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stealingyourbones · 22 days ago

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Zeta Beams are a very finicky and powerful technology that require specific conditions to work properly.

Being shot with an unknown ray from one of Lex Luthors guns mid zeta was not one of those conditions.

Superboy, reappearing out of the zeta beam, now dazed and confused, stumbles and leans against the closest solid object and takes in his surroundings.

He’s in a lab of some sort, and whoever used it knew a wide variety of sciences. Chemistry equipment consolidated to one corner of the room while a mildly cluttered bench of mechanisms, welding equipment, and doohickeys take over another corner of the room. The entire workplace was bathed in a toxic green light coming from…

Kon turned and gawked at the massive swirling green vortex and pushed off the metal edge of the tear in reality that he had been leaning on.

His mind was running miles a minute. He was meant to be at the Watchtower and he’s here in some windowless laboratory and a portal that looks like something straight out of science fiction. He doesn’t know what to do but all of his scrambling thoughts screeched to a halt the moment he heard footsteps and an unknown heartbeat coming down a set of stairs he hadn’t noticed on his quick scan of the room.

He should have flown to the ceiling and hid or used his X-Ray vision to identify the threat but he was reeling so badly he just stood frozen in place, a foot or two away from the portal casting a long shadow that cut through the violently green glow.

A man in an orange jumpsuit barrels down the stairs with- is that a bazooka?

The orange wall of a human man whipped around the barrel to face him. “DIE GHOST!”.

“I’m sorry what?”

Kon didn’t get a verbal answer but he sure as hell got a physical one. The man pulled the trigger and a glowing green bullet of *something* shot towards him. Kon momentarily debated dodging out of the way with his super speed but thought better of it. Robin would tell him to stay still and show the threat that he couldn’t be harmed to shut down the fight before it could escalate any further.

Blocking his face from debris, Kon closes his eyes and lets the projectile make contact.

He expected to be thrown back into the strange vortex portal thing or feel the impact, but to his surprise he felt absolutely nothing. Whatever glowing green and white metallic stuff he was hit with, he was completely invulnerable to as a half Kryptonian.

(It is at this point where I sped the writing along to bullet point outlines)

- Kon goes hey wtf man I’m not a ghost

- Jack doesn’t buy it it might be a ghost trick.

- Jack slowly walks up to Kon with a Fenton bat.

- Kon stares at him arms crossed. He knows now he can’t be hurt

- Jack, making full eye contact with Kon and goes ‘you can’t fool me ghost’ or something and hits him over the head with the bat.

- Bat shatters over Kon’s head as Kon stares at him and does a “are you done?”

- as he says this Jack Fenton slowly raises a lipstick lazer

- Jack turns on lazer and Kon glares at Jack exasperatedly.

- Kon’s patience runs out. He grabs the lazer from jacks hands and crushes it in his palm.

- I’m not a ghost man. I was trying to zeta to the watchtower and now I’m here now can you stop??

- Jack doesn’t understand what those words mean. Mutters that this might be a fascinating new discovery and goes over to the tech corner

- Grabs a tsa metal detector wand looking thing and waves it over Kon, who hasnt moved and is now curious to see what this man will do knowing now that he can’t be hurt. (Later found that this universe boosts his powers a tad which is making him More Invulnerable)

- It beeps and jack looks at it and his face of confusion turns to a massive grin. He turns towards the stairs and shouts to Maddie that they have a extradimensional non ghost guest and to move the ghost gear out of the guest room.

- Kon is like what the shit why did this mans attitude chanhe so much

- kon is then temporarily housed by the Fentons whilst they are delighted to start on a new big project. they plan to make an addition onto the ghost zone portal to find the frequency of other dimensions and make a gateway between them using Kon as the tuning fork to find his dimension.

#fuck you *curcumvents your adoption trope* /j #bones prompts #dpxdc #danny phantom #dp x dc #I hope this post does well it has a lot of potential.

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splataii · 10 months ago

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toji x male reader

cw: dom male character, sub male reader,

wc 1.5k

freeloader toji who likes to pop in at your place n take a load off whenever he’s in the mood.

no text, no call, no nothing. just him showing up to sleep on your bed, watching his shitty tv shows on your couch after draining your fridge for everything it's worth.

you don't get no chance to say no cause he's way too busy telling you just what an absolute angel you are as he slips through your door. you won't even know he's there, promise. but it’s hard for him to keep such a promise when he’s such a terrible roommate.

he walks around half naked like he owns the place, sweatpants falling so low around his waist that his dick threatens to fall out with every step he takes..

when he feels like being more annoying than usual, he hangs around you, leaning against doorways and faking a yawn or two to stretch so you can catch the outline of his dick, and the way his body flexes.

it makes it hard to look him in the eyes when you're telling him to pull his own weight for the millionth time that week, and he knows it.

“you got a staring problem or what?” he teases, following the way your eyes trace down to the dick print in his loose grey track pants. guys like you are just way too fuckin easy. too flustered to finish, you let him off with a simple warning before leaving him be. but what he really wants is to force ya to quit talking his ear off by getting you on your knees and shoving his cock down your throat. maybe then he could finally put that mouth a yours to good use.

toji also gets so heated about the smallest things, moving you out the way so he can be the one to answer the door to all your one night stands and potential future boyfriends. taking way too much pleasure in how they shrink in on themselves when he sizes them up from the doorway, being terribly sweeter than normal to you with all his pet names and touchiness. it seems like his hand stays glued to your waist no matter how much you pry him off a you.

everytime another guy runs with his tail between his legs, you're pointing the finger at toji, but that man couldn't care less. it’s not his fault they're too pussy. he knows exactly the type a man a doll like you needs and he can give that to you better than any of those little boys ever could.

what's more is he has no sense of personal space. it’s always, “i was just looking for something,”

when he hovers so close you can feel his smile on your neck while you all bent over in the fridge, caged between his arms as his bulge rubs against the small of your back.

or “an accident” when he’s spreading out on your already too small couch and practically forcing you onto his thigh, subtly grinding you against it everytime he moves as his hand slips around your waist and under your shirt. he’s just tryna consolidate space, honest. it ain't his fault he's as big as he is. and it's definitely not his fault you’ve got such a dirty little mind.

and he's such a mess.. clothes, dishes, everything. you find them scattered just about all over the place. the worst offense, however, was a discarded package laying on your living room table. a fleshlight, you realized seconds too late, toji making his grand entrance the moment you're shutting the box closed.

you can tell by the shit eating grin on his face that playing it cool won't cut it, but you try anyway, pretending to get back to tidying up the table as he inches up close behind you.

“i don’t mind sharing,” he breathes, hand hovering on your waist a second too long as he reaches around you for his box, “if you let me watch,”

you stay still, waiting for him to laugh it off and turn back around, but he stays leaning over you.

“youre such a…”

“i’m such a what?” he tilts his head, hand subtly sliding down to the waistband of your pants, massaging where it meets your warm skin. he's rubbing in circles, fingers gently raking up and down your side till they're slipping under your pants.

your eyes trace the veins on his hand as you feel him squeeze at your bare thigh, your underwear hitching farther up as his thumb presses close against your clothed dick. your mind spins every time you feel him inching closer to your soft cock, taking in the thought of him pulling you back into his lap and sliding your pants to your knees so he could take care of you like you deserved. mind falling away, you let yourself lean back into his chest, your hand firmly placed on his arm to ground yourself.

“..or i can always give you the real deal,” he hums your breathe hitching as he gropes at your growing bulge, his words hot on the skin of your neck as you feel his hardening dick grinding against the curve of your ass, “if, that's what his highness prefers,”

you can feel the smirk on his lips as he presses a kiss against the side of your neck, and you blink away whatever trance he had you in.

“dickhead,” you mutter, slipping out of his arms and away from him, pretending not to notice his eyes trained on you as you break away. not once does that stupid smile leave his face as he watches you leave him and his half hard cock alone in the living room.

and that's he worst part of it all.. the worst part a him.. how smug he fucking gets. no matter how much you tell him off, no matter how much he teases you, he knows you can’t never stay mad at him for long. just a few touches in all the right places, a couple spoken promises, and you're like putty in his arms.

it don't matter how much tension you got pent up from his antics; at the end of the day, you're his. and he's always gonna be there to relieve that stress for you the best way he knows how; by bending you over whatever surface is nearest and railing you till you can't think of anything but the shape of his dick stuffed down your ass.

“i was so lonely last night, yknow that?” tojis cock drills into you as you do your best to keep upright against the couch, “left me hard in the living room. had to take care of it all by myself,”

but you been knew that. he made no effort to hide it seeing how loud he was yesterday. you could hear him groaning your name and all the ways he wanted to have you from the comforts of your own bedroom, body hot as you kept your thighs pressed together, waiting for him to finish.

the moment you were back from your shift he was on you, pressing open mouth kisses as he made quick work of stripping you down. he had been waiting for what felt like ages to have all of you underneath him like this, so sweet and pliant in his arms, leaning into his heavy hands. coming undone at his every touch.

“what, nothing to say?” he grunts, grip on your waist tightening as you clench around him, sucking him back in with every thrust, his hands pulling your hips to fuck back into his, “or are you gonna let this ass do all the talking?”

you shake your head, helplessly grinding against the back of the couch as he splits you open on his dick.

“‘s too much,” you cry in between broken moans, burying your face in the nearest pillow in an attempt to hide how good he feels inside you. but he comes to a slow harsh grind of his cock, hands running all up your sides until they're resting on your shoulder.

he pulls you out of your pillow, forcing you to hear the lewd sound of his cock pulling out and leaving you empty. toji grunts, your tight hole not wanting to let go before its clenching around nothing, his pre dripping down the curve of your ass and off your thighs.

you do your best to stay steady on shaky arms, desperate whines muffled by your own hands as you feel him lining up again.

“you can take it sweetheart,” he rasps before ramming back into you, your ass spasming at the harsh thrust of his cock as he stuffs you full. your hand falls away from your lips, unable to hide the moans he rips from you as he pulls out and forces his cock into your ass again and again, making sure that the only thing your body will be able to remember is the shape of him inside you.

“that's it, doll,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss at the tears threatening to fall from your eyes as his strong arms keep you upright, “now let me hear you,”

#splataii writes #ummm so ig it wouldnt be too bad if he stuck around #bottom male reader #male reader insert #male reader smut #x male reader #sub male reader #dom male character #top male character #male reader #toji fushiguro #toji x male reader

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void-my-warranty · 3 months ago

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𝐀𝐱 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟓 - 𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick/Fem Reader Zombie apocalypse AU (all parts here)

CW: Death, gore

You’re so shocked by the sudden contact on your lips that all you can do is jerk away at first, stumbling back a step and trying to process the fact that he just kissed you.

Gaz makes no move to pursue. He meets the stunned outrage on your face with that icy, dark gaze of his, and then ignores you entirely to tuck a cigarette between his lips.

“Don’t ever do that again,” you threaten in a low whisper. There’s a mortifying burn lingering on your skin where his mouth touched you.

He’s just finished coaxing a flame out of the lighter, and regards you over the first red embers of his cigarette. “You haven’t got your supplies sorted, have you?”

“I’ve—“ you square your shoulders, irritated that he’s somehow sensed your failure. “I’m almost done.”

“You’d better hurry…” smoke curls around his face as he softly breathes it out, raising his eyebrow at you and adding, “…wife.”

A sizzle of rage gets added to the churning hatred deep inside you, but you don’t dare make a move to knock that stupid thing out of his mouth like you want to. You have to be smart, because you do need your supplies. You need to be able to leave and never see him, ever again.

“Goodbye, Gaz,” you tell him for the last time, securing your backpack onto both shoulders.

The smug bastard has no idea what you mean, or course. For all he knows, you’ll be hanging around like an idiot, today, tomorrow, and every day after.

With a jerk of his chin towards the door, Gaz dismisses you with an exasperated, “Fuck off.”

So you do.

You turn your back on that miserable prick, and get to work on what matters.

You’re grateful for that chance encounter. It spurns you on, makes you remember the reason you’re here in the first place, and it’s not to sit around and be nostalgic about your past life. Today, it’s your job to escape the control of men once and for all.

You get lucky, soon after. Someone who lived at the next house must have been a planner, because you find four unopened boxes of tampons tucked away in the back of a cabinet. Normally you’d be gleeful at the find, but all you feel now is righteous determination. This is your day. You just need some food, a lighter, and some warm clothes, and you can leave these weasel men to their weasley ways.

It’s going to work out.

“Consolidate supplies here,” Doran orders, setting a small jug of gasoline on the grass. You’re not really sure why he has it, but you don’t dare ask and draw unwanted attention to yourself at the moment.

It was just plain bad luck that allowed Tim to catch up with you right before you could sneak away. The jacket you found isn’t as thick as you hoped, but you did get some new boots that fit well, and thick socks. Maybe you’ll come across another town before too long, but for now, you just need to survive until nighttime, when you escape.

Regretfully, you unload all your beautiful food onto the pile — tinned fish, bean soup — things you were looking forward to eating as your first freedom meal. You’ll have to raid the food before you leave. Damn you, Tim.

You step back to give the others room to unload, so lost in your own planning that it takes Doran’s booming voice to shock you back to reality.

“You’ve still got a full pack.”

Confused, you look up to find that, yes, his eyes are locked on you. He’s talking to you, for some reason.

“I— uh, it’s just menstrual stuff.”

Before you can process the strange way everyone seems to be staring at you, Doran tips his head towards the pile. “Communal supplies.”

What?

You blink in confusion for a second, before Doran reaches over and rips your backpack out of your hands, dumping out your tampon boxes and a few fire starting tools.

“S-sir!” you protest, sputtering in your indignation. “I’m the only one with a vagina!”

“Communal supplies,” he repeats evenly, thrusting your bag back into your arms without any further explanation. Doran holds your eyes in his steely gaze, daring you to question his authority in front of everyone. All of them are his men, apart from maybe one, and that one is not your friend.

An infuriating chuckle sounds from somewhere nearby.

In your absolute disbelief, you glance around the group for a second, trying to figure out if this is some tasteless prank. You’ve never had to fork over any hygiene products before. They’ve never even been mentioned, except to verify that you’ve got enough.

Gaz doesn’t even bother to meet your eyes, instead taking a large bite of some chocolate bar with a hideously bright wrapper, as if your human rights were the least of his concerns at the moment.

He did this. Gaz was the one who made you an outsider here, who changed all the rules and drove a wedge between you and your carefully-wooed leader. You can’t even stand to look at him now.

Disgusted, you zip up your empty backpack and retreat to the edge of the group. It’s dizzying how easily your earlier plans slipped right through your fingers. If Doran is mistrustful enough to confiscate your tampons, what else does he have in store for you? How many more trees will you have to sleep in before you can fucking leave?

You can’t leave, when you have no tampons. Your period starts in two days, and now you can’t even leave.

There is another option, you realize, helping to set up the temporary camp an hour later. The distance from the town is still pretty small, you could spend the night ransacking houses again in the dark, and just hope you can find everything you need all over again. It’s your only feasible option at this point, because you will not let yourself become some kind of slave, with more and more of your autonomy being stripped away every day.

So you bide your time. You chew on your stash of jerky as you help erect a tent over the supplies, because it looks like it’ll rain overnight. You don’t work diligently or quickly, because fuck them.

“Hey,” calls Nick’s voice from somewhere behind you, and you feel a lock of your hair getting playfully tugged.

Warily you turn to face him. “What?”

“Want to help me with firewood?”

His eyes are lazy and lidded, dropping to your mouth and staying there, with the camp ax dangling in his hand. Always a casual hold on the ax, but that can change so quickly.

On the other hand, you could really use an ally. If you can convince Nick to help you escape, maybe even run off with you, things could go twice as smooth tonight, and every night. Do you trust your own ability to manipulate him?

“Okay,” you agree, and then scowl when he steals a piece of jerky out of your hand and pops it in his mouth.

“Great,” he says through the mouthful, hand on your lower back to lead you towards the woods.

“Nick,” calls Doran’s hateful, horrible voice, making you grind your teeth in frustration.

“Yeah, boss?”

“She’s going hunting with Rich. We won’t need much wood, get going like I told you.”

Grumbling to himself about busybodies, Nick hooks his arm around your neck to give your cheek a solid kiss. “Sorry,” he whispers, before pulling away.

“It’s okay,” you whisper back. Maybe he would have conspired with you, but Doran is determined to keep you apart.

At least he’s paired you with Rich, and not Gaz. Rich isn’t exactly your friend, but he’s always been a safe option. Quiet, keeps to himself, and doesn’t leer. You scale your plans back to what they were five minutes ago, and mentally kick yourself for getting your hopes up over nothing.

Rich meets you between two trees, with a large knife on his hip and the compound bow slung around his shoulder. This is a new location, so there’s a decent chance he’ll take down something edible, even if it’s just a squirrel or two. Canned food is always a last resort these days.

“How’s it going?” you prompt, trailing behind him as he starts to move through the trees.

“Fine. Ready to be headed south.”

“I think we all are,” you murmur. Winter is coming whether you’re prepared or not. It’s your first winter in the elements, and memories of every survival show you’ve ever watched have been flipping through your mind, flashes of frostbite and starvation.

The last time you had a period, Rich was the one who would go into the woods with you, keeping a look out while you changed and buried your tampon. In fact, he’s been a pretty constant, safe resource for you, for a while. You start cursing yourself internally for overlooking that obvious alliance, in favor of Nick’s aggressive flirtation.

You stare at the back of Rich’s ponytail as you walk, calculating the trust you have for him. He’s doing his usual hunting routine, stepping carefully and scanning slowly each direction, bow in hand as he goes. You’ve been completely oblivious to any foraging opportunities, but that’s alright because you need to save your brainpower for scheming.

“I think we should split up,” he finally says, glancing back at you for just a second before looking away. “You’re making too much noise.”

“Okay,” you say automatically, coming to a stop as well, in the thick layer of fallen leaves.

“Okay.”

He seems to vanish into the trees in an uncharacteristic rush, and you’re just left standing there, wracking your brain for any other time he’s ever asked to separate on a hunting trip.

Never. Not once.

Goddamn it.

That familiar feeling prickles across your skin, the same warning of danger that you’ve felt since the first day that Gaz arrived. The trees are suddenly too still, the birds suddenly too quiet. Something is wrong.

You take a few quick steps in the opposite direction of the way Rich went, and again, dread sinks low in your belly, when you realize you’re running away. You’re running from a man with arrows.

God damn it.

For the second time that week, you sprint for your life. Half feeling like an idiot, and half feeling like prey, you take off as fast as you can, farther away from camp and deeper into the woods. You duck under branches and weave around trees for several minutes, looking around frantically for what you need—

There. An evergreen with branches low enough to get a foothold, if you take a running leap. Your foot sinks into a space between rocks while you plan your trajectory, but thankfully you’re not hurt. Mentally cursing yourself, you do a better job of mapping out your path, and then your legs pump as you fly over the leaves, and launch yourself at your safety tree.

You make it on the first try. Scrambling up the branches, you don’t stop climbing until you’re sufficiently hidden away behind the pine needles, and then you hug the sticky, papery trunk, and catch your breath as quietly as you can.

And then you wait. You wait a long time. It probably feels like longer than it is, but the sun is setting, and the forest remains artificially silent, and you’re still so afraid.

You oscillate between convincing yourself that you’ve made up an enormous pile of nothing in your own mind, and no one is actually out to get you. It’s normal to have delusions when everyone in the world turns into walking corpses, and you're left wandering the wilderness for months. You probably can’t even rely on your own perceptions anymore, with how paranoid you’ve grown.

Tampons. Splitting up. Gaz. You’re not delusional, surely. You haven’t been hallucinating these things, right?

A faint animal cry rings out, the creepy kind that owls make at night, but it’s not quite right. It cuts off just when you think you recognize it, and then the woods are blanketed with tight silence again.

The sun is setting, and you’re still stuck in this damn tree.

There’s been no sign of Rich, so when you land on the ground with a heavy thump, you prepare yourself to pretend you’ve just been lost all this time. If he hasn’t gone looking for you, it probably means he killed something decent for dinner, and he’s busy burying the blood.

You’re basically being the worst hunting-helper imaginable, so you decide that you’ve been exaggerating things in your own mind, and start walking in the general direction of the new camp.

Maybe you can’t trust your intuition every time. Maybe the wind has been playing tricks on you, making your skin prickle and your nerves stand on end. Maybe you’re just not used to being in the wilderness this time of year, and it’s making you imagine sensations that aren’t there.

The dreadful silence continues as you walk, trying to plan your next steps, but for some reason unable to think about anything but the danger. The arrows. The ax. They circle your mind like vultures, as if waiting for the singular moment when you drop your guard.

The sky is just light enough that you make out a larger sort of lump, a few minutes later. At first you think it’s an unusual boulder sticking out of the leaves, but soon your heart sinks as you recognize a human arm, bent at an odd angle. And then you see a familiar ponytail.

Shit.

Cursing aloud, you stumble to the form of your fallen companion, horrified the closer you get and the more blood you see. It’s definitely Rich, and he’s been viciously torn up.

How could you have missed the rotten smell of the biters? You whip your head around, sniffing and trying to discern any movement through the scattering of trees. Nothing.

Fuck, Rich. You can’t let him turn.

You find a serviceable rock about the size of your fist, and heave the corpse of your dead campmate over, to get a better angle at his skull.

Only to find it already spectacularly crushed in, with what appears to have been efficient, targeted blows.

A shudder of repulsion wracks your body as you finally glance around the leaves, and realize the horrible truth. There’s no knife on his body. No bow or arrows anywhere to be seen.

Rich was murdered.

And he was supposed to be with you.

Next Part

Dividers by the-aesthetics-shop

#call of duty #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #x reader #kyle garrick x reader #cod gaz #dinnertime #ax grinder

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