedness. Then again, you thought, apart from Wally, Ajay already knew. You suspected Mina did as well and the only thing that kept her quiet was that she was a residual haunter.

Besides, you wanted Maddie to know you were there for her. That she had more than just Simon on her side. There was strength in numbers and together, maybe with Wally and Simon playing translator since you couldn't actually see or hear her, you could bring Maddie back to where she belonged.

So. Fuck everything. There hadn't been any tears in the universe. The sky hadn't fallen. No storms or swarms or ectoplasmic squalls. Your mother and Ginny had yet to find out. And, you believed, if you and Simon got Mr. Anderson to confess to the whereabouts of Maddie's body, maybe this would all be over before your mother and Ginny ever would find out.

"Bring her." You said with finality, eyes holding Wally's.

Wally frowned, glanced at Ajay with uncertainty, then back at you, "Babe, I don't think I can get her alone right now. She's with Charley and Rhonda, and they're already suspicious. They know I don't snack after 8PM."

It was your turn to frown, "You have food rituals?" Whatever, that was for another time. You waved a hand in dismissal, "I don't care. Bring them. Bring everyone."

"Not everyone," Ajay advised. Sighed. To Wally, "If you do this, know that I support you no matter what. Even if it is digging yourself a second grave."

Startled, you asked, "Wait, what does that mean?"

"Rhonda just barely got over Charley and Maddie not telling her about Simon." Wally said. You could see how nervous he was, "She'll probably rip my limbs off and use them to play mini golf..."

Well, you didn't want that. "So, what do I do?" You could feel your frustration mounting. You wanted to help. You wanted to be useful. But, just like Xavier had done, it seemed Wally and Ajay were forcing you to ride the bench. "Guys," You stepped back, out of Wally's arms, giving them both your most severe expression, "I have these stupid abilities for a reason. Let me use them to help my friends."

"But the rule—" Wally started.

You interrupted, "Fuck the rule! Nothing's happened since you and I started talking."

"A lot more than talking," Ajay muttered to himself.

"I don't care about the rule, I don't care about being swarmed by ghosts and their unfinished business. I. Don't. Care." You took a deep breath, repeated the mantra Ginny had taught you, and then spoke again when you were calm, "Wally, if you don't want them to know we've already been talking, fine. We'll figure out a way to work around that. But I'm going into that theater tonight and there's nothing either of you can do to stop me." You stared both Ajay and Wally down. "So you can help me, or you can get the fuck out of my way."

Wally threw his hands up, a smirk playing on his lips, "Whoa, baby, we get it." He snatched you around the waist and dragged you against him, smirk widening as he gazed down at you, "We're on your team." And then, lower, in your ear, "You're sexy when you get all bossy, you know that?"

Pained, "I'm right here," Ajay reminded the world at large.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

The plan was simple. First, get you into the school and then to the roof undetected (the security guard, Barry, never checked the roof because, really, who would?). It was the safest place to meet and have what Wally predicted was going to be a long and heated discussion.

Second, Ajay would go retrieve Rhonda, Charley, and Maddie from the library—sans blueberry muffin, sorry Chuck. Wally would wait with you on the roof while Ajay explained to the others that there was someone who could help Maddie help Simon.

Third, introduce Rhonda and Charley to you, and pray to every god Wally could name that Rhonda was feeling charitable with her forgiveness. Could ghosts have heart palpitations? Because Wally was having heart palpitations.

Ajay had suggested that he and Wally lie; that Ajay pretend to have been your ghostly contact, and Wally had happened to stumble upon you and him on his way to the cafeteria. A decent enough deception except that the connection between you and Wally refused to let him go more than a minute without touching you.

"You sure you don't wanna do what Ajay said?" You ask quietly, leaning into Wally's side as you and he sat against the low ledge that followed the perimeter of the roof. "I could totally act like I've never met you before."

Wally huffed, grinned, looked at you skeptically, "No way could you do that." He pulled you in closer, long arm around you, big hand on your bare thigh. Fuck. Those little sleep shorts you wore gave him ideas and he wished he'd asked for a few minutes alone with you before executing the plan.

"Oh, you think I can't act? You haven't even seen me try!" You argued playfully, beaming up at him, marbled eyes bright and beautiful and already drawing Wally in.

"Fine," Wally conceded, "Maybe it's me. Maybe I can't act like I don't know you," and dipped in to brush his lips against yours, his hand lifting to caress your jaw and angle your head how he wanted you. "Maybe I can't act like I don't want you," Another kiss, "Every." Kiss. "Fucking." Kiss. "Second." And he tugged you into his lap, hands automatically finding your ass, tongue in your mouth, heart beating wildly in his chest as tingly heat coiled tight in his belly.

He groaned when you pulled away, cute little smirk on your face, "Your friends will be here in a minute. Do you really want them to see me dry humping you when they get here?"

"I really couldn't care less," Wally pouted as he leaned in to kiss you again. Short. Soft. But effective. He took your left hand and brought the back of it to his lips, pressed gentle, dry kisses along the length of your scar. Heaved a sigh and said, "Alright, maybe I care a little."

But you weren't looking at him anymore. Your attention was on your hand, gaze distant, mouth downturned, and Wally could feel the sorrow seeping from your pores like it was his own. As he was about to ask if you were okay, you began to speak.

"Six years ago...my little brother died." You said, voice hushed and strained. Your eyes misted and body trembled so minutely Wally almost didn't feel it beneath his hands. He rubbed your thighs in comfort as you continued to stare at your hand, now resting on Wally's shoulder. A stuttered breath and, "It was my fault."

Wally didn't want to ask how it'd happened, scared to upset you, but you were already there, back in time, reliving the past. Gently, "You don't have to talk about it, pretty girl. It's okay."

You shook your head. Blinked the tears out of your eyes and used the sleeves of your hoodie to wipe them away. "No, I said I would. And I want to." At his skeptical look, "I do." You gave Wally a watery smile, quick and genuine. "He fell down the stairs at an old farmhouse. One of those heritage places in town, you know? We went in to get out of the rain and he wandered off..." Something flickered across your eyes as you pulled the memory to the fore.

A glimmer that was almost lost beneath the marbled colors. It was gone so fast, Wally had to assume he'd imagined it.

"How'd you get the scar?" He asked, so quiet, so afraid to do anything that might perforate the intimate bubble that had formed around you and him.

You stared at your scar again, blinked slowly, opened and closed your mouth a couple of times before finally saying, "Loose nail in the floorboard. I...slipped...fell...running down the stairs to get to Aiden."

Wally winced sympathetically, lifted his hand to place it over yours, and turned to kiss your palm. That must've been one hell of an awkward fall. He couldn't picture it, how your body would have had to have contorted in order for the nail to catch the back of your hand. You must've gone head over heels trying to get to your little brother.

"It wasn't your fault." He said, soft yet firm.

"You weren't there," You whispered, breath caught in your chest, eyes filled with a regret and anguish that stabbed Wally through the connection.

Not knowing what else to do, he held your jaw tenderly in his palms and kissed you. Stroked his thumbs across the arches of your cheeks to swipe away the dampness. "It's not your fault." He repeated, imploring, eyes flickering between yours.

"Wow." A snide voice cut through the bubble of intimacy between you and him. "You weren't kidding. They really can't keep their hands off each other."

Wally peeked around you and gulped.

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY - PART TWENTY-TWO

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits #zed necrodopolis #Disney Zombies #October Sun

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phoenixcatch7 · 10 months ago

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Bit of a shame I left hp before I entered svsss because one of my favourite tropes at the time was 'dumbledore calls in External Support from different fandom during ootp and they show up to grimmauld to help (and utterly upstage everyone in the process)'.

And needless to say Sqq, at any point, would have been perfect.

Like. He's a teacher too. A scholar. Secretly from the modern world so he'd have no trouble with its intricate and mysterious workings, incidentally making himself look very cool and competent in the process. He'd have So Many Opinions. He'd incite bloody war with umbridge. He'd project his feelings for sj onto Snape with a side of commiseration for his role and fate. He'd mostly pretend to know so much less about hp than he actually does (which, hilariously, he canonically name drops in svsss, AND his system is pretty heavily implied to have previously worked in, like wow). He'd be constantly comparing Harry with lbh. He'd have a running internal dialogue bemoaning the world building, the characters, Harry's fate, the general decision making process, maybe some death of the author. Geeking out about magic. Raiding the library whenever he's free.

He might bring his students as part of an exchange, he might bring a fellow peak lord if it was a serious mission (liushen anyone?) he could bring adult lbh. Maybe sqh? Or sqh could be the messenger with the system and/or mbj.

A self aware character who couldn't live with himself if he didn't at least try to change Harry's fate whether or not he actually likes the kid? He could canon that divergence before you could say horcrux. That kind, oblivious, smoking hot exotic teacher who had people ruining their lives for him in a world that was used to people that pretty and also hated him specifically?? The hogwarts students wouldn't stand a CHANCE.

Man the scenes are coming to me so strongly I almost want to write it just as a like. Satire piece or something. Just Sqq ripping everything to shreds, accidentally or not. Diatribes on the author biases. Unintentional themes. Iffy world building choices. Nothing new, but through the lens of svsss' Sqq it'd be something for sure XD.

#Okay imagine. Sqq and umbridge being introduced side by side at the start feast.#And you've got a) condescending ugly old government stooge invader. Short and round. Terrible fashion sense. Trying too hard.#B) the most ethereal person you've ever seen in your life. Flawless glossy classy af. Tall and slender. Immortal from a distant land. Sword #This makes umbridge feel humiliated and inferior (this makes her much more vicious from the start) and Sqq is just ranting internally #About the meta textual correlation of beauty and morality which a) yikes b) he's wondering if anyone in the hp universe has realised #Or used to their advantage (he has a paragraph on riddles beauty he weaponised and then lost)#Kind patient a good teacher he's got a sword and supports the Prank Resistance those poor boarding school kids would WORSHIP #And they'd make it so hard to be oblivious lmao.#Ooooh flying swords vs brooms quidditch?#He'd 100% do a class or session on trans issues just to be petty #I do miss hp and the sheer size and breadth of the fandom on occasion but well. You know how it is #svsss #hp #harry potter #scum villain #crossover #fic ideas #fic prompt #He'd join spew and in a day everyone in school would support it lmao #shen qingqiu

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ohmypreciousgirl · 4 months ago

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Tinn/Gun Rec List

Because peng wanted to read some tinngun, I bring to her great quality fics!

You Have to Go Slow "How are you not nervous?" Gun asks. Tinn was incredibly calm, like he's done this before or something.

"Cause there's nothing to be nervous about. Boyfriends do this stuff. It's completely normal." Tinn loosens the knot in Gun's chest, but it is still not enough to halt his racing heart.

Rose Petals and Candlelight A tiny canon divergence, wherein the boys accidentally have sex when Gun stays over in the final scene of the show

CROSSWORD an alternate universe fic in which gun falls in love with tinn first, and makes it his aim to confess to his adorable bespectacled baby boy

Sage & Sandalwood “Let me help you with your rut,” Tinn suggests. “A fair and square pause to our games,”

Gun releases a humourless laugh; “Do you even know what you’re getting yourself into, Tinnaphob?”

Tinn shrugs, a pout on his lips that makes Gun’s eyes flicker down to them; “Pretty sure that I’m the only person who knows,” he answers. “I’m an alpha too, in case you’ve forgotten,”

Blind dates (and other myths) Tinn was going to kill Tiw.

Well technically, Tinn was going to kill Tiw, but only after he got him to reveal how he got the literal boy of his dreams to go on a blind date with him. Yes. In that order.

Sunflower childhood besties tinngun. thats it. thats the plot.

all you get from love (is a love song) As Chinzhilla’s long-suffering manager - with a long-standing crush on the lead singer, no less - Tinn has had his fair share of odd responsibilities and weird requests. But when Gun asks Tinn to join him on a series of pretend dates so he can learn how to write a good love song, he’s pretty sure this will be his most challenging task yet.

Tinn and Gun demonstrate that they have great chemistry It's moments like this where Tinn wants so badly. He hears the teasing in Gun's voice and sees how he's looking at him through his lashes.

Tinn wants nothing more than to kiss him.

Well.

Well…

He'd be lying if he said he didn't want to do more than kiss.

"Tinn?" Gun says with a little more concern. Tinn snaps back to reality and when his eyes meet Gun's again, Gun is giving him one of those small smiles.

"You are certainly distracted today," Gun smirks.

this never-ending summer The thing about finally kissing the guy you love is that once you start, it gets very, very hard to stop.

moment interrupted Kissing Gun was one of Tinn’s favourite activities. Whether it was a playful peck taking the other by surprise, or a deeper, more emotional kiss when they had some time alone and the mood was right, Tinn loved it all. But there was something about kissing his boyfriend that Tinn had started to grow a little tired of, and that was Gun’s hand stopping them from doing so.

Incoming messages “You’re too whipped,” Gun groans. “Is this really all you’re feeling? Aren’t you frustrated that you can’t have me yet?” “And do you want to have me already?”

Tinn's 5-Step Guide to Getting With Your Crush “How do I make someone like me? Like… what would make you fall for someone?”

Tinn stares blankly. “Me?”

Call Me When It Rains Heavily when things go a little differently after gun's breakdown in episode 5 :)

sweet sweet fantasy “If you get up before me,” Tinn had said, shortly before drifting off, “I’d like to be kissed awake.”

They had already turned the lights off for the night. Their mouths were minty with toothpaste and sore from making out. He heard Gun giggle—no, he felt it, the sweet vibration of chest against chest, the puff of breath on his chin.

“Like Sleeping Beauty?” Gun asked through a yawn. His arm snaked around Tinn’s waist. “What if I have morning breath?”

“I won’t mind,” Tinn said, his voice already dreamy, his eyelids heavier than a textbook. He fell asleep there, with his nose buried in Gun’s hair.

Hard to Forget "Oho. Are we getting the return of Nobitinn?"

Nobitinn? Wasn't that the nickname Gun had called him when they were still in 10th grade? Hidden in there with all his failed attempts at a confession was this name. That Gun still remembered.

"Huh?" He managed incredulously.

"You still look adorable in these glasses," he said, ruffling his hair and then handing him a plate.

Still? "You? Was that?" Ugh, why wasn't his brain forming sentences? He settled on, "You remember?"

Hard To Resist Gun sits on Tinn’s lap. Despite his best efforts to control himself, Tinn’s body responds exactly how you'd expect.

Surrender They were wrestling again.

They had been doing that a lot lately. It always started with a sweet argument. Not long after bickering for minutes, they found themselves wrestling.

In a bed.

Rose Tinted “Well,” Tinn says, finally closing his biochemistry textbook shut, “do you remember tenth grade?”

“Yeah,” Gun smiles, “you used to wear those adorable round glasses,”

“I remember you calling them something else entirely,” Tinn mutters, “Nobita-glasses”

Why do I fall Tinn gets an entire week sitting next to his crush! A whole school week! But for some reason, Gun seems to keep getting mad at him.

Intertwined He wants everyone to know that the heart of the handsome, kind, adorable school president is his and his only. He can’t wait to walk through the halls with Tinn holding his hand.

the student council's ever-changing pin code The student council room pin changes on a Tuesday morning, and Tiw writes it on a piece of scrap paper and slips it to Gun by Tuesday afternoon.

“Tinn doesn’t want you to be locked out if you get there before him,” Tiw says, both in greeting and explanation.

Oh god she knows. “Would you hide it from me?” His mother says quietly. “Would you lie to me? Like you lied about the beach trip? Like how you hid the real reason you skipped out on meeting the doctor?”

Tinn feels his heart stop.

Fuck.

windows to the soul "Handsome answer." Gun says with a laugh. "You ever you that line to hit on anyone?"

One beat. Two beats.

"You."

i'm in stupid love “Nonononono.” He keeps chanting under his breath, searching for clothes and his shoes. Gun is a disaster, an idiot, the least romantic person on the planet, Tinn deserves roses and a fancy dinner and Gun was thinking about singing under his window, he’s been working on a new song especially for Tinn.

Baby, you're like lightning in a bottle Tinn and Gun are spending every moment together before their classes start again. Another stormy night makes sure they have even more moments together.

jealousy is a disease (and gun is terminally ill) the problem with having a handsome, charming, painfully oblivious boyfriend: he will never notice if someone is flirting with him.

The Intrusive Thoughts Win Tinn flicks his eyes down, then starts again, more sure this time. "Is your -- thought -- perhaps something more than kissing?"

Gun nods -- it's timid and very subtle.

Hideouts for Heads and Hearts Gun wasn't big on crushes. The fact that he is crushing on the school president is annoying enough. Now if only he'd stop avoiding eye contact with him that would be a start.

Not that kind of shovel talk Gim figures now that Tinn and Gun are dating, she should confront Tinn about the reality of dating a musician.

Looking Forward, Looking Back He’d last seen this album at their wedding, gifted to them by a teary-eyed Tiwson. He’d called himself the ‘perfect Cupid’. Tinn will make a point to visit him when they’re in Chiang Mai, maybe invite him to their own place.

“Do you miss that time?”

i'm feeling good (i wanna touch) Gun's pupils are so blown out that his eyes look black in the dim light, glittery and wild, purple hues cast over his skin, mixing beautifully with his golden tan. He looks delectable and Tinn is helpless to stop the two things hat happen to him simultaneously:

His eyes start prickling with unshed tears, and his half-hard dick twitches in his boxers.

Fucking hell.

young-luv.com Tinn can feel his face heating up, blood rushing to his cheeks as he tries to stay calm. Gun’s hands are gentle as his fingertips brush Tinn’s ears, pushing his hair out of his face. His hands come down, slowly, tracing his jaw, and then his neck. Tinn can feel shivers, racing up and down his back. Gun is smiling at him again, that smile, halfway to a smirk. The one that makes Tinn feel like his insides are melting. And then Gun is leaning in, and Tinn leans in, and his eyes close, and–

“Hello? Snap out of it?” Tiw snaps twice, so bewildered that his words come out as a question, and Tinn is pulled out of his fantasies. God, he’s even zoning out in class. He’s so screwed.

Jealousy And Other Sappy Maladies Gun looked at him suddenly, eyes burning, “I wish I could just mark you as mine. Permanently.” He murmured in a low voice.

Tinn fumbled with his grip on the glass, hands slipping.

Gun was clearly enjoying the reaction he had, because he shifted very close, leaning across the table, not caring that they were out in public, and literally anyone could see them. He smirked devilishly, looking straight into Tinn's soul.

“When we get home,” Gun promised, his voice pitching dangerously low, almost gravelly, a “I’m gonna make you cry.”

Darling, You Don't Know Half Of What You Do To Me A loose white blouse with a thin beige knitted vest over it, a flowing black skirt that stopped just above the knee, white thigh-high stockings and, to top it all off, a pair of snake-print boots with a heel that was at least 6 inches tall.

Tinn is pretty sure he's stopped breathing.

Alone with You 5 times Tinn and Gun are interrupted by their friends and 1 time they aren’t

All it takes is three d*mn words “Come again then.”

Three words. Hand on his wrist. Warm eyes staring down at his lips.

Tinn is leaning in, eyes flicking from Gun's lips and up to his eyes. He could feel more butterflies start to erupt in his stomach. He doesn't know what's with the atmosphere. They've shared multiple kisses.

But those eyes.

It's like he's daring him to do something.

to the people who are in love They have time. It’s not like they have to kiss now, even though Gun wants to. Gun can wait. Hot Wave isn’t that far away.

A Terrible Flirt Tinn walks in, buys one flower from Gun's shop and gives it to him. Every Tuesday.

In the silence of the night, I think of you Tinn has liked Gun for 2 years, fantasized about him more times than he can count. Most of his fantasies were pure and sweet… but at night when he was alone in his room he sometimes fantasized about Gun in a different way…

Why Won't You Blush for Me? Five times Tinn makes Gun blush and the one time Gun goes above and beyond to get revenge.

#my school president #tinngun #tinn x gun #rec time #geminifourth

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armajestyy · 1 year ago

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Edit: Dungeon Meshi Manga Spoilers!! Beware!

I understand that it's heavily implied that Thistle dies in Yaad's arms in that final panel of him. And I'm actually pretty happy with that as a canon ending for him, mostly because he's so young and he's already suffered so much. He'd probably have a lot to go through in order to return to "normal". I think it would be especially hard since Yaad literally looks like Delgal and that would be an intense blast to the past.

That being said, I also really do love to imagine a little canon-divergent moment where Yaad and Thistle live on the outskirts of the Kingdom in a small house. They'd probably be visited occasionally by Laois, Marcille and Falin. Especially Falin. Slowly, they help Thistle form new desires (based on Kabru's speech for Mithrun).

Yaad may have apologized for his grandfather's selfish wishes, but I think he'd selfishly want to find a way for Thistle, with no will to live, to recover. For his grandfather at first but for Thistle too.

#dungeon meshi spoilers #dungeon meshi #thistle dungeon meshi #thistle #yaad dungeon meshi #i just wanted to write this down somewhere

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firesofdainix · 1 year ago

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solarballs fics masterlist

A collection of ALL my solarballs fics, all 44 (and counting) of them! I don't even know how I wrote most of these in a month; most of these fics are part of the same universe, an alternate universe heavily relying a lot more on fantastical lore and complex characteristics of each character rather than scientific accuracy. Most scientific theories have been handwaved or explained differently. I'll be posting them in chronological order to better understand the entire series.

some of them will be labeled on whether or not they're AU-adjacent or something that can be read without them.

Spacetime Continuum AU

Spacetime Continuum Extras

Extra scenes, headcanons, concepts, prompts, and designs of my Alternate Universe. Used as a companion piece for the main series as a whole.

As The Years Go By

Uranus reckons his past relationship with Jupiter as he deals with his present feelings for the largest Gas Giant.

(A/N: This is a Jupiter/Uranus story first and foremost, with other relationships like Jupiter/Saturn, Saturn/Planet X being in the background. Because this is set in a nebulous, pre-canon era, all of the characters are based on my interpretation of what they were like.)

Ouroboros

Ouroboros: a circular symbol depicting a snake, or less commonly a dragon, swallowing its tail, as an emblem of wholeness or infinity.

Jupiter experiences the same day over and over. The main constant is he always gets killed, lost, or mauled in the end.

Better Off Dead

Hades kills Jupiter. This changed everything. This changed nothing.

or; a canon-divergent ending of the first chapter of Ouroboros.

History is a Story Told By the Winners of the Fight

Jupiter commits murder, and he's in bad shape to even think about anything else. Uranus and Neptune help plot his schemes.

Ursa Major

Callisto's creation and what comes after. Featuring some Jupiter and Callisto father daughter bonding!

Pride Cometh Before The Fall

Saturn and Planet X find out Jupiter's best-kept secret and undermine his authority.

The Consequences of Our Actions

Five times Earth and Theia are warned about their sharing of orbits, and one time the warnings ring true- but it's already too late.

Moons Should Know Their Place

Luna has recently formed from what he believed had been space debris; yet why are some planets looking at him like he'd committed a crime?

After the Battle

Jupiter and, additionally Saturn, did something bad a few billion years ago. Just how bad was it?

Masterless Cattle

After kicking Tyche and Planet X out of the solar system, the giants along with the remaining planets talk about dividing their spoils of war, such as paraphernalia of the deceased and banished planets, the moons, and new orbits, along with some emotional confessions along the way.

A Name Forged From His Skin of Sins

The beginning of Ganymede.

(A/N: This one is more of the fanon interpretations of the character and its origins. It's for the plot I swear!)

Still Living The Same Life

One shots covering Ganymede's new life.

Nature Abhors A Power Vacuum

Jupiter and the VOICES.

Remember My Name

Planet X's ejection, the aftermath of it, and the begining of their fall from grace.

Seeds of Love Planted in a Faux Gift

Saturn finds out about Jupiter's less-than-stellar vision. He helps in his own way, not predicting the consequences coming with it.

Lamentations of a False King

Thousands of years after the conflict that had shook up the entire solar system, Jupiter and Saturn talk about their regrets and understand each other a lot better. Meanwhile, Saturn's promise to Planet X continues to break down.

Tsunami

Neptune's capture of Triton in egregious, gory details.

(A/N: Because of the new episodes, this fic will be considered divergent from the Solarballs premise of Triton's origins. More eldritch and messed up things happen in this fic.)

Accidentally In Love

Jupiter confesses his romantic feelings for Saturn, who reciprocates; not before discarding a terrible secret that will haunt him for eternity.

Everyone Knows

Jupiter tells everyone that he and Saturn are together. The reactions reaped are mostly positive with... a few odd ones out.

It Starts With Sorry

Saturn apologizes to Jupiter for the things he'd done to him during the Proto Era, letting himself be honest about his feelings just this one time. Jupiter forgives him, because of course he does.

When the Paint Dries

The seventh planet's views on his artistry over the eons.

Break The Cycle

The Giants find out about the revolution, but instead of becoming angry, they realize they are perpetuating the same mistakes as their Sun.

(A/N: This is canon divergent and doesn't really happen. This is a simple "what if.")

You Must Be Haunting Me

The planets are haunted by the ghosts of the past. They aren't actually ghosts, of course, ghosts aren't real, but no one is going to tell them that.

If You Need To Be Mean

Mercury thinks about the past often, and how so many things have changed in the past four billion years. Not for the better, according to him.

Saturn's Moons Hanging By A Thread

In the aftermath of the Moon Revolution, Saturn's moons return to their planet and back to their old lives. However, one insult against Titan goes too far, and he finally lets all his feelings over being their main punching bag out in the open.

(A/N: This fic and the next two fics are canon divergent from the episode "Saturn Gets His Moons Back!" But The Moon Club will still happen, although Europa and Ganymede will be included.)

Galileo Figaro

Following Titan leaving his orbit after a spat with his fellow moons, he ends up in Jupiter's orbit talking to familiar faces, who end up, surprisingly, sympathizing with his situation.

Moon-Eater

Saturn uses his power to give his moons a stern talk and a fair warning about the consequences if they ever take things with Titan further than normal. Titan finally gets an apology from one of the moons.

Mars, God of War

Even Mars once had an ocean on its surface. Even the red planet was given the chance to shelter life before it led to its destruction.

(A/N: No longer canon! This one-shot is a what-if conspiracy theory is true, thus I wrote it.)

Take On Me

A collection of moments in time covering Mars and Earth's very tumultuous relationship. Includes copious amounts of codependency and pining from both sides as they struggle to pretend they're not at their wit's end.

That Organic Kind of Love!

Earth gives Mars a gift for Valentine's to showcase how much the red planet means to a planet teeming with life. Mars tries to be thrilled, but Earth's gift is rather... unconventional.

I Need Someone To Remember Me

Mercury, Venus, Earth, and Mars talk about the planets they've lost during one of the rare times they hang out. Surprisingly, they're acting civilized for once; as civilized as they can be.

You Didn't Know?

Planet X returns to the solar system, not only to gloat at how he is still alive but also to enact the first part of his revenge: to tear Jupiter and Saturn apart with the only promise Saturn had broken.

(A/N: Canon divergent for the future Planet X arc.)

Aftermath

The return of Planet X has ever-lasting consequences on the dynamics of the solar system. The Giants are the first to feel its effects.

(A/N: Canon divergent from the Planet X arc.)

I Want You All The Time

Saturn and Planet X finally have their long-awaited fight. It goes about as well as you'd expect-- Saturn being an asshole and Planet X being delusional.

Antithesis

The Iris and Earth are complete opposites in both action and concept. They talk about it.

(A/N: Canon divergent from the Planet X arc, and focuses on a crossover for plot.)

You Got Mail!

The Sun and Jupiter, trapped in powerless human forms, face a deadly challenge never experienced before: surviving a beast-infested Earth, and trying to make their way back home while meeting familiar faces. Along the way, the two must overcome their deadliest hurdle to return to space: their eons-long grudges against each other.

Yorick's Skull

Earth and Iris get a rematch on fairly equal terms. Someone dies this time.

Scorched Earth

After Earth defeats the Iris, he and The Sun have a short conversation over the things that happened within the solar system.

Mania

Earth has had enough of humanity taking advantage of him and destroying his resources, so he retaliates by making their own home planet their biggest mortal enemy, forcing them into submission. Three hundred years later, Astrodude is sent as an ambassador to convince the Earth to stop his massacre of human lives.

(A/N: Canon divergent and futuristic fic. Not actually compliant to the main story as a whole.)

You Want What You Can't Have (Ooh Girl That's Too Damn Bad)

Planet X is allowed to return to the solar system, and is struck by how in love Jupiter and Saturn are- because it had been them and Saturn first.

Lucifer Morningstar Had Once Been Beautiful

Planet X is self-conscious about their appearance, and Saturn notices, trying to do something about it, despite the wounds they've inflicted on one another.

War and Destruction

Planet X has been dealing with their feelings since returning to the solar system, but these violent emotions often come to a head when they are alone. Mars is tasked to help them through it, due to their destabilized relationship with the Giants.

Non-AU-adjacent fics

And I'll Be Yours Until the Stars Fall From the Sky

Iapetus believes Titan has bewitched him, making him fall ill when he is around the other moon. Dione thinks he just has a crush on the least popular moon of Saturn.

Let My Soul Bleed

Jupiter is an excommunicated vampire hunter-mage with a nihilistic outlook on his life and himself. Uranus is a vampire hunter with a penchant for causing more trouble than it is worth. And Saturn is a vampire that had been slumbering for hundreds of years until two stupid people happened upon his coffin.

[COMING SOON] Pierced With Nitrogen and Methane

[COMING SOON] Solarballs x Chainsaw Man AU Part One

NSFW fics

you guys are going to be sane about this, right?

In the Likeness of His Image

Earth and Mars's journeys over learning intimacy, through the years.

[COMING SOON] Take Me Down (A Little Bit Harder Now)

#chel babbles #manji wips #solarballs #erm ill add my other ones later

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cogentsummoner · 13 days ago

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So, how does it go for Dark Might in the Smite Soulmate AU?

good question!

so, the story diverges pretty heavily from kamino, honestly. the world thinks that all might, the world's most dangerous villain, is dead, and so... there's no real huge shakeup the way there is after canon kamino? like, its not like things dramatically improve now that all might's "gone", and the very final few years of his time as a villain were... strange, from an outside perspective. but its not like society has lost this huge pillar, either.

for a number of reasons (shigaraki being a hero, league of villains not existing, another reason i can't get into rn), the war stuff just... doesn't happen. i can see something happening with the meta liberation front, but that's gonna be just them and confined to that storyline, if that makes sense.

so the events of "you're next" aren't taking place against the backdrop of the war. but, considering all might was not the symbol of peace, they don't really have to. i can definitely see dark might deciding to go to japan not to become all might's successor, but instead to "reclaim smite's turf." there would be more active heroes to oppose him, but we can easily just put them in the lotus eater machine from the one woman's quirk.

now, the thing that i really wish they'd given us more of is interactions between all might and dark might in the movie, and considering how dark might fully believes all might to be dead in this au. i'm not entirely sure how to fix that.

i think the only thing that would make that happen is if toshi actually infiltrates the fortress of his own free will (maybe to rescue his soulmate? either if what his soulmark looked like got out and they were targeted for being smite's soulmate, or just wrong place, wrong time?).

either way, having him and dark might have SOME kind of face off where dark might has to realize that all might 1. isn't dead 2. is now quirkless (powerless) and 3. is PAINFULLY mortal... i think that would be JUICY.

also all might wouldn't have, like, the armored suit for this. he'd just have like. a gun. it's very important that yall know that.

anyways, now that i've thought about it a lot more, i think i've lowkey talked myself into incorporating this into the main au

#maxing poetic #answered asks #smite soulmate au

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transinistorarch · 24 days ago

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𝚁𝙴𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙽𝙲𝙴 𝚂𝙷𝙴𝙴𝚃 !

Can ya tell I got sick of it in the end ? Cause I got sick of it in the end LOL. So. I don't consider my Alastor extremely changed from canon and canon kinda fucks with me so, nice, but I have been writing Alastor since the pilot ep and I was COMPLETELY prepared for him to be totally different from canon, hence I have a bunch of lil ideas and divergences about him that do make him a little bit more unique to me specifically and that don't and aren't intended to follow canon. Most predominately my Alastor isn't actually a deer and while I think this is OBVIOUS for canon Alastor also, I'm a bit heavier on the suggestion he isn't what he looks like. For me, he's heavily inspired by the Not-Deer cryptids. Which I went into much more in depth here.

👁️ ) Probably the most unique aspect of my personal take on Alastor is the dual motif of something reptilian, most like an alligator or crocodile. As a result, he has patches on his body that resembles scales and his back has protrusive scutes particularly aligned with his spine.

👁️ ) He's covered in a thin layer of fur none the less, though he is not 'fluffy'. He'd be more like a horse texture wise as his fur isn't necessarily course or harsh to touch but its not plush and silky either. Combined with his more "scaly" patches he gives of the disturbing impression of something wrapped in deer skin or a unnatural hybrid between a deer and some type of reptile.

👁️ ) He has very sharp, jagged teeth. They are yellowed with his gums being black. They are not necessarily even but they're also not entirely consistent in appearance. Alastor has shapeshifting qualities and his mouth/teeth tend to transform to suit his mood, the more annoyed he is the bigger/sharper and more numerous they are. They're always alarmingly nasty, however. Man practically has a chainsaw for a mouth. My inspirations for what his teeth/mouth situation looks like def draw from Pennywise from It and the Creeper from Jeeper's Creepers.

🐊 Side note ━ you probably don't wanna get bitten by Alastor. If you've ever seen a shark bite you can take that and multiply it by about 5. Even a playful nip or nibble is gonna be painful and do some damage. A proper bite is, uh, well you're not intended to live through the experience and if you did by some chance of not bleeding out you have the whole... Infection thing to worry about.

👁️ ) Similar deal with his antlers. Due to his shapeshifting qualities they can appear a little different depending on his mood. Generally they're very small and harmless looking but make him mad and they grow. They're also sharp and when grown ? Very dangerous.

👁️ ) My Alastor is not heavily scared, I'm not even sure where that came from in fanon but nonetheless, its not a thing here. He has one notable scar / wound on his body and this is from Adam's holy axe. He's probably the only sinner demon who has ever survived such an injury and he's definitely paying for it. Its nasty and its very painful. Despite his attempts to stitch it closed, it hasn't healed much and rather seems to just throb and fester almost as if terribly infected and it is also horribly bruised beside being a large gash. This is very physically taxing for him and definitely saps his strength. He's doing a pro job at thugging it out but yeah, I def hc this is a thing and it hasn't just magically disappeared.

🐊 Side note ━ I def headcanon that demons are able to regenerate from just about all injuries inflicted on each other / injuries from non-holy weaponry, including "fatal" ones. However, holy weaponry is different and the only way to permanently scar, injure or kill them. I also headcanon Alastor is one of the few if not only Sinner Demons who was able to permanently kill other demons by apperently devouring their souls. Hence the fates of many of the previous overlords and Alastor's terrifying reputation.

👁️ ) I def headcanon Alastor has a particular scent about him, although I wouldn't call it really gross or unpleasant. He tends to smell little like iron and roux, with an occasionally mossy undertone. He can also have a smell of spices ; paprika and cayenne pepper especially cause his ass does be cooking and occasionally spices have a way of infusing in ones hair and clothes and thats very Alastor.

👁️ ) Alastor's an absolutely bizarre and hilarious contradiction when it comes to hygiene. There's certain things he doesn't like while other things just don't matter to him at all. For example: He does not brush his teeth, doesn't really care about oral hygiene what-so-ever. His hair is some weird in-between where its messy and yet not at the same time. Its long and shaggy but he brushes it occasionally, he just doesn't care to cut it or keep it tidy as he did when he was alive. If he does "cut it" its literally just hacking with a blunt instrument and not a proper hair cut at all.

He's particular about his clothing, but also in strange ways. Its tattered and torn in places but he'd still fuss about making sure everything is right ━ ie, its fine for him to be walking around with ripped coat-tails but he would make sure his tie was fixed properly. He wouldn't like, say, food or drink spilt on his clothing but he doesn't care about blood and viscera. In fact the latter isn't even that uncommon but fortunately never really noticeable thanks to his colour scheme and again while he isn't someone concerned with frequent bathing or using perfumes/colognes, he tends to get away with it due to usually smelling like spices and ingredients in his frequent cooking.

👁️ ) His demon form has obviously transformed his anatomy in many ways and this extends to the intimate areas. Probably one of Alastor's favorite aspects of his demon form is the fact his genitalia is almost all internal now. It has an external suggestion but thats about it. Nothing annoying poking around on the outside unless he wants/needs it. OF COURSE it can be unsheathed but he's decided no one needs to be seeing that and this is the public tumblr so we have some censoring going on. I might link an uncensored, private version eventually, though because I know the world wants to see demon not-deer dick super bad. /j

👁️ ) Ended up giving him the tail because I know he'd lowkey hate it. It sits flat against his ass/between his legs at almost all times though cause he's not showing it off and not making holes in his pants for it. The less anyone's looking at his tail/ass the better, in his opinion.

As far as his clothing goes I don't really imagine them too differently from canon. There is some very minor design changes I'd make but beside changing his tie brooch thingy to green along with his monocle I couldn't have been bothered to make an actual effort to show them. Maybe next time I'll try draw another "ref" to focus on clothing specifically. I think I would also redesign his microphone thinggy a bit too, personally, but yeah, maybe for next time cause I'm sick to death of this rn LMAO.

#👁️ 𝑻𝒂𝒈 : ooc #👁️ 𝑻𝒂𝒈 : headcanons #nonsexual nudity cw #I shrunk the pics a lot so theyd fit on tumblr but whoop take it before I throw it in the bin and never draw again LMAO

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robintherobiner · 1 year ago

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This is an interactive story. The next part will be based on what you guys choose.

Warning, the story heavily revolves around dark topics, like suicide, abuse (all types), bullying, all that jazz. It's an au, HEAVILY canon divergent. So, idk proceed carefully

"If you're watching this, it means I'm dead."

Suddenly, Jason wished he'd never bought the sticker covered camera. He'd seen it in a charity shop, looking all lonely on it own little table. All the other camera were old, and had dents and scratches, but this one looked almost new and bursting with personality.

It had cost a lot, of course, and Jason had considered putting it back down. After all, he didn't need a camera. He was pretty sure Bruce had one at home anyways.

But then he'd seen a sticker, right under the shutter button, and he'd recognized his own costume. Whoever had owned this camera had liked Robin, his Robin, with curly hair and freckles instead of tanned skin and sparkly shorts. He had to buy it now, he thought, and so he did.

Jason pressed the play button again, and stared at the kid on the screen. He looked pale, and far too skinny for someone who, if his Bristol accent was anything to go off of, clearly had enough money to buy food.

"Sorry. I realize that was probably, like, a really big thing to say. Or, not big, I guess, it was only eight words. Tough? No.. Eh, whatever." The kid shrugged. "Point is, sorry. You picked up my camera though, so you have three options."

The whole situation is bizarre. He sort of assumed there would be pictures of nature, or videos of some cool tricks if the skateboard stickers are anything to go off of. Not a fucking death announcement.

Still, Jason is curious. Is the kid in danger, and thats why he thinks he's going to die? Or is he sad? Jason lived on the streets, he's not a stranger to people who's heads are clouded, people who think things will never get better. He's never felt that way personally, but he's known lots of people who ended up hurting themselves.

"First, you could just throw the camera away. A bit of a waste, since it's pretty good quality, but whatever. Second, you could delete everything on here and just use it yourself. I'd be okay with that. Photography is fun. Or, if you wanted, you could watch these videos."

Here, his cheeks flush, as though embarrassed. Its hard to hear, but Jason thinks he can hear the boy mutter something along the lines of what a dumb thing to say.

"Even though I'm going to die, I still sort of want to do cool things. Have a coming-of-age movie moment, you know? But I can't have one, so the next best thing is to try give it to someone else." Camera Kid paused. "I think coming-of-age movies are only for teens, though. It would be cooler if I, like, changed the life of someone who's already an adult. Cuz people my age aren't fully developed. That's shaping a life, not changing it. Changing a life would be much harder than shaping one."

Hm. Maybe Jason should give the camera to Dickhead. He's an adult, legally. Give the kid, whoever he is, his wish to try change a life.

Jason would never admit it, but he can't help but snicker. There's no way some random kid can shape or change a life. Especially not with a... Jason checked. Not with a one and half minute video.

"But if that doesn't happen, it's fine. Not like I'll know anyways. I like this camera, so I'll only give it away just before I die. Unless I come back as a ghost who's like, tethered to this camera, I'll never know if anyone watches these videos."

With those words, Jason sobered. It didn't feel funny once he remembered that whoever this kid was, dumb hopes aside, was clearly certain he'd die. If what he said was true, then he already was. That made Jason feel really bad for laughing, and even a little sick.

He'd seen dead bodies before, even his own mom's. He'd watched, smelt, and heard people die. He'd talked people off the ledge, both metaphorically and literally. But this? Holding the beloved camera of a boy who was most likely dead? It made death feel melancholy in a way Jason had never felt before.

"So, yeah. You have three options." The boy says, and reaches out to end the video.

Jason didn't know what to do. Really, he has four options.

#dc comics #dc universe #batman comics #jason todd #dick grayson #batman fanfiction #interactive fiction #is that what this is called?#I hope this doesn't flop i'd cry

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whoopsyeahokay · 3 months ago

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October Moon

summary: three hours prior, Simon had told Maddie he'd loved her. That she hadn't needed to say it back. And he'd been sure that'd been fine...until that strange, hedonist ghost connection you'd told him you'd shared with Wally had returned with a vengeance, effecting not just you and Wally, but everyone within its radius.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smutty smut smut. sex pollen basically. mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER MOON pt.10

"She's too young to understand," Nanna scolded, "It's ridiculous anyway, he's my husband. Family."

Ginny spoke next, vexed, and it was clearly an argument they'd had many times before. "You aren't connected to that piece of the Awen, Abigail. You don't have to uphold the same obligations as we do."

You sat quietly at the top of the stairs. Even at six-years-old, you understood you'd broken a cardinal rule. Not your family's. A bigger, more important one that affected a lot of people. You hadn't meant to. It'd been a mistake. It still confused you how not being rude had been a mistake, the lessons conflicting, but you swore to yourself you'd never do it again.

Glum, arms around your knees, you listened to Ginny snap at Nanna.

"If she invites him closer to our side of the veil, it could be havoc. It's mycelial. If you give one an inch, they all steal a mile."

Nanna scoffed. She sounded different. Unlike you'd ever heard her. Fiery and stubborn and rueful. "It isn't that serious, Virginia, for heaven's sake. It's John. He loves that girl; he wouldn't let anything happen to her. Or to us."

"Maybe not, but it doesn't matter!" Ginny's voice raised, tensed, "Stop talking about this as if you know anything about the mechanics. You don't. Divination isn't Sight. They are separate."

"Nothing is separate." Nanna hissed back.

You felt a presence behind you, but you didn't turn around. Instead, you buried your head in your knees and ignored him. Dead Grandpa John took a seat beside you. He didn't say anything, simply sat there with you as you listened to Nanna and Ginny fight. All because you'd thanked him for showing you where Aurora had hidden your favorite Barbie.

The argument escalated until a door slammed and a car engine started. Footsteps on the stairs. Dead Grandpa John made himself scarce, though not before patting your back.

Ginny appeared on the landing. She sighed heavily at the sight of you, all wet cheeks and red eyes, and opened her arms to you. You went, lower lip wobbling.

As she held you, she said, "There are some big rules you'll need to learn now, chicken." And it sounded so serious. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"It's okay," You murmured, "I'm sorry I talked to Grandpa."

It would be eleven years before you spoke to another ghost.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

As soon as you stepped over the barrier's threshold, you felt it. Goosebumps erupted over your skin, heat flushed below the surface. The air tasted sweet, the stars above were brighter, everything seemed so much better than it had been seconds ago.

Xavier called out from the truck when you stopped walking to adjust to the suddenness of that euphoria-adjacent sensation.

"You okay, kiddo?"

You nodded, assured him with a sure smile despite how rapidly your heart was beating. He studied you for a moment, eyebrows knitted, but let it be as soon as he spotted Wally strutting down the path from the school to the bus stop.

As soon as Wally had his hands on you, Xavier pulled back into the road and drove off.

"What the hell is going on?" You asked, his touch like a brand searing into your blood, making your cheeks flush and your knees weak. You tried to ignore it for the sake of the mission.

Talk to Simon about what he'd seen in the woods.

Wally swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, and when did that become a turn-on?

"Everyone's at the fence," He said, his voice cracking on the last word, as if he was having trouble maintaining composure. His eyes were blown dark, lips parted slightly as he stared down at you like a four-course meal.

Not now, you told yourself. You had a mystery to solve.

Wally led you around the school to the fence where Simon waited with Maddie and the ghosts. Everyone seemed as fidgety as you felt, no one quite looking at each other, all flushed and perhaps even a little dazed.

Simon stepped forward, pressed his thumb and forefinger into his eyes before he spoke, "Should a random ghost be able to touch me?"

That sobered you. Temporarily. "What ghost?"

"Can they?" Simon insisted.

"No, a random ghost shouldn't be able to touch you. The only reason you can touch Maddie and Wally is because you share a bond with me."

"Right." Simon said, "That's what I thought." He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, took a deep breath, and then revealed, "A random ghost knocked me on my ass when I was chasing—" He cut himself off abruptly, casting a sideways glance at Maddie with an expression of guilt.

"My mom..." Maddie finished for him.

Like everyone else, she looked like she was burning up, her flannel already tied around her waist. You examined the others. Charley was sitting on his jean jacket on the grass, his gaze fixed on a fifth-floor window. Rhonda was pacing, slow, but you could tell she was trying to work out some energy without being obvious.

Ajay's coveralls were bunched around his waist, his foot tapping a rapid rhythm on the ground as he chewed his lip.

What the hell was going on?

You shook your head and tried to regroup, asking Simon, "What did the ghost look like? You must know him."

"Or he knows you," Simon suggested, which, yeah, that was more than likely.

When Simon described a man in his early forties, bellbottoms and a neat mustache, you know immediately who it was.

"You saw Dead Grandpa John?" You gaped, already stepping forward to scale the fence—the gate a few meters away be damned—and start searching the woods.

Wally grabbed you around the waist, pinned you to his—hot, hard—body, and clamped his hands on your hips to hold you there.

"No, no way," Simon urged as he, too, made himself an obstacle and planted himself between you and the fence. "We have bigger things to worry about."

"Like my mom." Maddie murmured, huddling closer to Simon, her face crumpled in an expression of pure anguish.

"Or why we didn't feel warm and tingly when Janet crossed over," Charley added.

A sharp exhale, "What was that last part?" You needed to know.

"Dawn crossed over," Wally said, and, shit, his mouth was right by your ear, humid breath tickling the hairs on your neck. His fingers dug into your skin through your jeans.

You swallowed, forced yourself to focus. "Okay, one mystery at a time," you decided, "You chased Sandra into the woods?"

Simon nodded.

"And you saw my dead grandfather?"

Simon nodded again, "He said something about a spiderweb? I don't know." Then, exasperated, "I can't fucking think right now," as he scrubbed a hand over his face.

"I'm going inside," Rhonda announced, her features set, ready to argue, although she was already marching away.

"Wait!" Charley called after her, "What about—?"

"I don't care!" Rhonda answered from the door, "I can't do anything about outside ghosts or Maddie's psycho mom, anyway!" With that, she disappeared inside, the door snapping closed behind with finality.

Charley grimaced, giving everyone an apologetic look on Rhonda's behalf.

Having rallied himself, Simon was back on task, asking, "Did your Dead Grandpa John always talk in metaphors?"

It was your turn to dole out an apologetic look, "We aren't allowed to talk to ghosts, remember?"

Everyone stilled.

Ajay asked, "Even your own grandfather?"

"Yeah. Even my own grandfather," You sighed, "Not that I care anymore. I need to find him and ask him if the bitch who killed my brother stole his stuffed lion." You attempted to pull away from Wally, "So, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find him."

"No, you're not," Simon insisted, "His Riddles Three shit can wait, we need to figure out what to do about Sandra."

You saw red. Hadn't he heard you!? Didn't he care that Amelia had been in your house, had touched your brother's things? Had Aiden trapped at that fucking farmhouse where he was stuck in a loop, begging for friendship and company and—

Wally pulled you closer, banded his other arm around you, and held you. You wanted to shove him, kick him, snarl, scratch, lash out. But the longer he held you, the more his embrace soothed the impulse. Releasing a choked whimper, your body went limp in his arms.

"He said he couldn't say anything, anyway," Simon said softly, his tone bordering on regretful.

You felt Wally make some kind of motion before he asked, "Just...give us a second?" of Simon and the others.

They must've agreed since, the next thing you knew, Wally had maneuvered you up the slight incline and around the corner of the school building for privacy. Alone, he lifted you into his arms, turned and slid down the wall so he was sat on the ground with you straddling his lap. He tucked your hair behind your ear and kissed your head, temple, cheek, lips.

"Do you always call him 'Dead Grandpa John'?" He grinned when he pulled back to look at you.

Your snort bled into a chuckle, "We actually do, yeah."

"So you guys know you're not talking about Alive Grandpa John who exists, right?"

You shook your head, gazing at Wally with a weak but there smile. "Not even."

Wally laughed, light and fond, and nodded, "I bet he loves that."

"Hey, we're not allowed to talk to him, but he's more than welcome to talk to us. He could've said something." You challenged.

Pressed against him like this, now calm, you felt ashamed of your earlier aggressiveness. You peeked up at him, took in his carefree smile and soulful eyes, his pink cheeks, wet lips... He smelled good. Spicy beneath his natural musk. His hands stroked up and down your back, every pass igniting tingles under the skin.

"What's that look for, pretty girl?" Wally asked as he hooked a finger under your chin and guided your face up, thumb smudging across your bottom lip and then lingering at the corner of your mouth.

"I'm sorry," You murmured, "I just... Seeing Aiden tonight. Knowing he's...he's still there, stuck in a loop and so far away from home. God, it would kill my mom if she found out. And Amelia being in my house?" You choked, swallowed, tucked your face into his neck, and curled your fingers in his shirt, "Wally, I'm scared."

"Me too, baby," Wally cradled the back of your head, "And you wonder why I don't want you running into the dark, creepy woods at night?" He huffed, "Amelia could be anywhere right now."

"She could be anyone."

"Exactly," Wally's voice dropped, low and serious as he said, "If anything happened to you and I couldn't get to you... Baby, I'd lose it, I'd—"

You could tell he was spiraling, too many bad thoughts crowding his mind. So you did what you hoped would relieve his anxiety. You took his face in your hands and kissed him.

Slow. Deep. Meaningful as he held you, his big hands on your thighs, a little whimper from his throat, his bent legs falling open so you were forced to push forward and press your hips against his. Your weight rested fully in his lap, and you felt a twitch in his sweatpants, right where you'd been aching for him since arriving earlier.

"Wally..." You said like a secret under your breath. "We should..."

Should. Do...what?

It descended by rapid degrees. That thick, viscous haze you remembered had distorted your mind the first time Wally had kissed you. The world around you and him dimmed, faded, pushed back into the margins as you pressed into the cradle of his pelvis. A gratified sigh, lips connecting and letting out, over and over, soft kisses that turned blazing as it continued.

"Just a little longer, baby," Wally grabbed your ass and guided you against him, kissed you with rising hunger, "I missed you." He rocked his hips into yours from below, the evidence of his arousal stiff and hardening further in his sweatpants. "I've got all this...this energy in me since Dawn crossed over," he whined before he devoured your lips in another deep kiss. "I can't—please baby, I need to get it out of me."

You knew why. An energy shed. When ghosts crossed over—or ascended, rather—they sheared everything that held them to the earth. Bodies and the space those occupied; consciousness as human beings understood it; all barriers surrendered for their spirit to return to the cosmic nebula they'd dawned from.

Dawn's ascension had occurred in what essentially amounted to a sardine can where her earthly energy couldn't spread farther than the boundaries of the school.

Being in such close proximity must have made that euphoric and peaceful release that much more potent. Wally needed an outlet. And, having entered that bubble, you were rapidly succumbing to the same need.

You were hardly aware of your body moving on his, rubbing yourself against him through your layers and his.

"Please, baby," He repeated, "I want you so bad." One hand clenched your thigh while the other curled into your hair and angled your head, held it still so he could kiss you with mounting passion, "Please, just let me feel you. I need to feel you."

You whimpered, moaned, humped forward, and watched his face contort in pleasure as you ground against him. He matched your movements in that slow, sedate tempo, the anticipation and need swelling between you, around you, inside you.

"Wally," You whimpered as you felt his hand move from your thigh to the front of your jeans, expert fingers deftly undoing the button and dragging the zipper down.

"Don't stop, baby," Wally groaned, both hands sneaking into the back of your jeans, beneath your panties, to grab your ass skin-to-skin, "Fuck, it feels good."

He licked into your mouth, ravenous, hot, all teeth and tongue as he consumed every sweet, eager noise you made. His cock was thick and completely hard, the friction maddening even through the thin denim of your jeans. Desire lit up and ignited inside you with every touch, kiss, sound he delivered.

When he pulled back, his eyes were lustblown and heavy, "I wanna taste you, baby." His nails lightly dragged up your ass cheeks to your hips.

You nodded. Maybe. You weren't sure, everything deliciously muzzy, but you could think enough that you knew you wanted this.

Wally smiled, a lopsided, cocky thing that sent hot shivers through your nervous system. "Get on your hands and knees for me, pretty girl." A command more than a request in a voice like gravel.

Without hesitation, you did as he asked. Slithered out of his lap to position yourself with your ass in the air, legs spread, hips swaying as you wordlessly beckoned him to you. A fucking cat in heat, you'd never felt this kind of languid, cottoncandy desire before.

Vaguely, you wondered if this was what it felt like to get high. Acutely sensitive and remarkably unaware of anything beyond your little pocket of flesh and bone.

Your wayward thoughts were steered to Wally when his fingers slipped under the waist of your jeans to drag them down below the swell of your ass. You heard him moan, felt him press his clothed cock between your cheeks, and hump once, twice, before he shifted.

"Oh fuck!" You cried out, probably definitely too loud, but it didn't matter, nothing mattered, because Wally's tongue was sweeping through your folds from behind before he fucked it into you. His big hands squeezed your ass, face pressed between your ass cheeks, and he groaned in blissful satisfaction as if you were the best thing he'd ever tasted.

"So fucking sweet, baby," He said, and, glancing at him over your shoulder, you saw him lick his lips, his chin already glistening.

He winked at you, smug grin on his face, and then sank down to repeat the action. One finger dipped inside your pussy just to slick it up before it found your clit and rubbed in a firm circle. Your breath stuttered, brain turned to pudding, and, holy fuck, if he stopped you'd kill him.

Wally ate you out like he was going for gold, silver, bronze; every place, every medal, with gusto. And just when you were about to see God, "Gonna fuck you so hard, baby," Wally came up for air, shoved his sweatpants down, and drove into you in one fluid motion. Hard. The slap of skin on skin bouncing off the wall and ricocheting into the night. "F u u u c k."

You fell forward onto your elbows, cheek in the grass, body rocking from every beastial thrust. The noises his cock punched out of you were unlike any you'd heard yourself make, and what the hell was that? You didn't know you were capable of that pitch, that high note; so desperate and needy and completely fucking shameless in your lust for Wally as he pounded into you over and over, blunt cockhead beating your g-spot like a drum.

"Oh God, W-Wally!" You choked, gasped, whimpered in that order, forcing yourself onto your hands and slamming back just as good as you he gave you. So close, so fucking close, just a little more, God, please— "Oh fuck, Wally, don't stop!"

Grabbing you by your throat, Wally drew you upright, his cock still buried deep, and pressed your back to his front. His teeth found your neck; nipped, sucked, licked, his thumb pushed between your lips for you to suck. He moaned like rapture, pace faster, more feverish, as his other hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise.

He was swiftly losing control, you could feel it, his hips stuttering, but he didn't stop, "Gonna come for me, baby girl?" And, shit, oh, oh—two, three, four more hard, brutal thrusts, his fat cock beating the ecstasy into your bloodstream—you came with a force that left you reeling. Waves crashed, galaxies lived and died, and you nearly blacked out.

The instant you clenched around him, Wally roared, primal, from the depths of his chest, nails biting your hip painfully as he fucked his climax into you. His fingers twitched around your throat, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he panted a mantra of your name punctuated by long groans.

When he stilled, you and he collapsed forward into the grass. He caught himself before squishing you under his weight, his hand quickly adjusting from your throat to your stomach as he kept you against him and rolled to the side.

"Holy shit," He breathed, sweatpants still around his thighs, softening, wet cock cooling in the open air.

The feeling rose from your belly to your chest and then outward. It started with a giggle that grew into a laugh which Wally matched with his own. You flopped onto your back, turned your head to stare at him as you and he came down from the high.

"Energy sheds are fucking. awesome." You decided with a wide grin, taking a moment to tug your panties and jeans back into place.

"Is that what that was?" Wally asked as he, too, put himself to rights. He sat up first, gathered you into his arms, between his legs, and sat back against the wall. "An energy shed?"

You nodded, snuggled into him, and stamped a kiss to his collar, "It's a side-effect of ascending. Or crossing over." You explained, "You don't take everything with you when you ascend, and what stays behind is dispersed. Usually, it has a lot more room, but I guess, with the Something-Something's barrier in place, Dawn's energy couldn't thin out." You grinned up at him as he blinked down at you in amazement.

"Jesus, it felt like I popped a dozen mollies..." Wally's head fell back against the wall, mouth slightly parted, brow glistening with a sheen of sweat. "Is it always like that?"

"It's not supposed to be that intense. Like I said, the shed's usually spread a lot thinner. People within a certain radius would feel a sense of peace and pure happiness. Concentrated like it is here? I guess it's a helluva drug." You speculated.

Wally swooped down to kiss you, affectionate and slow, and when he pulled back, "I'm still horny," he chuckled, "How long does it last?"

"I have no idea," You said honestly, a big smile on your face as you planned to spend the night with your devilishly sexy ghost boyfriend. That was until you remembered where you were and why you were there in the first place. Reality crashed over you like a bucket of ice water, "Oh my God, they probably heard everything!"

Wally shifted to peek around the corner, "Uh... I don't think they did." He said, "No one's there..."

"Yeah, probably because they heard. everything." You bemoaned into your hands, cheeks flushed for the worst reason.

"Babe, I'm sure it's fine," Wally kissed your temple, then your cheek, then your cheek again and again, an onslaught of playful kisses that tickled a giggle from you. "C'mon, sweet girl," Wally hoisted you easily to your feet as he rose from the ground, hugged you close before he led you toward the side entrance, "Let's go find the others."

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Simon stared ahead, mortified.

Or, really, he should've felt mortified, but he couldn't bring himself to.

Maddie was breathing heavily, her cheeks a gorgeous cherry red, eyes glazed, lips kiss-swollen. Her jeans and underwear still dangled off a leg hung over the teacher's desk. Simon's jeans, however, were securely on though open, his come streaked on the yellowed linoleum he'd knelt on while he'd eaten Maddie out.

Whatever the fuck that interlude of lustfucknow had been, it'd passed, and in the aftermath Simon wasn't sure what to do or say or think.

Eventually, "Wow," Maddie exhaled, tipping back to lay across the desk. "Simon..."

Simon grit his teeth, winced, eyes squeezed shut as he mentally prepared for Maddie to freak out and tell him never to talk to her again. "Yeah...?"

Instead, "When did you learn how to do that?" she surprised him.

Simon blushed crimson and whipped his head toward her. He was on the ground, back against the wall, tucked beneath the blackboard with his knees up, hand over opposite wrist. He studied her expression as she finally maneuvered off the desk on wobbly legs and began to dress herself.

"It's not like I had practice," He confessed, unsure if sharing was caring in this situation. He did anyway, "I just...listened."

To her sounds; the whimpers and sighs and perfect, songbird moans of ecstasy he'd seduced from her with his fingers and mouth. Fuck, that'd been everything Simon had ever wanted. He'd yearned for the chance to give Maddie that kind of pleasure for longer than he would admit. Only, now that he'd had it, he wasn't sure how to process it.

Once dressed, Maddie plopped down beside him, rested her head on his shoulder, and looped her arms through one of his as she spoke, "You are a very good listener."

He couldn't help it, Simon snorted and hung his head, smiled in relief, "Thanks, that means a lot." After a few moments of oddly comfortable silence, he asked, "Do we know what that was?" Too afraid to question whether or not there was a chance it would happen again.

"I bet she knows." Maddie said as she glanced up at Simon, "We should probably go find her and Wally."

Her head was still on his shoulder, the way she'd rested it angled her face exactly right for Simon to gently lean down and press his lips to hers. Soft. Hesitant. And then firmer, harder, his body turning, one arm snaking around Maddie's shoulders while the hand of the other cupped her jaw.

"We should really go..." She whispered, but she didn't move.

Simon agreed, "Yeah," and didn't release her, both coming together again in a slow, deep kiss.

A sharp knock on the door pulled them apart, Wally's voice calling through, "You guys have pants on or should we come back later?"

They heard you yelp and demand, "What do you mean do they have pants on!?" And then, clearly not having seen who Wally saw, "WHO doesn't have pants on!?"

Before Wally answered for them, Simon called back, "We're coming!" to which he heard Wally snicker and gloat, I bet you are.

Simon glowered at the door.

Maddie laughed, fuller and freer than he'd heard since she'd been kicked into the metaphysical world.

It was surreal. Incredible. A little terrifying.

Maddie stood first and held a hand out to him, yanking him to his feet when he took it. He did up his fly and smoothed his hair back before taking her hand. They stood, staring at each other, Maddie openly admiring Simon in a way that made his heart race and his skin prickle. Wow. He felt complete, whole, at the peak of happiness, and he never wanted it to end.

Hand in hand, he walked her to the classroom door. Simon was both giddy and grateful that she didn't tug away or demand he let go of her even after he opened the door and stepped into the hall to meet you and Wally—equally as disheveled, he noted. Grass stains on the knees of your jeans and his sweatpants; your hair sex-mussed and his smile far too satisfied to be from anything else.

Simon glanced back at Maddie who adjusted their position, led his hand to her waist, and curled into his side. Like a lover. She looked beautiful and pleasured and a little sugarglazed after three orgasms, and Simon couldn't help himself. He preened.

And then got down to business.

"Talk." Simon said, giving you a significant look.

Your response, "We're high on ascension," explained nothing, yet Simon understood. Because Maddie had told him about Dawn and had managed to explain enough about what she'd been experiencing right before Simon had picked her up and pinned her to the desk.

Everyone was floating on some sort of post-Dawn's-crossing-over buzz as if they'd collectively inhaled an aphrodisiac. Neat.

When he took stock of himself, he realized he still felt it. That liquid hot desire coursing through him, less intense but there. He could read the signs of that intoxication all over you and Wally. He'd seen it on Charley's face before Charley had muttered something about the Art room. And Ajay, who'd loped off to the theater.

Jesus, they'd been drugged.

"Are we gonna regret this later?" Simon had to ask, worrying his bottom lip, unable to peel his eyes from the floor.

You must've picked up on what he couldn't say since, addressing Maddie, you said, "It's not like drinking too much. I'd say it's more like an anti-depressant. The good feelings that are already inside you have space to grow and you can't ignore them." You continued to explain what ascension actually was and then added, "I mean, you don't feel like fucking me, do you?" Also directed to Maddie.

The silence that followed made Simon's head whip up and his jaw drop. Thankfully, Maddie seemed to simply be considering the question and doing an internal scan, because she eventually shook her head.

"As cute as I think you are, I'm not coded like that."

"Same, babes," followed by, "Whether or not you guys regret it will have to be a conversation you have," you shrugged as Wally crowded closer to you, clearly not having appreciated the idea of sharing you if Maddie had said yes.

If you'd even go for it, of course. Which planted quite the image in Simon's mind and, oh God, when would this stuff work itself out of his system, please and thank you?

"Where are the others?" You wondered, dragging Simon back down to earth.

He cleared his throat, blinking and shaking his head to drive away the cotton slog that kept creeping in. "Charley went to the Art room, Rhonda...who knows, and Ajay said something about the theater."

Everyone sobered when Simon mentioned Ajay; downcast eyes and tight expressions of regret. Mina's absence meant Ajay didn't have someone to share that pure, radiant delirium with. Or maybe he'd found her, Mina drawn out of hiding by lust.

"We should split up and find the others. We need to figure out what our next moves are."

"No offense," Simon began, casting Maddie a bashful look, "But I don't think I have it in me to come up with next moves right now. I'm still...kind of..."

"Horny?" Wally supplied, grinning like a goof.

Simon didn't say anything, but he didn't have to.

Your determination was admirable. "Alright, what if we split up, and Maddie and I go together?"

Together, "No!" Simon and Wally rejected the idea immediately.

You rolled your eyes, "Guys, my brother is trapped in an abandoned house, Maddie's mom might be responsible for why she's a ghost, Amelia knows where I live, fuck knows where Dave is and what he knows, and if I'm not back at Xavier's before midnight, Sheriff Baxter is going to raid every building in Split River. We need to focus."

"She says like she isn't fondling her dead boyfriend," Simon commented, brow raised and eyes fixed on where your hand was on Wally's ass.

"Oh, shut up, I can still prioritize." You defended, glowering at Simon even as your cheeks pinked adorably.

"She's right," Maddie said and gave Simon a pleading look that he couldn't argue with if he wanted to. "I need to find out what happened to me. And if..." She swallowed, "and if my mom is the one who hurt me. She was here that day. I don't remember everything, but she was drunk and we argued. It was really bad..." Trailing off, Maddie stared at her boots, body trembling slightly under Simon's hand.

He brought her closer, kissed her hair and wrapped his arms around her to encase her in a comforting embrace. "Alright, let's go get the others and come up with what we wanna do next." He deferred to you for first steps.

"You said Charley's in the Art room? You guys go get him. Wally and I will find Ajay, and then Rhonda. We'll meet back at the fence. Good?"

"Good." Wally, Maddie, and Simon echoed.

You beamed, "Good. And no delays!"

Simon studied you for a moment, mouth twisting into an amused smirk, "You're still fondling your dead boyfriend."

You repeated his words in a mocking cadence and simply dragged Wally down the hall, leaving Maddie and Simon to laugh at your and Wally's backs.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Wally was riding high on ascension, whistling a tune he hadn't heard in years (Everybody Wants to Rule the World, and he didn't care what Charley said, it was a hit), literally skipping and jiving down the hallway toward the library.

He serenaded you with the lyrics as he pulled you into a loose and silly Two Step; twirled you, lifted you, kissed you breathless because he couldn't imagine doing anything else ever again.

When you and he reached the book return bins, Dawn's former piece of the metaphysical school, the flicker of a flashlight caught Wally's attention.

Instantly, he scooped you up and placed you on top of the bins, made sure you were safe and hidden before he approached the mouth of the hallway. On that same wave of whimsy, Wally finger snapped like a Greaser in a musical toward Security Guard Al, belting the chorus right into the man's face as Al halted his trek around the corner.

Al stood for a moment, staring directly through Wally to the other end of the hall, and then, repelled by Wally's ghostly energy, went right on his way. Back toward the office where he'd fish another donut out of the box the secretary had left him and watch the second half of the movie he'd been playing before his start-of-shift rounds.

Wally grinned, pleased as punch, and returned to you, arms outstretched to pluck you from the top of the bins. He didn't put you down, though.

Rather, he had you wrap your legs around his waist so he could spin you around and then press you against the wall. You laughed, partly at his antics, but mostly from the tingly remnants of Dawn's undiluted ascension. You slipped out of Wally's hold, feet on the ground, back against the wall, and gazed up at him.

In return, Wally towered over you, one arm propped on the wall above your head, opposite hand lifting to trail his fingers down the slope of your jaw, thumbprint grazing your lips. God, he loved you so much he was crazed from it. He had to tell you. A million times would never express it enough, but he wanted you to hear it, feel it, feel him.

"I love you, baby." Wally murmured as he leaned in and brushed his lips across yours. A barely-there tease that he let linger for a moment before he pressed in, hard and wanting. He hoisted you into his arms again, one hand on the curve of your ass, his hardening cock humping against your pussy through your jeans and his sweatpants. "Fuck, baby, I can't—this stuff is insane," He groaned after he nipped your earlobe. "I need you again, baby, please. I can't think."

"Yeah," You breathed, grinding back against him, "Yeah, okay. We can be quick, right?"

Wrong.

But Wally didn't want to say anything that would deter you from being carried to the boy's locker room—just down the nearby stairs and to the right—and fucked against the tiles under a warm shower. It was a fantasy Wally suddenly had to play out. He'd die all over again if he didn't. And you didn't want him to die again, did you?

"Do you, baby?"

You laughed, "No, Wally, I don't want you to die again."

He grinned into the skin of your neck, sucking a bruise over your pulse point, "Good girl."

Wally needed you naked and soapy and on his cock five minutes ago.

The journey to the locker room was interrupted by various breaks to pin you to walls and ravish you with kisses and desperate touches, Wally's hands groping everywhere he could reach. When he finally got you into the locker room, his cock was throbbing, a stain of precum blossoming through the fabric of his sweatpants.

You and he stripped in a frenzy, playful and carefree. You threw your jeans at his head, he grabbed you around the waist when you tried to dodge him, both you and he laughing like there wasn't a death cult possibly kidnapping teenage girls.

Wally manhandled you into the showers, your knees hooked over his arms, his cock driving into you from below as he held you easily against the tiles. He could see it in you, that his strength turned you on.

"You like it when I have you like this, baby?" He whispered darkly in your ear, one, two, three powerful thrusts before you answered with a beautiful keen and your pussy gripped his cock tighter. "Fuck, that's it baby. You take me so good, don't you?"

"Y-yes," You mewled, a sound that went straight to Wally's cock. "God, Wally, harder, please, I need it harder..."

And, Jesus Christ, that made whatever remained of his control snap. He granted your wish, hips snapping in sharper strokes as he brought you down on his cock harder. He could do this all night. All day. Forever. He wanted this forever. He wanted you forever.

Forever, fuck, please, let me have her forever, Wally begged whatever higher power would listen, fucking into you with abandon, a slave to his lust. You began to tremble into his arms, crying out on every hard upstroke until he felt you squeeze around him. And then, God, yes, and then his own release hit him like a fucking train.

After, he sunk to his knees, adjusted his arms so he could hold you properly. Wally panted into your throat as warm water streamed over you and him, steam clouding the air, the perfect cocoon to escape in and pretend the world didn't exist. Just for another minute. Just one...

However, it was several minutes (an hour) later when anyone showed up to the fence. Maddie and Simon were more disheveled. Rhonda was brazenly wearing Bernie's top and nothing else. Charley's neck was a Jackson Pollock of love bites. And Ajay was doing his best not to look anyone in the eye.

Everyone collectively ignored the heap of nude band students.

You and Wally were the last to arrive.

Oops.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

In the woods just outside of town, Dave paced a trench in the loam, hands waving frantically as he ranted, "That manifesting little bitch!"

He looked awful. Unwashed. Unshaven. Bags under his eyes. His body was weak from hunger, and Amelia struggled to keep his mind quiet.

The plan was unraveling faster than she could keep up. All because of one. stupid. flaw: Had she known what that girl was, Amelia would've killed the day Amelia had assumed her father's body.

Placid, unmoved, leaned casually against the side of the Sheriff's cruiser, Sheriff Baxter watched Amelia carry Dave's body about, movements stiff and uncoordinated.

He allowed her to vent for a moment longer before, "I should've never allowed you to assume responsibility of the ritual." Dark and quiet and so sincere it made Amelia nervous. Raising his chin, the Sheriff leveled Amelia with a stern look, "You've fucked things up beyond repair, you dumb little girl."

That wasn't Amelia's fault. She'd been made the face of the Order decades ago, she'd earned the right to prove her leadership. To see things through in a way that abided with the new era that had been ushered in. Information and eyes everywhere. It was impossible to keep secrets nowadays and Amelia knew her plan would've been foolproof if it hadn't been for Madison Nears.

"It can still work," Amelia insisted, cowed, "I just need—"

"More time?" Sheriff Baxter scoffed, "You don't have it. Neither do I." He stepped into Amelia's space, voice menacing, "The ritual has been unchanged for centuries for a reason. A reason to turned your nose up to because of pride."

"It isn't pride, mother," Amelia spat, "It's survival. We can't risk another event like we used to. It's a different world. We'd be found out!"

The Sheriff huffed through his nose, eyes dangerous as he stared at Amelia, "We could've moved on. We didn't have to stay here." He paused to give Amelia a disgusted look, "I should've known you'd be too sentimental."

"This is the best place, you know this!" Amelia argued. "It could take longer than we'd ever have to find land as potent as this."

"We made it this way!" The Sheriff shouted as he stuck his arm out to grip Amelia around Dave's throat. His fingers dug into Dave's throat, strength inhumane and immovable.

Amelia whimpered, "I'm sorry, mother." She pawed at the Sheriff's hand, tried to suck in a breath, choked, begged with Dave's eyes to be released.

The Sheriff dropped his hand and took a step back, expression once again neutral.

"We don't have time for this, Amelia," He said. "Between the three other points, we have more than enough to perform the ritual. You need to find that vessel and return it before I decide to take yours and leave you in this life to rot."

Amelia made a kicked-out sound, "You wouldn't." But she knew Anabelle would. Anabelle wasn't prone to sentimentality or motherly love. She was ruthless. A trait that had seen her through to now.

There was a long silence wherein the Sheriff returned to lean against the cruiser. Pondering. Clearly angry.

At last, "You didn't tell me your little pet had stopped drinking the tea."

Amelia turned her face down and stared at the ground, her heart in her throat. No. She hadn't.

She stayed quiet. There was nothing to say for it.

"Sentimental." The Sheriff said like spitting acid, every syllable pronounced. "Look where that got you. Your student betrayed you. Your dog is losing control of his only charge." Eyes boring into Amelia's, "Get this under control, Amelia, or I take over, and I will not make room for mercy."

Amelia trembled in Dave's body, "Yes mother."

"Find your little bitch, Amelia." The Sheriff commanded, though, "I don't know how, given both your golems are now compromised." A bitter laugh, "How have I been so blind to your ignorance. Such a dull creature."

"I'm not stupid, mother," Amelia said with more force than she felt.

"I'll believe that when I see it."

The Sheriff shifted. Opened the driver's side door to the cruiser and slipped behind the wheel.

"Heed my warning, child. I can easily perform the ritual without you."

A boldfaced lie, but Amelia couldn't be sure her mother wouldn't find a way. Anabelle was powerful. Far older than Amelia. Far more practiced.

"And keep an eye on your pet. If she hasn't already woken up, it will only be a matter of time." Another significant look, "I think I'll bury you beside your late lover."

And that was all. The Sheriff started the engine and pulled out of the woods, onto the dirt road, leaving Amelia to suffer walking Dave's weakening body back to town.

💀___________________________

PART NINE - PART ELEVEN

also available on AO3!

MASTERLIST

#Milo Manheim #Wally Clark #Spencer Macphearson #Xavier Baxter #Nick Pugliese #Charley Morino #Wally Clark x Reader #fem!reader #Wally Clark smut #Wally Clark fanfiction #Milo Manheim fanfiction #School Spirits #zed necrodopolis #Disney Zombies #October Moon

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