#ah ive been needing new fics to read

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ CRASH LANDING (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!reader

summary: lando accidentally hits a stranger with his car — the internet can’t stop referring to it as a meet cute. (un)fortunately for lando, mclaren agree.

genre: comedy, fluffy

authors note: a continuation of the ending to beached! you don’t need to have read that to understand this, however it will give some insight to the mclaren matchmaker jokes <3 also in light of that, this is set a few races in the future! *oscarsgf user refers to the character in beached!

*faceclaim: keeahwah on ig (but please imagine her as you see fit!)

landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

tmz posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris posted tweets ੈ✩‧₊˚

lando’s texts with y/n ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just posted ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by carlossainz55 and 203,488 others

landonorris practicing safe driving

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user you are so unserious sir

user SOOOO IS THAT THE GIRL HE HIT BC

user no clue but she’s CUTE

oscarpiastri @/fia look here

landonorris i will literally remind your girlfriend of your murder attempts when you first met

user it’s giving meet cute

user i’d read a fic on it

yourusername you literally drove off BEFORE I WAS EVEN IN THE CAR

landonorris IT WAS AN ACCIDENT I WAS DISTRACTED

user ASSUMING THIS IS HER???

user @/user CLICKING ON HER ACCOUNT IT DEFINITELY IS

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by bestfriend, landonorris and 3,907 others

yourusername monaco recap🇲🇨 successfully didn’t get hit by too many cars!

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user AS IF LANDO HIT THE HOTTEST PERSON IVE EVER SEEN

user nah this is actually a full meet cute i’m sorry this is the shit you see in romcoms

bestfriend still can’t believe you didn’t take compensation but accepted a lunch date instead

yourusername can you blame me

user @/yourusername oh girl no one can you are so real for that

friend1 wait till everyone finds out you’re only there for another 4 days

user WHAT. i can’t have them separated already😶

user parasocial relationship with lando ended y/n is my new idol now

twitter reacts ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

[captions:

photo 1: lando paid for me to get my nails done !!!

photo 2: :D

photo 3: ur all romanticizing my life rn but this is my view in a fancy ass restaurant]

texts with your best friend ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris and 11,276 others

yourusername final days in heaven. i’ll miss so much about this place

👤 tagged bestfriend, landonorris

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user wait she doesn’t live in monaco?? she’s leaving??? just after i’ve gotten attached to her and lando???

bestfriend please come back to visit asap i cannot go too long without my y/n cuddles

landonorris seconded

user um lando sir,,, seconded the whole thing? cuddles included?

user this cannot be the end of the meet cute i refuse to

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri and 286,425 others

landonorris safe to say i’ve had a pretty good break between races

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user a whole post dedicated to her with THAT caption? oh yep they’re whipped

user please tell me y’all are going to stay in contact?

user my heart is shattering already

mclaren 🧡

user MCLAREN PLEASE YOU’VE DONE IT ONCE BEFORE

texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚

mclaren interview ੈ✩‧₊˚

[transcript:

o: safe to say you’ve had a pretty interesting break before this race

l: hey let me remind you what happened for you over winter break!

o: okay but i didn’t literally hit my girlfriend with my car!

l: oh so you finally asked her out officially?

o: stop deflecting!

l: okay okay! yeah safe to say i had a nice time. always need a bit of a change in life!

o: so how are things going now?

l: (awkwardly) well you know how it’s… yeah

o: ah i get it. quite literally been there done that got the t shirt. but hey you did say all that when i got my big moment about mclaren—

l: no no no don’t give them any ideas! they’re listening!]

mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 203,467 people

mclaren the boys are back! don’t forget to check out the new interview on our channel where lando and oscar talk all things hopes for the second half of the season, workouts and… girls?

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user mclaren. mclaren look at me. you know what you have to do

mclaren 👀

user when oscar asked him about y/n… i wanted to cry he looked so sad are things over between them?

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you’re such a gossip

oscarpiastri you love me for it

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri you know what i’m thinking?

oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf plotting?

oscarsgf @/oscarpiastri plotting!

user what on earth is going on…

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarsgf and 29,481 others

yourusername lately :)

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user you are so ! gorgeous !

user i can see why lando is obsessed

user speaking of… where is our favorite brit in the likes☹️

oscarsgf pretty girl!!!

yourusername oh?!? thank u cutie!!!

user ^ oh their plotting is in progress???

mclaren you’d look good in orange👀🧡

landonorris posted a tweet ੈ✩‧₊˚

an email from mclaren ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

mclaren just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by 287,456 people

mclaren it’s race day🫡

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user WHO IS THE GIRL

user IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS

user PLEASE TELL ME THATS Y/N

user LOOK AT HER STORIES ITS DEFINITELY HER

user SOMEONE WHO IS THERE KEEP US UPDATED PLEASE

user just posted a thread ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 106,544 others

yourusername i don’t know guys, do you think he’s cute?

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user OH MY GOD FINALLY

landonorris i will hit you with my car again

yourusername is that a challenge mr. norris?

landonorris @/yourusername oh you better run fast

yourusername @/landonorris well duh cause you don’t know how to do the speed limit

user i love them. i love them so much.

oscarsgf omg can we force the boys to do mclaren double dates

landonorris leave this comment section now

yourusername @/landonorris too late we’re already texting

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, mclaren and 300,091 others

landonorris we are successful victims of mclarens matchmaking services

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user THEYVE DONE IT AGAINNN

user new fav couple fr

oscarpiastri oh how quickly you all forget me

user @/oscarpiastri WE COULD NEVER

user clearly i need to work for mclaren to get a cute gf

oscarpiastri @/oscarsgf is the second photo giving you flashbacks as well

oscarsgf they’re stealing our thing

yourusername thank you for posting the nice park date photo of me

landonorris well in all the others you’re mid cartwheel

mclaren glad to be of service🧡 anyone else? @/patriciooward how are you doing?

landonorris i’m gonna stop you right there

———————

a/n: WELL. hello friends. i said i wasn’t gonna post a one shot for a while, then this happened. i just hope its up to standard! i’m a little rusty in my writing considering everything!

in regards to new works, gonna be working on getting my wips out soon, and maybe popping some new smaus out at the same time as they’re easy and quick-ish for me to work on considering everything going on! do forgive me if i do some random family orientated stuff — pregnancy hormones are giving me baby fever for everything (is it still baby fever if you’re having a baby?)

let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs/asks — i’ve missed talking to you all sm! i have anon emojis available if people wanna chat too🤍

for the first time in a very long time,,, love, giselle xx

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca

tags for this post: @the-untamed-soul @itsprashimusic @purplephantomwolf @jasminesacademia

[hana-no-seiiki]

YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT ME NOT F*CK ME!

yan! school grass (most handsome/perfect guy)/rival x crossdresser! male! reader x yan! friends - part one

tw/cw: mention of abusive parents (but not reader’s) and yandere themes. also your rival has some repressed sexual urges, he really needs to get laid or some head or something-

just read migi and dali and gahd NOW I WANNA WRITE A WHOLE CROSSDRESS /GENDERBENDER BL NOVEL IM IN HORRID ROTTING

Like I imagine this the best with stoic and/or tsun yans the best. You know those types that want to be perfect but only feels perfect when they’re with reader.

ive always loved these tropes as a kid, from mulan to that one tawog episode where darwin fell in love with fem! gumball and like this was even before i knew i wasnt cis but gahd AAAAAAA

also inspired by @moyazaika ‘s rival work. go read it!!

but anyways have the fic, lowercase intentional for first part to differentiate povs.

it was a dare given by your friend group earlier last weekend. wear the girls uniform and a wig for the entire month. it was easy to get the materials necessary for the most part. your mother had several wigs and was more than happy to style her son in feminine clothing. she was just amazing and supportive about your whims like that.

it didn’t take long for you to realize that no one recognized you in your new look.

the day started like many of your other ones at the school, you’d race your rival as the first one in class and whoever wins gets rights to a smug look on their face until the next thing you guys eventually compete on.

but unlike the crestfallen expression you expected — nay wanted — from that stupid pretty boy, you were greeted by what you could only described as complete bafflement.

“what?” despite having a different reaction from what you imagined, you managed to keep a composed appearance. “cat got your tongue?”

“ah. . .”

and that were the only words he said to you the entire day. nothing else. not a single groan of anger whenever you answered everything correctly, he didn’t even attempt at stopping you mid-way or disagree with you answer simply because he wanted to annoy you.

and so you couldn’t help it, as soon as the bell rang signalling lunch time you swiftly turned around to face him.

“are you alright?”

you inquired. not at all worried about his well-being at the slightest. you hated him with all your being after all and you didn’t make an effort to be soft with your tone either.

“h-huh?” he looked dazed. like his head had been in the clouds and you just yanked him down to ground.

your rival never got distracted.

“you—“ you reached out about to smack his face to keep him in check.

“if you’ll excuse me!” he smacked your hand out of the way, screeched at you, and then left in a hurry to who knows where.

nevermind that was definitely him. that silly brat hated it whenever you touched him. he must have just been having issues at home again or something.

Haoyu was trembling — shaking uncontrollably as his breaths turned more shallow by the second. His heart was pumping blood in places of his body where it shouldn’t have been in the middle of school hours. Sweat lined his entire skin and it didn’t help how the bathroom he rushed into had nothing to keep the temperature down.

Who were you?

You sat at his rival’s seat. That nasty kid that always got in his nerves. No one questioned the boy’s absence and he would have asked the teachers on what had happened if you didn’t suddenly take his breath away.

You were, ethereal. Otherworldy even. When he first saw you he was taken away by the way your hair moved in the wind (if only he knew . . .).

Still, he was far too distracted by [Y/N]’s absence to properly let the feeling simmer.

Then, all that went away when you reeled in his mind back at you again at class. You were incredible, capable, intelligent, and oh so perfect. But unlike that stupid child that usually sat in front of him, he did not feel an ounce of envy at all.

If only who could see your eyes as you spoke; the tone of your voice conveyed so much passion that he wanted to see in those beautiful (e/c) orbs.

And his prayers were granted by none other than the goddess that is you,

“Are you alright?”

Your voice? Oh your voice! Haoyu’s heard it already of course, but each new time you spoke it was like a whole new melody, a new piece that immediately turned into his favorite.

His mind was too fried with these thoughts, thoughts that his parents would no doubt beat out of him if they found out.

His feels the parts down there suddenly move. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the phenomenon. He wasn’t without his hormones after all. But this was the first time it ever reacted that way so strongly, like if he didn’t give it attention himself it’d explode.

“Mmph…”

And for the time in his entire life, Haoyu does something he knew his parents would definitely be disappointed if not livid about. A hand on his mouth, and another in his school uniform’s pants.

lunch time.

you usually spent those studying or preparing for the next class as hanging out with your friends always ended with you being too distracted to do schoolwork but today you had to show up with ‘proof’ that you went through with their dare.

“yiran ? yichen ?”

no response.

you sighed. as usual, the twins were late. what did you expect? those two would be caught dead before they could be early much less found in the library.

and so you spent the entire time reading,

unaware of the crowd that formed around you while you were busy studying.

[her-satanic-wiles]

Dawn Chorus - IV

Dracopia x Fallen Angel!Reader

When you question the Almighty for a third time, you find yourself on the run and escaping a horde of wrathful angels ready to punish you for your insolence. Whose garden should you fall into than Cardinal Copia’s? And he has more nefarious plans for you.

Masterlist ⛧ Commissioned by anonymous ⛧ Series Masterlist

Words: 6.1k.

Reading Time: 25min.

Warnings: blood extraction, body control, corruption kink,finger sucking, forced sexual activity,gaslighting,irrelevant character death,mentions of death by sun exposure, non-consensual sexual activity,objectification, religious disillusionment, religious trauma, sexual harassment, taking advantage of innocence, use of needles,use of the word “bitch” unkindly

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @dopey-fandom-girl @ravensbars @copiaspet622 @onlyhereforghost @ultrahalloweengirl @ad-astra-per-aspera-1976 @whitepawfics @dolceterzo

🔞 MDNI 🔞

As this fic is quite dark, I'm choosing to rate it 21+. Please respect my decision. Thank you.

“I feel as though thou hast drained all my blood and brought me to the brink of death.” You tried to stand but your body was too weak. “For how long hath I been in slumber?”

“Five days,” the Cardinal looked back to his book, “your recovery time is getting longer. We’re going to have to start rationing if this keeps up. Or get another angel. Say, do you think we could use you as bait?”

“I pray thee choke and perish upon my blood.”

The Cardinal laughed. “If that happens,” the door to his bedroom knocked, then opened, “you’ll be stuck in that cage forever - ah! Brother López. Come in, please!”

The Brother opened the door wider and stepped inside, looking polite as he watched the Cardinal stand to greet him.

“Angel,” the Cardinal addressed you, “this is my new cleaner, Brother Santiago López.”

You couldn’t help the wave of disappointment and fear take over you. But as you spoke, you tried to keep your voice level and nonchalant, “Oh. What befell thy previous caretaker?”

“I found out he was trying to help a certain prisoner escape, and so he needed to be punished.”

“If thou has slain him, I swear by the Almighty I shall smite thee!” Your anger bubbled up far too quickly for someone who was supposed to remain nonchalant.

“Oh relax, you crazy bitch. We sent him to an abbey in America to shovel pig shit.”

You exhaled a sigh of relief, feeling your muscles relax knowing that he was okay. “For what reason?”

The Cardinal tapped Brother López on the shoulder and gestured for him to leave, which he did promptly, fearing what he was going to see. “You know why.” The Cardinal said, simply. His voice quieter than usual.

Your voice was less sharp, but still loud. “I can assure thee, I do not.”

“You mean to tell me that you weren’t trying to escape? That you and Brother Hayward weren’t attempting to break you out of that little cage to get you to freedom, hm? Come on now, Angel. I’m more than happy for my pets to have pets, but when they start rebelling against me, lines must be drawn.”

“Thou wast aware he visited here?”

He took in a long breath through his nose, so sharp his nostrils retracted with the inhale. “Could smell him Every time I came home and his scent was stronger than usual - knew he was here a while. And then when he was under the bed, his heartbeat was so loud.” The Cardinal walked over to the cage and rested his hands on the bars, leaning his whole body on it. “His fear would have tasted so good.”

You spat in his face, hearing some of your spittle sizzle against the metal bars. The Cardinal sighed, and wiped it away before hitting the side of the cage.

“The next time you pull something like that, Angel,” he began, his voice loud and so enraged, “I will personally make sure your little pet dies in front of you, and I’ll make it slow and painful. Do you understand?”

When you didn’t answer, he hit the cage again. “Understand?”

“I understand.”

He stood up to his full height and straightened his hair, then began fiddling with his clothes. “I don’t like getting angry with you, Angel. But sometimes you leave me no choice.” He turned to walk away, but stopped at the door. “Oh, and angel?” He said, his voice soft and sweet like butter wouldn’t melt. He looked at you, mismatched eyes piercing into your soul. “Brother Hayward may be in a different country, but one word from me and all 6 litres of his blood gets delivered to my fridge, and his corpse will be buried beneath abbey soil. I’ll be back.”

The threat of his return felt even more sinister with the tone of voice he used, and for the first time since this whole ordeal started, you felt the sharp pang of fear that had the small amount of blood inside you run cold. Your safety didn’t matter. You were just you. But now Thomas’ life was in jeopardy and it was entirely your fault. Memories of Brother Thomas’ kind eyes and gentle words flooded your thoughts, each one a painful reminder of the danger he now faced because of you. Guilt gnawed at your insides like a ravenous beast, twisting and clawing at your conscience until it threatened to consume you whole. You had thought yourself strong, resilient in the face of the Cardinal’s torment. But now, faced with the consequences of your actions, you felt nothing but fear and despair creeping in, threatening to engulf you entirely.

As the Cardinal’s footsteps faded down the hallway, leaving behind an oppressive silence, you couldn’t shake the weight of his threats echoing in your mind. The air in the room felt heavy, suffocating, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. For though you may be trapped in this gilded cage, your spirit remained unbroken. And as long as there was breath in your body, you would fight tooth and nail to protect those you held dear, no matter the cost.

Your own body continued to repair itself, slower than it usually would. The five days it took you to regain consciousness turned into twenty more of total healing time. The Cardinal kept a monitor of your levels based on how you smelled, which meant every day, his long, rodent nose would poke through the bars as he inhaled your scent, making sure his tavern was restocking perfectly well. He didn’t try and pry any information from you in that time, which you hated to admit that you were grateful for. But he had developed a habit of sitting and staring at you, taking joy in watching you squirm uncomfortably. He’d brought in a red, velvet armchair from the living space to do just that. Every evening, he’d waltz into his room with a glass of your blood, now tainted red from your essence, and sit and observe you, like an animal in a cage. You never said anything: always believing he wanted you to start a conversation, but you’d never let him win.

At first, the Cardinal’s constant scrutiny had been unbearable, like a stifling weight pressing down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. His presence had been a constant reminder of your captivity, of just how at his mercy you truly were. But as the days stretched into weeks and the Cardinal’s routine became an unsettling rhythm in your life, something shifted within you. You found yourself growing accustomed to his gaze, almost welcoming it in a twisted sort of way. Not that you enjoyed it, by any means. Just that a routine was being established and the Cardinal became the only constant in your life. The only entertainment, too. And so, instead of shrinking away from his viewing, you began to meet his eyes head-on, a silent challenge in your gaze. You refused to cower under his oppressive stare, refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing you squirm. You found yourself seeing him in return, studying the lines of his face, the way his eyes glinted with a predatory gleam. There was a darkness lurking behind those mismatched orbs, a darkness that chilled you to the bone. But even as you studied him, a sense of defiance burned within you. You refused to let the Cardinal break you, refused to let him strip away your dignity and humanity. You were more than just a prisoner in a cage; you were a warrior, a survivor, and you would not be defeated so easily. Heaven couldn’t get you, neither could he.

So, you met the Cardinal’s gaze with steely determination, a silent reminder that despite his best efforts, you would not be broken. And as you stared back at him, you couldn’t help but wonder what secrets lay hidden behind those calculating eyes, what darkness lurked within the depths of his soul.

The Cardinal’s entrance into the room that night was accompanied by an air of smugness so thick you could practically taste it. His smirk was evident as he sauntered in, a book tucked under one arm and a glass of your blood held casually in the other, a smile so wide, you could see his fangs underneath the skin. You watched him with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity, wondering what had put that self-satisfied gleam in his eyes. It was rare to see him so openly pleased with himself, and it set your nerves on edge.

As he approached your cage, he made no attempt to hide his triumphant grin, relishing in the power he held over you. He settled into the red velvet armchair with an air of satisfaction, taking a leisurely sip from the glass of blood as if it were the finest vintage wine, because, to him, it was. His eyes flicked over to you, and you met his gaze with a steely resolve, refusing to let him see any hint of fear or weakness. “So, Angel,” he began, his voice dripping with arrogance, but his words slurred slightly from the drink, “I’ve been doing some reading lately. Did you know there’s a whole chapter in this book dedicated to angels like you?”

Your stomach twisted uneasily at the implications of his words, but you kept your expression carefully neutral, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“It seems there’s quite a lot I didn’t know about your kind,” he continued, his tone laced with malice. “But don’t worry, Angel. I plan on remedying that very soon.” With a chilling smile, he opened the book in his hands, his eyes gleaming with a dark intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “Do you know this book?”

You shook your head.

“It was written by Lorenzo Giovanni during the Renaissance, the last time an angel knowingly fell to Earth. A vampyre, like me. Spent most of his days studying the angel, finding out what makes you tick - turns out, he got pretty far. Unfortunately, his work was unfinished. A mob found out what he was and got to him in 1492, tied him up and let the Sun do all the work. But, do you know what he did find?” He didn’t wait for you to shake your head this time. He cleared his throat, and began to read aloud. As he began to read, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning of something far more sinister. “‘In celestial governance, once the manner is known, it is a simple matter. The heavenly messengers utilize the dread of the Almighty to manage their subordinates. However, those angels who have questioned the supremacy of the Lord are subject to the influences of their sacred radiance, the origin of which is their halo. Thus, one who attains an angel’s halo possesses the capability to command the entity, as well as the sacred radiance enveloping it.’ This we know, correct?”

You remained silent. So, the Cardinal continued, “‘This process assumes two guises: one to govern the physical form, the other to govern the intellect. To command the physical form, one must initially acquaint themselves with the name of the angel. As is observed with infernal entities, names possess a potency beyond human comprehension. Consequently, an angel bearing a name can readily relinquish control of their physical form merely by disclosing this fragment of information. Subduing the intellect, however, presents a greater challenge.’

“Basically,” he said, closing the book shut for dramatic affect, “I know your name, your body becomes mine.” He sighed, “Giovanni then goes onto say your mind is fully intact during this process, that you’ll feel your body moving but have no control over it.” He set his glass down on the dresser and walked towards your halo in its cage.

He grasped hold of it and you notice his hand was gloved, taking note of the care he was using to touch it. Your halo was just as dangerous to him as it was to you, but for different reasons. Without your halo, you were dead. Without your halo, you were controlled. For him, his skin would burn at the touch of it, like yours did with hellfire. For him, one wrong move and he would evaporate in the holy light. There was a part of you that wanted that to happen - wanted to see him perish in one of the most painful ways you had ever known. Yet there was an overpowering guilt that ate at you when you thought about it - knowing that the Almighty wanted you to love everyone, even at the detriment to yourself.

He took a step back and looked at you, smugness oozing from every pore. “I haven’t told Sister yet,” he mumbled, sitting back down on the chair. “I wanted to find out if it worked first. Tell me your name, Angel.”

“Thou must deem me a fool to willingly disclose such information.” You retorted, your voice barely above a whisper. Your mouth was dry.

He chuckled, a dark sound that shook you to your core. He nestled into the armchair, becoming comfortable in his throne of power. All of his movement was in his hips, lifting himself off the velvet to help him slide down it a little more, legs spread wide to exude his dominance. He was disgusting. “I thought you might say that,” he commented, his grin widening, “but you forget who I have.”

Thomas.

“You’ve experienced firsthand what I can do, Angel,” he continued, “except, I’ll make sure I’m much worse with him.”

“Thou would not.” You protested, trying to quell your panic. “The constabulary would be aware. Thou would be compelled to answer to the authorities.”

“I never said he’d survive.”

A chill ran down your spine. Your mind raced with fear and uncertainty as the Cardinal’s threat hung in the air like a dark cloud. Thomas was now in grave danger, and you were faced with an impossible choice. Would you sacrifice your own identity to save him, or would you stand firm and risk his life? You did know what the Cardinal could do - you’d been subjected to it since the moment you met him however long ago that was. You knew you could survive going through that again, especially if you had nothing to lose; but you couldn’t be sure about Thomas. He definitely didn’t deserve to feel the Cardinal’s wrath any more than he already may have. And could you live with yourself knowing you’d condemned a man to death just to save yourself, even if he did belong to the Satanic Church? By robbing him of his life, he’d never get the chance to return to God, to see the light and repent. You’d never get the chance to meet him again in Heaven. You’d rob him of his salvation, but you’d save yourself from the Cardinal’s damnation. Either way, you lost.

“If I divulge,” you began, puffing your chest to sound more confident and unafraid, “can thou ensure his well-being?”

The smugness faded from the Cardinal, if only for a moment. “Of course.” He responded, genuinely. “How else would I get you to do things I wanted?” He let the second sentence slip out, but paid it no mind once it had been released. He planned on using Thomas’ safety to continue to control you. You never should have let yourself get close to him - it allowed the Cardinal to win.

“And wilt thou demonstrate that he is unharmed? Wilt thou prove that thou speakest truthfully unto me?”

“I’ll get him to video chat you every week.”

You frowned, “I comprehend naught of thy words.”

“Video chat? FaceTime? Angels have no technology up there at all?” The Cardinal sighed at your blank expression and rummaged in his pocket to pull out the device you first saw him use. “This thing lets you have conversations with people that aren’t there with you. It shows you their face and hear their voice and, boom, conversation.”

“And thou wilt employ that contrivance to contact Tho- Brother Hayward?”

“Yes.”

You sighed. “___.”

“What?”

“My name. It is ___.”

“___.” The Cardinal nodded and set down the device next to his glass. He stood and unlocked your cage, before returning to his spot on the couch. He gently maneuvered your halo into the palm of his right hand, and brought it up to his mouth. “___, I command you to exit the cage.”

You laughed. You laughed at him. He lacked conviction which was why it failed, and it was so funny to watch him fumble. He cleared his throat, and now, with more confidence, repeated his order. Your body tingled in response, and despite you fighting it with great strength, your legs moved of their own accord. Your bare foot stepped out of the cage and onto the floor, barely feeling the textures beneath your feet. Your body ducked around the metal, wings tucked tightly to your body to stop any part of you from getting injured. Even under control, your body still did what it could to preserve itself. This was a new sensation to you, as you’d never been under someone else’s control before - you’d never needed to be because you were always a good soldier, even when you had your doubts. You’d never known anyone be subjected to this, either. Within seconds, you were out of the cage, standing in front of it with your wings outstretched. He hadn’t ordered you to stay still, to wait for the next instruction. But you did anyway, fearing that defiance would bring a painful end to Brother Thomas.

“___, I command you to spin on the spot.” The Cardinal ordered, a mischievous smile on his face and a glint in his eye.

When you did as he commanded, he laughed. It was a guttural laugh, hearty and jovial, clearly he was having fun with this. “Like a game of Capitan Giro. Capitan Giro dice stand on one leg.”

You did as commanded, and the Cardinal screamed in delight.

“Wait, I don’t need your name? I don’t need to be so formal? What if… put both feet to the floor.”

You did as commanded.

“Incredible. I wonder what else I could get you to do. How else I could humiliate you…” He stopped and thought for a moment, eyes darkening. “Come here.” This command was lower and deeper than the previous ones, quieter and somehow more intimate.

You fought against this command, but to no avail. Your feet, slowly, dragged you towards the Cardinal and only stopping when you were right in front of him, between his open legs. “On your knees.”

You obeyed. The whole time you made eye contact with him, staring daggers into his face and still hoping that the halo hurt him.

He held out his left hand, the one not holding the halo, and said, “Remove the glove.”

Your hands immediately sprung into action, grasping onto the hem of the leather and peeling it gently off of his hand, exposing the skin beneath.

“You know,” he grumbled as you pulled the final finger of his glove off him, “the Sister told me about you.”

He moved his hand to your face and tried to caress your cheek, but you moved away. “Come back, don’t fight me.” Slowly, you moved back to your original position, feeling your cheek meet his fingertips. His hand was large, taking up most of your face as he stroked it with such gentility, you weren’t entirely sure that this was the same man who had caused you great pain for so long. His thumb sat beside your nose, and gently stroked your skin.

“She told me about your purity,” he continued. “How you’re still the good angel Yhwh intended.” He dropped his voice to a whisper. “Open your mouth.”

You did. You opened it a small amount, but it was enough for him. He slotted his thumb inside and rubbed the pad over your tongue, as if he was studying your mouth. His knuckle, briefly, hit the tip of your small fangs - not enough to hurt him, but enough to have him fascinated by them.

“Suck on my finger.”

Your mouth closed around the digit in your mouth, lips stretching just a little over his skin, and you heard the Cardinal exhale a shaky breath. He watched the obscenity in front of him, how your cheeks hollowed around his thumb that he slowly began to move in and out of your mouth. His cheeks were flushed, partially because of your blood, but also because his own was rushing around his body, still pumping life into it despite his insides being almost dead. His pupils were blown, and his eyes were hooded, making him look a little crazy. His lips parted, and his breaths were laboured, chest rising and falling as though his lungs still worked - a force of habit, you thought.

You didn’t understand this - what he was doing. You’d never seen anyone do this before, but your mind was racing with possibilities. Perhaps he was testing your mouth, making sure your health was good. Or maybe it was some strange form of comfort for him, you pondered. Perhaps he found solace in this bizarre act, a fleeting moment of intimacy amidst the chaos of his life. As his thumb moved in and out of your mouth, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of unease mingled with curiosity.

You should bite down.

You couldn’t. Not that you weren’t trying, but you were under the influence of the halo. You just couldn’t get your teeth to clench around his thumb.

Despite your confusion, you continued to suck on his finger obediently, just as the Cardinal had ordered. You focused on the rhythm of his movements, trying to make sense of the strange sensation in your mouth.

“Cazzo.” He let out a whisper, barely audible but because of the quiet of the room, the humming of technology barely covered the sound.

As time passed, it couldn’t have been more than a minute, you couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort that gnawed at you. Yet, you dared not speak up, afraid to disrupt the fragile peace that enveloped the room. So you remained silent, your mind still racing with unanswered questions, as you obediently continued to suck on his finger.

Suddenly, the Cardinal’s eyes widened, a look of shock appearing on his face. He yanked his thumb from your mouth and physically pushed you away, grasping onto the halo a little tighter than he should have. “B-back in the cage.” He said quickly, standing up and walking over to your halo’s cage.

He didn’t need to use the halo to order you back behind bars, you were already scrambling to your feet and rushing to fit yourself in through the bars. He refused to make eye contact with you, noticing that he was feeling shame. Shame for what, you couldn’t say, but he spent most of the time staring at the floor as he locked you back inside. Your eyes wandered, too. From his face, over his body, until you saw the tent in his crotch every time he stood side-on. You weren’t completely foolish, you knew what that meant. You’d spent enough time with mortals, and saw a varying degree of sin that they would commit regularly. But you still couldn’t piece together the correlation between his finger in your mouth and the reason for his body’s reaction. He didn’t say a word, instead grabbing the glass and all but running out the door.

Perhaps you were feeling some of his shame now that you knew he’d used you to sin. He’d sinned with you before, every single time he caused you pain was sin enough, but this felt different somehow. Before, it was all the sins that were done to you; because of your implicitness due to the halo’s control, it felt like he was sinning with you. Shame, anger, and a deep sense of discomfort gnawed at your insides, making you feel vulnerable and exposed.

You had been subjected to a degrading and humiliating act, one that left you feeling powerless and violated. The Cardinal’s actions had stripped away your dignity and autonomy, reducing you to nothing more than a mere object for his pleasures.

Anger simmered within you, fueled by the injustice of being treated in such a deplorable manner. You resented the Cardinal for his blatant disregard for your dignity and for his abuse of power. How dare he manipulate and exploit you for his own perverse desires?

The deep sense of discomfort stemmed from the violation of your boundaries and the invasion of your personal space. His unwelcome advances had left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, as if your very essence had been laid bare for his scrutiny.

But then, the feeling dawned on you, was this not a similar way the Almighty had treated you? How He would get His subordinates to send you down to the mortal realm and commit atrocities on His behalf. In Egypt and Canaan, and even the shores of Italia, in His name you enacted awful things, bore witness to tragedies no person should ever see. While the Cardinal used you for some kind of sexual gratification, the Almighty used you for egotistical gratification, and either way, you were a pawn in someone else’s game, an object to be used at will regardless of your own opinions. You could never condone or justify the Cardinal’s behaviour towards you, but you’d also never had autonomy over your own person, so was it any different?

In some weird twist, you had come to realise that despite being trapped in a cage, your mind was freer than it ever had been in Heaven, your thoughts were your own, and your feelings went more-or-less unpunished. And in comparison, who was truly the Devil? Lucifer, or the Almighty?

The Cardinal didn’t come to visit you the next day, or the day after that, or the subsequent week that followed. He wouldn’t even come back to his chambers to rest, opting to spend his time elsewhere and avoiding you - an easy task, you were sure, given that he had kept you in the cage the whole time. You were unsure how to feel about this, whether this was something you should be grateful for, or if you should be afraid.

The longer you were around the vampyres, the more you’d begun to understand them and their ways; their thoughts and feelings, and what made them tick. Given that you’d not seen the Sister in so long, you could assume that the Cardinal hadn’t told her about his discovery. If he had, she’d have charged into his chambers, gripped hold of your halo, and practiced on you herself. Her insatiable thirst for power and control outweighed her thirst for your blood, and thus, if she knew your secret, you’d know too.

But then, why had the Cardinal kept that secret? Both he and the Sister wanted power, specifically power over you. They had been working together from the start to make sure they got what they wanted, your health and safety be damned. So why hadn’t the Cardinal told her everything? You pondered these questions in the silence of your cage, the only company being the dim glow of your halo, a sense of unease washing over you in more ways than one.

By the time you had healed completely, the Cardinal had returned with the empty bottles, but still found it difficult to look you in the eye. His gaze flickered with a mixture of guilt and apprehension, a silent acknowledgment of the unspeakable acts he had committed in his pursuit of power… or pleasure?

You watched him closely, noting the tension in his movements and the weariness etched into his features. Despite the disguise of indifference he attempted to show, you could sense the conflict raging within him, a storm of inconsistent emotions that threatened to consume him whole. He’d not rested well enough - you wondered if he’d even eaten properly. Then you wondered why you cared.

As he went about his task of arranging empty buckets around his bed, you remained silent, studying his every move with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. Why buckets, this time? There was an obvious shift in the air, a tension that hung between you, heavily shrouding you both an an intense suffocation.

With each passing moment, the weight of his silence grew heavier, a burden that bore down upon you with unbearable force. You longed to break the oppressive stillness, to confront him with the questions that burned in the depths of your soul, but you held your tongue, wary of the consequences of speaking out.

In the end, it was the Cardinal who broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper as he addressed you. “I won’t bind you when I let you out… I’m trusting you to be on your best behaviour.”

You simply nodded in response.

“No funny business, no trying to escape… no attacking, got it?”

“I shall not undertake such actions today,” you told him, “yet I offer no assurances for the morrow.”

He laughed as though you were telling him a joke. His laughter echoed through the chamber, a hollow sound that reverberated off the walls. Despite the tension that lingered between you, there was a sense of relief in his amusement, a fleeting moment of levity amidst the heavy atmosphere that surrounded you. “Well, I suppose that’s better than nothing,” he replied, his tone lightening slightly. “Just remember, Angel, I’m not afraid to put you back in that cage if you step out of line.”

You met his gaze with a steady stare, your eyes alight with a quiet defiance. “I understand,” you said, your voice firm and unwavering. “But mark this, Cardinal - I shall not be imprisoned anew, not without resistance.”

There was a flicker of something in his eyes, a spark of recognition that mirrored the fire that burned within your own soul. In that moment, you saw a glimmer of respect in his gaze, a grudging acknowledgment of your strength and determination.

“Very well,” he said, his voice tinged with resignation. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”

He moved towards your cage, unlocked and opened the door, and took a step back, still holding it as though he were a gentleman holding the door for his wife. With apprehension, you climbed out, wings cocooning your body again until you were completely free of the metal. You chanced a glance at your halo, which was still locked up tight in the cage, and somehow you felt relieved. You stretched your entire body out, wings included, grateful for the feeling. All the while, you still watched the Cardinal potter around the room until he invited you onto his bed again.

You hesitated until you saw the plea in his eyes. “What dost thou withhold from me, Cardinal?”

He shook his head, “If you don’t let me drain you now, things will end up worse for us both. Just do as I ask this one time, please.”

You regarded him with a mix of wariness and resignation, knowing that you had little choice but to comply with his request. With a heavy sigh, you moved towards the bed, your movements slow and deliberate as you approached him.

As you settled onto the plush mattress, you couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that settled over you like a heavy cloak. The Cardinal’s intentions were clear, his desire for your blood palpable in the air, and yet you found yourself unable to resist his command. You felt the first needle prick into the crook of your arm, and watched as your blood began to pour into the bucket. Then you saw him prick the second needle in, and the cycle repeat. Usually, the Cardinal would stand back and watch menacingly. But this time, he gently crawled onto the bed, lifted you up, and slotted you on top of him, so you were using his body as a pillow instead.

As the Cardinal cradled you in his arms, using his body as a makeshift pillow, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of discomfort wash over you. The intimacy of the gesture was unsettling, a stark contrast to the usual brutality of your interactions with him.

With each drop of blood that left your body, you felt a sense of vulnerability creep in, the realization dawning on you that you were completely at his mercy. Despite your instinctive urge to resist, you found yourself unable to muster the strength to pull away, trapped in a state of submission that left you feeling powerless and exposed.

You passed out, despite your body fighting it.

You were barely conscious when you woke, the needles still in your arms and the Cardinal still behind you. This time, you could feel his hands running up and down your biceps and stroking your hair, as if he was trying to comfort you. You wanted to recoil from his touch, to push him away and reclaim the boundaries he had violated so mercilessly more than once. And yet, a part of you couldn’t help but crave the warmth of his embrace, the fleeting sense of connection that offered a brief respite from the cold reality of your captivity.

Your body lost consciousness again, the last thing you felt were his fingertips tracing light patterns into your skin.

You roused from your uneasy slumber, disoriented and groggy, the memory of the Cardinal’s touch haunting your exposed flesh. As your senses slowly returned, you realized that the needles were no longer piercing your skin, their absence bringing a faint sense of relief amidst the lingering discomfort.

You looked around the room, heart heavy, seeking any sign of the Cardinal’s whereabouts, but all you saw was the empty space of his bed and the stifling silence that enveloped the room like a blanket. Feelings of fear and panic started to seethe at the borders of your mind as you struggled with the disconcerting realisation that you were alone in the room, and not trapped up in your cage where you’d normally be after such an extraction.

You strained to get yourself upright, your muscles protesting with each movement as you forced yourself to look around more closely. However, no matter how hard you looked, there was no sign of the Cardinal, no clue of where he had gone or what he was plotting next.

The sound of voices coming from the living room sent shivers down your spine, breaking the strange calm that had encased the Cardinal’s quarters. You strained your ears, nervously attempting to figure out who was talking and who was there.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened closely, the murmur of voices becoming louder and clearer with each passing instant. Their tones conveyed a sense of urgency, a palpable tension that appeared to linger in the air like a building storm.

For a tiny moment, you cherished the hope that Brother Thomas would return to liberate you from your captivity and deliver you from the Cardinal’s tyranny. But deep down, you understood that such dreams were nothing more than desperate illusions created out of your own sorrow.

One of the voices belonged to the Cardinal… the other… the Sister.

You strained to catch every word of the furious discussion between the Sister and the Cardinal, their voices rising and falling in a chaotic symphony of wrath and frustration. From your position in the bedroom, you could feel the tension crackling in the air like electricity, heavy and stifling.

The words they exchanged formed a bleak picture, indicating a flaw in their carefully crafted relationship. It became clear that the Cardinal had acted with purposeful intent by draining you of your blood before the full moon night, undermining their plans to perform the second ritual.

Confusion blurred your mind as you tried to make sense of the Cardinal’s strange choice to sabotage the ceremony. It didn’t make sense; why would he go to such extent to foil plans that he had personally set up? You felt lost and confused, as if the puzzle pieces would not fit together in your brain.

You couldn’t shake the notion that the Cardinal’s acts were more than just what they appeared to be. His intentions remained a mystery, and you couldn’t help but wonder what underlying agenda drove his betrayal. Was he behaving in his own self-interest, or was he motivated by something else that you couldn’t figure out? Or was there a deeper, more nefarious motive at work?

Prev. / Next

Anon commissioned artwork by @taylaedraws - I believe the full version is on their Patreon! Please be sure to check it out when you can!

[kokomyass]

OKK i thought of one

I was thinking a gojo fic for a change and reader is a new teacher at the school so he kinda shows her everything but the whole time he's being super flirty and stuff. YKWIM😭😭

Also second person (you/your)🧍🏾‍♀️I physically cannot read it any other way.

THANK UU BBY LOVE U LOADS😋

GURLLLLLL I LOVEEE THAT REQUEST AND SORRY IT TOOK AGES IVE BEEN SO BUSY....

LOVE YOU MORE BB 🥰🥰🥰

i hope you enjoy!!! (icl I'm half asleep)

Gojo Satoru ☆ The Ropes

Gojo x Fem!Reader Genre: ☁️ Word Count: 1014 Trigger Warnings ⚠️

synopsis: in which, our favourite flirtatious gojo satoru shows the newbie (you) around!!

Second Person POV

The morning sun spilled through the windows of what would be your new classroom, casting a warm glow on the empty desks arranged neatly in rows. Today marked the beginning of your journey as a teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High, and you couldn't wait to dive into the world of sorcery and education.

You has been born into a family of sorcerers and it had been your lifelong dream to teach and help influence younger students to pursue a life of sorcery. When you saw job positions released for Tokyo Jujutsu High, you couldn't help but immediately apply...especially when the famous Satoru Gojo was known to be a teacher there.

You saw Gojo as a role model, someone you wanted to impress....to live up to....

Just as you were organizing your lesson plans and looking at student profiles, the door swung open with a flourish, visibly shocking you as you let out a yelp, and in strolled Satoru Gojo, the infamous and irresistibly charismatic jujutsu sorcerer.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Gojo's voice rang out, his signature smirk evident even though his eyes were hidden behind his ever-present blindfold.

You couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness at his sudden appearance. "Oh! Uhhh...Good morning, Gojo-sensei," you greeted, trying to maintain your composure, being slightly astounded as to how handsome and undeniably attractive he was.

"Ah, you must be the new teacher, Y/N!! You certainly are a sight for sore eyes....I've been waiting to meet you," Gojo exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious as he sauntered over to you. "I'm here to show you the ropes, teach you the tricks, and maybe sprinkle in a little bit of charm along the way."

Your face flushed red as he placed a hand on your shoulder, putting you in close proximity considering you just met along with the extremely obvious flirting.

And so, your day began with THE Satoru Gojo as your guide, leading you through the labyrinth halls of the school and introducing you to the eccentric staff members.

It was rather shocking to you that not a single teacher had one good word to put in for Gojo no matter how much he begged.

Nanami encounter

"Gojo is indeed powerful....but I have no respect for him." Nanami stated folding his arms ignoring Gojo's presence.

"Oh...um-" you weren't sure what to say at all and whilst you were thinking about what to say, you have been dragged away by Gojo.

As you navigated the bustling corridors, Gojo regaled you with stories of his own misadventures during his time as a student, each tale more outrageous than the last. You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, feeling yourself relax in his presence despite the weight of your new responsibilities.

"Well Y/N, I've said enough about myself and my duties...what made a beautiful lady like you want to become a jujutsu sorcerer?" Gojo turned to look down at you as your eyes widened at his unexpected question.

You blushed at his compliment as you answered looking at him, "Well, I've always believed that being a sorcerer is so fun, and that we need to protect all of those who can't protect themselves...and being able to do that gived me a feeling that I can't describe."

You looked up to the sunset thinking about what you said as Gojo stayed silent looking into the distance. It was the first time foe the whole of the day that you had seen him so...quiet...

After a few more seconds of silence you heard his voice.

"I like that Y/N." he turned to you smiling as you turned back smiling at him too.

"Teaching at Tokyo Jujutsu High isn't just about imparting knowledge," Gojo explained as he demonstrated a particularly intricate spell. "It's about embracing the chaos, rolling with the punches, and maybe even pulling off a few flashy moves to keep the students on their toes."

You chuckled as the Gojo you had grown accustomed to had come back.

Throughout the day, Gojo's flirtatious remarks and playful teasing kept you on your toes, each interaction leaving you both flustered and entertained. But beneath his charming facade, you could sense a genuine desire to see you succeed in your new role, which made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

As the sun began to set and the day drew to a close, Gojo walked you to the school gates, his presence as electrifying as ever.

"Well, Y/N, it looks like our adventure together has come to an end," Gojo said with a dramatic flourish, his hand brushing against yours as he leaned in close. "But remember, if you ever need guidance, advice, or just someone to banter with, I'll be here, ready to lend a helping hand. Here is my number if you need anything."

With a wink and a smile, he disappeared into the shadows, leaving you with a renewed sense of confidence and a newfound appreciation for the magic of teaching at Tokyo Jujutsu High. And as you watched him go, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the unexpected mentorship of Satoru Gojo, the enigmatic jujutsu sorcerer with a heart of gold.

You look at the pice of paper he gave with his 'number' on it only to see not only his number but a little message saying.

'....and to go on a little date too... ;)'

lil extra!!

It had been a month or so since you started working at the school and it had also been a month since you were dating Gojo....and life never did have a dull moment....

"What do you see in that man. I thought I warned you."

You and Nanami were in the staffroom alone as you waited for Gojo to take you out on a date.

"Nanami....he isn't that bad you see he always buys me-"

Just as you were about to finish your sentence, Gojo burst in shouting.

"SWEETS!!" you smiled as he finished you sentence without knowing handing you your favourite sweets happily.

"See Nanami, that's why I love him "

dayum um tired as hell, will edit letter....I hope you enjoyed especially my favour gorgeous gal 💜💜😍💜💜😍💜💜

[mordeiswrld]

TMNT BAYVERSE! X FEM!READER (Platonic)

For @sadakorosee ☺️

Summary: Y/N is a close friend of the turtles. Suddenly she has an accident with the Foot. What happens when the 4 Terrapins find out?

Fic type: Oneshot

Admin: L

Time started: 11:33 AM JAN 31st

Warnings: Injuries, Violence, Blood, swearing

“And then Casey broke his hockey stick on Raph’s shell and Raph spent almost half an hour chasing him around the lair!” Mikey said as he cackled at the memory Leo and Donnie just smiling to themselves while they sat on April’s couch Leo reading and Donnie on his laptop but Raph just huffed in annoyance and rolled his eyes “he’s still not gettin’ off the hook, don’t get it twisted” Raph muttered as he continued to clean his sais. I just laugh along with Mikey “don’t hurt the poor guy! He’s harmless...mostly” i say as i pick up my phone and check the time. 1:28AM. Shit. “Ah shit, i gotta head home guys.” i say as i start to gather my things. “Do you need one of us to walk you home Y/N?” leo asked as he started to close his book. I just shook my head, “Nah im fine going on my own. My house isn’t that far from here. See you guys tommorow maybe?” i say as i start to walk towards the front door. “Hell yeah dudette! We’re still on for our Mortal Kombat match, and you better be ready this time.” Mikey says as he sits on the ciuch backwards just to look and point at me with a playfully serious look. I jokingly roll my eyes, “yeah yeah i’ll be ready...ready to kick your ass” i say confidently and i didnt wait for an answer as i unlock the door and walk out and close it behind me. I walk down the stairs from april’s apartment towards the garage that holds the other residents’ cars. As i make it towards my car something feels...off. It had suddenly gotten colder and eerie. I hesitantly brush that feeling off and hop inside my car and drive off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“PLEASE ME BABY, TURN AROUND AND JUST TEASE MEEEEE BABY YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT AND WHAT I NEEED BABY~” i sing my heart out to the radio station playing since it was weirdly quiet on the dark streets of New York. As I get ready to get to my turn i blink and somehow a Jet black Sedan appears starts to speed right towards me—Obviously driving on the wrong side of the road. “WHAT THE FUCK—” I say as i try to swerve out of the way but the car was too fast! My car made a loud screeching sound before....

BAM

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

‘My head is pounding...everything hurts so bad...what happened..?’ i think to myself as i slowly start to regain consiousness...i open my eyes and wince at the brighr light that’s above ny head. As ny grogginess starts to wear off a bit i realize my hands were tied to behind my back. “What the hell...?” i just barely rasp out...i must’ve been out for a while. “Oh good your finally awake” an animated voice came over some sort of...speaker? I couldn’t tell. I was in too much pain to care. “Who are you...what do you want.” i ask casually. “Ive watched way too many movies and i already know how this goes, you obviously want something from me whether it be information or some kind of salary” i continue. The animated voice is quiet for a moment before the person on the other side starts to laugh sinisterly. “You’re a smart one aren’t you? But we don’t want anything from you per se. We want to simply use you as bait” they said casually as if it was the most normal thing to say. Confused i tilt my head to the side “bait? For what?” i question not fully comprehending what they were saying “i thought yiu watched these kinds of movies before doll, maybe you arent as smart as you think you are babes” they say in a teasing tone “the turtles, we know your friends with them. So we’re gonna keep you for a while and lead them here so we can—well you don’t need to know all of that. We just need them here” they said as a hole in the floor appeared and a plate of bland food appeared then a mechanical hand with a fork tried to feed it to me. I refused and kept moving away. The voice sighed “we’re gonna be here for a looooong while my friend”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MIKEY’S POV

“AW COME ON THAT’S THE 5TH TIME IN A ROW MIKEY” Raph shouted as he threw his controller on the ground after losing another round of Mortal Kombat. I threw my head back and let out a loud laugh “THAT’S WHAT YOU GET FOR CHALLENGING THE MASTER” I boasted as I stood up to do a victory dance. “Whateva’ weren’t you n Y/N suppos to be havin’ some sort of match or somethin’” Raph questioned as he folded his arms over his chest and looked towards the lairs enterance. I gasped. I forgot! He quickly ran to my phone and called you it rang 4 times before inevitably going to voicemail so I tried 5 more times before long her inbox was full and I started to worry. Did she flake out on me? Did you forget too? Curious, i went into Donnie’s room where he was working up some concoction. “D-Man have you heard from Y/N anytime today?” i asked asked as i tried to message her instead, if she was unable to answer her phone. Donnie paused and checked his phone, “No, i haven’t heard from her. She would’ve said something if she was busy or something had come up” he said as he started to grt skeptical. “Hey guys, you might wanna look at this” Leo shouted from the living room. Once the brothers arrived they saw that the news was on and the reporter was at a car accident that happened not to far from April’s apartment. “so far no bodies have been found—” the reporter babbled on but none of the brothers listened much further as they soon got a call from the police Chief.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

3RD PERSON

“Oh good you guys made it” Chief Vincent said as she saw the 4 terrapins. “What happened” leo said, tone and face ice cold and stern. “There’s been a collision. No bodies were found though surprisingly. No one knows if anyone died or not.” she says as she gives them the pictures detectives have snapped prior to their arrival. Donnie and Leo look through them but Donnie stops on one photo “What is it Donnie?” Leo asks, Donnie hesitantly turns the photo over and shows the car that was completely totaled. “Is that...?” Leo asks, suddenly out of breathe. Donnie nods “seems like it. And from the evidence they managed to get, the black car hit her head on. And the camera footage cuts out before—” “wait did you say black car?” leo interrupts his purple clad brother who just nods his head “what model?” leo asks, blood now boiling. “They say it was a seda—oh fuck” Donnie says as he stops himself; finally realizing what’s going on. “RAPH, MIKEY, WE’RE ON THE MOVE” Leo shouted as all 4 brothers ran up to the roof where Donnie explained what had happened. “So your telling me, the foot crashed into her on the road and kindapped her?! What kinda bullshit?!!” Raph shouted as he looked around at his brothers in anger. Donnie gasped which brought attention to him, “what?” the 3 brothers asked in unison, “i hacked into her phone and got her loctaion shes in some sort of warehouse and it seems like they’re doing more than just kidnapping” he said as he put the audio on speaker. “Tell me where they are bitch, i won’t say it again. A deep voice shouted “I’m not telling you a goddamn thing. I’ll take this shit to the fucking grave if I have to, you ain’t getting a peep out of m–” they heard you say but before you could finish a sharp shriek filled their ear holes. “Im done waiting kill her off. Now” the unknown voiced boomed before Donnie’s connection went dead. “we gotta go. NOW” leo shouted. And with that the brothers quickly made their way to the foots hideout

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/N’S POV

I’m in so much pain...they’ve kicked me around, waterboarded me, stabbed me, anything you could think of. Just to make me talk, just to get me to spill. But i’m not letting up, not even if this is where my life ends im not saying shit. “So you still won’t talk huh?” the animated voice returned, they had lost their charming words,backhanded compliments and niceness now it was replaced with agitation and venom. “I never fucking will.” i spat back. Not out of confidence but out of loyalty to the brothers. They’re like my family. I’d never put them in danger even if it costs me my life. “Fine then. I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way” they shouted but it was muffled, probably from them gritting their teeth as they spoke, trying not to lash out on a monitor screen and not the real me. Suddenly 3 foot soliders come into my room and untie me but only to place their cold glover hands around my arms in a tight hold that may cause bruising later. We walk down many hallways, passing different doors with different signs and noises of pure agony. Then we went through a huge metal door that held the person behind the voice— a person in upgraded foot gear and shredder. “Finally. We meet in person” the person said as they place their hands on their hips and look at me with manic wide eyes. “Tie her to that pole.” shredder demands and the soliders obey and pull me towards the pole. As im getting tied up i see 4 figures pass by a window above us in my peripheral vision. A smile ghosts upon my lips but i instantly wipe it away, as to not alert shredder. “Now we will only say this one more time woman. Tell us where the turtles are or you’ll meet an untimely death” shredder bellows at me. I struggle to smile but i try to anyway and it comes out looking like a grimace. “I already told you....im not telling none of you a damn thing” I say breathlessly. Shredder growls in annoyance and snaps his fingers soon 2 soldiers and the more advanced soldier surround me one has a knife the other has a needle with some sort of glowing liquid ‘is that what mutagen looks like???’ i question myself but that random thought dies when i make eye contact with the AS (advanced solider) they were spinning the barrel to a loaded pistol..silently humming to themselves as they watched the solider with the knife jam it through the skin on my forearm “AH FUCK” I yell in pain. “Talk Woman or it’ll be more than just a stab.” shredder says as he watched from afar. I open my mouth but before i ciukd say anything 4 glass windows shatters around us and the 4 brothers start kicking ass! Leo and Raph take on Shredder like wild beasts while Mikey rains hell upon the 2 soldiers and Donnie takes on AS “Why did you guys HAVE to come at this time, we were just getting started” AS says as they pull out a double sides scythe and starts to attack Donnie. Donnie flawlessly but clumsily dodged all of her attacks and manages to hit the scythe out of her hand and knock her off her feet. “DONNIE KICK IT TO ME” i yell, Donnie hesitates before listening and shoving th weapon towards me. I squat down and carefully pick up the sharp part and start to cut through the rope they had me restrained in while trying not ro move my arm too much to no cause the knife to fall out. When i got free I immediately hobbled over towards a spot that was out of sight from the soldiers and shredder. I silently clutched the arm with the knife in it and applied pressure to it. After a while everyone was down and the turtles tie them up and wait for the police. I slowly crawl out from my hiding spot and search for Donnie. When i find him he’s looking at the needle one of the soliders had. “Donnie a little help please?” i ask as i hold up my stabbed arm. He turns his attention towards me and panics “ah shit um let me see what i have!” he says as he takes his backpack off and starts to frantically rummage through it. He takes out his med kit and starts to examine the wound. “Its gonna need stitches. I won’t be able to stitch it but when the paramedics and police come they can take you to the hospital.” TBC...

[somer-writes]

another month passes by

farewell to summer AND WELCOME FALL (fucking finally)

CAMPERS! START! YOUR! ENGINES!

it's time for.......

✨SOMERS DODECANNUAL MONTHLY BEATDOWN✨

september edition

SEPTEMBER 👏 WORD 👏 COUNT 👏: 50,058 WORDS TO Ao3

CURRENT 👏 WORD 👏 COUNT 👏: 927,728 WORDS ON Ao3

THE GOAL OF 1 MILLION IS WITHIN REACH!!!

(my mental health allowing)

WORKS (new/continued in September): 32!!!

MOST POPULAR: Memento Mori

IN REVIEW: ah september, the season of sickness. sicktember 2024 was a fun challenge! it was my fourth month long writing challenge completed in the past calendar year AND since joining this fandom. on top of the daily one-shots, we celebrated our dear and lovely @rebornofstars birthday this month! i wrote the boys having a spitting contest as a gift for bee! also, i continued Memento Mori, the sequel to Burial Rites (reader discretion advised)!

and speaking of burial rites! i used Barnes & Noble's publishing service to print a hard copy of my fic!

my father is reading it. pray for me.

UPDATES: i am was not planning on participating in whumptober 2024 as ive done 3 whump challenges in the last year! my brain could use a little breaksies. i might write for some of the prompts but we'll see! but fuck that i see prompts and i have a little cutesy chew toy blorbo who needs to be drawn and quartered out of love so fuck it

i will be using the AI-less prompt list for whumptober!

also! im finally free to participate in the @lu-community-write-a-thon starting 10/1 at 12 am PDT!

new works/chapters may be delayed whilst i handle some irl stuff, recharge, and play ECHOES OF WISDOM! im having such a fun time with it. old school zelda my beloved <3

ive also been playing pokemon violet and the new famicom detective game as of late. so many purple themed games.

i wish all of you a happy fall!

as always! ty so much for all the support!! i love reading all your comments, reblogs, tags, and whatever else! thank you everyone who reads, kudos, bookmarks, or comments on fics!! ily!!!

[alexanderlightweight]

Hello! I have been enjoying your posts immensely. I been reading your fics on AO3 and followed the link to Tumblr. If you don't mind, I would like to request more Competent Alec and Magnus with a dash of darkness. It doesn't really matter to me how you decide to write this but I really liked how you have been creating the worlds and ideas.

ah thank you! i enjoyed this verse a lot so i was happy to jump on it again and write more. i hope you enjoy <3 thank you for the compliments and trust

lumine

-

Mirai is competent, clear-headed and concise. Three things that Alec desperately needs in not only a second, but in someone other than himself. It’s with relief that he welcomes her to the Institute and in the time, it takes to settle her in, he has an appointment with the High Warlock of Brooklyn.

It’s faster than he expected but it’s also a relief, because he doesn’t think it’s a good idea to keep the mundane and knocked out underground while hooked up to IV’s. They’ve used runes to regulate the temperature, but it’s still not ideal and Kaleb has better uses than as a doorman.

—

Magnus isn’t sure how a mundane got through his wards and into the Institute, or why it had to happen now, of all times, but he accepts the offer.

And it is an offer, rather than a summons.  A generous compensation for his arrival, his consultation and his aid. Which is how requests are supposed to be made but is normally ignored.

Magnus portals to the Institute and is met by an antsy, exhausted hunter who greets him brusquely before showing him inside. 

The first thing Magnus hears is someone who is obviously in a position of authority berating another.

“Does it look like I have time for idiocy?” A tall, gorgeous shadowhunter is saying coolly to someone of clearly little significance.  His voice is low and calm, like ice running hundreds of feet deep and uncrackable. “There is no room in my Institute for insubordination, incompetence, or betrayal. If you’re fighting to stay because you don’t want to go to Idris, then apply elsewhere but you're gone come dawn. Other Institute’s may still accept you.”

Magnus smirks, because other Institutes are clearly not this man’s Institute.  A man Magnus is suddenly looking forward to meeting.

“Commander,” Magnus guide calls out, “High Warlock Bane is here to help with the mundane.”

Magnus’ shadowhunter turns, “Alec Lightwood—” he says, holding out a hand that would have fallen if Magnus didn’t catch it. Alexander’s fingers curl with his own and a smile threatens the edges of Alexander’s mouth, as if by accident.

“Hello darling, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Magnus tells him, eyeing him up and down hungrily and Alexander just nods agreeably, hand still in Magnus’ even as he’s giving his incredulous shadowhunters orders.

Several of them are slack-jawed and Magnus swears he sees one walk into a wall and two into each other. Considering how situationally aware shadowhunters are supposed to be, he can only consider that Alexander’s behavior is something of a shock.

Which makes something wake up deep inside of Magnus.

“The mundane?” He asks, because that’s the most important thing and a young woman steps up. Her brown eyes are exhausted, but she looks determined, and Alexander is watching her with wary pride and an almost curious hope.

It’s explained to him quickly and Magnus learns of Jocelyn’s fate, and he hoards away his own knowledge of the situation and pretends it’s all new.

“So, the mundane tracked her phone, but doesn’t have any true knowledge of the shadowworld?” Magnus asks, delighted by their show of competence despite being blindsided, “incredible.” He murmurs and he admires Alexander’s biceps as he says it, unable to help himself.

There’s a cough and Alexander’s second — a new addition from what Magnus has overheard — give him a tired but amused look.

“It’s only his interest in this building that we want to take away. Perhaps implant an idea that his friend is being taken care of. Or that she’s safe?”

Magnus hums thoughtfully and then nods, “that will be easy enough.”

“And the price?” Someone pipes up and then there is a shocked wheeze.  Magnus felt no danger, but he smells the scent of fresh copper pennies, and he smirks as he looks over to a blushing but otherwise stoic Alexander.

“That will be discussed after the job is finished.” Alexander says calmly and if Magnus couldn’t see how pink his cheeks are, he would think him innocent of being involved.

-

“Kaleb, you’re relieved from duty.” Alexander tells his hunter and Magnus is amused, wondering if Alexander means to let Magnus be alone as a sign of trust.  And then Alexander is stepping down into the crypt and reaching his hand up, looking sincerely up at Magnus and murmuring, “watch your step, it’s steep.”

And Magnus falls.

Metaphorically, because even if he’d tripped or swooned Alexander would have caught him.

But he falls, because Alexander is competent and sweet and he’s everything that Magnus wants, and Magnus is going to find a way to keep him.

It’s easy to take the child’s memories and even easier to change it so that he won’t focus on his friend’s disappearance so much.  Then Magnus pulls back, and he smiles at Alexander.

“Can I name my price now?” Magnus asks, truly curious and Alexander nods, head cocked to the side but gaze steady and surprisingly trusting.

“I want you, darling. Any way I can have you. What will you let me have?” Magnus knows to be bold, because this is the only chance like this he’s going to get and Alexander is too high of a rank and competent of a leader for Magnus to just take him.

Alexander makes a considering noise and then Magnus is shuddering, because Alexander is on his knees, looking up at Magnus through his lashes.

“I can think of a few things.” Alexander murmurs and presses a kiss to the seam of Magnus’ pants before he rises, the pink higher on his ears and neck but something stubborn in his gaze. “But—” and his voice darkens with disdain, “not here.” Magnus follows his gaze to the mundane and grimaces in agreement.

“Agreed.” Magnus snaps his fingers and unhooks the IV’s, healing the marks before he portals the mundane to somewhere he’ll be found at a reasonable time. “There, like he was never here.”

Alexander looks at him with such relief and awe that for a moment, Magnus is tempted to try and convince him to get back on his knees. Except then someone is calling for their commander and Magnus has to quietly seethe as his Alexander goes cooler and colder the longer he’s turned away from Magnus.

“Alexander.” He calls, because he needs to know how deep it goes both ways and Alexander’s head snaps around, his eyes finding Magnus�� immediately.

“What do you need?”

Magnus is asked and it’s like the world doesn’t exist beyond him, even though he’s aware Alexander’s still listening to the chatter around them.

“Just you, when you’re ready.” Magnus reminds him and winks, stepping back and preparing to leave. Alexander will find him when he’s ready and Magnus has no doubt that it won’t take long, not when his boy is equally eager.

[spocks-husband]

our continuum (enforced infinity). [spirk; Spock is a Q AU]

Words: 2,308

Rating: Teen and Up

Pairing: S'chn T'gai Spock/James T. Kirk

Genre/Tropes: Obsessive Spock, Mild Yandere Content, Mild Blood, Mild Gore, Canon-Typical Violence

AU Details: Spock is masquerading as the science officer of the USS Enterprise when, in actuality, he's a Q with a slight obsession with a certain Starship Captain.

Notes: After several long weeks of waiting, It's finally here! I've completed my Spock Is A Q AU fic-- possibly the first of several depending on how you guys like this one. You all seem like you've been really excited, though, so here it is! Enjoy mes amis <3

Spock, as he was known here, frequently asked himself why he did all of this. Why he continued doing all of this. What was the point? Was there a point? Pretending to be a Human-Vulcan Hybrid Science Officer aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise for its five-year mission? Altering the memories of his 'fellow crewmates' to ensure they never questioned his presence, that they remembered him being there all the while (not a difficult thing to do, of course, human minds were rather malleable, but it was a somewhat tedious process with a crew of over four-hundred of the insectoid specimens inhabiting the ship)? Spending his time as an immortal, omnipotent being playing pretend amongst creatures he could crush with a wave of his hand if he so wished? Why interest himself in such things? Observing these curious, mortal children parading about their minuscule galaxy, gaping in awe at other creatures of insignificance that they found marginally different from themselves-- it was entirely ridiculous. He could be off, creating new worlds, destroying old ones, exerting his power in whatever marvelous, benevolent way he chose-- yet, instead, here he was, hunched over a primitive console on the bridge of a useless, aluminum-can spacecraft examining readings of lifeforms and planets that he could have killed in his sleep. 

Why?

"Keptin on the bridge!" Ensign Chekov's thick yet boyish Moscovian voice announced to the other members of their bridge crew with an audible grin. Spock found himself sitting up from his examination instinctually to see.

Hazel eyes, golden hair, and that farmboy build stepped off the turbolift with his classic, charming smile and a witty comment that didn't really register in Spock's mind.

Ah. Yes. That was why he was doing all this. 

James Tiberius Kirk, Spock had found, was something out of a Terran romance novel. Of course, being a Q, romance and sex weren't exactly his highest concerns, but in the form he'd currently taken it was undoubtedly of some interest. An amusement, at least. A way to spend his eternity. Besides, he'd grown oddly... attached... to this little starship captain. Who was it, that other Q he'd once known, who said that even God's had favorites? It had been a while-- that particular figure had pranced off into some future timeline for his own mortal amusements-- but nonetheless, he thought of that quote often, and James was certainly one of Spock's. 

"Status report, Mr. Sulu?"

"Approaching the Gas Giant Cythia IV. No signs of life, but some resources of interest," Hikaru answered the captain neutrally, sounding almost bored with that day's assignment. "The survey should be quick. From the looks of it, there isn't much to survey anyway. Atmosphere seems breathable for humans-- and Vulcans-- albeit a bit thin."

"Some microbial life," Spock corrected with a glance at Jim, choosing not to comment on Sulu's mention to him lest he say something incriminating. He'd been good about that thus far, no need to raise suspicion now. "But nothing of significance, and no signs of intelligent life or civilization, developed or not."

"No communications or signals coming in from the planet's surface, Captain," Uhura added. "I concur with Mr. Sulu and Mr. Spock. There isn't much here to look at."

Jim nodded, swinging his legs over the side of his command chair casually as he looked out the viewscreen. "Well, we have our orders to make a short geological and biological survey to report to the nearby inhabited planets-- and I don't think any of us are willing to face a dishonorable discharge because we don't feel like looking around a hunk of space rock for a bit, do we?" There was a short chuckle that sounded about the bridge. "Suggestions for our away team, Mr. Spock?" 

The Q fought a smile, turning away from the captain momentarily. "Our usual procedure should suffice," he replied. "Myself, yourself, Doctor McCoy, and a few crewmen from Biology and Security."

Jim nodded. "Sounds good to me," he replied casually, sending a comm down to engineering to alert Scotty to prepare the transporter for a party of seven.

A cool sixty degrees, a greenish-yellow sky, and a rocky, mountainous horizon-- the planet was actually quite nice, although uninhabited from what they could see. 

The Q could sense otherwise, but they didn't need to know that. Let the little creatures learn on their own. 

Spock kept his eyes on his tricorder, but his mind remained close to James. The young ensign from biology and the two redshirt security men lingered behind, all of them clearly not used to joining away missions. The sensation of being watched was one that the human body was not as sensitive to as they often liked to claim, and in glancing about the younger members of their team he knew they had no clue what was coming for them. It was rather amusing, honestly.

Lurking just beneath the surface of this planet, Spock could feel the vibrations of massive, incredible movement. A consistent, violent shaking-- it was clear as day to him. Of course, he wouldn't be certain until he saw it himself, but he suspected the creature was some sort of massive bloodworm; some kind of gargantuan, insectoid predator with a basic level of primal intelligence but nothing further. Interesting, he supposed. Fascinating, even.

Still, he suspected their standard pattern of occurrence would produce itself; the security officers would most likely die quick, irrelevant deaths, perhaps the Biologist would join them, Jim might end up with some mild, mostly superficial wound that Doctor McCoy would begrudgingly heal once they'd returned to the ship. It was perhaps a cruel cycle that they followed, one that Spock could end with a flick of his wrist if he so chose... but he wouldn't. 

Where was the fun in that? 

It wasn't until far too late, though, that Spock's eyes widened just slightly in the dawning realization that he hadn't accounted for one particularly... irritating... additional factor: Jim's rather vexing altruistic tendencies. 

Since the moment the ensign from Biology-- Winnie Peterson, he believed her name was-- had joined their party in the transporter room, Jim had gotten that... glimmer... in his eyes that was unfortunately common. James had found Winnie... pretty. The thought made the Q's stomach turn, though he wasn't certain as to exactly why that was. He tried not to think about it. In any case, though, Winnie and Jim had spent every moment of the mission thus far casually flirting, her big blue eyes flickering over his uniform every once in a while. Spock frowned. He would be glad to see the predator take its midday meal with her. He didn't even mind that he would have to comfort Jim's silly, human emotions afterward. No, he didn't mind that at all. 

As if qued by that very thought, the colossal, sandy-colored beast tunneled its way to the surface with a brilliant screech, its gaping mouth lined with thousands of teeth.

Spock smirked slightly as the rest of their crew screamed in terror-- but as he ran to join Jim in finding cover, the captain was not where he had been moments before. His eyes widened as he whipped around just in time to watch James throw himself in front of Winnie as the beast attacked her. 

The world seemed to go black. 

Had it sped up?

Slowed down?

Was the concept of time even a true one? 

He supposed it wasn't-- he was a Q after all-- nothing was real if he didn't want it to be. 

Nothing...

Nothing was real...

Nothing... was real...

...

...

...

When he came to his senses, the universe had never felt so quiet, and despite the exhibit of massive power he'd just displayed, Spock had never felt weaker. 

He looked around. 

The bloodworm lay dead on the ground a surprising distance from where it seemed to have first arrived on the surface. Grayish, blue entrails poured from it's torn abdomen, and the vague forms of dead security men could be seen within. Winnie was, thankfully, quite dead as well. Had he done that? She was too bloodied to tell exactly what had done it without closer examination, and Spock found he really didn't care enough to investigate. Her once blue uniform was now dyed a sickly plum color with blood, and her hair sprawled out across the ground as she lay there, face down, unmoving. Not far from her lay Doctor McCoy, also bloodied and unmoving. Spock frowned slightly at this development, he knew that particular loss would be quite upsetting to Jim, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. 

Yet, that begged the question...

Where was James Tiberius? 

Spock glanced around, noting the blood and destruction scattered about the area, but it quickly dawned on him that he couldn't find Jim. Each moment that passed made him more restless to locate his human partner-- and suddenly he found himself in the air, speeding through the sky in a frantic search for wherever he could be. Typically, he would just snap his finger and find himself appearing beside whomever he wished, but something in his mind was... frantic. Animalistic. Primal. He couldn't think straight-- logically as his strange masquerade character would have put it. It simply wasn't an option anymore. 

In time-- hours, days, he wasn't sure, nor did he particularly care-- Spock found Jim, bleeding and pale, hidden in the dark recesses of a rocky cave. The human man was weak, dying-- and as he stared up at the ceiling of the cavern Spock felt a strange pity rise in his chest. Something like caring. Something like love. 

It was an easy enough job to heal Jim's mortal wounds, merely a flick of his wrist and it was as if he'd never been harmed at all. Slowly, James seemed to regain himself, sitting up slowly as the color returned to his face. Slowly, each movement sending subtle jolts of pain through his sore muscles, the human man turned to look at Spock. For a brief moment, there was something like relief in his eyes, something like love, familiarity-- almost the same way Spock had felt when he'd seen Jim for the first time only moments before-- but it faded quickly into... fear. Horrible, tremendous fear. Frantic, sloppy movements led Jim to crawl backward, backing away from the still-floating figure at the mouth of the cave as if he were a wild beast. 

"S-stand back," Jim commanded, his voice loud, yet still quite shaky. "Don't come any closer...!" 

"Jim," Spock frowned, slowly lowering himself to the ground and stepping toward the quivering man at his feet. "I mean you no harm. You know that." 

"Oh? Do I?!" Jim sneered, suddenly rather angry. "You... I don't know what you are or what you've done with Spock-- but you are the farthest thing from harmless and we both know it."

There was a pause before, slowly, Spock began to laugh. 

"What I've done with Spock?" He repeated incredulously, raising a brow curiously. "I am Spock. S'chn T'gai Spock-- your... T'hy'la? Surely you haven't forgotten me so quickly?" 

"... No..." Jim refused quietly, slowly rising to his feet. He reached for his phaser-- only to find nothing in his belt, and swearing quietly. "Spock... My Spock... he wouldn't do this..." 

"Wouldn't he? You just saw it, after all--"

"You killed them!!" Jim snapped. "You killed Bones, you killed Winnie-- You... You are not the man I've spent all this time with. You can't be." 

"You're being ridiculous, James," Spock's face darkened, a subtle malicious glint rising in his eyes. "You and I have been together all these years... We've been quite... intimate... Why now do you decide I disgust you? Hm?"

"You killed my best friend!!"  The human sobbed. "You... Killed him!! He was our friend, Spock!! I don't give a damn what you and I are-- you are a murderer!!" 

There was a pause that hung heavy in the air. Spock was quiet. Jim's only sound was the soft gasps for breath as tears poured down his face. For a long moment, Jim wondered if anything would happen. Would he be killed? Would... Spock... turn around and leave? 

Jim opened his mouth to speak, though he wasn't sure what he would say-- but before he could, he noticed that... something wasn't right. What was it? He glanced around. The floor of the cave was still arid and cold, its ceiling dripping with sharpened stalactites. The sky outside--

Oh. 

There was no sky outside. 

No landscape at all, in fact. 

It was just... emptiness. The blackened chasm of space. Something Jim had known nearly all his adult life, yet something that now felt so unnervingly foreign it made his stomach churn. 

"...What did you do...?" He spoke the question quietly, like a prayer. Spock smiled softly in response, stepping forward and gently taking Jim's face in his hands, holding him as if he were made from glass.

"Nothing to concern yourself with, Captain," He replied gently. "This is for the better. The others... distracted you. They do not-- pardon, did not-- understand you the way I do. I am an all-powerful being. The universe bends to my command, my every whim-- and at the moment, I command it to give me you. It is... fate. Destiny. Enforced, perhaps, but still destiny all the same."

There was a long, tense pause. Jim felt his chest swell with something between love and terror, something between the adoration and pining he'd felt for this man with whom he had a relationship he'd never put a proper name to and the overwhelming, eldrich terror of knowing that the creature in front of him, that was touching him, could crush him like an ant. 

Jim took a deep breath.

"... What are you...?" 

Spock laughed quietly. 

"I'm yours, of course, what else would I be?"

[sunshinechay]

The way my mind connects the dots with 0 hesitation is hilarious. I could be seeing something like "Omg Michael is SO hot, looks so good with his hair like that, my little meow meow!" and Im like "ya Michael-

Seater?

Cera??

Myers!

from the group chat??!!!???

Really be like that (I barely care about any of those people, my brain will just pick at random), wild to see this post in the wild tho, its been years since I saw fans of (pick your fighter).

Only to find out OP is talking about a totally unrelated Michael from something I've never heard of, but its too late, ive already connected the dots in such a hilarious way, I gotta reblog now. But im collecting the new Michael for another similar situation if this ever comes up again.

I remember in high school we had this classmate named John Oliver and for the life of me, I couldn't understand that my friends were talking about John Oliver the tv host. They'd sit there saying the wildest shit like "Did you hear what insane shit John Oliver did last week?" and for a whole 5 seconds I'd be SO concerned about our mutual classmate only to be told this is about some random dude I don't know or watch (back then) and suddenly the world made a LOT more sense. But for those 5 seconds my mind created real terror and I just had to know what kind of sitcom life my classmate was living every fucking week.

So anyways, if you're always wondering why i keep re-blogging posts about your favs with the dumbest tags, its because I keep re-living Last Week with John Oliver time loop with you😭.

I don't even read your url, im just scrolling fast and every time im like "wait Effy slow down, this made no sense, dont just accept that" I look at the url and you're talking about some whole other guy.

Like I really saw your post and went "ah the creepy pasta girlies from 2012 breached containment and hit my dash again...ya...i'll reblog" and it was literally NOT about that Jeff at all.

I need an option to highlight your username in big and bold so my brain understands that your favs and my brain has 0 overlap and idk any of those people. This keeps happening with just you on my dash and no one else. I remembering struggling with my life, during your vegas era (of vegaspete of kinnporshe). Like this is NOT about Las Vegas at all, but if you asked me what my brain ran off with in those 5 seconds, if left unchecked, you'd understand why I love having you in my dash so much. Scrolling super fast on tumblr with you on my dash is just briefly time traveling to another universe istg.

Plus sometimes I do end up watching what you watch like kinnporshe so thats just a bonus.

Glad I could help! Haha

And don’t worry, my brain frequently does this kind of thing as well. Our brains recognize patterns and make connection only it seems our make connections where there are none, but that’s half the fun. Sometimes I laugh at where my own brain takes me.

I saw your tags on the Jeff posts and laughed because omg can you imagine Jeff the Killer reading his own fanfiction 😂😂😂

However, it’s Jeff Satur we’re talking about and honestly the fact he has read fanfiction about himself is both funny and horrifying like “I’m so sorry you had to witness this Jeff…would like some recs for other fics about you?” 😂😂😂

I’m glad that you have liked the BLs you’ve watched. They’re really just something else, in both good ways and bad and I love them so much. So I’m happy I can spread the joy :)

[light-lanterne]

hello !! so, a lovely anon has sent me the most wondrous ask analysing (from a byler perspective) the lyrics from an album that came out on friday night, the likes of which is by my current favourite band (and hyperfixation). unfortunately, my reply was getting ridiculously long, so i shall screenshot the different parts of this ask and add them to this post instead ~

needless to say, i'll also be connecting these beautiful lyrics to byler :O many an au idea has spawned from me listening to this album a few times over, so there's that too. if you're a byler who've never even heard of this band, i highly suggest you check them out; some of their songs are very heavy, others are not and may even be considered pop. regardless of the music, all the lyrics are wonderful and they're definitely worth a listen.

anyway, let us begin !!

— sleep token —

take me back to eden

okei, so for the "simple" question: i don't know which is my favourite new release, they're all just so good :( maybe 'ascensionism', for it's the one that's been stuck in my head all day x.x but really, they're all perfection and if these guys don't get a grammy or five i'll be very mad >:(

anyway, you said you were joking but i'm actually buzzing with excitement at the prospect of analysing the whole thing so here we go ~

first, the singles (i'll be as brief as possible):

i. chokehold: ah,,, the perfect start of the album. i think the song is mostly about vessel's devotion to sleep, but these lyrics really feel like s1 mike to me :O - - - - - - - - - - - beneath the stormy seas, above the mountain peaks, it's all the same to me, it makes no difference. i've seen my days unfold, done the impossible. i'll turn my walls to gold to bring you home again. - - - - - - - - - - - yeah,,, just the disposition to do anything and defeat all obstacles in order to literally "bring [this person] home again" really reminded me of mike :]

ii. the summoning: such an exquisite single,,, really the best song to pull people in~ needless to say, the bridge brings a really neat dynamic that would work really well in an aged-up fic, i think. - - - - - - - - - - - oh, and my love. did i mistake you for a sign from god? or are you really here to cast me off? or maybe just to turn me on? 'cause these days i would be lying if i told you that i didn't wish that i could be your man, or maybe make a good [boy] bad. - - - - - - - - - - - maybe the classic good student will/rebellious mike? something like that :D

iii. granite: this was my favourite single !! it's dark and moody and it paints a sad but somewhat beautiful picture :O from the lyrics this is about a dysfunctional relationship and codependency, so it doesn't quite fit canon byler :S an au, however,,, - - - - - - - - - - - i was more than just a body in your passenger seat, and you were more than just somebody i was destined to meet, i see you go half-blind when you're looking at me. but i am. between the second-hand smoke and the glass on the street, you gave me nothing whatsoever but a reason to leave, you say you want me, but you know i'm not what you need. but i am. - - - - - - - - - - - ,,,yeah. messy queer relationships can be fun to write and read and this one paints a very interesting scenario ~ when i first heard it, i immediately associated it with my serial killer au :D

iv. aqua regia: this one is such a vibe ~ i originally didn't care much for it, tbh, and it took me a while to get the metaphors x.x but once i got it i really started liking the song a lot more ! - - - - - - - - - - - aqua regia, (< gold refiner; vessel describes himself as gold before) oxytocin running in the ether. (< the ether would be the internet,,,) silicon ballrooms, (< silicon is a main component of electronics, so instead of social gatherings happening in an actual ballroom, they happen on the phone) subatomic interactions if it's all good. - - - - - - - - - - - so yeah, my understanding is that the main character in this song is someone who resists technology, but stops trying to fight it once they meet someone they feel something for online which is quite lovely ~ also, these lines are so cute: - - - - - - - - - - - oh, when i am done dancing to alarm bells no wonder my ears are still ringing. - - - - - - - - - - - (just imagine vessel bouncing around all excited about getting a message from this person :D ) anyway, um, modern byler au where mike is an anti-technology nerd who finally gets himself a phone just so that maybe he can talk to this really cute, semi-instagram-popular guy he likes from one of his lectures ^-^

v. vore: um,,, yeah,,, as someone who leans towards heavier music i love this song so so much !! the themes of obsession are amazing and really build on the concepts brought up in "this place will become your tomb", so that's a nice callback :O needless to say, there's not much bylering going on here but the vibe really goes well with aforementioned serial killer au, so there's that x.x

ix. dywtylm: aha, last single ! i must admit, i also didn't care for it a lot when i first heard it but, within the context of the album, it's a great break between "the apparition" and the final part of the record ~ so, i think i'd mentioned this before (?) but i can't remember,,, anyway, the lyrics scream mike at me ~ - - - - - - - - - - - and my reflection just won't smile back at me like i know it should. and i would turn into a stranger in an instant if i could. and there is something eating me alive, i don’t know what it is. maybe not that you conceal your feelings, they just don't exist. - - - - - - - - - - - also these: - - - - - - - - - - - and i've tried so hard to fix it all but nothing seems to help, but i cannot hope to give you what i cannot give myself. - - - - - - - - - - - yeah, canon mike's insecurities, guilt and confusion really reflect on those lyrics :( if i were to write something around this, it'd probably be a post m*leven break-up thing where mike is unsure if he has a chance with will, so they’re both just dancing around each other,,,

anyway, there's the singles !! now onto the new songs :D

vi. ascensionism: my absolute favourite song of the album ;-; there's something about fun genre-merging that really tickles my brain ~ i can't say i get the lyrics as much as the other songs, but from what i get it's about a relationship that's gone awry and both parts know they need to break up, but neither one wants to do it :( (there's also some stuff about a pseudo-religion called "ascensionism" and from what i get, it would imply that our main character believes they deserve this because of something they did in a previous life, so by accepting this, they will be able to ascend,,, or something like that x.x again, i don't quite get it just yet.) anyway, as much as i like this song i can't really connect it to byler ;-; maybe an exes fic, where they reflect on their fallout ? i don't do well with those, unfortunately x.x

vii. are you really okay?: this song is so pretty and sad :( i actually quite liked it !! it doesn't sound like anything from the soundtrack, i don't think, but it reminded me of my favourite film ever ("the crow") ~ the 90s vibes are delightful and it really gave me a feel of nostalgia that only added on to the emotion ;-; now, out of all the lyrics i'd say these are the most straightforward so i don't think i need to say what this is about :( and it's not quite the same, but i heard this part and had an idea for a short fic: - - - - - - - - - - - and i, i cannot fix your wounds this time. but i, i don't believe you when you tell me you are fine. please don't hurt yourself again. - - - - - - - - - - - picture this: during the confrontation about the painting, mike finds out about everything will has sacrificed to help him be happy so he tries to comfort him.

viii. the apparition: ah, this song feels so short :( it's very pretty though, all about vessel's troubled relationship with sleep ~ indeed, those lyrics you mentioned do feel very byler coded :O maybe their feelings between s3 and s4, when both of them were mourning their perceived lost connection (which they could've solved with a single phone call, but alas,,,) ? something like that ~ as for the dream stuff, i can definitely see will yelling this at vecna, once he's fed-up with the nightmares and being messed with and all that: - - - - - - - - - - - just let me go or take me with you. - - - - - - - - - - - granted, vessel's relationship with sleep is more of devotion than hatred (as reflected by the rest of the lyrics), but that particularly line gave me that visual :O i propose an alternative to the vecna interpretation, though: - - - - - - - - - - - why are you never real? whenever you appear you leave me with that grace, i am trembling with fear. but i know that you will disappear, just as i awake. whisper in my ear. - - - - - - - - - - - imagine that will's been taken by vecna (slipped into a coma or something of such nature) and he communicates with mike through his dreams :] that could be interesting, i think ~

x. rain: woo, byler-coded song !! those verses you wrote definitely feel like them, maybe once they get their stuff together and they accept that they can achieve happiness with each other ;-; i also love the references to other songs ~ part of the chorus feels a lot like "atlantic", there was a callback to "aqua regia" (something about 'saturate'), the 'game' part of the lyrics might be tied to "blood sport",,, i really like it !! the music is amazing and i can proudly inform you that listening to this as it rains around you is a wonderful experience ~ i have nothing more to add to your analysis n_n so, for a fic, i'd write about the direct moment after they defeat vecna and everything is done, with them running into each other's arms and just being happy to have each other, fully, at last.

xi. take me back to eden: the title track,,, an absolute masterpiece ;-; it's got everything musically, the most amazing breakdown, and it really is the perfect song to explain who they are :( and vessel's lyrics,,, "i dream in phosphorescence",,, who thinks of that ? x.x he's by far one of the best lyricists i know >.< the references to previous releases are so cool, too: - the ocean references are a call back to "tpwbyt" - the second verse alludes to "nazareth" (my favourite song) - the biting stuff is from "the offering" - shakespeare's "the merchant of venice" gets quoted - and of course, the first verse from "chokehold" is repeated to round the whole thing up :O ah, amazing,,, anyway, about the lyrics you shared,,,, yes. to all that ~ perfect interpretation <3 the chorus itself can be very byler, too: - - - - - - - - - - - my, my, those eyes like fire, i'm a winged insect, you're a funeral pyre. come now, bite through these wires, i'm a waking hell and the gods grow tired. reset my patient violence along both lines of a pathway higher, grow back your sharpest teeth, you know my desire. - - - - - - - - - - - from mike's pov, he knows he's attracted to will and he perceives that acting on those feelings is dangerous (he's a moth to a flame), but at some point he's tired of being miserable and wants to confront this. it also works from will's pov, with him having already (unknowingly) been hurt by mike and he's tired of hurting, but he can't seem to back away. ,,,i think it works, but you tell me ~ overall, the song really reflects a longing for an innocence lost and we all know mike, will and the entire party can resonate with that :(

xii. euclid: the perfect outro to the album (and the trilogy) !! such a gorgeous piece with one too many musical and lyrical references to other songs to list x.x with the way it ties back to "the night does not belong to god" (first song in sundowning), it really feels like closing a chapter and i can't pretend it didn't make me cry ;-; (i wonder if the song is called euclid because he was the father of geometry, and this song turns the trilogy into a circle,,,) anyway, i haven't got much more to say than what you've already mentioned,,, these lyrics have been gorgeous since the original song,,, - - - - - - - - - - - the whites of your eyes turn black in the lowlight. in turning divine we tangle endlessly, like lovers entwined. - - - - - - - - - - - and these ones (which you already mentioned but i want to repeat because they gave me chills with how pretty they are) really encapsulate byler, i think - - - - - - - - - - - do you remember me when the rain gathers? and do you still believe that nothing else matters? for me it's still the autumn leaves, these ancient canopies that we used to lay beneath. - - - - - - - - - - - yeah,,, i've got nothing more to say,,,

anyway,,, thank you for this wonderful ask and for letting me ramble about this beautiful band and these beautiful lyrics and connect it all to the other thing i love !! sorry it took me days to get through this, i needed some time to digest the whole album ;-; hope you liked my insight (?) and the fic ideas and stuff i mentioned !!

for now, i think it's about time i wrap this ridiculously long post up x.x to whoever is reading this, i really hope you're having the best day or night ever, and that you enjoyed reading my nonsense ~ i'll see about writing some of the fics i mentioned in this post, but it will (obviously) take me a bit x.x

farewell for now !! <3

[carmenlire]

hi hi! it’s se anon again and i wanna talk a lil about gongjo if thats ok since ive been rewatching tkem djdh and the scene with gon saving taeeul with his cavalry just makes me think about how more emotional that scene would be if yeong was the one getting saved. his years of training for situations of kidnapping kicks in and he escapes after days of dehydration and starvation so hes exhausted when he tries to find a safe spot but doesnt lead them back to the palace so gon is safe- (1/?)

+and completely prepared to die when he sees more traitors chasing after him. he thinks about how he always prepared to die for gon but best case scenario he’d die in his arms, but he’s alone. one against many with only a knife in his hand and his gun empty of bullets. but when he sees a helicopter fly over him with the king’s cars with guards and finally gon himself with the cavalry, fully armed to protect his Sword, the palpable relief and shock he feels that gon is risking so much to save him-

+and the fact that /his/ guards, the ones he trained and also look after, are protecting him is something he never imagined before. and especially not gon willingly going into battle himself, blood on his sword and his hands, just to run up to yeong and hug him. i just think the potential of it would be SO good. also sorry for all the rambles!! jfjfjd and going back to the jangchu tkem au, this scene would also be everything with king jaeyoung and Sword sangwoo :’) (3/3)

hi hi! oh my gosh I LOVE THIS!!!!! I'm still very much insane over gonjo and one of my favorite things ever is seeing Person A injured and see Person B just going feral! I was literally breathless the first time I saw that scene but whenever you spin it so that it's Yeong who's in tae-eul's place? I'M YELLING!!!!

I think it would be so breathtaking. I wrote a little fic in the fall about how yeong's trained very seriously to protect gon and the monarchy ever since he was little and how that's involved a lot of unsavory things that both he and gon have to live with/reconcile. So saying, in this new AU, I would love if Yeong was missing for like a week? two weeks? something longer because he really needs to be pushed past his limits-- even if he never truly breaks.

Gosh, just imagining The Jo Yeong driving like a bat out of hell and being the ruthless badass we know he is! calling the palace and just giving a goodbye to gon not asking to be saved just wanting to get his last words out!! the fact that when he thinks it's the end, it isn't defeat hunching his shoulders-- he meets his presumed end with are solved stare and a straight spine!!

and then gon saves him!!! and it takes yeong a moment to realize what he's seeing and even though he's exhausted and at his limit, his training kicks in and he ends up also fighting with gon side by side using just his body and the knife, a last wave of adrenaline pushing him on!!

and you're so right!!! seeing the guards that he has trained help him! the people that he considers his stepping in and protecting him!! it literally makes yeong cry (in the moment or later in the hospital, you choose lol). and he's so worried that his guards will, like, think less of him or some shit but they all go on and on about how they wouldn't have lasted as long as he did and omg he is so impressive his fighting skill/style is just awe-inspiring!!!

and then it's over and finally, finally yeong can rest and he collapses in gon's arms!!! and gon feels a wave of relief/emotion that he never has before!! his yeong=ah is okay :') and gon's ENTIRE focus is just on making sure yeong gets the finest medical care available-- the king's own suite in the hospital, just all the stops! and he doesn't leave his side!!

I absolutely love that you sent me this because I just read an amazing gonjo fic last? week? and just-- yeah, i'm still crazy about them and the potential of their relationship/these characters are so damn compelling!!

and with the SE AU, I think it would be particularly striking to see sangwoo-- who is so deadpan and stoic and independent? reserved?-- absolutely fall into Jaeyoung's arms as soon as it's safe to do so and to see jaeyoung sweep him up in his arms and glower at Anyone who tries to get too close!!!

[library-ghoulette]

Chapter 7/?

(You can also read this and my other fics on ao3!)

Pairing: Copia (Papa Emeritus IV) x Original Female Character

Rating: Explicit, MDNI

Tags: Third person POV, original female character, slowburn, workplace romance, idiots to lovers

Words: 4132

Summary: In which Sister Beatrice attempts to ignore her growing feelings during her second clandestine budget meeting with Copia, and the seeds of two interesting new possibilities are planted.

Wednesday evening finds Beatrice cloistered in her office, agonizing over the latest draft of a grant proposal, confident that she can charm the funding organization out enough money to buy all the book scanners she could ever want, if only she can find precisely the right wording. She starts at the sound of the library door opening, her heart leaping into her throat.

At the sound of Copia's curious "helloooo?" ringing through the seemingly empty library, her heart executes an entirely different maneuver, a swoony, swoopy little loop-the-loop that Beatrice absolutely is not going to examine right now. Or ever.

"In here!" she calls, and soon Copia is filling the doorway, looking happy to see her and hefting two carryout bags in his hands.

She's suddenly all too aware of Copia taking in her office, eyes sweeping over the little personal touches she's given it so far, and she tries not to feel self-conscious. It's not much, just a small space with a slightly battered old desk and a book cart for her cataloging projects, a chair for visitors, and not much else. But she's hung her diploma on the wall behind her—with great satisfaction to finally have somewhere to display that very expensive piece of paper—and on another wall a framed danse macabre print, with cheery medieval skeletons that always made her smile. She's draped a fuzzy purple throw over the back of her desk chair, because the temperature in the old building is unpredictable and sometimes chilly. Her favorite mug—a chunky, fat-bottomed thing impervious to being knocked over accidentally—sits close to hand, the dregs of a citrussy Earl Grey drying in the bottom.

"Want me to set up at our, ah, usual table?" Copia asks, and she nods.

"I'll be out in a minute. "She nods toward her computer screen. "I just need to save this."

"Okie dokie," he says with a smile, and turns away, leaving her to save her draft—and to wonder how that's the same man who leads mass with such imposing authority. The contrast is entirely too endearing, and does nothing to assuage the uncomfortable feelings she's been trying to ignore since Sunday.

When she gathers her things and walks out to the reading room, she finds that Copia has laid out another spread of the surprisingly delicious takeout from the Abbey dining hall.

"Something healthy," he says, pointing to the salad with grilled chicken, "and also fries. As requested."

He had messaged her earlier to ask if she would like anything in particular. Normally, she would have said she didn't care, anything would be fine. She was nothing if not amenable to whatever everyone else around her preferred. But this time, she had surprised herself by asking for exactly what she wanted. Maybe it's a side effect of this new life she's started, some domino effect set off by actually applying for this job.

Or maybe it's just because the food is legitimately so much better here. As she bites into a perfectly seasoned, perfectly crispy french fry, she remembers the soggy fries, scorched coffee, and bland casseroles in the cafeteria at Infernal Heart. Despite the constant stress, there are definitely some perks to working somewhere as prosperous as Ministry headquarters.

"Thank you," she says, trying not to moan. "I needed this."

"Hard day?"

"Kind of? It's just…" Beatrice sighs and trails off. How to even explain it? It's not like anything bad actually happened, but she's bone tired as usual, and… "I hate that the library is closed," she says, putting words to the frustration for the first time. "It makes me feel like I'm not doing anything."

"But you are," Copia reassures her.

"I know! But there's so much to do, and it feels like I'm getting more behind every day, somehow. If I had staff, someone to help, I could dig myself out of this mess, but…"

She viciously spears a piece of chicken breast with her fork, getting more frustrated with her situation the longer she talks about it.

"I need to hire people, already, and the applications I'm getting are horrible," she continues. "But I'm probably going to have to interview everyone, anyway, because I'm barely getting any applications at all."

Copia listens, chewing thoughtfully, then asks, "Have you considered using a ghoul to fill one of the positions?"

"Do you… have a spare ghoul?" Beatrice asks, incredulous, and laughs softly. "With a degree in library science?"

There are ghouls who perform various jobs around the Abbey. Most notably they perform as part of the Ghost Project, but she has also glimpsed them working in the gardens and running to and fro in the infirmary. Some of them do taxes, or so she's heard. She doesn't have any experience with them, though—ghouls are not common, to say the least, especially outside of Ministry headquarters.

"I don't mean one of my ghouls, sorellina," Copia gently corrects her.

She cocks her head in confusion. "Then what do you mean?"

Copia reaches forward and steals one of her fries. Before she can protest, he surprises the words right out of her mouth by saying, "I mean that you could summon a ghoul of your own."

A cold wave of shock washes over her. "I couldn't do that."

"Oh, come on." Copia eyes her shrewdly. "You expect me to believe you don't know how?"

She looks askance, immediately betraying herself. "I've… studied the theory, of course. In my ritual magic classes."

In truth, she's read much more than the cursory and not at all instructive explanation of the theory of ghoul summoning that is part of the standard curriculum Sisters of Sin are expected to learn. Even in the more advanced elective classes she had taken, Beatrice had proven a bit of a nightmare for her professor, who tired of her questions regarding supplemental reading to the supplemental reading. Finally, she had been left to her own considerable devices. It's amazing what you can get through interlibrary loan, if you know how to look for them.

"But I'm unfamiliar with the practical aspects," she continues, in a futile effort to defend herself against the all-too-knowing look in Copia's mismatched gaze, which is still a bit intimidating to her, even when it's also warm and teasing. It's the white eye, she thinks. It always sends a bit of a thrill through her, no matter the topic of conversation…

Nope, she thinks. Not thinking about that.

"I could help with the, ah, practical aspects," Copia says.

The prospect is more tempting than Beatrice wants to acknowledge. A ghoul, who would be summoned especially for her, with all of the skills she requires and more experience than any human could possibly have. Who in her position wouldn't want that?

"But only upper clergy are allowed to perform summonings of that caliber," she protests. "I'm not clergy at all. I haven't even taken my final vows."

"Hmm. I believe that there is a loophole in that rule. Something about obtaining permission from upper clergy, under extenuating circumstances?"

"Really?" She considers this. There isn't a level of clergy above Papa, after all, so she can't imagine that anyone would be able to put up much of a fight against his permission in this scenario, but—

What if she fucks it up, somehow? Insecurity slashes through her consideration of the possibilities.

"No," she decides. "I should— I should do this the normal way."

Copia studies her face, and for a moment Beatrice thinks that he's going to press further, but he relents. "Okay. Well, in that case, we'd better get cracking on our plan…"

It's a relief to Beatrice to settle back into their project, to focus on their common goal. It's comforting to her to take action and to be in control, and lately, nothing has made her feel more in control than this.

But while the numbers and spreadsheets make her feel in control, her body is less cooperative. Copia moves to sit in the chair next to hers, all the better to see each other's work… and all the better for their arms to accidentally brush against one another. At one point he leans in close to examine something in her notes, and their knees nudging against each other under the table sends a jolt through her, from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. She's mortified that their proximity to one another turns her into a live wire, and she prays that it's not obvious.

Even with Beatrice's worries and jumpy distraction, they make good progress, formulating a plan that reallocates enough funding for the library to make its necessary upgrades and doesn't negatively impact any vital functions of the Ghost Project. (Although it does cut into wardrobe, just a bit, with Beatrice unable to restrain herself from exclaiming, "That much money? For a sparkly jacket??" and, "You want how many of them?")

Eventually, it's just down to finishing touches, double-checking math, and subjecting the project to a thoroughness that seems to Beatrice to be one part anxiety and two parts killing time. Which is silly, of course. Why would she want to drag this out any longer than she needs to, when she's been at work since early that morning and needs to get back to her apartment to… to sweep the kitchen, plan her outfit for tomorrow, something.

Surely there's plenty that she needs to be doing in her empty apartment, alone, away from Copia and the rich, spicy scent of his cologne and the way he smiles at her, looking proud and almost even affectionate, when he says, "I think that should do it, don't you?"

"Oh," Beatrice says, startled out of what she realizes was a brief reverie, "yes, I— I hope so, anyway." She gathers her work and her wits. "It shouldn't take me long to put everything together to present at the next admin meeting."

She lets out a little sigh of accomplishment and pushes her chair back from the table, rolling the tension out of her shoulders before turning to Copia. "Thank you. I— I'm used to trying to get by on my own, but I don't know what I would have done without your help."

For a moment, Copia looks flustered by her sincerity, the tips of his ears flushing pink, before he regains his composure.

"Don't mention it," he says. Then, thinking for a beat: "No, really, don't mention it. Maybe it's best to let this be a big surprise for Sister Imperator, huh?"

"Not a word." Beatrice smiles conspiratorially, and a spiteful note creeps into her voice when she says, "Let her spend the next few weeks thinking I'm panicking. She won't know what hit her."

Beatrice snaps her laptop closed with a satisfying little click. It is profoundly satisfying to have gotten this far, and she feels much more hopeful than she did leaving that disaster of a meeting… But she can't help but feel a tiny pang of sadness. There won't be any more long nights in the library, she supposes, now that they've finished their scheming.

The rustling of a plastic bag distracts her, and she looks over to see Copia pulling out a clamshell holding a thick, dark slice of chocolate cake.

"It seems we forgot something."

The lid springs open, releasing a sweet aroma that makes Beatrice's mouth water. She's always had a bit of a sweet tooth, and even used to bake as a hobby. At her old public library job, she made it a habit to bring in homemade cupcakes for staff birthdays, which they had joked wasn't the only reason she was their favorite supervisor, but it didn't hurt. She hasn't baked anything in a long time, she realizes.

She watches as Copia slides a plastic fork down through the creamy frosting and perfectly firm sponge. He holds the fork up to her.

"You have the first bite."

"Oh— no, thank you. I shouldn't."

He cocks an eyebrow at her word choice, the baggage in shouldn't. He doesn't comment, but he doesn't have to, his expression alone saying it all.

"It wasn't a request, sorellina," he says instead, tone playfully serious. "Are you refusing a direct order from your Papa?"

Beatrice bites her lip, gaze bouncing between Copia and the bite of cake.

"It's devil's food, you know. Think of it as communion." He gives her a wry smile before affecting the solemn expression he wears during mass, holding the cake up as though consecrating a host, then offering her the bite again. "The Body of Satan."

Beatrice feels a hot flush creep up her neck and over her cheeks at the words and the memories they evoke of the recent mass.

She tries to shrug it off, rolling her eyes and dutifully playing along. She stops short of folding her hands in prayer, but supplies the expected response of "nema" and leans forward, letting her mouth fall open to accept this sacrilegious sacrament.

Copia holds her gaze as he slides the fork into her mouth, watching her close her lips around the cake, the way her eyes involuntarily slide shut with pleasure at the taste.

"Good, right?"

She nods, holding a hand over her mouth as she chews. "Very."

Copia takes a bite of his own, savoring it slowly, before offering her another.

"You know," he says, as he slides the fork out of her mouth, "I noticed that you left mass in a hurry on Sunday."

"Oh?" It comes out cake-muffled, and she's glad to have an excuse to stall before she has to say anything more articulate.

Beatrice is well aware that she left mass in a hurry. Frankly, she ran out of the cathedral like her habit had caught fire, practically elbowing other congregants out of her path the instant the service concluded.

"I was worried something might have been wrong?" Copia asks carefully.

"No. Nothing was wrong."

Except that every second of mass had been torture, and none of them worse than taking communion. As she stood in line, waiting for her turn to accept the host, she had felt like a giant beacon was flashing over her head. Neon lights spelling out HORNY for everyone to see, with a little arrow pointing helpfully down at her, lest anyone be confused.

Her knees had been shaky when she knelt before Copia. From that vantage point he had towered over her, impossibly regal, and when he brought the host down to place it gently on her tongue, his white eye had seemed to bore directly into her soul. She had felt stripped bare, as though her mind were an open book and he was reading every unprofessional thought she had ever had about him off the pages.

It was mortifying. To make matters worse, Sister Imperator had seemed to give her an odd look when Beatrice accepted the wine from her. A knowing look.

It was too much. Beatrice simply had to escape, couldn't bear the thought of facing anyone for small talk after the service. Couldn't bear the thought of facing him. So she had fled at the earliest opportunity, pedaling back to her apartment at double her usual speed, all too conscious of the desire kindling inside of her the entire way.

She can't tell Copia any of this. And she especially can't tell him what she had done once she made it back to the safety of her bedroom. That she hadn't even bothered to remove her habit before spreading herself over her bed, just pulled her panties aside in a feverish haze and got herself off rough and fast, letting her mind conjure up images of her kneeling in front of him again, lifting his chasuble out of the way and—

"Good," he says, bringing her back to the present.

"Yeah, I, uh, I had to help my landlady with some things back at my apartment." Beatrice blushes more fiercely with each word, but can't stop herself. "She's older, and, you know… needs help with things. Sometimes."

She winces internally. She hates lying, in no small part because she's really bad at it if the lie involves actually speaking instead of just letting someone believe whatever they want.

"That's nice of you to help her with… things."

His smile is soft and clearly says that he knows what she's saying is bullshit, but he's going to kindly refrain from pressing her on it. For which she is grateful.

"I enjoyed mass," she says, which is a slight lie, then, "Especially the choice of reading," which is not.

"I thought you might."

The words carry implications that are not lost on Beatrice: Copia thought she would enjoy the reading. He had considered her reaction. Had he been thinking of her when he wrote his homily? Had… had the entire service been designed with her in mind?

But there's little time to think of a way to voice these questions or even decide whether it's smart to do so, because at that moment Copia's gaze lands on the corner of her mouth.

"You have a bit of chocolate," he says, gesturing. "On your cheek, just—"

"Here?" She licks in the direction he's indicating but misses entirely.

"No, a little to the right— Here."

And before she knows what's happening, Copia pulls off one of his gloves and reaches out to her, cupping her face in his palm and gently wiping the smear of frosting away with his thumb.

"Got it." His voice is soft, barely more than a whisper. Beatrice is suddenly aware of the cocoon of silence around them, of how very alone they are together. Her heart beats loud in her ears and it's not from fear, or not entirely, and Copia doesn't let her go, and she doesn't want him to. Time slows, a tether drawn between them that neither seems willing to break.

Copia's touch is soft and warm, and Beatrice finds herself leaning into it. The pad of his thumb traces along the edge of her bottom lip, slow and exploratory, and then he looks down at her mouth and that's all it takes for time to begin moving forward again. For them to fall toward each other.

The first kiss is brief, tentative, little more than an unsure press of lips together before drawing back. But then Copia's hand slides around to the back of Beatrice's neck and she lets herself be drawn back in.

It's been a long time since she's kissed anyone, and she worries that she's forgotten quite how to do this, that she's doing something wrong and that he'll be able to tell. But his lips are soft against hers, and for a moment she forgets herself, lost in the way his kiss makes her entire body feel warm and pliant and needy.

If they could somehow have kept kissing forever, everything would have been fine. But as soon as they break away from one another, the dreaminess suffusing Beatrice is replaced by panic. By What the fuck am I doing?

"I—" There are infinite ways to continue that sentence, and although she doesn't know what the right one is, she knows that she's picked the wrong one as soon as it's out of her mouth: "I should get going. It's— It's getting late, and— Yeah. You should go— I mean, I should go. Now."

Stupid.

There's no getting around it, no other word for what he pulled back there with Beatrice. Stupid Copia, fuckup Copia, getting it wrong and embarrassing himself once again.

He leans over the sink, splashing water over his face, rinsing off the last of the cleanser before regarding himself in the mirror, searching for any of the paint he's missed. He wipes away an errant bit of black from beside his temple and sighs unhappily.

He looks as tired as he feels, without the forgiving black that hides the dark circles under his eyes. It's always a little bit of a letdown to see his own face, these days.

He turns away from his reflection, turns on the shower. As the water warms up he strips off his shirt and trousers, tossing them in the direction of the hamper before stepping under the hot spray. Steam fills the bathroom; the heat feels good, easing some of the tension from his tight shoulders as he lathers himself.

He had been feeling good about things with Beatrice, had felt like he was actually doing something worthwhile with her, something that mattered. He had liked being around her, and at least for a short time, he had thought that she liked being around him, too. There were moments when her reserve had relaxed, when the rapport had felt easy in a way that hinted at greater closeness to come. That's what makes this, this fiasco, all the worse.

As he works shampoo into his hair, an image of the way she had looked after they kissed flashes through his mind. She had looked panicked, desperate to get away from him. Just like she had been desperate to get away from him after mass. She had barely made eye contact as she left, declining his offer to walk her out and practically running away. She had rushed them out of the library and then bolted so quickly that he hadn't even had a chance to apologize.

He needs to apologize, he thinks, needs to find her first thing tomorrow and make this right. Or as right as it can be. Even the idea of bringing it up with her makes him cringe. Maybe they can just pretend it never happened?

Maybe that communion bit had been too much, had hit too close to how he had felt during mass, when she had knelt for the sacrament and he had been sure everyone in the sanctuary could see his hand tremble when he placed it on her tongue. The kind of horny that at some point, any self-respecting person in his position either learns to channel productively or gracefully ignore, and he had failed at both. He had barely been able to keep his eyes off of her the entire service, seeking her out in the crowd again and again, wanting to see her reaction to the words he had written with her in mind.

Stupid.

He's too old to be acting like this. Fuck, he's too old for her. What must she think of him, some creepy old man who comes to her, offering her help, only to put the moves on her the first real chance he gets?

He genuinely had wanted to help her.

But he had genuinely wanted to put the moves on her, too. There's something about her that he just can't shake, that he hasn't been able to shake since the day they met. It's only become more undeniable, more clear that something like this would happen the more time he spent around her.

Even now, in the midst of his self-recrimination, he still can't escape the memory of how she had leaned back in after that first kiss, how her lips had parted so easily beneath his, so eager. How he had been close enough to smell her perfume, red roses and something dark, earthy. How soft the hair at the nape of her neck had felt, and how a wayward curl had fallen out of her bun, making him imagine loosing the rest of it, letting it tumble down over her shoulders so he could tangle his fingers in it…

He closes his eyes and dips beneath the spray, as though to dispel the train of thought.

This is how it's been almost every single night: one small instance, one tiny memory of her setting off a cascade of images both real and imagined, until he's aching just at the thought of her. His cock standing at attention, begging for release, as it is now.

He braces one hand against the wall of the shower and strokes himself with the other. His mind gently lets go of the shame, clinging instead to happier things: the easy flush that floods her cheeks every time he looks at her, and the question of how far that flush dips down beneath the collars of those modest little black dresses she always wears. He imagines her soft curves laid bare, imagines kissing along the swell of her full breasts and watching the pale skin turn pink, supple flesh turned feverish with desire—

He comes so hard that his knees buckle, and his mind is briefly, gloriously blank, all worries blotted out by pleasure. If he can't have her, then at least he can have this. One small moment of peace, before he lets it wash away.

A/N: The idiots finally kissed! But will obviously continue to be idiots for… awhile longer.

While writing this chapter I became aware that I write about food a lot and have been subconsciously using it as a metaphor for desire, and also the denial or thwarting thereof. I love when patterns like that come out of the woodwork, so I thought I'd include it as a little bit of director's commentary, if you will. :)

[fleurriee]

it’s been wayyyyyy too long im so sorry bestie 👀 but im finally here now to read the best series there ever lived!!! i also hope u don’t mind that my comments are quite long but i get so into reading these that i need u to know my every thought 😘

“What is it about?” Neteyam probed further.

You thought about it for a second. 

“It’s a story about two people who come from different worlds, and their journey of understanding each other and overcoming their feelings of, you guessed it, pride and prejudice towards one another and towards each other’s world.”  

CRYINGGG ANDRA i never thought how similar it is ughhhghghhh

Your words upset him, he realises in slight surprise. He looks at your figure sprawled over the bed looking up at the ceiling above you in contemplation and feels a pang of hurt as he considers the fact you didn’t think of him when reading a book so close to your heart.

he’s actually so bby wth. getting upset she didn’t think of him :((

He obliged and found another spot on the bed, which was now emanating the warmth of your body, and he slowly touched the blanket as if trying to commit the feeling to memory.

i saw that neteyam. i know exactly what that action means.... he’s in love 😩

“Ah, there is it.” You cleared your throat, then continued. “He is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” 

ANDRA IVE ONLY JUST STARTED THIS CHAPTER WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS??? they’re everything istg. they need to just get together, or least be besties again 🤧

“Your mum gave me this, a couple of weeks before she passed. She asked me to hold on to it and give it to your on your 18th birthday.”

“I hope whatever’s on there will give you some peace of mind, kid. I know life’s not been kind to you, but it’s time… time to move on, you know?” 

ffs andra i don’t wanna cry. it’s 9 in the morning on a fucking tuesday.

...sitting in Max’s lap and watching the brain activity, bombarding him with questions with answers you couldn’t’ possibly comprehend yet.

the relationship she has with both norm & max is so beautiful. like i love all their dynamics together & the fact they’re both practically her dads??? i love to see it.

“...Please don’t do a Jake.” 

LMAO jake really was the main character 🤪 he just wanted to run around & be goofy.

Neteyam’s words suddenly broke through.  “You’re not going to make it.” 

Adrenaline turned into rage and you hated it, hated the boy in that moment. Hated the effect his words had on you, even after so much time.

“You know nothing about the real world.” 

ughhh i love neteyam but hate him rn cause this is supposed to be her moment & she’s putting herself down bc of something he said 😭 istg if that boy doesn’t step up soon

“Angel, you there?” 

“Give her a second, Lo’ak. This is bound to overwhelm her and you yelling at her isn’t going to speed up the process.”

“I can’t believe she just hissed at me.” 

oh i absolutely love they came to see her 🤧🤧🤧🤧 also lo’ak’s so funny & dramatic, what did he expect lmao??

“Damn, you’re hot this way, too. This is unfair, you know? But also somehow makes me feel better that it turns out I’m not into a different species altogether, just one girl.” 

this a neteyam fic this a neteyam fic this a neteyam fic this a neteyam fic!!!! i swear im a neteyam girl but sometimes... 👀

“We have to get going, you’re going to start your training today, and your new boss is not going to be happy if you’re late.”

“Yep. Neteyam has been given the tough job of taking your lab ass and turning it into a Na’vi warrior. I have to say, I don’t envy him,  and I definitely don’t envy you.” 

OH LETS GO I FUCKING LOVE THIS TYPE OF TROPE!! gimme all the forced proximity plsss let there be tension!!!! 🥵

...for better or for worse, at least he had parents to rely on him. The thought made him sad, and he felt guilt at the words he spat at you yesterday. He knew they were for the greater good, but he also knew they crossed a line, a line that he might not be able to cross back from. 

keep that self reflection coming neteyam cause u got a LONG ride to redemption lmao.

Next to Lo’ak was a girl. The most beautiful girl he has ever laid his eyes on. Her stripes were somehow more accentuated than normal, and they reminded him of his own. It was something he was insecure about growing up, the deep contrast something his friends and even family teased him about relentlessly, but now, looking at it on her, he realised they were blind - he was blind - to have ever hated them. Her eyes were now yellow, a big departure from her human eyes, and although it was strange, just like the rest of her, they still felt familiar to him. Like no matter what body she inhabited, her soul would always shine through, always calling out to him like a moth to a flame. He knew then he’d always feel like this about her, for the rest of his life, no matter what she looked like. Fuck.

im sorry i had to include the whole thing bc THIS ENTIRE PARAGRAPH?? like neteyam pls it’s so obvious that you love her!!! the way he looked at her and just thought yep, that’s her. she’s the one in any form. if someone doesn’t smack him to get his head straight again i’ll do it myself. im so desperate to find out what’s keeping them apart just so they can reconcile again 🥲

His shoulders were broader and his arms were bigger, leading to a more accentuated contrast between them and his waist, and you hated yourself for how it made you feel, how your mouth filled with saliva you had to force yourself to swallow and how your pulse increased so rapidly it almost made you dizzy.

ahaa even she knows 🥵🥵 hottest man alive on any planet istg

“... Pretend you don’t know me, pretend we’re not you and me.” 

“I don’t know you, Neteyam.”

oh wow that one hurt.. like that one stung. why are they like this, why can’t they just love each other like they want to 😭😭

...and vowed to yourself that you would take care of this bow with your life, if not for anything else, for the still untarnished memory of that little boy you once loved so much.

andra... this isn’t funny anymore. im in pain.

“Kurkung (asshole).” Neteyam shoots you a dirty look and you can’t help but smirk. “What? That’s Na’vi. Perfect pronunciation, by the way.” 

i fucking love her. like how can you make me go from wanting to cry to cheering her on for riling up neteyam just to spite him??? talent.

You felt your anger pick up and the Pa’li let out a scream and rose on its hind legs, throwing you straight in the dirt. Neteyam laughed, but came to help you get up.

this is jake & neytiri 😭 ooooo h h h h h h i love everything about this andra.

“You know I’d never leave you alone.”

He picked you up and placed you on his back. “After 16 years, have I ever left you alone?” 

“...Well, I want to be strong and capable so I can always protect you...”

AHHHHHHH WHAT IS THIS??? NETEYAM YOU’RE GIVING ME WHIPLASH ISTG I FUCKING LOVE U & HATE U AT THE SAME TIME

A human skull you just stepped on... You lifted it to your eye line and heard yourself scream, wail louder than you ever had before... In a blind rage, you were clawing at your feet, trying to remove the dirt, remove the skin that stepped on your dad’s dead body...

oh god 😭 girlie has been through too much, she can’t catch a break. i mean i get that her dead was probably a dickhead with quaritch or something (at least, that’s my theory atm), he’s still her dad u know?? is she ever gonna be happy andra????

shock horror, this was absolutely amazing yet again. i love ur writing so much bc that simply did not feel like over 6k words. i was having too good of a time, clearly.

im so excited that she has her avatar body now!!! and we’re being forced to be with neteyam!!!! i can smell the tension from here. so ready for the next one 🤍🤍

Illicit Affairs | Chapter IV: Evermore

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Avatar!Reader

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: You and Neteyam both have to navigate a lot of painful memories on your first day in a new body

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, descriptions of ptsd flashbacks, cursing

Word Count: 6,2k words

A/N: Chapter 4 is the longest chapter I have written so far. There's definitely some fluff in there and some light hearted, beautiful moments, but it's also the darkest chapter I have written so far. There's some heavy stuff in there, so please read with caution! I wanted my characters to be well rounded and for there to be a good reason for every action they take; why the reader is a recluse, why Neteyam behaves the way he does, and why he left. There's layers to their story that will be unveiled through memories from both the main characters, so I hope you stick around to see where I plan to take this story <3 I never expected people to like it so much, and I hope you guys like what I have planned!

"I replay my footsteps on each stepping stone

Trying to find the one where I went wrong

And I couldn't be sure, I had a feeling so peculiar

That this pain would be for Evermore"

“Am I allowed to be here?” Neteyam says, carefully taking in the new environment that he’s never wondered through before. It was small and dark, his eyes needing a second to adjust to the contrast from the bright neon orbs that illuminated the hallways. His nose scrunched up, trying to assimilate the smell, and realised it just smells like you. 

“Who is going to stop you?” you laugh, and the sounds reverberates through his body and settles deep in his soul. He’s heard this sounds countless times in the 14 years he’s known you. It never ceased to amaze him. 

You take off your Converse shoes and throw them carelessly to the side, jump on the bed and reach for the light on the other side of it, sitting on the bedside table. The lamp turns on and Neteyam finds himself having to adjust to the brightness once more. He settles on the chair that was accompanying a small messy desk, filled with papers, books and electronic tablets that had something you called a graph on it. The words “cell viability” were written on top of it, but Neteyam didn’t know what that meant, so he turned his attention to the many, many books that were displayed on the shelves above the desk. 

He’s seen some of them before, some of them multiple times, as you did seem to have your favourites. He picked one up he recognised. It was called Pride and Prejudice and Neteyam assumed it was written by a person named Jane Austen. He knew you loved this book, but he’s never asked why.

“I love that one…” you started.

“I know” he says in Na’vi. “I just don’t know why.”

“I honestly couldn’t tell you. My mum read me paragraphs from it growing up, and it’s just a book that brings me comfort. I’ve read it so many times, I’ve memorised it, so it’s like a blanket. It makes me feel safe.”

“What is it about?” Neteyam probed further.

You thought about it for a second. 

“It’s a story about two people who come from different worlds, and their journey of understanding each other and overcoming their feelings of, you guessed it, pride and prejudice towards one another and towards each other’s world.”  

He sat with this new information for a while. “So like us?” 

“Mmm, I don’t think it’s like us at all. I think it’s more about my mum and dad, or at least I think my mum thought of her and dad when reading it.”

Your words upset him, he realises in slight surprise. He looks at your figure sprawled over the bed looking up at the ceiling above you in contemplation and feels a pang of hurt as he considers the fact you didn’t think of him when reading a book so close to your heart.

“I have a quote from another book that reminds me of you, though.” Almost as if you read his mind, you turned your head towards him with a smirk and raised an eyebrow.

He didn’t look at you, a small pout erupting from his lips without meaning to. You laugh at him and smile endearingly, softly shaking your head. 

You jump from the bed, slightly wincing when your left leg registers the action, and click your tongue at him so he can move from where he was sat. He obliged and found another spot on the bed, which was now emanating the warmth of your body, and he slowly touched the blanket as if trying to commit the feeling to memory. You climbed on the chair with another small wince and found a book on the uppermost shelf. You jumped from the chair straight on to the bed and fell next to him. 

Patting the spot next to you, you signalled for him to lie down. He did, although his legs were completely off the bed, the tiny contraption barely able to accommodate his torso. You let out a small laugh, but seemed happy to have him so close. 

You placed your head on his chest, and he prayed you couldn’t hear the way his heart felt like it was trying to escape his ribcage at your proximity and warmth. You opened the book and looked for the quote. 

“Ah, there is it.” You cleared your throat, then continued. “He is more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” 

“Get the fuck out of my room, Neteyam.”

You had just finished washing the day off when you heard a small knock on the door. Still reeling from the fight, it was taking everything out of you to muster up the strength to open that door and deal with whatever was waiting on the other side. With a deep sigh, you did so anyway. It was surprising for you to find Jake peering at you from the other side of the open door, a curious look on his handsome face. 

“Hey kid. We’re going to get going now. I just wanted to talk to you for a second before hand. Can I come in?” 

You hesitated for a second, then moved so he could enter. 

“So..” He started awkwardly. “I don’t really know how to do this.” You saw his left hand reaching behind his head and scratching his scalp with a small laugh. 

His eyes drop to a little package he was holding, wrapped in the same sort of cloth as the other gifts had been. He didn’t look at you as he spoke.

“Your mum gave me this, a couple of weeks before she passed. She asked me to hold on to it and give it to your on your 18th birthday.”

Your breath stopped in your lungs. He peered at you with a sad look and handed you the little box. A small video camera, like the ones used to record the Avatar program video logs was now resting peacefully in between your hands. 

“I hope whatever’s on there will give you some peace of mind, kid. I know life’s not been kind to you, but it’s time… time to move on, you know?” 

He got up from his spot on the bed and silently made his way out of the room. “See you tomorrow?” 

With your back to him, you gave him a nod, and with that, he was gone, closing the door behind him.

You stood like that, in the same position, with the camera in your hand for a long enough time that your left leg was starting to ache, an ache that eventually overtook the one in your soul and with that, you took the camera and the bracelet you removed from Neteyam’s hands and shoved them both in the bottom drawer of your desk. “Pandora’s box.”, you thought to yourself, with a bitter chuckle. 

You woke up with a groan, and the meanest headache known to man. Yesterday felt like you did in fact have the biggest party this world has ever seen, and the hangover to match. You scrambled out of bed, still in the dark, and searched on top of your desk for the little bottle of Ibuprofen you keep for days just like this. Today’s the day…

Norm enters your room quietly, and is surprised to see you up already. “So nervous you couldn’t sleep?” He says with a tentative smile.

“Something like that.” 

“Hey…you’re happy about this, right? Tell me we haven’t done this for almost a decade for no reason, cause you know, we can’t just give someone else the Avatar.” he says, with an uncomfortable chuckle. 

“I’m happy, Norm. It’s just a lot to take in, you know? A lot is going to have to change, and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t tend to do well with change.” you response, laughing to yourself.

“Yeah, me and Max worried about that, but, Ace… you have weathered every storm life’s thrown at you like a champ and I think beyond this great unknown lays a future so bright it will be able to make this planet shift on its axis.” 

You throw your head back and laugh loudly, “Wow, that’s a lot of trust right there. I’ll try not to disappoint.” 

If only Norm knew… knew how you have not been able to brave any storm, and how the storms, in time, turned to tornadoes and then hurricanes and then bigger hurricanes and all you’ve done your whole life is just move further in to the middle of the shelter hoping that someday they’ll just go away by themselves and when they do, there’s still some walls, any walls, surrounding you. 

You put some of Grace’s old workout clothes on and made your way to the Avatar room and properly looked at it, probably for the first time in your life. You used to love coming here as a kid, looking at the scientists in their link pods, at your mum in hers, sitting in Max’s lap and watching the brain activity, bombarding him with questions with answers you couldn’t’ possibly comprehend yet. You’ve moved away from that fascination in time. Now here you stood, about to get your own linkpod and your own brain activity analysed. You peered in the room next to it, where on a big flat metal table lay a blue body, and you couldn’t help yourself from moving closer until your breath was so close to the window in was fogging up the glass. You placed a hand on the cold glass and stared at the new you, and a small smile appeared on your face. It was beautiful, more so than you ever thought your human form to be. Your heart picked up pace in your chest and you were shocked at the realisation that the nerves that you thought only reflected fear and anxiety, also reflected excitement. 

“It’s time.” Max said from somewhere behind you.

You turned and made your way with timid steps towards the linkpod. You climbed on it and the feeling of the green malleable foam woke up a memory inside you, that you fought to push back to where it came from. Now’s not the time. It was cold on your arms and thighs as you lay in it, but weirdly comfortable, like what you would imagine water mattresses you saw in old Hollywood movies to feel. 

Max placed a metal frame of sorts on top on your own and spoke slowly. “Okay, you know the drill, Ace. You have to relax and let your mind go blank. You will be disoriented when you wake up, so take your time in there and don’t rush. Please don’t do a Jake.” 

You chuckled at the story you’ve heard one too many times, but never seemed to get tired of it. 

“We will have to run tests to make sure everything is in order. This is new territory for all of us, and we don’t know how the Avatar will behave yet, so we will take our time and do it right.” 

“Aye aye, Captain.”

You did as you were told and found it hard to relax and let your mind go blank when it was running a million miles an hour with so many emotions, so many thoughts and worries. Still, with all your might, you sat there, and cleared your mind for a split second. It was enough. 

You woke up like from a dream, feeling groggy and tired. Your muscles hurt, a lot. You winced slightly at the gentle touch of a hand, which felt like that time you touched the inside of an electrical socket and got slightly electrocuted. You felt clothes clinging to your body and hated the way the synthetic fabric felt against your skin. You took your first breath and your nose crinkled in disgust at the overbearing smell of alcohol and chloride. 

“Ace? C’mon kid, there you go, you can do it.” 

You finally opened your eyes and groaned at the intense light on the ceiling. Your eyes took a while to focus, but when they did, you saw Norm staring back at you with a smile.

“Hi.” you said, with a deep frown and groggy voice. This was overwhelming. 

“Hi back! Take it easy, alright? Me and Claire will runs some tests to make sure everything’s a-okay. It will take about an hour, I know this whole experience can be a bit strange in the beginning, so hopefully this will ease you into it.”

Norm was a man of his word, and after about an hour of wiggling every part of your body, touching your fingers to your nose, remembering names of objects and repeating it to them, among other things, you were ready to go. You realise to your surprise that you’re excited about going outside. You couldn’t stand the sensation overload that came with being in this lab, in this body. You stood up gently and removed the chords that were still attached to you. You turned around to look at the glass that was reflecting your new figure back at you, and found yourself at a loss for words for the millionth time in 24 hours. It was such a strange feeling, and you knew it would take you a while to get used to looking in the mirror and be met with this. You smiled and waved, knowing Max would be watching you from behind the glass, even though you couldn’t see it. 

Norm handed you a bag, and you peered inside to find a beige loincloth and the top Neytiri gifted you yesterday. “Go change, I think you’ll feel better in these.” 

You did as you were told. Removing the white hospital garb you had on, you looked at yourself fore the first time, properly looked. You were tall. Very tall. And skinny, very skinny. Lean was probably a better word for it, as you couldn’t see an ounce of fat anywhere on your body. You started poking your body in different spots and let out a small laugh at the feeling: it felt like touching soft metal. You were strong. The thought made you happy. You looked again in the mirror at your face. Big yellow eyes looked at you curiously. They traced your nose, and your plump lips and your white freckles, beautiful like the night sky. Your eyes settled on your hair, long and soft and dark and your arm reached behind you to bring your braid into focus. You lifted it and looked in awe at the queue and the way the tendrils were moving on their own accord. Adrenaline was coursing through your veins like water breaking apart mountains to make a canyon of your mind. 

Neteyam’s words suddenly broke through.  “You’re not going to make it.” 

Adrenaline turned into rage and you hated it, hated the boy in that moment. Hated the effect his words had on you, even after so much time. You dressed slowly and tried to make sense of the “top” Neytiri gave you. Once you put it on, you looked back in the mirror and loved the way it looked on you. You also had a newfound appreciation for the soft feel of the feathers and the beads, and took note of the contrast between it and the unnatural feeling hospital gown you were in a few minutes ago. If it wasn’t for your eyebrows and your five fingers and your soft, straight hair, you wondered if anyone could be fooled into thinking you are, in fact, Na’vi. 

“You know nothing about the real world.” 

Dropping the clothes in the bag provided, you took one last look at yourself and saw something in your eyes that wasn’t there before. Determination. The sick, stubborn determination that has always made you push out all reason as soon as someone tells you you can’t do something. 

“Tell Norm no.”

You left the room smiling. You will make him eat his words, and you will enjoy every minute of it.

You reached for the mask packs by the entrance and dropped your hand. You will never have to wear that damn mask again, you thought with satisfaction. As you stood outside, it felt again like emerging in your avatar body for the first time. So many sounds, colours, sensations flooded your being and you couldn’t even register the voice yelling your name until the person that spoke it took you by the shoulders. You hissed at the sudden contact and it shocked you. Where did that come from? 

“Angel, you there?” 

“Give her a second, Lo’ak. This is bound to overwhelm her and you yelling at her isn’t going to speed up the process.”

“I can’t believe she just hissed at me.” 

The world slowly seemed to settle around you, and you focused you sight on the boy in front of you… the boy who was now your height.

“Lo’ak?” 

“Hey, you.” The younger Sully boy gave you a big smile and eyed you intently up and down a few times. “Damn, you’re hot this way, too. This is unfair, you know? But also somehow makes me feel better that it turns out I’m not into a different species altogether, just one girl.” 

You laughed, really laughed. Lo’ak was a charmer, another one of the many many traits he inherited from his dad. 

“You’re shorter than I thought you’d be.” 

“Ouch.” You knew he wasn’t really offended, so you blew a kiss towards him and shifted your attention to the world, that you realise you have never seen before. Not properly. Its beauty left you speechless. You don’t know how you were supposed to function when all you wanted to do is just walk around, smelling the flowers. 

“We have to get going, you’re going to start your training today, and your new boss is not going to be happy if you’re late.”

“My new boss?”

“Yep. Neteyam has been given the tough job of taking your lab ass and turning it into a Na’vi warrior. I have to say, I don’t envy him,  and I definitely don’t envy you.” 

“Lo’ak, shut up.” 

Well, this is going to be fun… You had a hunch Neteyam would have to train you, as Lo’ak is too young and restless and cares about the rules too little, or not at all, to do it, but hearing it as a fact made you shudder. You haven’t spent a whole day with Neteyam in years, and you didn’t particularly care for this new-and-improved version of himself. You wondered silently how this was going to go. If the last two interactions are anything to go by, you were not in for a happy time.  

“Lo’ak should be here any second. I want you to start training her right away. Maybe start with the Pa’li first, and do bow training when that gets too much. You won’t really have to teach her the language, but try to make sure you talk in Na’vi more than in English, and this way you’ll see if there are any gaps in her knowledge and address them. Neteyam, are you listening?” 

The oldest Sully sibling was only half paying attention to what his dad was telling him. In truth, he was scared half to death. He didn’t want to do any of this. This is not how any of this was supposed to go. He couldn’t be around you. He didn’t want to be around you and he most definitely didn’t want to have to teach you the ways of the Na’vi and have to put his own training and responsibilities aside for this. He has already had to teach Lo’ak whenever his parents had better things to do and he was getting so fucking tired of being used as soon as it was convenient for other people. 

He pushed the bitter feelings aside. His parents relied on him for a reason, he tried to remember. They relied on him because they trusted him, and because he fought hard to be worthy of that trust. He had no right to complain, not when he knew how much worse it could be… for better or for worse, at least he had parents to rely on him. The thought made him sad, and he felt guilt at the words he spat at you yesterday. He knew they were for the greater good, but he also knew they crossed a line, a line that he might not be able to cross back from. 

He didn’t have time to think about the consequences of his actions, as he heard a yell that pulled him out of his thoughts and he knew it was time to come face to face with his worst nightmare. 

“We’re here!”, screamed Lo’ak, and Neteyam suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at his immature younger brother. 

He made his way outside of the tent, picking up his knife and placing it on the sheath resting beneath his chest. He took a deep breath, one that got lodged in his throat.

Next to Lo’ak was a girl. The most beautiful girl he has ever laid his eyes on. Her stripes were somehow more accentuated than normal, and they reminded him of his own. It was something he was insecure about growing up, the deep contrast something his friends and even family teased him about relentlessly, but now, looking at it on her, he realised they were blind - he was blind - to have ever hated them. Her eyes were now yellow, a big departure from her human eyes, and although it was strange, just like the rest of her, they still felt familiar to him. Like no matter what body she inhabited, her soul would always shine through, always calling out to him like a moth to a flame. He knew then he’d always feel like this about her, for the rest of his life, no matter what she looked like. Fuck.

“Look at you, kid! You look like you belong already!” 

Jake’s voice cut through the tension that you felt sitting here, being eyed at like you were a new cub at the zoo. The stares made you so uncomfortable you felt like you were going to explode, and could not wait until this was no longer a novelty to anyone, including yourself. 

“Thank you, Jake. For everything. I cannot express how grateful I am that you and Neytiri, and the tribe, are so willing to accept me in the village.” 

“No problem, kid. Anyway, we will have plenty of time to discuss everything tonight at dinner, but for now I think you and Neteyam should head off. There’s a lot to learn.”

“Right.” You turned around and gave a half-smile to Lo’ak, who looked at you like you were a deer in headlights. Maybe you did look how you felt. 

You bid a small goodbye to everyone and suddenly found yourself face to face with the only person you didn’t want to see. 

He started walking without saying a word, and you followed him. You refused to say anything to him, there was nothing to say to him after yesterday. Before yesterday, you might have demanded an explanation, you might have demanded he told you what happened to him in the year he abandoned you, what lead to him leaving without a single word, how dare he forget about what he meant to you and what you knew you meant to him, how could he just forsake you like you were nothing; you would have screamed at him and told him you hated him without meaning it and hoped he would just hug you and told you he’s sorry, that he was stupid and that he’ll never leave you again. None of that came out. You were past that. He crossed a line and you knew it in your mind that no explanation would be enough, no excuse would justify his behaviour enough to satisfy you and make you forget. Not anymore. 

His back was to you as he was leading you away from the Sully tent, and for the first time in your life, you saw him for what he was. A leader, a warrior. He was lean and muscular, and his physique reminded you a lot more of Jake than a Na’vi man’s. His shoulders were broader and his arms were bigger, leading to a more accentuated contrast between them and his waist, and you hated yourself for how it made you feel, how your mouth filled with saliva you had to force yourself to swallow and how your pulse increased so rapidly it almost made you dizzy. He was taller than you, taller than Lo’ak and you knew that even in this body, he would still tower over you. You definitely hated how that made you feel. 

He stopped at the entrance to a tent. He opened the flap of the entrance and motioned for you to enter. You obliged without a word. He followed you in and closed the flap behind him. You didn’t like being in such close proximity, but you knew you’d have to get used to it, so you let it go.

“This is now your tent. Mum and Dad thought you would feel more comfortable with your own space. They also thought you’d like my old training bow. There’s a pouch for your knife that you can put around your torso and I have the knife, but I won’t give it to you until I make sure you won’t kill me with it.” 

As far as an attempt to diffuse an awkward situation goes, this wasn’t half bad. Still, not nearly good enough to matter. He sighed at the lack of response.

“Right. I think we have to get a few things straight.”

Your eyebrow raised, but you let him go on.

“I know you’re mad. I know you’re so mad you’re probably thinking of ways of sticking needles in my eyes. But I don’t care. I was given a responsibility to take care of you and to teach you. I know you think you know everything, but you don’t. I know you think you know this world, but you don’t. Not in the way you need to, to survive. There’s a reason no scientist living on Pandora has ever become one of the people. You can’t see. As my grandma always says, “you cannot fill a cup which is already full”. I know you. Your cup is overflowing. From now on, you do what I say. Pretend you don’t know me, pretend we’re not you and me.” 

“I don’t know you, Neteyam.”

He winced inside at the words. “That’s enough!” He said, forcefully. 

“You answer to me from now on and I want to make sure you understand that. Dad will skin me alive if anything happens to you. You will listen and you will do as I say. Whatever issues you have, you’re going to have to deal with them in your own time.” 

Another blow below the belt, you thought, and reminded yourself that you were here for a reason, you were here to make him eat his words, and if he wanted to play his game this way, you were more than happy to beat him at it. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

You made your way out of the village and walked in silence through the woods. You were looking at the bow in your hand, and carefully traced every mark and scratch on its surface. You couldn’t help wonder about what events in Neteyam’s life lead to each and every one of them, and vowed to yourself that you would take care of this bow with your life, if not for anything else, for the still untarnished memory of that little boy you once loved so much. Once you reached a large clearing, with beautiful lush greenery and a majestic waterfall, you thought this was definitely a much better view for training than the reagent-filled benches of the lab. You saw about half a dozen Pa’li peacefully feeding off the sweet nectar of flowers in the distance, and smiled gently at the sight. You will never get used to it, you knew. 

“First step to being a Na’vi, learning to form Tsaheylu and learning to ride the Pa’li.” Neteyam spoke in Na’vi over the soothing sounds of the forest.

“OK.” You answered shortly.

“In Na’vi. We speak Na’vi from now on.”

“Kurkung (asshole).” Neteyam shoots you a dirty look and you can’t help but smirk. “What? That’s Na’vi. Perfect pronunciation, by the way.” 

His mouth tightened in a straight line and he left you, busying himself with a Pa’li he called over. He caressed it gently and held his hand next to his eye, whispering. 

“Tam tam, Tirea, tam tam.” 

“Get on.” He spoke to you still looking at the Pa’li. 

Even in this body, the direhorse was significantly taller than you, and you shot Neteyam an incredulous look. Regardless, you made your way to the animal and with all of your might, willed yourself to get on top of it. It took a couple of tries, but you eventually succeeded. You were stronger than you realised, and you were excited to discover exactly how strong you could become in time. 

Neteyam gently took the neural whip of the direhorse and guided it to you. You took it in your right hand and stared at it in amazement. You have heard so much about this, you have seen it firsthand with Neteyam’s Ikran, but to know you will now have to make your own Tsaheylu, experience this deep bond you knew everything and yet nothing about, it was terrifying. You left hand went behind your head and brought forward your own queue. This was it. Slowly, you brought the two together, and held tightly on to the Pa’li as the new sensation overwhelmed all of your senses. It felt like all of your neurons were firing at the same time. It felt like you were being electrocuted. As the feeling subsided, you felt a breath that was moving at the same time as your own, you felt a second heartbeat that was going much faster than yours possibly could, and you tried to calm yourself down as you knew the nervousness the animal felt was mirroring your own. Neteyam allowed you a second to experience this for yourself with no interruption, and you appreciated that. He trusted you enough to give you some space, and with everything, at least this hasn’t changed.

“This is Tsaheylu. The bond. Take some time to feel her, feel her heartbeat, her breath. Feel her strong legs. You can tell her what to do, inside your mind. Remember that as you can feel her, she can feel you, too. Your emotions impact her, your thoughts impact her, so you have to calm your mind.Easier said than done in your case, I fear.” 

You felt your anger pick up and the Pa’li let out a scream and rose on its hind legs, throwing you straight in the dirt. Neteyam laughed, but came to help you get up. As you were removing mud from your face and hair and cursing all manners of profanities under you breath, you came to the bitter realisation this was going to be harder than you thought, especially with him as your teacher. 

He still knew you too well. You slapped his hand away and got up by yourself, indignantly. You jumped back on the Pa’li and tried your very, very best, to calm yourself before making the bond. The horse didn’t react as violently as last time, so you figured you were off to a better start. You calmed your mind as much as you could, like you did in the linkpod, and imagined her slowly moving forward. You smiled when she did just that, no words needed. It was hard to be able to maintain your composure when you were LITERALLY mind controlling another living being, but despite it needing active continuous effort, you felt you were doing a good job. You managed to make her go, sprint, gallop and turn, and despite the direhorse’s best efforts, you were somehow still tightly attached to its back. 

After a couple of hours, Neteyam told you to get off. He told you to follow him, and he took off, not sparing you a second glance. You followed him the best you could for a while, desperately trying to overlook how uncomfortable being barefoot made you feel. You didn’t like it at all, and more and more, you felt your heartbeat picking up in your chest and your knees shaking. You felt beads of sweat getting in your eyes and they stung, so you stopped. Your laboured breath became shallow, and your hands were shaking uncontrollably as you raised them to wipe your forehead. You felt your knees collapse under you, and you knew what was about to happen and that it was too late to stop it. 

“Neteyam, wait up.” You called after the blue boy, slight panic in your voice.

“I thought we were supposed to be racing.” 

“You win, alright? Don’t leave me alone in the woods.” 

You saw Neteyam jogging back to where you stood with a guilty look on his face. “You know I’d never leave you alone.”

He picked you up and placed you on his back. “After 16 years, have I ever left you alone?” 

“Well, you’ve been training a lot recently and I barely get to see you anymore, so I would say yes, you leave me alone plenty, more than I can say I care for.” 

“Well, I want to be strong and capable so I can always protect you. I mean look at you, Tuk’s gonna be stronger than you soon.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” You pretended to ignore his first sentence and how it lit your entire body on fire. 

You walked like this for a while. You placed your head on his shoulder and peered up at the tall trees. Prolimuris were swinging on them, picking up fruits as they went along. You saw two infants following their mother and stopping on the same branch as her, where she passed them what you were sure was a tasty afternoon snack. You smiled contently at the scene, and at the feeling of warmth Neteyam provided. 

“Put me down, I want to walk! I came with you to exercise, not be carried like a tiny Pandoran baby.” 

He did as you asked, huffing at your forever mercurial temper. 

With your back still to him, you let out a laugh and started running. “Race you to the clearing in the distance?” 

He rolled his eyes, and with a laugh, stopped himself. He always gave you a head start. “Fine, but you can’t get mad when I beat you again!” 

You turned around to give him a smile as you were running and loved the feeling of the ground beneath your feet. The only place you could run around barefoot, the only time you still felt alive. 

You came to an abrupt halt when your foot touched something strange, something unnatural. You slowly looked at your feet and froze in place as the smooth pale object made your blood run cold. It couldn’t be. You stepped away from it, not leaving it from your view and slowly, deliberately knelt down next to it. You heard Neteyam coming to a halt behind you, but couldn’t bring yourself to acknowledge his presence. Your hands started digging in the ground with morbid curiosity and the sounds around you became muffled as your erratic heartbeat was the only thing you could still hear. You removed the ground around it and tears formed in your eyes at the realisation that this was indeed what you feared it was: a human skull. A human skull you just stepped on. Before you knew it, your hands were reaching for a glimmer of silver shining in the shallow grave. You lifted it to your eye line and heard yourself scream, wail louder than you ever had before. The panic that overtook you was primal, but not unfamiliar and you threw the dog tag on the ground, with enough force you hoped would bury it further than anybody would ever be able to dig. You couldn’t see properly anymore, the tears and dizziness flooding your senses and you prayed you passed out, prayed to make this stop, prayed you were back in your room where your Xanax always lay by your bedside table. In a blind rage, you were clawing at your feet, trying to remove the dirt, remove the skin that stepped on your dad’s dead body like it was a gum wrapper on the pavement. Soon enough, you could taste the metal taste of blood that was lingering in the air and by the grace of whatever spirit was out there still looking after you, you felt yourself collapse in Neteyam’s arms. 

Tag list: @nuhteyam @eywas-heir @fanboyluvr @mashiromochi

[mister-lady]

Me: *decides to read a 'x reader'since I havent in probably years* *immedietly cringes up cause the reader is only a female with the same description* *remembers why I stopped reading these and tourchered myself with writing my own*

[hanasnx]

rain - spider-man / peter parker

summary: sweet sweet spider-loving. MINORS DNI

character(s): spider-man / peter parker x fem!reader (can be any spider-man you imagine like tasm)

word count: 5k

warnings: explicit sex, spidey being very impatient, mask kink mask kink mask kink & suit kink <3, VERY SLIGHT dub con because there was no explicit ask for consent— things were implied, no capitalization i apologize if it bothers u

notes: this is my first smut fic that’s been finished. ive been writing for a long time but this is the first time i’ve put it on anything :) i imagine spider-man from the 2018 insomniac game on ps4 “marvel’s spider-man” his voice actor and his character design is my favorite but you can imagine any spider-man u want, holland, garfield, maguire hehe

the droplets of rain pitter pattered onto peter’s suit and he shivered from the biting cold. the combination of water and fifty two degrees. he sniffed and rubbed his nose. “wish i had read the weather report before i went out.” he thought aloud to himself. early in the game he realized no one could hear him when he was perched on the corner of rooftops. it was safe to let that little voice inside become vocal. everyone had one. everyone talks to themselves. he likes to think it helps him organize. realistically, it’s less lonely.

ah, aloneness. he used to covet it. the isolation. it was quiet and safe, and he knew himself best. he didn’t have to talk to anyone. no one talked to him.

“god, i’m gonna go crazy.” peter aimed and swung away, looking for trouble.

he dialed. he waited. she picked up. “yuri? tell me you have something,”

“uh… no. not right now anyway. you’ve pretty much cleared up the last of the loose ends, spider-man. nice work.” her tone was refreshingly grateful, but his heart sunk with disappointment. he needed some action, itching for it. if he had ever been addicted before, he would recognize this as a need for a fix. something had to get his adrenaline pumping. yuri realized the silence. “what? you only answer to ‘spider-cop’ now?” she taunted. peter didn’t take the bait unusually. “hey, is there something wro—?”

“thanks anyway, yuri. gotta go.”

“um, ok—“

he hung up and landed on an edge. he groaned to the sky, as if he needed to tell it his frustrations. he should be happy to go home, have a night off. but he just felt stuck. and restless. he raised his arms, level to his shoulders, stretching out his chest. “breathe, spidey, breathe.” he closed his eyes. inhale, hold, exhale. he tipped backward, falling. inhale, hold, exhale. in perfect form, he flipped. over and over again. when did i get used to this much g-force? how has my head not been bashed in by a ledge? how many times can i flip before i forget which way is up? inhale, hold, exhale.

you.

peter’s eyes opened. he saw the world familiarly, zipping by him. it was too much. he shut them again. and in the comforting darkness, you returned, like a dream. you were an imprint on his brain.

“peter,” you cooed lovingly, “why don’t you come over, peter? you never visit me anymore.”

he opened his eyes. the ground was growing increasingly nearer, faster than he remembered it could. oh, but he couldn’t let go of you now. not yet. he squeezed them closed, desperately grasping onto the cusp of this new fantasy.

“i’m getting tired of waiting for you, peter~” you growled, disguised as a humble murmur, and you sank deeper into the cushions of the bed. your impatience poisoned him. he wanted to please you.

but you were just so irresistible, pouting or not. he took notice of how he pictured you. wearing a lavender silk nightgown that ended high on your thigh, with dangling strings of bows and dainty mesh.

god her nipples are hard.

your eyebrows raised as if you heard his thoughts and he felt blush heat up his cheeks. embarrassed, until your eyes wandered down his abdomen, landing on his clothed sex. “guess they’re not the only ones that are hard, huh?” you got on her hands and knees, and his pants tightened; frozen in place as you crawled towards him. he knew he’d start stuttering by now if this was real. blubbering as he helplessly watched you undo the buckle of his pants. “but you know what’s even harder, peter?” you asked him in a whisper, raising yourself properly on your knees so you could ghost your lips over his.

he leaned into you, chasing your mouth. “what?” he replied in a murmur, determined to silence you with his kiss.

you lingered a moment, gaze flickering from his eyes to his lips. your hand grasped his length and peter’s breath hitched in his throat. “the ground when you don’t pull up.” you lulled. he hesitated, drawing back.

“what?”

your voice rang clear, resounding in his skull like a bell. “pull up, peter. pull up!”

“woah!” he opened his eyes just in time, webbing an edge at the last second before he flattened on the pavement like a real bug. his fingers curled around the ledge and he pulled himself up to sit, breathing hard. he pushed the air from his lungs in a huff, going limp and laying on his back on the rooftop. he picked up his phone.

there was nothing on your snapchat story besides your cat. instagram too. you weren’t busy.

yea, you weren’t busy. not really. you were watching the second princess diaries movie because you felt like getting your heart squeezed by chris pine. however, it wasn’t occupying your thoughts like you hoped it would.

a ding from your phone alerted you to a text from a friend.

i left my dress at your house :,(

you furrowed your eyebrows, responding promptly.

your dress honey? which one?

it’s black. goes down to the thigh i think

you stood up from your lazy boy and took a look around.

where’d you leave it babe?

im guessing bathroom?? it was last saturday. i crashed at your place after My Night Out On The Town™ & borrowed some of your clothes to sleep in

you stepped in and turned the bathroom light on. you didn’t see it.

oh right ! the simpsons tshirt i was wondering where that got off to

i think im gonna keep it

you keep that i keep the dress

fair enough sugar plum. we make the trade at midnight. deal?

deal. i’ll see u at midnight, im sure i’ll find your dress by then

thank you my dear!!

you smiled. she’s sweet. you pocketed your phone and kept an eye out. sure enough, the dress was thrown haphazardly over a chair. you almost didn’t recognize it blending in with your clothes but this was definitely something she’d wear. you held it out in front of you by the straps, examining it for stains when you noticed how cute it looked.

damn. well i’m sure she won’t mind i try it on a second. you thought.

so you peeled off your pajamas and shimmied on that dress. it really was cute. spaghetti straps and a deep v-neck. made your girls pop too. you turned around and stretched the material taut over your ass. “shit, girl, you look good.” you remarked.

a moment passed of admiring yourself. “well, i have to complete the look.” before i have to give it up. your fingers hooked into the bands of your stilettos and you grabbed a shawl with melodramatic potential from your closet. it added but it didn’t complete. so you tapped the palette with your brush and dusted your eyes, “god, forgive me for wasting good makeup on a night in.” you said through a funny, concentrating expression.

it was a worthy sacrifice. you shouldered the shawl and checked yourself out in the mirror. you were nearly there. what was missing? you discarded the shawl, it was no longer working. your eyes trailed from your painted toenails over your shaved legs and good boob day to your hair.

my hair…

so you pulled and twisted and bobby pinned but it just wasn’t right. undoing what you had done, your hair unraveled into accidental perfect little curls. if you kept still, you could keep those perfect little curls around a while longer…

no. better use hairspray.

to get the proper experience, you rushed over to your full length mirror in the living room. safe to assume, you were stunning. you hardly recognized you. “oh, my god. oh, my god!” you strutted, posed. “yes.” you stuck another one. “oh, yes.” and another. “really feel it, babe, look at you!” you twirled, pretending to be your own photographer, praising your modeling.

you tried to sit in your lazy boy in an intimidating, temptress sort of way. claws placed purposefully on the arm rests, your legs crossed over one another. you embodied seductive villainy. you felt hot like one. bad. it felt so… good. “you’re killing it.” you flattered yourself, but it was hard to take yourself seriously when you were sitting in cushioned leather. you needed a real throne. in the meantime, you didn’t think twice about having more fun.

“ah! spider-man, baby, i’ve been expecting you.” you cooed. you pursed your lips in thought; that was way too cliché.

you spun on your heel, “spider-man?” you gasped dramatically, a hand over your chest in shock, the other, pretending to fashion an opera length cigarette holder, “in my living room? get out of town!”

your hand rested on the edge of a table, letting you lean on it for support as you twirled your glass in your hand, mixing it as if it was alcohol like brandy or something villainous like that. it was just sweet tea. “oh, spider-man. you’re here early.” you lulled, and took a seductive sip of your tea. slowly, letting your lips kiss the glass, and the smooth liquid to glide past them. you lowered it, leaving a red stain of lipstick. “care for a drink?”

you couldn’t help but smile as you checked yourself out one last time. your friend should be picking up the dress soon, so it was time to hang up the villain version of you and go back to sweatpants. maybe treat yourself to a little ice cream as a reward for looking so good. as a last hurrah, you winked at your reflection, “baby, you’re so hot i might just fuck you senseless myself.” you joked.

“i think that’s my job tonight.” a voice coming from behind you brutally awakened you from your trance and you yelped in surprise. you spun around and your arms wrapped around yourself on instinct, as if you were nude.

the blue and red of a friendly neighborhood superhero caught your eye. attached to the ceiling, the webhead hung, lightly swaying as he watched you with tempered anticipation. praying for a positive reaction. “hey, (y/n).” he tilted his head. “cute outfit. what’s the occasion? prom?”

“oh, shut up, perv.” you fisted the fabric of a pillow in anger, tossing it at him haphazardly, which he didn’t dodge.

“i deserve that.”

“how long were you watching? how long were you in my house?” you demanded, blush heating your cheeks. it was embarrassing, being caught red headed. you were just messing around, everybody does that. spider-man seemed to take notice of your blush, and crept toward you on the wall, stalking closer in a stance that reminded you of a cat readying to pounce… or more appropriately, a spider.

your skin tingled with anticipation, side eyeing him crawl closer. he faced the floor and picked up his legs keeping his fingers glued to the wall. in a model of peak human condition, he flipped over and skillfully lowered himself onto the floor. you gulped. he was so hot in that suit. he strode towards you but you didn’t back down. instead of stopping to tower over you, establish his dominance, he passed by you, saying, “i thought you liked me watching you.” which somehow made you feel even smaller. you swallowed again, staring at his back. those corded muscles rippling underneath that skin tight suit was enough to make you salivate. he was toying with you.

“that‘s not the point here and you know it.” you started again, feigning strength in your voice but it was failing you. he could hear that. you know he could.

he halted to gaze out of the open window to your balcony. “have you been waiting for me? you left the window open, i assumed it was an invitation.” he glanced over his shoulder. you couldn’t see the smile on his face. you felt the need to explain yourself, sheepish from the interruption of your dress-up game. “and in this outfit too? you didn’t want me to ruin it?” the question was laced with disbelief, as if it wasn’t a ploy you put on in order to lure him.

it was so hard to think when he talked like this. you swallowed thickly and set your drink down, unable to tear your eyes away from him. “it’s not my dress.” come to think of it, your friend was coming at midnight, you should stay vigilant for that. spider-man wasn’t bothered at all, offering a solution as easy as breathing.

“take the dress off then.” heat pooled in between your legs at the statement. when you couldn’t speak, he added something else, “the rest is yours right.” he bowed his head as he generously looked you up and down, “i recognize those heels,” he reminisced knowingly, surfacing the memory within you of wearing these during one of your escapades with him in the past. “the makeup is yours.” as he spoke, he sauntered closer, taking note of how your eyes were glued to the way his hips moved. his gloved hand came up to tangle in your hair, “this hair…” yanking downwards to force you to look up at his towering form. even in your black heels he was taller than you. lengthy, toned, and lean. this suit made you want to lick stuff off of him. “obviously yours. the jewelry— i was there when you picked this choker out.” his hand came up to hook his finger in the necklace, drawing a line underneath it absentmindedly. he resisted the urge to remind her his hands were her favorite choker. “you gonna take the dress off or should i? because baby, i’m getting tired of waiting.”

it had been so long since this scene was played out with you two, where he desired you enough to take the control away from you. it was invigorating, and lit a fire in your chest that drove you to listen. your hand reached behind you to grasp the base of the zipper, dragging it down in order to reach the zip, and tugging it slowly and smoothly, until you were able to push the straps off your shoulders. this has happened so many times, that the look of spider-man no longer bothered you. blank eyes only hid the brown ones underneath that held so much lust for you. it was exciting, not being able to see his face. the dress pooled around your legs, and you stepped out of it, kicking it to the side. because of your lack of planning, you didn’t pick out a cute set of lingerie. you were simply bare. naked and hot. at the sight of you, you heard spider-man exhale sharply. now it was your turn to move things along, “well? what are you waiting for?” it was breathless. vulnerable. a plea. in minutes, the hero had you begging for him all over again.

his hand came up to pinch the hem of his mask, about to lift it up over his lips. your hand halted his, fisting his suit after to get him closer as you told him quickly, “leave the mask on, dear god, leave it on.” without wasting a second, he stooped to pick you up by your thighs, bringing you over to your kitchen table to set your back onto it. one of your chairs was kicked out of the way causing it to skid. the spider was gearing up to eat you out like he’s been thinking about for hours. have you writhing and coming on his tongue over and over— but you were explicit. leave the mask on. his hand squeezed your thigh involuntarily at the thought, his other one running down from your clit over the opening of your sex causing you to whine. being patient was painful, so you curled towards him to guide his movements but he wouldn’t have it. snatching your wrist and pinning it next to your head. in a skilled maneuver he webbed it to the table, trapping that arm above your head. “hey!” you called, but he ignored you, smacking your pussy to cause you to keen. “baby, i need your fingers, i need you, i need something,” you were desperate, surprised at yourself that he could goad such a response from you with nothing but a few words and a dry spell. he granted you friction, circling your clit with his finger.

“oh, you need something, alright,” he told you, alternating giving your clit attention, and plunging a finger inside of you to tease you further. frustrating you was in order, after everything you’ve done to him since the last time you two got together. “all those pictures, and those texts,” he groaned. images of your new bikinis, new bras and panties in red, your perfect tits in candlelight or your toys playing with your wet pussy. “you need a good, hard fuck, don’t you?” he added another finger, and another, feeling you loosen like putty in his hands. you nodded feverishly, filthy sounds pouring from your mouth now that he was curling his fingers inside of you. “oh, c’mon, angel, say it. you’ve been waiting for me so impatiently, now that i’m here, you can’t even tell me you missed me? that you wanted me here?” you cried at this words, unable to open your eyes when they were rolled so far back in your head as he abused that spongy spot inside of you. it was so sudden, no prep, and he was expecting you to have coherent thoughts, and then speak them. it was too much.

you tried. you tried really hard. “yes. yes,” you agreed, “please don’t stop.” his pace didn’t falter, he liked that you were responding, and he loved knowing how hard it was for you to respond. his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he eyed yours, parted in sinful pleasure, awaiting a kiss to swallow your moans. this mask thing was so hard, but so enticing. “c’mon, spidey, i wanna come on your fingers.”

“no way.” he told you, enthralled at the idea of denying you for all of your terrible teasings while you two were apart. at the words, you picked your head up to look at him with such a delicious, crestfallen countenance. he wished to savor it a little longer, but he couldn’t pass up another chance to bully you, “i’m gonna edge you like you wouldn’t believe,” you whined in protest, but he was busy, paying attention to your clit, and when you tried to close your legs, his hand pushed your thighs apart harshly, “oh no no no,” he said with a malicious laugh, “don’t give up now, sweetheart, don’t you wanna make me proud?” it was such a mean thing to say, and it made the coil in your belly tighten regardless. he had you where he wanted you, “can you believe this is only two fingers?” he snickered, and your only free hand reached for him lazily. “don’t make me tie down this one too.” his wanting was punctuated by adding another finger inside you, and you cried out at the feverish pace.

“god, peter, please!” there it was. his name. he didn’t even have to tell you to say it this time. he wondered if that sullied the illusion of the spider-man roleplay, but you didn’t seem to mind too much. your back arching off the table. he could feel you clenching around him like a vice, but you were so wet he was able to maintain his cadence.

his voice dripped with false sympathy, “you gonna come, baby? c’mon, angel, are you?” he demands your answer, and you can only nod, your face contorted in rapture. that was his cue to slow down, which made your frustrated noises all the more satisfying, attempting to grab at his wrist in order to fuck yourself. that earned you complete denial, and he slipped his hand out from you, leaving your pussy throbbing, dripping all over your kitchen table.

“you’re being so mean,”

“you like it.” he rounded the table and drew your free arm to him, successfully webbing it down to match your other restraint. like a bitch in heat, you reflexively moved to dip your head over the edge of the table, opening your mouth as you eyed his pants. you were asking to suck him off. the act was so devious, he gave in immediately, hooking his thumb in the hem of his pants and freeing himself, his other hand tangling in your hair to help guide his leaking cock to your mouth. he would never admit how much he loves this position. watching your straining throat, the vibrations of your grateful hum around his cock, your tits bouncing with each of his movements that made him lean over to clutch one of them, earning another one of your moans. he exhaled, finding it much harder to compose himself, “you are so damn good at that,” he crooned as your tongue swirled around him just how you knew he liked. when you gagged he pulled out to let you catch your breath, a string of his precum mixed with your saliva connecting your mouth and his cock. as soon as you reached for him again, he obliged, and to show his appreciation, his fingers returned to your neglected sex, filthy sounds pouring from the both of you. it was music to his ears.

you needed more, and once he noticed your change in pace, he took it as his hint to move on. panting, you looked up at him with such a drunken content face, once perfect makeup smudged, he felt like coming all over it. your tongue came out to lick your lips and he wished he could kiss you. a second he lingered, but got a hold of himself, ripping apart his webbing entrapping your arms like string. his hand at the back of your head aided in helping you up. “i know you said you would edge me more but can we do that after we—“ you started, stepping onto a chair while he circled the table, pulling you up from the surface so you could safely walk down. immediately, you were in his arms again.

“after we fuck? yes.” he finished for you, and by his tone it seems your little ploy of getting his dick in your mouth again worked its endless wonders once more in getting what you wanted. you grinned, and kissed him over his mask to his surprise. he felt your lips mold into his through the thin fabric, and he figured this was good enough, his fingers digging into the plush of your ass in desperation. thinking of everything he could do to you on his day off. out of instinct, he began to part his lips to play your tongue with his but had to stop himself when there was a barrier.

once your lips detached, you were free to say, “where do you want me?” but you already had an idea. it was confirmed when he whipped you around, bending you over the table again. you laughed breathlessly, your tits squished underneath you, feeling the coldness of the wood. it was obvious this was one of his favorites when you wore heels because now your entrance lined up perfectly with his—

“i’ve missed you so fucking much,” he confessed, unable to wait any longer to plunge his aching cock into your silken folds. it was too much to bear, causing you to clutch onto the table in delicious pain. he was so big it hurt in all the right ways, sliding against every inch of the inside of you. you were so wet, it allowed him freedom in his pace, your hole loosening in order to accommodate him. you rocked back into him with his thrusts to meet him, his hands on your hips providing a support. you moaned his name, causing him to reach forward and push your head down onto the table, your cheek resting against it. you whimpered as he continued fucking into you with reckless abandon. clearly, he did miss you. and you missed him so dearly. your fingers weren’t as long as his, your dildo was nothing compared to him. this scene he’s created as been so enjoyably rare, you loved every second of him taking control this time, taking what he wanted.

you couldn’t answer him, instead greedily taking what he was giving you, he praised you, “i love this pussy, baby, you’re taking me so good. i love filling you. you’re so hot bouncing on my cock like this,” it made you work harder, fucking yourself back onto him, and getting more force from him in return. the pace was unimaginable, you were screaming with his thrust. his tip repeatedly kissing your cervix in a way that made your toes curl and your legs shake. that coil in your core was back and worse than ever, making you beg.

“don’t stop, please, whatever you do, peter, don’t stop,” you ordered, tears seeping from your eyes onto the table as you closed in on finishing. he couldn’t help but squeeze one more position out of you before that happened, guiding your back to him by your hair, sending pleasant tingles shooting down your spine as he blew your back out. his hand enclosed itself around your throat as the new angle reinvented your idea of pleasure, a chain of screams emitting from you. everytime he did this to you, he made sure you could never close your mouth.

“you like that, baby? how do i feel?” holding the ability to speak over your head would be cruel, if you couldn’t hear how close he really was in his voice. his movements were becoming more erratic, and he couldn’t keep himself quiet either. the position he had you in gave you a front row seat to his breath on your ear, and gift wrapping his whines in perfect packaging that had you reeling.

“so good, spider-man, you feel so fucking good.” he had such an exploitable kink for his superhero name, keening himself in a way that caused you to moan loudly, “i love hearing you, baby,” he listened to you, letting every sound spill from his lips.

“you close? i can feel you. i can hear your heartbeat, smell you. tell me.” he spoke over the sopping sounds of your pussy and the snapping of his hips against your ass.

“i am, yes i am, i’m gonna come,” you admitted, the last word resounding in a pitchy whimper, making him groan.

“do it, c’mon, baby, come all over me,” his hand attached to the arm around your middle moved down in order to rub circles into your clit that made you tremble in his arms. you didn’t have to be told twice to let go, feeling the warmth of you drip down your thighs. to get him to stop putting too much pressure on your clit, you had to put his hand over his, waiting for him to follow your lead and come inside you. he fucked your wetness back into you with fervor, tensing up and no longer keeping pace. his eyes squeezed shut behind his mask, and you felt his seed flood inside of you as he let it go, moaning in relief. it trailed down your thighs along with your own. his forehead fell onto your shoulder as he moved until he was too sensitive.

“spider-man,” you say in surprise, “you’re so dirty for a super-hero,” he chuckled at that, pulling himself out of you and ripping his mask up off his face, revealing his familiar face and his grin. he was so happy to see you, and when you faced him fully he took you up in his arms. you were at a loss to how he still had energy to pick you up, and you squealed.

“c’mon, let’s go take a shower,” he threw you over his shoulder and you cried out again.

“peter!”

“what? we should really clean up so i can get started on that edging i promised you.” he told you, your hands at the base of his torso to keep yourself up. you eyed the back of his head.

“my friend is going to be here any minute, and i have to return that dress.”

your friend knocked, and after a second, you opened it wearing an oversized t-shirt. “hey, hon!” you greeted, and she took note of your appearance. disheveled hair, frizzy with knots in your curls. black makeup smudged under your eyes, running down your cheeks. if you had thought to fix it before opening the door, you would’ve.

“rough night?” she asked slyly, her meaning shining through with her mischievous glance.

your eyes widened, and you sheepishly muttered, “you could say that.” you handed her the dress. “thanks again.” she handed you your simpson’s t-shirt.

“no problem, sweets.” your friend replied, tossing the dress onto her shoulder like dishrag and waved good-bye. you closed the door, pressing your back against it with a sigh of relief. you heard the shower running, and pete’s voice calling for you.

“you coming?”

“coming!”

[ctommy-chileno]

Here's a list of some ongoing fanfictions I've been following if you want some literature

(Ongoing as in. Updated in the past month or this month)

Butterfly Reign: You know this one, it's the angst full and oddly yellow one. I always end up finding out it updated a day before it released how does that keep happening?. It's a good read, the characters get deeper the more you read it, and yet even with all their hidden lore and ok ish intentions I still want them to suffer because I'm a spiteful bitch. Unreliable narrator to you I believe him.

In the name of the fucking moon: Its a magical girls AU with the benchers and the family, more on the old school monster of the week type of magical girls but with continuity. If you imagine the scenes in your head while reading please add an 80's anime filter over it. Fun to read 👍 I got halfway through and I'm waiting for it to finish so I can binge it.

Guided evolution: Only read this if you have a lot of free time or the time management skills of a lawyer because this here is 300.000+ words and incredibly good. Every chapter I do nothing but worry for my spider son. Hasn't he been through enough I ask, while seeing I'm on chapter 52 out of 75. I know the answer, and it only serves to hurt me.

How to be the biggest trainer ever: Crimeboys go in a pokemon adventure. A very friendly fun read, like the pokemon anime but with your favourite white boys having fun 👍the world is set on gen 1 I think, so use that soundtrack

The stars and their children: Ive only read till chapter 5 and that's enough to know its good (also the fact that I follow the author here on tumblr so I get spoiled every once in a while hehe) This one is more sandduo focused and it has cool sci fi monarchy and it's also very near to end?? I didn't know that. Guess I'll get up to date then. Star tommy did nothing wrong I haven't seen him do much of anything but if he does in the other 19 chapters be aware he did nothing wrong

By the morrow: this one is weird and interesting in the most enticing way possible. What the fuck is going on. I must know all the reasons behind what is happening here. It can be quite macabre so be aware. I only found this one because the author posted the updates to tumblr. Oh yeah the synopsis, superhero au where the ctommy is a nobody who dies and fucks around the town in his ghost form but shit hits the fan incredibly quickly.

Who the ever loving fuck made me a prince: Its an Isekai yipee, our main boy (el ctommy) reads a book where a kid prince dies. L. Then he wakes up as that same kid!!! Oh no!!! Good news is he's reincarnated right in baby zone so he has plenty of time and skill to make sure won't die 👍, its fun, if you like isekais and don't mind some anime trope baby ism then you will live another day

Proof that life hates tommyinnit personally: This is a mystery!!! Spooky!! With touches of angst, perhaps more than some touches but hey the thrill!! The search!! I enjoy the use of the "it's not paranoia if they're really put to get you" tag. Its one of those fics that if it ever gets dropped I would go to the authors house to ask how was it supposed to end. I need. To know. Oh yeah summary: el ctommy is homeless and has many friends in a local mall who don't know that. This is only one (1) of his problems as he's recently gained a stalker, and everything points to being someone he knows ?? Question mark?? Fun.

TommyInnit's Declassified Vigilante Survival Guide: Ah a good old vigilante fic, just like mama used to make. it checks all the marks: benchtrio living together, villain sbi, when the family is founded, heroes yet bad?? and introducing a cool new power to the boy, what a joy! It is funny and it is cool

Our love it's like a burning sun: you've heard of racconinnit, birdinnit, ratinnit, cat shifter innit, possumi- hm I haven't heard that actually, anyways get ready for Red Panda innit, here's a red panda shifter who runs away from mean kingdom and goes to nice kingdom where he can find some family. And sometimes that's all you need to face the horrors

Thunder on my bones: ANOTHER superhero au listen man this one is good trust me. We have superhero boy being sidekick to mean superhero then gets moved to nice family of superheroes and the family is found :)) but also there's villains that want to fuck him up , uh oh! How will they found the family in this conditions! I also really like the design of the tommy superhero outfit, it has a really nice detail that I love imagining in my head ^^

There are more but these are long and easy to get into