#But the noise level in the house getting bad again is another thing

[branzycrafted]

I can't autistic gayboy swag my way out of this one boys /cj

[itostea]

the strongest (gojo x wife! reader)

gojo can't help but feel annoyed that he feels concern for the wife he swears he doesn't care for.

warnings: arranged marriage au, gojo refers to you as his wife, enemies to lovers (?), gojo tells you to lift up your top, slight angst, he's really bad at feelings okay, image from loving yamada-kun at lv999 (part of gojo’s wife series)

The lines of intrigue and fear are often blurred. It explains why we admire fire from afar, careful not to get too close in hopes of not getting burned. It explains why we find peace in parts of the ocean and tense up in deeper parts. It also explains why Gojo Satoru seeks your presence yet pushes you away the moment he finds himself feeling something other than indifference or vexation–it’s never hatred though. The strongest can’t envision himself ever hating his wife and it scares him. 

He’s not sure that can be said about you. Gojo wouldn’t be surprised if you grew to hate him after the treatment you put up with. 

Your marriage is what you call a “marriage of convenience” and Gojo made sure you remembered that. He wasn’t always so distant with you. Back then, you might’ve considered him a friend but time did its bidding and you two drifted apart, your time together merely a memory. Now fast forward a few years and you were wedded to him, taking up his surname and sleeping in the same house as him–in separate rooms of course. 

Your steps on the wooden floors were silent as you intended not to make a single noise at such a late hour. You sighed, feeling the weight of your heavy shoulders drag you down. 

Gojo might be considered cruel to you but the elders were on a different level. They knew this mission would be too much for you yet they sent you on it as punishment for speaking your mind the last time everyone gathered. 

At that time, your husband had an unfamiliar gleam in your eyes as you voiced your thoughts on the matter of Itadori. He’s a nice kid, you thought when you first saw the pink-haired boy. 

Taking away his youth wouldn’t be fair. After all, he didn’t choose to have the Ryomen Sukuna use him as a vessel. Yet, sentiment doesn’t do well with the higher ups and they made sure you knew your place with the mission they sent you on. 

You inhaled sharply, wincing as you felt the bruise on your rib with your palm. There was blood soaking your tights, little cuts littering your legs. You’re so tired you can’t find it in yourself to even eat. Then again, you needed to be in your best condition tomorrow since another mission was sent out of you and specifically you. Those in power always make sure it’s clear that they are in power. Your voice of opinion meant nothing to their beliefs in tradition or what you liked to call, “backward thinking.” That’s one thing you and your husband could agree on. 

“Ow,” you wince for the nth time as you open the fridge, scanning the items. Mochi. Ice-cream. Leftover cake. Perhaps it would’ve been wiser to go grocery shopping a day prior so you could have a proper meal. This was the kind of stuff Gojo could live on but you couldn’t. Closing the fridge, you opt for instant ramen instead. Not the best choice in regards to healthiness but cracking an egg in there meant more protein and it also minimized the spice levels. 

You’re halfway in between preparing the noodles when you feel a presence right beside you and soft breathing besides your ears. “You’re home,” your ‘husband’ mumbles, his eyes half-lidded from just having woken up. 

“God! Satoru!” You gasp, flinching away from and only realizing how close he was. For someone who claimed he wasn’t interested in you, he didn’t know what personal space was. “How did you know I was home?”

“Your cursed energy leaked in,” he shrugs his shoulders, peering down at you without the constraints of his blindfold or shades. You gulp as his eyes flit up and down your appearance, causing your insides to tense up in a sudden wave of self-consciousness. Being scrutinized by the six-eyes himself wasn’t much fun and you’re suddenly aware of the fact that your hair is disheveled and your face is sweaty from just having come home from a grueling mission. 

You don’t even notice the glint of rage that crosses his hues before he masks it. “Who did this to you?”

“Huh?” You blink, coming to your senses that your body was bloodied up and battered from having fought a curse. “Oh it was just a mission. It’s normal to be hurt on missions.” 

Gojo’s been living with you for nearly half a year now and he knows you’re more than competent when it comes to shaman duties (not that he’d ever tell you). He knows you return home by 7 p.m.., and never at hours well past midnight. He knows that you usually only get injuries on your back because you get careless at times. But now, he sees cuts everywhere and he’s not sure if you’re running on adrenaline or if you’re too tired to notice. 

His eyes glance at the way you press a palm on your rib, subconsciously squeezing the area as if hiding it from him. “Let me see.”

Your surprise is immediate and he would’ve felt a strange fluttering in his stomach if not for this concern he was experiencing for you. You smile. “See what?”

“Your injury. Let me see it,” he says again, pressing on the hand you hold close to your ribs, narrowing his eyes as you hiss in pain. “Don’t be stubborn (Name).” 

His voice is different from the cheery one he often uses and you’re left leaning further into the kitchen counter, acutely aware of the fact that his taller frame wasn’t allowing you to escape. His eyes widen the slightest once he gets a glimpse of your flustered expression as you peer up at him and he only realizes what he was asking from you. Part of him tells him to ignore this and pretend his concern for you was brief. Yet, part of him screams at him that he was your husband, so he should feel the right to be worried–even if he was months late. 

He sighs, tilting his head. “I’m just going to look. I promise I won’t do anything else,” his voice is oddly tender as he speaks to you, a contrast to the usual nonchalance you’re used to. 

You gulp and let out a shaky sigh, giving in when your fingers reach to pull your top up for him to see the bare skin that you can’t even say is spotless or void of marks. Multiple wounds litter your skin–some faded, some new. You’re scared his gaze would show some signs of judgment or disgust but you’re left bemused when you see how his eyebrows furrow and his lips purse. For a second, you allow yourself to be deluded by the fact that he might be worried but you quickly abandon that thought, averting your eyes from him.

You can see how he pieces everything together. From the way you rebelled against the elders and how they saw it as a means to punish you. He does it so quickly that you can only blink when his blank expression morphs into something different. You almost feel relieved from the fact that his expression of pure anger wasn’t directed at you and rather those who sent you on the mission.

It’s almost natural how he slides the top further up, mapping the extent of the bruise with his eyes. His hands are warm and calloused. They’re also gentle, tracing the bruise carefully to not hurt you. “I’ll kill those old bastards,” he chuckles with a sneer. “They have some nerve letting my wife take this mission without me.”

You frown as you see his anger first-hand. “Satoru–”

“Why didn’t you go to Shoko?” He interrupts, gently holding on your waist to prop you on the counter while he stands in between your legs. He watches you intently, in search of answers.

You feel somewhat embarrassed as his hand still lifts your top up to see the bare skin but don’t comment on it. “I didn’t want to bother her so late at night…”

For the first time since today, you see him flash a genuine smile, as if exasperated by your reasoning. “But you’re fine with bothering me?” 

“That’s different!” You say, a pout slowly forming on your lips and he can’t help but feel drawn to you even if he doesn’t want to. 

He laughs as you pull your top down with a huff, finding it cute that you were so bashful. “Because I’m your husband?” 

You go silent and for a second, Gojo thinks he’s messed up for mentioning that. Despite being your husband, he’s not the greatest at doing his job. He’s not callous or spiteful towards you, instead taking on more of a cold and aloof attitude towards you. Even so, he thinks that hurts just as much as a few insults. 

He’s about to pull back but your voice draws him back to you. “Yeah. It’s because you’re my husband.”

Gojo can’t stop himself from glancing at your lips at that single statement. He was today years old when he realized he was a man of simple tastes. All you had to do was tell him that he was your husband and he’d want to kiss you until your lips turned red. He considers himself lucky that you didn’t see that slip-up of his–though he wouldn’t have minded if you did.

He breathes out a sigh, propping his chin atop your head while his fingers draw circles around your hips. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

It’s a vow he swears to keep. 

“I know,” you whisper quietly enough for him to hear. “You’re the strongest after all.”

He thinks it’s funny that even as the strongest, he feels weak when he feels your fingers play with his sleeves. No words are said after that and a comfortable silence drifts between you two. It’s like the barrier between the two of you is cracking once you feel his lips press gently against your forehead and you think it's his way of sealing the promise. 

Gojo Satoru thinks–or rather he knows that he wouldn’t mind living the rest of his life with you. And he knows that he should fix his behavior around you and stop running away. That way, instead of a kiss to the forehead, he can finally give you one on your lips. 

[incendiobrock]

Sleep Paralysis {Chris Sturniolo}

Summary: Chris struggles with bad nightmares and sleep paralysis, his girlfriend (reader) is there one night to calm him down after a bad dream. ⭐️Inspired by episode 19 of their podcast where Chris talks about his struggles with sleep paralysis and nightmares!!⭐️

Warnings: guns, mentions of death, sleep paralysis (nothing too descriptive!!)

The cabin was quiet, only the noise of the crickets chirping outside were heard through the walls. It was pitch black out, barely any stars shining through the cloudy sky. Chris walked through the halls in search of you. He poked his head inside the bedroom, the door creaking as it slowly opened into the vacant room.

Chris felt his heart pound against his chest as he realized that another room had been checked and you were still gone. Where the hell could you be this late at night? Chris thought about texting his brothers, maybe this one on one vacation wasn’t a good idea.

As Chris stood in the hall, right in front of the slight ajar bedroom door, a faint banging noise sounded from somewhere across the dimly lit cabin.

“Y/n? Is that you?” Chris called out, his eyes scavenging his surroundings. Slowly, he began walking towards the back of the cabin. The pounding of his heart was leaving him breathless as he struggled to retain any air. He stopped in his tracks when a low rumble of thunder caused the floors to shake.

“Fuck.” Chris mumbled under his breath, the power cutting out and leaving him in complete darkness, not that there was much light in this place to begin with. His hand dug into his pant pocket, fishing out his phone and bringing it up in front of him so he could use the flashlight. After a shaky breath, he made his way down into the basement determined to find the breaker.

The basement was cold and eerie, even more so than the rest of the building. The stairs squeaked on every step, the walls were stone and bare, and there were spiderwebs in every corner. Nobody in their right mind would ever go to the basement but Chris had to turn the lights back on so he could continue his search for you. You were more important to him than whatever could be lurking in the darkness of the basement.

Chris eventually found the breaker box which was tucked in the back corner of the foreboding basement, his hand was shaking violently with nerves as he tried to keep his phone flashlight still. He flipped the switch, the generator rumbled but the lights remained off. “Come on stupid thing, work will ya?” Chris cussed under his breath, flipping the switch again and again. Darkness still consumed the boy and his worries were becoming worse.

Chris slammed the breaker box closed with a grunt, shakily making his way back up the stairs to the main level of the cabin. When he found his way back into the living room he glanced out the window, looking down the long driveway to the house. His eyes squinted as he stepped closer to the glass, bringing his hand up to block any glare and get a closer look outside.

In the middle of the driveway you stood frozen in fear, a taller man, dressed in all black, with a mask over his face, held you tightly in front of his chest. A gun was pressed firmly to your temple. Chris immediately felt tears slide down his cheeks as his brain raced trying to think of what he could do to save you.

Without much thought, Chris was speeding towards the front door, throwing it open and making his way to the driveway. "Chris! Please help me!" Your voice shrieked, filling his ears with the unnerving sound of your quivering voice. He wanted to respond back, let you know that he was there and that everything was alright, but his mouth failed him. No matter how much he wanted to speak, he couldn't get out any words.

Chris continued to come towards you and the mysterious man, ready to push him off of you and hold you close in his arms. He wasn't ready to lose you. He had almost reached you when all of a sudden a loud boom echoed through the desolate forrest, your body falling to the ground in an instant.

"No!" Chris' body shot up in bed, his hand coming up over his chest as he heaved in some air. In an instant, you were awake beside him, startled by his scream and abrupt movements.

"Chris, baby- What happened?" You asked urgently, wrapping the boy in a hug and holding him tight as he clung onto you like a koala. His breathing was sporadic and you could feel his tears soak through your shirt as he nuzzled his head into your chest.

"He had you. There was a g-gun, you fell to the ground... Oh my God, I th-thought I had l-lost you." Chris said between sobs. Your heart tore listening to him cry. Since you had been together, you quickly learned that Chris had horrible, vivid, nightmares as well as sleep paralysis. He had told you numerous dreams that involved his closest friends and family dying.

"Shh baby, I'm right here. It was just a dream, I promise." You whispered, rubbing his back and trying to get him to calm his breathing. As you rubbed comforting circles on his back he began to relax, "Am I awake?" He whispered, looking up at you as you both sat in the bed. "You're awake, I'm okay." You replied, giving him a soft, reassuring smile. One of your hands reached up to wipe away some of his tears, showing him that you were really there.

Chris moved to lay back down, facing the bedroom wall. You laid back down too, beginning to spoon Chris. His long, wavy locks fell across his face before you started to run your fingers through it slowly, moving it out of the way. "Go back to sleep Chris. I'm not going anywhere, I love you."

"I love you more..." He said barely above a whisper, sleep taking over his body once again.

[alloftheimaginesblog]

holding on {alex karev}

plot: you and alex aren't friends but he's the person that sits by your hospital bed day and night until you wake up.

character: alex karev (early seasons) x reader

The steady beeping of the various machines was something that Alex had grown tired of two days ago, the machine's volumes had been turned to 0 but his anxious eyes kept flickering to them every few seconds just to be sure. The background noise of the hospital was something he was used to and it was an oddly comforting sound. Now, the silence of being in the room with you had been nice at first but now that he was here, with you, waiting... just waiting... the silence was unnerving him.

He tapped his foot, checking the clock on the wall. Bailey should've been here by now, she promised him that she'd check on you every two hours. She was late. Anger surged through his body causing his heart to pound and his fists to clench.

"You're such an idiot," he could hear you scolding him in his mind, "if you just stopped dealing with your problems with sheer anger then maybe, maybe people would actually start to like you."

He scoffed.

You and him had hardly been friends. You and the rest of Bailey's interns were the best of friends, all living together in Mer's mom's house so why wasn't George or Izzie or Cristina or Mer here? Why was it Alex? That's all the four of them had been whispering about. Cristina asked Alex, Izzie asked Alex... hell, Bailey even asked Alex. Alex had ignored each of their questions and instead gave some snarky asshole comment with an eye roll. Alex didn't even know why he was here - why he'd purposefully demanded the week off to be by your bedside day and night sleeping on a camping bed with the scratchiest sheets in the world. He didn't know and yet, here he was.

You were annoying. You annoyed him. But since the news of the accident and since you'd been in a coma, Alex couldn't stop thinking about the way you laughed as you teased him. He couldn't get one specific moment out of his head.

You and Alex had been working on a case together - much to your dismay - and Alex had opened up slightly, letting you see that he was much more than what you previously thought.

"So... you're not just an asshole with the emotional range of a teaspoon, who knew?" You helped yourself to the bar stool next to Karev. Joe glanced at you, asking if you wanted your usual to which you nodded.

Alex rolled his eyes, "Whatever."

There was silence for a few seconds before you tried again, "I know you have this hard 'I don't care' exterior," you started, "and I know it's probably because of some past trauma in your life, Karev - believe me we've all got some shit - but..."

"Are you gonna keep giving me a stupid high school girl pep talk or are you gonna shut up and drink?"

It was your turn to roll your eyes now, "Joe, another round please."

As Joe poured the two of you more drinks, Alex sighed and looked at you, "Thanks," he murmured quietly, "I'm not- I don't..." he cleared his throat, "I don't mean to be an asshole all the time... I don't really know... Social shit isn't really my thing."

"Now who's acting like an emotional high school girl?" You teased. Alex laughed, a genuine smile stretched onto his face. Yeah... maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

So after the accident, Alex stayed.

It was then Bailey strode in, chart in hand, "Karev," she said glancing up for a second, "you look like hell. Don't you think you should go home get a proper sleep? Take a damn shower?" She could see the worry in him, she could see how stressed out he was; the dark circles under his eyes, his nails chewed down. Alex might not even know it yet but he cared about you.

"I'm staying," he said with a nod standing to look over her shoulder at your chart, "Any updates?"

"You tell me, you're the one who's been here since she got admitted." Bailey moved to you, turning the volume up on the machines, checking your levels.

"Oxygen levels were a little low at 3am, managed to level them out... No issues since." He nodded, arms crossed with a hand rubbing at his jawline, "Why hasn't she woken up yet, Bailey? She should be-"

"Karev," Bailey said, voice strong, "Go get yourself a cup of coffee, now."

"I don't-"

"Now, Karev. Let me do my damn job and stop hanging over me. Coffee."

With a few harsh words which made Bailey surprisingly laugh, Alex stormed out of your hospital room, storming past O'Malley and Stevens who had come to check in with Bailey on how you were doing.

Bailey leaned down closed to you, "If you die, god help us all... that boy..." she looked to the door where Alex had left from, "he'll be lost forever. So don't you dare, you hear me?"

The coffee machine was a minute's walk away from your room so Alex would know if anything were to happen to you, he would know but he kept checking over his shoulder anyway just in case. He was exhausted, he couldn't remember the last time he'd drank or even the last time he'd eaten. You had consumed him for the last two days; making sure that you were okay was his first priority.

He stopped at the coffee machine punching the button for a crappy black coffee that he wasn't going to drink anyway, "Come on," he grumbled as the cup dropped and the coffee began to pour in slowly, "Damn piece of crap machine, hurry the hell up!" He yelled suddenly, slamming his fist into the plastic front. Around him, people stared but he didn't care. When the coffee finally stopped, he pulled the cup out when he heard it.

"Code blue! I need a crash cart! Room 2203!" It was Bailey. It was you.

Boiling hot coffee splashed over the floor, the cup dropped and on the ground as Alex Karev took off running.

His heart pounded, usually the thrill was the thing he loved the most but this wasn't a thrill, no, this was dread. When he burst into your room, the first thing he heard was, "Clear!" and heard the noise of the defibrillator.

"What's going on?!" He yelled over the chaos.

"Get him outta here!" Bailey yelled, "Charge to 200! Get him outta here, O'Malley!"

George tried but a determined Alex was a strong Alex. He resisted George's grip, shoving him back every chance he tried to take him out. It got to the point that George gave up, "Dr Bailey!" He exclaimed, hopelessly as Alex barged to your bedside. Bailey couldn't do anything, she was busy trying to save your life, she couldn't deal with Karev as well so she let him be.

"Don't you dare die on me," Alex hissed, eyes flooding with tears, "don't you dare. Can't do that to me, (y/n). Can't have me sitting here waiting for two days to just die on me-" he looked to Bailey, "Save her... please."

Bailey's eyes met Alex's and she found a lump in her throat, "You hear him?" She asked you as the paddles charged, "don't you dare die on us, (y/n)." With one final shock, the monitor started to beep again, "Heart rate is coming back up," she said with a relieved sigh, "Thank the Lord. Levels are stabilising."

Alex collapsed into the chair at your bedside, hand clamped around yours, as his eyes closed, letting the relief wash over him. You were alive; you were stable.

"What- what caused it?"

Bailey shook her head, "Don't know, levels were fine but as soon as you left the room they started to drop so do me a favour, Karev," she looked pointedly at him, "don't leave this room again." Normally he would've bit back, said a comment about her forcing him out but instead, he just nodded falling back into his chair, hand still in yours, "I'll check every hour, okay? You page me immediately, got it?" Again, he nodded and then the room cleared out.

Alex didn't turn the monitors down, he needed to hear the steady beep to know that you were okay, you were alive and you were breathing. For the last three hours that he'd sat here, he had prayed to every god he could remember the name of - he didn't know if it counted but even started praying to some Greek Gods as well. Why have God in the title if it doesn't count? His hand was still firmly in yours.

Bailey had checked five times in the three hours, checking on you but also on him. She brought him a soda, a sandwich and a muffin and didn't leave until he'd drained half the can and eaten one of the sandwiches. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until he'd started eating, he devoured the rest of meal once she'd left. You were still stable but you weren't awake yet. Bailey was optimistic but Alex wasn't. He was dreading the worst, expecting your levels to become unstable again but as he was dosing off, he felt your hand twitch in his.

He shot up, "(y/n)?" He asked staring at your hand and then at you and much to his relief, your eyes began to flutter open. He let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. Utter relief crashed over him, "You're awake," he grinned, "you're actually awake."

"A-Alex?" You croaked.

"Here," he said gently as he grabbed a plastic cup and straw and filled it with water from the jug on your bedside unit, "Drink up. How you feeling?"

"Sore."

"Multiple ruptured organs and a few broken bones'll do that to you," Alex teased with a smile. You noticed his hand was still in yours, warm and strong. He saw your eyes narrow at your joined hands and he was quick to pull his back despite everything inside him not wanting to, "I- I'm gonna page Bailey, you drink up." He helped you take the water and left. He was just outside, close enough to make sure that you were still safe - still alive.

It was as he left you looked around the room and you noticed the camping cot which was set up on the floor next to your bed. You frowned. Someone had been staying here. Was it... no, it couldn't have been Alex; Alex hated you.

Your thoughts were cut off by Bailey bursting into your room, "Oh thank the Lord," she grinned, "it's good to see you awake. You scared us." As Bailey checked you over, Alex returned to the seat next to you. Bailey saw your confused expression seeing him sat there, normal clothes not working, "Karev," she said, "go and get (y/n) a sandwich, will you? She's hungry." Alex went to argue, to tell Bailey she told him not to leave your room but Bailey's pointed look made him stop and nod. He left a second later giving you one last worried look, "She's fine now go."

You looked up at Bailey who sighed and looked down at you, "You had that boy scared to death, you know."

"Who? Alex?!"

Bailey nodded, "You're not the only one who's surprised. As soon as you were admitted he was here. It was his day off and he was here. Soon as you got outta surgery he was set up in your room. He hasn't left since Tuesday."

You looked down to the cot next to you, "He's been here the whole time?"

Bailey nodded, "I don't know what's going on between the two of you - if anything - but I'd say that there's something." Your frown deepened and Bailey smiled, "Just... be patient with him."

When Alex came back, Bailey gave you a secret nod with a knowing smile before she left promising to come check on you every hour and to not dare think about going back into a coma otherwise she would kill you. "I'm a doctor, I know how to save people but I know how to kill them too."

"Hey," Alex said as he placed a sandwich and soda on the unit beside your bed, "You okay?"

You nodded, finding yourself rather overwhelmed and touched by his actions. He - Alex Karev - had stayed by your side since the accident. What did that mean? What did Dr Bailey mean? You nodded quickly, "Yeah," you said softly, "just tired."

Alex puffed out a long breath as he sat in the seat next to your bed, "Yeah, you must be. Gave me- gave us all a fright."

Silence fell and the two of you fell into the comfort of the sounds of the hospital. You sipped at the soda Alex had brought before curiosity got the better of you, "Alex... why did you stay with me?"

You could've sworn his cheeks flushed a darker shade of pink but he rubbed his hands over his tired looking face so you couldn't have been sure, "Hell if I know," he muttered, "it's not like we're friends but... I didn't want you to be alone. You're the only one that's almost like a friend and... I dunno." He shrugged, "I don't really understand it myself." Maybe there was something deeper lurking under the surface but he didn't know. That was something you'd have to navigate together, "I know you'd have probably preferred Cristina or Mer-"

You took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Thank you, Alex," you whispered, "for everything. Thank you." Now, this time you could see the tips of his ears go pink. You smiled, "Now when are you going to shower cause boy you are looking rough-"

"Shut up!" Alex rolled his eyes but he laughed with you and for once, it felt nice to joke around with him. It felt normal. You didn't know what was going to happen but you somehow knew that he would be beside you, figuring out this crazy journey together and somehow, that made it a little less scary.

[yooneunhay]

Essence of the Feathered Heart

【ＣＨＡＰＴＥＲ　ＴＷＯ】

𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; (eventually) ot8ateez x hybridbird!reader

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; human!seonghwa (ft; human!hongjoong, suprisehybrid!idol) x hybridbird!reader

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚; angst, a bit of fluff

-----

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐯

i had only been in this adoption center for a day. the staff tried to feed me but i refused. how could i eat with all that just happened to me? i was unwillingly dragged out of my home, put into an adoption center, and not to mention just a couple of hours ago before being dragged out my house, i was shot. the staff did help my wound and wrap my wing in bandages but they had to strap me down for it. even though i had hurt one of the staff in the process, she still was so kind to me. i couldn't understand it.

knock knock

i was sitting with my legs up to my chest and my head laying in my knees, leaning against the wall, when the kind staff lady knocked on my room door and walked in, closing the door behind her. she had a plate of food in her hand, i just watched her as she set the plate on the desk in the corner. the room i was in was a normal room, all white with a bed in the corner and a desk with a chair in the other corner. there was a big window in the front of the room where people could see in. like at a normal animal adoption center. then next to the big window was the door. there was also one more thing about the room. another window. much smaller than the first, with a curtain over it. the curtain was on my side but the first time i moved it, thinking it was a window to the outdoors, there was another curtain on the other side of the glass window.

"must be another room for hybrids.."

the staff lady came over to me. she bent down to my level on the floor. she reached her hand out, and pet me. she was petting the top of my head. i didn't feel anything towards it when she pet me. it's not like i'm a cat i'm not going to purr..but the action was nice, i felt relaxed.

"you're still hurt," she spoke "you need to eat something."

she smiled at me beofre getting up and leaving the room. i wasn't really all that hungry, it had been awhile since i last ate though. i got up after a few minutes of sitting on the floor next to the wall and went to the desk where the food was. i sat down and began to eat. i was almost down with my food when i heard a knocking noise. it wasn't from the door though. i turned around looking at the other wall where the smaller window was. on the other side was another person. a hybrid, smiling at me and waving.

"hi! i like your wings!" the other hybrid said.

my wings twitched at his compliment, and a slight smile spread across my face at seeing his bright smile. the kind of smile you can't help but find calming and heart fluttering. i left my food on the desk and walked slowly over the window with the hybrid on the other side.

"i'm Felix!" he said with a bright smile.

"Y/N" i said back.

he motioned for me to come closer to the window. i walked closer. i noticed his ears first, they were a pretty brown color with white spots on them. he had small antlers that were a big constrast from his beautiful white, almost angel like, hair. he seemed to be a deer hybrid. more specifically a sika deer. i for some reason felt the need to protect him. he seemed so pure..but he was an orange code, why?

"i like that name! how did you get here?" he asked.

"they found my home in the forest..if you don't mind me asking, why are you an orange code? you dont seem at all aggressive." i responded.

he paused and thought for a moment, as if he was deciding if he should tell me.

"my owner sent me here. gave me away. she said she didn't want me anymore.." his smiled faded a bit. "she told the staff i was aggressive so i was put here." he put his head down for a few seconds just to lift it back up and have his bright smile on his face again. "but that's fine! i wasn't the biggest fan of her anyway."

i felt bad. having a owner you think loves you, just for them to give you back to where they find you. i could relate to how im sure he was feeling when it all happened. it was similar to how my family treated me. they acted like they loved me when my grandpa was around, until he passed then they kicked me out.

"i'm sorry to hear that..Felix."

i felt like i should've given him a hug or some sort of comfort. the only thing i could do was give him a smile hoping that would cheer him up in some way.

knock knock

i turned towards the door as a staff member came in. it wasn't the nice lady so my other wing that wasn't bandaged immediately opened to make myself appear bigger as a sort of defense mechanism.

"calm down birdy, there's someone who wants to meet you."

------

𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚'𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐯

"are you still thinking about that hybrid?"

Hongjoong asked, snapping me out of my daze.

"you've been just staring at the t.v for 7 minutes.."

i looked over to him in the kitchen as he was washing the dishes. the truth is i was still thinking about that hybrid. i wanted to see them again, give them a better life. i think my feelings were clear on my face as Hongjoong stopped doing the dishes and came over to me at the table.

"Seonghwa, if you really think adopting this hybrid will help them, then you should go see them. try getting to know them. see if they would even want to be adopted."

Hongjoong grabbed my hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. all i could do was smile at him and nod slightly. how would the others react when they found out i was thinking of adopting another hybrid? Jongho is very possessive, i'm sure he wouldn't like it. Wooyoung likes meeting new people and hybrids but they're usually intimidated by his energy. San, even though he's the kindest hybrid ever, isn't the best at making friends. his larger frame tends to make others scared of him.

sigh

"maybe i should.." i said in response to Hongjoong. he smiled at me.

"i'll go prepare some food for you take." he said while getting up and walking back into the kitchen.

i couldn't help but smile at Hongjoong as he walked away. maybe i was thinking too much into it but sometimes i couldn't understand how i got so lucky to have such a amazing life with someone who loves me and hybrids who love me just the same. hopefully meeting this hybrid, they would be able to get that same love.

-----

hiii !! tysm for reading ! sorry seonghwas pov wasnt as long as the readers :(( i couldn't think of much for his pov ><

if u want to be on the tag list pls comment !!

===

TAGS; @astuteataraxy @newworldwritings

[ninii-winchester]

Revived (Part 2)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings : fluff, slight angst, violence, canon level gore, language, demons, unedited.

A/n : turned it to a mini series. The next part will be the last.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Y/n groaned in her sleep, snuggling back into the covers. She felt soft kisses being placed all over her face and she smiled her eyes still closed. "Dean, let me sleep." She mumbled sleepily.

"Wake up, sunshine." Dean whispered in her ear. "I miss those pretty eyes."

“You’re so cheesy.” She giggled turning her face away from him. All she wants is a few a extra minutes of sleep.

“Sweetheart, I’m making up for lost time, it took only three revivals for us to get together.” He said, she was enjoying his over-the-top cheesiness, before he jokingly added, “God forbid one of us dies again.” He let out a chuckle. She froze at as he spoke. Dean noticed her sudden stillness and questioned, “you okay?”

“Yeah.” She said turning to look at him, finally opening her eyes. “Just don’t like you talking about either of us dying.” She said softly. It wasn’t a lie either, she didn’t like to think about Dean dying again.

“I’m sorry I won’t bring it up again.” Dean apologised, he understands it must be hard for her to watch him die time and time again. He doesn’t even want to think about, how he’d feel something were to happen to her, ever. He’d probably lose his mind. And that’s putting it lightly.

It had been six months since Y/n made the deal and Dean came back from the dead. Y/n was relived that the incident has been fairly forgotten, the boys don’t bring it up anymore and she doesn’t have to fake her expressions while talking about it. She needs to make sure that they never find out, unless she wants to be on the bad side of angry Winchesters.

Later that day, Y/n had been surfing through the internet looking for cases. And she did find one, in Wyoming.

“Boys!” She yelled from the library and the Winchesters appeared in the war room. “I found us a case.” She said looking at them.

“What is it?” Sam asked walking towards her, leaning over her chair to read the news. “Three dead, reports of strange noises, cattle mutilation, sudden temperature drop.” He read out loud.

“Sounds demon-y.” Dean said sitting on the table.

“What do ya say?” Y/n asked expectantly.

“I say gear up.” Dean replied nodding at the two.

The three of them settled into Baby and headed to Laramie, Wyoming. It was an nine hour drive approximately, including stops for gas and food. When they arrived at the motel Y/n’s whole body was sore, feeling cramped in the backseat the whole journey, she jumped out and stretched her body.

It was late at night when they arrived so they decided to just rest for the night and then jump into action first thing in the morning. Y/n and Dean shared a bed while Sam took the other. Another good thing of being with Dean, none of them had to settle for the uncomfortable pullout couch.

The next day Y/n and Sam went to police station, dressed as refined Federal Agents, while Dean looked around for anything out of ordinary and spoke to the local people. Dean was already back at the motel when Sam burst through the door, agitation clear on his face, Y/n quietly trailing behind. The younger Winchester slammed the files on the table.

“I don’t understand.” He voiced out.

“What’s wrong?” Dean questioned looking concerned.

“I read the files there’s nothing unusual, went to the vics’ house, none of them made any deals. No trace of sulfur at the houses either.” He said running a hand through his hair.

“Maybe it’s not demons? Witches?” Dean questioned.

“No hex bags either.” Y/n replied. “What did you find?”

“Jack with a side of squat.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“The omens clearly point to demons but there’s something wrong here.” Sam sighing dropping on the chair.

“Don’t fret it, Sammy. We’ll figure it out.” Y/n placed a hand on his shoulder. “Food anyone?” She questioned hoping to ease the tension and Sam nodded. She quickly changed into her regular clothes and grabbed her jacket.

“Be safe.” Dean pecked her lips. “And don’t forget my pie.”

“Alright, you big baby.” She kissed him briefly and she was out of the door.

Forty five minutes passed and there was no sign of Y/n. Dean was growing restless with each passing minute. He tried calling her but it kept going to voicemail.

“Something’s wrong, Dean.” Sam stated. He pulled out his phone and sighed in relief. “Her GPS is still on.” Sam said showing his phone to his brother.

The two didn’t say another word before grabbing their jackets and running out of the door. They followed her trail and reached an old looking building. There were angel warding signs on the front of the place.

The boys quickly grabbed a fews guns, an angel blade and Ruby’s knife from the artillery in the trunk of the Impala. Gripping the blades tightly in their hands they made their way inside.

There were voices coming from further down the hall. They recognised one voice as Y/n’s and the other was a manly but unfamiliar one. There were two other demons positioned outside the room the voices were coming from. With a quick nod to each other Sam and Dean attacked. Plunging their blades into the demons, killing them instantly.

Dean immediately rushed inside the room and Sam followed behind. Y/n was tied to a chair, bloodied and bruises littering her face. A man stood few feet away from her, beside a table full of knives and blades.

“Oh look, Dean Winchester is here for his whore.” The demon taunted as he hears footsteps approaching. “I don’t have anything to do with you two so you can walk away unscathed.” The demon said looking at the Winchesters.

“We’re not leaving without her.” Sam said, two more demons appeared and grabbed Sam and Dean.

“What beef do you have with her?” Dean growled. His eyes briefly flickering to her battered figure.

“I’ve got a bone to pick with her.” The demon walked behind her and pulled her hair to make her look up.

“I don’t even know who you are.” She muttered heaving lightly.

“Oh I’m sure you’ll remember pretty soon.” He said slapping her face. He picked up a knife and stabbed her in the thigh. She screamed loudly and Dean yelled at the demon to get away from her.

“You..” she panted. “You’re…that crossroads…” she trailed off.

“So you do remember.” Y/n’s head lolled to the side. “I’ve been waiting for so long to get my revenge, you bitch. And when I heard your soul is up for collecting, I knew I’d be the one to drain the life out of you.”

“What the fuck do you mean?” Dean growled.

“Oh so you don’t know that your beloved Y/n sold her soul?” Dean’s eyes widened at the demon’s words. He looked at Y/n who avoided looking at him. The demon smirked before adding, “you really didn’t. I wonder what else dear old Y/n hid from you. Do you know what she did when you went to Hell?”

“Dammit Y/n/n what did you do?” Dean asked softly looking at her.

“You’re precious little whore, tortured demons to bring you back. She killed many, but she made me suffer. Bitch would’ve killed me too had I not escaped, somehow.” The demon growled but then he smirked evilly. “I wanted to kill her so many time, but every time you two showed up. Then word got out Y/n L/n sold her soul. I wreaked havoc here to bring her here and now I’ll drag her ass to hell.” The demon cackled.

Before he could do any further, he was thrown against the wall and the demons holding Sam and Dean loosened their holds and stepped back looking at the intruder. The brothers wasted no time stabbing their captors and rushing to Y/n untying her from her binds.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The familiar voice said walking towards the demon.

“I was just taking her soul to hell.” The demon said standing up. “She sold her soul.”

“You think I don’t know that!” The voice exclaimed. “I MADE THAT DEAL. How dare you swindle my deal.” Crowley’s voice echoed through the vacant building. “That’s not how business works. And I don’t have place for incompetent employees.” He said snapping his fingers disintegrating the demon.

“The fuck you mean you made that deal?” Dean questioned holding a barely conscious Y/n in his arms.

“You died, Squirrel. She brought you back.” Crowley replied.

“Yeah and how’d did you manipulate the situation for yourself huh?” Sam accused approaching him menacingly. “How much time did you give her?”

“Fifteen years.” Crowley’s answer made him jerk back a bit.

“What?” Sam questioned but Crowley just rolled his eyes.

“All this skepticism after all this time, Moose.” He said poofing away.

“We gotta get her back to the motel, her thigh is bleeding too much.” Dean said walking outside and placing her in the backseat of the Impala.

He was going insane, he couldn’t focus. The only thing that kept ringing in his head was,

She sold her soul. She sold her soul. She sold her soul.

How could she do that. She promised, no deals. There’s a lot to talk about, there’s lot he needs to know. But the only thing on his mind at the moment is getting her back to the motel, treating her wounds and make sure she’s alright.

“Hang on, baby. We’re almost here.” He whispered softly, unsure if he was reassuring her or himself.

[aladaylessecondblog]

Red Mountain Waffle House pt. 13

Author's Note: Tw for some blood. Jiub is a troll. For those looking for canon Sotha Sil behavior, boy are YOU gonna be disappointed

This one snuck up on me

---------------------------

One week, then two.

Jiub found his Venmo occasionally pinging with small amounts from Sadara, who sent apology notes in each one. Honestly, he didn't blame her, but he wouldn't say no to to the extra money. He turned her room into another grow spot and it was doing okay, but still not to the level that having her there to contribute to rent had.

She hadn't come back, but there hadn't been much for her to come back for. A dresser, a bed. Those handful of receipts from Suran in the trash can he still hadn't emptied.

The Waffle House was doing a little worse for her absence, at least in his opinion.

The new waitress was an ashlander, and icily polite to those with corprus. Maybe they weren't the best people, but their money spent like anyone else's, and he couldn't figure out why all of a sudden NOW Nibani would want to piss them off by instructing new employees to act like this. It had driven off a few of them, or at least he thought so - it was hard to tell some of the ash ghouls apart from one another.

A few of the ash creatures had asked where Sadara was. The new waitress didn't know; neither did Nibani, whose answer was, "She no longer works here."

Jiub kept silent; he sure as hell wasn't talking. Sadara had sent him a Discord message (she'd outright deleted Morrotwitter) asking him to not tell anyone where she was, and he'd kept to it.

She didn't hadn't added any specifics about what exactly had happened on her little trip to Red Mountain. He'd asked a second time and she replied, 'Nothing we're not used to hearing.'

For a few days after that she sent random pictures of gnarly wounds from fighting cliffracers and other wildlife, and then of the scars once she healed up. There were also a few pics of cliffracers being turned on a spit over a fire, and a little 'wish you were here this thing tasted great' message a couple days in row.

Then there started being images of the inside of some cave along the coast near Tel Fyr.

The Fyrs are paying me 200 gold a week for blood and plasma, apparently I'm RH null blood type. it's special or something. and being immune to corprus makes them want it too, so. Not doing too bad.

Sounds great. What's up with the cave?

Oh, it's near Tel Fyr. Easy access. There's some khajiit and argonians here too, cave's big enough to share, so we do.

How do you share a cave?

We just have bedrolls in different areas. I feel like I got the biggest spot because it used to be a slave pen and they don't want to sleep over here ever again. It's not that bad. We've even got pets.

the fuck kind of pets do you have over there? lost scribs?

couple of fat slaughterfish we feed fish and scraps to. One we call Betty White and the other we call Wilson. They try to bite us but honestly they're big enough it's hard for them to move fast enough for it. So they'll mainly just hiss and make noise until they get food.

"Excuse me, cook? Are you paying any attention to the food at all, or are you destroying my eggs on purpose?"

"Your eggs are fine," Jiub replied, tucking his phone away. The customer in question had come in a few times, and was - well, honestly, such a stick in the mud it was fun to tease him. He was very particular about his food, wanted his waffles turn an even number of times...so Jiub always made sure not to do that.

Sotha Sil himself. Not all that impressive, at least not to Jiub. He said he came there because the sound of the blight winds was relaxing, and when he needed relative silence this was a good place to have it.

And his fried eggs were always just slightly runny.

"Here, I'll redo 'em if you want, I was hungry anyway."

He handed a newly finished plate of waffles to the new waitress, who took them to another ashlander in the corner.

"Do you have no pride at all in your work?"

"I'm cooking eggs and waffles for 10 septims an hour, there is no pride in this work," Jiub replied with a shrug.

"You are an insubordinate imp--no. No, I will waste no more time on your shenanigans. This is not what I am here for. Just cook the food." Sotha Sil huffed, and turned back to the laptop in front of him.

It was a far cry from the nigh-emotionless construct Jiub had heard Sotha Sil described as. Something, it seemed, had set the man on edge...he'd asked a couple people if something had happened to set Sotha Sil off what he was usually like. Most people couldn't see such little things, little signs of being potentially angry, or annoyed, or any number of similar things. But due to long experience, Jiub was a master at seeing it.

He'd reached a point in his life where he was looking to get humbled again. His success with Almalexia had made him feel almost bored - if he could off her so easily (however temporarily it lasted), really, how much farther was there to go? Maybe Sotha Sil would be different. Maybe he'd be tougher, somehow...

How little a thing would it take to push him over and make him screech?

He could already hear Sadara's voice chiding him for it. You little troll, you just want your ass kicked, don't you?

Well. Maybe he did.

The waitress went outside to handle the garbage, and so Jiub was the one to deliver the plated food. He glanced down at the laptop, and saw a familiar sight.

A Pokemon battle.

And more importantly...

"Superiorsil? So it's YOU! I should've guessed," Jiub set the food down and went over to clean the stove.

"What do you mean, you should've guessed?" Sotha Sil's voice had turned accusatory.

Jiub turned back, and gave a deep smirk as he extended his hand. "Jiuberjabber. How ya doin'?"

A pause.

A long, uncomfortable pause.

And then, Sotha Sil - master of the monotone, king of the cutting politeness, suzerain of stony looks - leaped over the counter and wrapped both hands around JIub's neck.

Both mer crashed to the ground and despite the pain and increasing lack of oxygen all Jiub could do was laugh.

"You idiot--pathetic--little WORM!" Sotha Sil was snarling, "You broke my perfect record!"

"It's just a game, man," Jiub struggled, trying to get one hand into his back pocket. Still the laughter persisted, even harder because he saw how much it infuriated the mer above him. Or maybe it was due to the choking. "Don't take it so seriously."

He managed to get his trusty box-cutter out, and took a few stabs in the area of his opponent's ribs. Jiub and Sotha Sil wrestled about in this fashion another few minutes, getting the latter's blood all over the floor.

"What happened to the calm magus, huh?" Jiub, still giddy from the lack of air, went on, finally getting to his feet and backing away, box-cutter at the ready. "Oh, wait, you are what the people need you to be, right? I've read the sermons."

"That wasn't IN the sermons you illiterate cretin," Sotha Sil stood, his pristine white robe now utterly ruined. The stab wounds were healed over quickly, and he looked ready to fight--

--and then suddenly bristled, snatched a to-go box, stuffed the food he'd left uneaten into it.

"Come back soon," Jiub, still in the mood to tease, energized by the fight, blew a capricious kiss at the furious mer before him.

Sotha Sil left, muttering under his breath.

Jiub then looked at the ashlander in the corner.

"You gonna tell the Temple about that?"

"Who the fuck would believe me?"

Grumbling, and thinking he was far too sober for this, Jiub moved off to the bathroom to snort some skooma. Nibani would be in within an hour, and he needed the blood cleaned up by then. The waitress, utterly horrified by what she had just witnessed, didn't look like she was going to be staying long enough to do the job.

[qqueenofhades]

I can't tell if part of the reason people don't recognize Biden's accomplishments is because society is so shallow and easily swayed by loudness over depth, or because Biden is just too quiet and prone to focusing on the idea that his actions speak louder than his words.

Like yeah, the latter thing is important, but we live in a REALLY shallow society; maybe a bit more bragging about your substantial achievements would be helpful here.

I get what you're saying here, but this kind of thing always seems to hinge on "the Democrats need to be doing more/Biden needs to be saying more/the Democrats are not doing it right/etc," and I just don't think that's the actual problem. Yes, in the past the Democrats have relied on the tactic of just doing good things and hoping that people will notice enough to vote for them, but that TORPEDOED them in 2010 (they didn't aggressively defend/market the Affordable Care Act, the Tea Party crazies got to set the narrative about GOVERNMENT OVERREACH, and they got shellacked so badly that they didn't control the House again for the rest of Obama's time in office). Fortunately, they have awoken to the fact that we live in a corporate noise machine owned and operated by cartoonishly villainous billionaire oligarchs who don't care if the country is pushed into fascism as long as they get their tax breaks, and where the average voter is well conditioned by said media to accept the BOTH SIDES BAD narrative without question.

Whether it's true or not is beside the point; if you flood the zone with enough BS, people act as if it is. See all those polls about how people think the Democrats are "too liberal" more than they think the GOP is "too conservative," even though only one of those parties is actively trying to end democracy. See the people who think Trump and Biden are equally ethically compromised. Etc. etc. Biden has already been considerably vocal about his accomplishments, has given several major speeches about the danger to democracy (which he did just the other day), but it is already so filtered and twisted in a radioactively toxic media atmosphere that just talking more or trying to trumpet more isn't going to help.

The DC media is full of a bunch of narcissists who like to make false equivalences and also openly hanker for Trump to be back in office because it makes them more relevant; they get to break juicy exposes and shocking headlines and whatever else, that gets more clicks, they get more exposure, etc. Biden is (as noted) boring, as in he's not on Twitter every day saying something ludicrous (and if he said even ONE ludicrous thing, far less the nonstop stream of BS that Trump constantly spews and which somehow still makes the media yell about how BIDEN should be the one to step aside, he'd be toast), and just does the job. That's not very Sexy and Marketable. When he talks about how he's doing the job and what he plans to do next, the media is too busy commissioning a dozen bullshit Horserace!!! polls and talking about how, in case we haven't noticed, he is 80 and that is somehow, implicitly, a more disqualifying fact than Trump's 91 goddamn serious treason-level felonies, including for literally trying to overthrow the government. Our politics and civic society have been so irreparably poisoned that actual competence is completely beside the point and makes a normal president less appealing than one who's just insane all the time. Everything's just a game show! Everyone's opinions are equal! Live in all the alternate universes you want! Who cares if we accidentally end democracy? Just another headline!

This is likewise not helped by the fact that in this relentlessly commodified social-media universe, Republicans are constantly on message and united behind their candidates, no matter how openly fucking awful they are, while leftists/liberals/Democrats (and people who claim to be) are constantly tearing into and criticizing their candidates in a way that makes Joe and Jane Low Information Voter even more susceptible to believing the "Both Sides" narrative -- after all, if the Democrats are attacking the Democrats, they really must be bad! Yes, we are not in a cult and therefore are able to have an actual discussion about things, but this falls into the "We're Just Holding Them Accountable!!" line that is just an excuse for ripping the Democrats even more than any of those people ever criticize or actively oppose the Republicans.

Hence all these braindead takes about how Biden should step aside, Biden should drop Harris, Biden should do X Y and Z and this is all his fault, instead of anyone remotely trying to come to grips with the extreme polarization and fascism of the other side. I keep yelling about it, and a lot of other people I respect keep yelling about it, because yet again, we've learned fucking nothing from 2016 and we're teetering on a repeat of it. See how all these Online Leftists want to scream and yell about Biden ending the train strike, and then somehow never seem to have heard that he kept working with the unions for months afterward and got their sick days. Even the people who, in a remotely more functional political landscape and/or if they possessed one (1) working brain cell, would vote for the Democrats get their endless jollies and moral holier-than-thous by absolutely incinerating them. Who needs the Republicans, when these guys will do it for you?

Anyway. Because America is a land of morons manipulated by billionaire corporate interests, just doing the right thing and hoping people notice enough to vote for you is not enough. That's why, indeed, the Democrats have learned that you have to talk about it and push back and argue for what you've done. But when it still exists in this environment that will twist and taint and misrepresent and grind it into tiny pieces, because said billionaire corporate interests are genuinely afraid that the Democrats' current policy plans could dismantle their hegemony if allowed to continue, that's only a very small part of the problem, and we have to recognize that.

[areyoubea-why]

GUYS I WROTE DOWN A ROUGH IDEA OF THE MAIN STORY FOR WATCHER SO YOU GUYS CAN REFER TO THIS FOR CONTEXT

I’m also not a writer please excuse me..

Prologue

- Sans was from the timelines where he was a scientist

- This au wasn’t a science au it was just Undertale but set a couple years before frisk falls down

- Sans worked with his friend W.D gaster

- His younger brother names papyrus was twelve years old and stayed at home while sans was working in his new job in the lab as the co-royal scientist

- The story was playing out as usual until due to a mistake in the code making up the au, sans switched places with gaster during the CORE incident

- This meant that sans was thrown into the void

- This glitch was unintentional as this timeline was supposed to be a normal Undertale timeline

- The timeline became glitched and it started to corrupt

- Error found this timeline and destroyed it to stop the spread of the corruption

- The au and its inhabitants where deleted

- But sans was still in the void

Part one

- after sans fell, he ended up in an empty infinite black void

- No light or no need to eat or sleep or anything

- overtime, this lack of usage of sanses magic caused his magic levels to dissipate and it eventually sputtered out

- Sans was still alive but couldn’t access his magic

- That means his blasters, teleportation, bones, inventory

- Even the magic in his eye lights dissapeared, leaving him with really really bad sight

- He’s not completely blind though as the slight amount of determination in his system let him survive in these dire circumstances

- He also got used to the dark eventually

Part two

- eventually the void sensed someone stuck in there and spat sans out like rubbish into a landfill

- Sans was thrown into the nearest Undertale timeline which happened to be a genocide timeline

- Sans was met with his home, empty except for the dust floating in the air

- sans was terrified and ran to his house blindly as it was so bright

- Sans sheltered in the house in snowdin for a couple of hours before he felt the world shake before him and suddenly he woke up in the house

- But he wasn’t alone (guys I literally can’t do this I hate writing just go with it these r straight facts at this point not a story)

- He heard the sound of conversation nearby and left the room

- He came across his worst nightmare

- It was him??? And a tall skeleton

- The way the tall skeleton spoke reminded him of his younger brother papyrus

- He was reminiscing until the other version of himself spoke up to the tall skeleton

- This was papyrus ?? But old? Okay that’s odd

- Last time sans checked papyrus he wasn’t even a teen yet

- Sans was about to speak up when he felt someone behind him

- Suddenly he was grabbed and thrown into a puddle of some odd liquid

Part three

- The skeleton started yapping about “ wow a past sans” and “ you don’t see them outside the timelines often” or “ this one has like so magic what the heck??”

- Sans honestly missed the black of the void at this point because there were far too many loud noises and bright lights for him

- “Who the hell are you?” Sam’s asked the strange figure

- The blurry brown figure apologized for getting off topic, his name was ink and apparently he was the protector of alternate universes?

- Sans did not like this at all

- “Wow your eye sockets are so large and creepy hah! You’re just watching me !”

- Say that again.. sorry

- Sans was about to retort that if he can’t see well he can’t watch but ahh well

- Ink then tells him to go to the omega timeline where a human called core can help him

- Ink sent him through that horrible puddle thing again and he arrived in another bright area

Final part (please help me)

- Sans was given a place in the omega timeline by core

- Core was interested in this new sans as they had never gotten sanses from before

- They also did the math that he was very young compared to the other sanses, despite his odd appearance

- Core could sympathize with the big gaping eyes though

- “ wow your eyes are like mine, perfect for observing people!!”

- Core noticed that this sans needed a nickname due to the abundance of sanses in the area

- They saw the sans looking and observing people a lot and not interacting so they nicknamed him the watcher as a joke but it kind of stuck

- Sans was given a token which could help him travel to different aus

Final details

- the watcher used the token to study the og Undertale and he found out that this is him in the future

- Eventually the watcher came across prank tale and was dumbfounded by the sheer amount of noise and colour

- It was his worst nightmare

- The local sans was an eyesore too and an utter buffoon??

- They did not get on at first

- But eventually they became close friends and pt visits the watchers apartment in the omega timeline

- They get it all sorts of predicaments like getting stuck in the back rooms r smth

- The watcher gained a couple of close friends over time

Okay that is IT I am DONE writing I hate it

This doesn’t even count as writing it’s so bland and ewww

This wasn’t supposed to be anything special.. just context for anyone who wanted to know his story

Permissions -

Nothing to do with NSFW if you want to draw or write about watcher

You can write or draw him just credit me!!

PT doesn’t belong to me, he belongs to marvelous-baguette on tik tok!!

In conclusion

Name: the watcher

Age: physically 20 , mentally 35 due to being stuck in the void and not growing

-true neutral-

Strengths: amazing hearing due to having bad sight, good with guns somehow

Weaknesses: 1HP, no sans abilities, bad sight, papyruses

Fears: sleeping, quiet places, any papyrus, error

Personality: quiet to begin with, really friendly eventually

Friends: PT, park sans (belongs to a_lotta_socks on tt), system error (belongs to jenlinthegreat_ on tt)

Regarding sparky sans, my other oc who I talk about more on tik tok (beaboep), he is a what if character in another timeline where the watcher was found by the bad sanses instead of in and was given to the mad scientist sparky to be experimented on

Any typos are not my fault I do no wrong!

Thank you for coming to my ted talk 🗣️🗣️

[hornyhornyhimbos]

BABES BABES PLS DO WATCH AND SIT TOGETHER WITH EDDIE IM DYING FOR IT ILY

"Three Simple Rules" ~ E. Munson

Summary: When Eddie's watching a movie and Reader won't just shut up, he has to remind her that there are three simple rules in his house.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x AFAB!Reader

Word Count: 1,174

Content Warning: MINORS DNI (18+ content) fingering f!receiving, dacryphilia, edging, nicknames (love, brat, and good girl all at the same time 😩), bratty!reader x mean!eddie, eddie shoves reader's panties in her mouth, eddie is possessive, swearing, lmk if i missed anything!

Extra Notes: this request oh my lord 😵‍💫

Based On the Prompts: [ sit ] and [ watch ] from the list below

Originally Written: 02/13/2023

smut starters can be found here!

hornyhornyhimbos ask box can be found here!

[ SIT ]  for one muse to finger the other who sits in their lap fully clothed, keeping an arm around their waist to make them stay still. 

[ WATCH ]  for muses to cuddle on a couch while watching tv and one of them begins to finger the other but stops every time they make too much noise. 

Eddie had been knuckles-deep inside you for nearly an hour and you still hadn't cum.

Just when things would start to feel good, just as you were reaching the brink of pleasure, he'd just… stop.

You wanted to find out why, but every time you'd turn to ask why, he'd stop you. "Shh, I'm trying to watch a movie, love," he would tut. Every. Damn. Time.

You were close once again, your climax approaching as quickly as the movie's was. You whimpered, your eyes screwing up as you whispered a soft, "Please, Ed."

His thumb massaged small circles into your sensitive bud, his index and middle fingers crooked right where you needed them. He left a small string of kisses from the lobe of your ear to the crook of your neck, suckling softly on the sensitive skin.

And, just as he had before, as soon as you let out another mewl, his fingers pulled out of you, settling softly on your mound.

You let out a low groan, swiveling your head to face him. "Eddie, why do-"

"Shh, love, this is where it gets good," he cut you off again, his attention fully on the screen in front of him.

"No!" you pouted. "Why won't you let me cum, Eddie?"

His attention turned to you, his eyes parting from the television and meeting your own. "What have I told you about interrupting me?" he asked, his tone level and even.

"But-"

"No buts, love," he said. He pulled his hand out of your leggings, his fingers meeting his mouth, his tongue circling the digits and lapping up every last bit of your taste. "Guess you don't want my fingers too bad, then."

Your eyebrows furrowed in disappointment. "No, please," you nearly begged, "I'll be good. I promise."

He chuckled, shaking his head and turning his attention back to the movie. "You couldn't be good even if you tried, brat."

Your mouth fell agape. You couldn't believe what he'd just told you, what he'd just called you.

In something close to anger, you scooted out from where you sat between his legs and over to the opposite side of the sofa. A smirk appeared on your face as your hand dipped beneath the waistband of your leggings, your finger maneuvering fast circles on your clit.

"Don't you dare," he nearly growled.

"Why?" you breathed heavily, settling into the approach of your first orgasm. "Just giving myself what you couldn't."

His hand flew to your wrist, pulling your hand away from your pants at near lightspeed. "What have I told you?"

You rolled your eyes and let out a low scoff. "Well, I wouldn't have to if you'd just do it yourself."

The bastard had the audacity to chuckle as a gleam appeared in his eye. "You want me to do it, huh?"

He grabbed your shoulders, pushing you swiftly down on the couch, your back arching away from the couch from just how hot he looked in the moment. He shoved your pants down your legs and through them across the room in record time.

He pulled those little pink panties off of you agonizingly slowly before stuffing them into your bratty mouth, a smirk appearing on his lips as you whimpered around them. Without hesitation, he shoved two of his digits into your hole, giving you no time to adjust, only making you whine harder.

A tear started to form in the corner of your eye as his fingers pumped fast and hard. You whimpered behind the cotton jammed between your lips, your body nearly convulsing already.

"How many times do I have to tell you, we have three simple rules here," he grunted, pulling his fingers out of you.

He rammed his index finger back in with strong force, tears brimming in your eyes as he said, "One: never interrupt me unless it's life or death."

He shoved his middle finger in, even harder than the first one, saying, "Two: this pussy is made for my fingers, and my fingers alone. No one else's. Not yours, not any Tom," he thrusted his fingers once, "Dick," a second thrust, "or Harry," he thrusted them one last time. "Mine. And only mine."

"Eddie!" you tried to cry out from behind the material, but all that came out was a muffled, "Mmmm!" with each thrust of his digits.

"And three," he said, forcing his ring finger in, "you cum when I say you cum."

By this point, tears soaked your cheeks, his assault on your cunt a mixture of pain and pure bliss. His fingers pumped in and out of your hole, your veins burning as your orgasm approached.

His fingers stopped as his opposite hand reached for the remote. Fuck him and his inability to multitask. Once his attention was focused on you and you alone, his digits continued on as they were before, pumping hard in and out of you, his middle finger long enough to brush the spot you loved most.

"Now, if you can be quiet, I'll let you cum. How does that sound, love?" he asked, an eyebrow cocking upward.

Through your stream of tears, you managed to nod, whining softly behind the wet, pink material in your mouth.

His fingers moved with speed and precision, the sight of your orgasm nearly enough to get himself off. He licked his lips as he watched your face screw up, your muffled whimpers and moans only cheering him on.

You nearly screamed as your first orgasm finally hit you, your legs wrapping around him as it came over you. Your tears only became thicker as his fingers coaxed you through your high, your fingers managing to reach up and brush through his dark curls as your way of a silent, "Thank you."

He removed his hand from your cunt one last time, holding it up to your mouth as he removed your underwear from your lips. "Suck."

You didn't hesitate, opening your mouth with speed and letting your tongue swirl around, savoring the sweetness of your juices.

"I hope you enjoyed that feeling, love," he smirked. "Because that's all I'm gonna be tasting tonight, and you're not gonna get to cum once."

He removed his hand from your tongue, and you immediately missed the taste. He pointed to your pants, a stern look on his face. "Now, clean up after yourself. Wouldn't want anyone to see what a brat you've been. Good girls clean up after themselves, yeah?"

Your legs nearly gave out from underneath you as they wobbled on your way to pick up your leggings. You slid your panties back on, then your pants, the materials nearly bringing you to tears again as they brushed against your sensitive pussy.

You stumbled back to your previous spot on the couch, resting between Eddie's legs and settling into his chest, hiding how heavy your breathing had become.

"Now then," he said, his hand reaching beneath your leggings and underwear, settling on your mound once again, "will you please let me finish my movie?"

I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS ON THIS FIC BUT I SHALL REFRAIN 🫡

thank you so much to @rupsmorge for this request bc 😵‍💫 i needed to write this. just didn't know it until i did it. thank you.

-> Taglist: @rupsmorge @dungeons-are-too-cold @esoltis280

[iraprince]

hi idk if this is a weird question but like. how do u Make Art with adhd? you mentioned in your comic that you struggled w various other creative hobbies, but like drawing feels to me always like the Big Bad Thing I Cannot Ever do. even tho i want to make it my career LOL

how'd you get past that?

not a weird question at all! this is actually a question i ask myself pretty much every day, bc generally my answer to "how do i make art with adhd" has always been: With Great Difficulty, lmfao.

it's hard! i am not always good at it! i made art my job bc i realistically couldn't imagine being truly happy with anything else; if that wasn't the case, i'm not sure i would be doing this. like, that ends up being a big divide between the hobbies mentioned in that comic vs art, which is something that it seems (according to viewing my online activity) i do "Consistently;" it is my career, so there's a level of like, urgency and necessity there that my hobbies don't have. which, like, obviously my advice is not "make it your job so that you HAVE to OR ELSE :)" because it doesn't work like that. i am spending an amount of time OR-ELSE-ing that i think might surprise ppl, and i am frankly very lucky that my wife is the primary provider for our family, because it gives me a safety net for when my brain makes a loud grinding noise and then belches a big cloud of smoke and i have to spend a week hitting it with a wrench.

ANYWAY. this is going to get long bc i have a lot of thoughts abt it. there's really no one answer to getting past it, and i am not "past it," i don't know if i think anyone ever can be! we can just try really hard to keep going in ways that won't burn us out. if i had to pull out the absolute #1 most important thing i've learned over the past few years, it is -- and i know this sounds like dumb corny bullshit but you really have to stay with me here -- being kind and patient with yourself.

i'm being so dead serious. if beating yourself up and freaking out and constantly agonizing over how much more you Could be drawing worked, you would be drawing right now. if beating ourselves up over our output worked, EVERYONE would be drawing ALL the time. it doesn't fucking work! it does not! do literally anything other than yelling at yourself. it's bullshit. it's fuckery. it does not work.

on the other hand, cultivating as much kindness and patience and compassion as i can muster -- saying, "well, it looks like i just don't have it today. that's okay, let's try again tomorrow," even if i'm saying it through clenched teeth and i don't really believe it -- THAT works, because it chips away at the idea of drawing being life or death. it's probably a very similar feeling to you describing art as The Big Bad Thing. of course if you hang all your self worth on it and let it become immense and dominating, it's going to be hard to interact with it! it's scary! it becomes easier to avoid it than to try to tackle it and then feel disappointed in yourself in a more active way (vs. just disappointed in yet another day where u didn't try). but every time i sigh and say "okay" when my brain is screaming and crying bc art just is not working, and i decide to rest and try again tomorrow, 1. it is easier to do a little bit of work the next day when i'm rested than it is to do ANY work when i chain myself to my desk for 9 hours and demand results, and 2. i learn that it is not the end of the world. it just isn't. and so art gets smaller, and less frightening, and it can just be my job (something i have to wrangle my adhd around just like anything else, like grocery shopping and keeping the house clean and keeping up with my friends) instead of some huge destructive boss battle with my identity hanging in the balance.

sometimes you have to talk to yourself like a little kid. if a little kid came to you upset and was like "i wanna draw but i just can't. i don't know why." you would (hopefully) not be like, "whatever, i guess you're just not cut out for it then!" or whatever other mean shit we say to ourselves when we can't draw. you would be like, "well, okay. do you want me to sit with you? how do we start? where's some stuff we can draw with? hm, i can't really think of what to draw either. did you see anything pretty or cool today? let's just draw some shapes." etc etc. and if the kid got frustrated and it still wasn't working you'd be like, you know what, that was a good try. let's have some lunch and try again later. and you deserve that same level of patience, and that level of CURIOUS problem-solving ("what can we try? what might be easier?") instead of, like, adversarial/blame-assigning problem solving ("what the fuck is the matter with you? why can't you just do it?")

also, shaking things up!! one of the most frustrating things abt adhd for me is i'll find a new strategy that Works, but it only works for like, two weeks or whatever, and then it stops working and i have to do something else. i have had a way better time just accepting that that's how things work vs thinking of these cycles as "failures."

if i start dreading working at my desk, i throw a block of printer paper onto a clip board and work on the couch for a few weeks. when that stops working, i get back on drawpile and do all my warmup sketches on an interactive canvas, with strangers around me (virtual coffeeshop lol?). when i get tired of that, then maybe i'm ready to be alone with clip studio again. nope, still not working? okay, let's stream while i'm working for a while then. let's start drawing differently. let's change the background color i draw on. just, like, i keep shaking things up to see if maybe i can trick my brain into feeling like we're doing something totally new for a while, and a lot of the times it works, and when it does not work i am not an asshole to myself, which is, as i keep reiterating, super vital.

when i make the most art is when i get super excited about something and i let myself go apeshit. (there's a reason my guild wars 2 stuff is corralled on a sideblog lmao.) when commissions start grinding to a halt for me, a lot of times it's bc i've let them become Tasks on a to-do list instead of remembering that each piece is a DRAWING; it can help for me to sit down and go through each piece in my queue and really look at it, and remind myself that these are DRAWINGS and i LOVE drawing, and to point out to myself stuff in the wip that i like, and stuff i'm excited to draw the next time i work on it. it's very easy to flatten stuff into just An Obligation if you stress too much about it, but it's very helpful to slow down and step back and remind yourself WHY you care that much. it's not just bc you have to.

i don't really want this to get much longer than it already is, especially when i don't really have concrete tips so much as rambling opinions and examples of stuff that Kind Of works for me Sometimes. i think the tldr is: relax, be nice, keep it fresh. i hope at least some of this is helpful!

[disorganizedkitten]

There Is Magic In Every Living Thing 1

Harry Potter | 2021 | 546 | Ao3 | Masterlist | Next

Theodore's dorm in Slytherin House consists of two Necromantic disasters, three idiots, and one Theo. Surprisingly, they haven't burnt down the castle yet. (Or maybe not surprisingly, since the pyromaniacs are mostly in Gryffindor Tower. Still, they haven't managed to reduce the school to rubble, so that's good.)

“Hey, your family crest is being carved into the wall.” Theo looked back down at his book, having figured out what the scraping noise and sudden magical presence was. He was on his stomach on his bed in the Slytherin sixth year dorm, Harry was to his left, upside down on his own bed for some general reason that probably hadn’t been put into words yet. Theo tried not to worry about it, as a rule. And Blaise was sitting on his bed, playing with either potions, chemicals, or colored water. Theo also tried not to worry about that. It was probably blood.

 “Who’s family crest?” Blaise asked.

Theo glanced up from his book again at the distracted tone. Harry didn’t respond. Theo glanced pointedly at the same wall. “The one you share.”

 Something clattered to the floor from Harry’s side of the room. Huh. He was holding something?

 Rustling and the bouncing of springs from behind Theo informed him Blaise was moving too, and he watched the two brown boys reach the wall with nearly-matching levels of inhuman grace. The final line of the Peverell crest finished being carved into the wall. Harry, the idiot, reached up and touched it.

 He didn’t get thrown across the room, but that didn’t relax Theo. He kept them in his peripheral, ready to cast a spell if something moved wrong. Death may not be his domain, but he could weaken the dead by funneling away their power if they dared attack his friends.

 Another line was carved into the wall. From his angle, Theo wasn’t sure what it was. “Oh,” Harry breathed, as the wall continued to be vandalized. “Are you okay?”

 Theo gave up on being subtle and sat up properly. Ah. That didn’t seem to be dead people. Lily Potter probably had some physical scrying spell, most likely based off blood, and was using it to write Harry this message. The idea that most people lauded her as the paragon of a Light Witch when half of her spells were blood magic was ridiculous.

 “Do we need to come at you from this side?”

 Theo hoped so. He wanted to participate in one of her rituals.

 “I’ll let Con know. Be safe.” Harry’s eyes turned green again, and he glanced over at Theo. “So apparently mum and dad are missing because they’re in an alternate universe, and they’ve decided to wreak havoc.”

 Theo looked at his best friend and then shook his head mirthfully. “Can you believe they’ve pretended we’re the bad influence in your life?”

 Harry snickered. “Denial, it’s gotta be.”

 “Don’t know why,” Blaise hummed, tone smooth and teasing. “I’d be happy if my kids turn out like us.”

 “We are truly amazing human specimens,” Harry agreed, fluttering his eyelashes at Blaise.

 Theo snorted, a knee-jerk peal of laughter that would rarely be seen around anyone else. He opened his eyes to see Harry looking at him, amused and questioning. Theo grinned. “Human.”

 Harry caught the joke that time around, and while he laughed Theo looked over at Blaise. Blaise’s signature Cheshire grin was in place, dark eyes genuinely happy.

 Theo hadn’t seen that very often this year. He smirked back, but it didn’t last long before a full blown grin took its place.

[sanguineterrain]

prompt again for #5! steve gives the best hugs in the group — it's another reason why the kids call him the mom of the team. when you have a hard day you always go straight to steve for comfort. he'll rest his head on yours and hum a little and the two of you won't have to say anything — steve just knows you need some comfort - lav

5. giggly cuddles; 0.6k words

thanks for the prompt my little apple cake ⚘️ steve h x gn!reader.

****

Today has been too much.

You're at the Harringtons for a game night. It had been agreed the kids needed something to take their minds off what happened. Steve had put it upon himself to coordinate such a thing. You know he loves people in his house and the noise and warmth the kids bring.

And while your capacity for people doesn't match Steve's, you still adore all of them to death. And any other day, you'd be smack in the middle of the heated game of Monopoly happening downstairs. You can hear Mike yelling that Dustin should go straight to jail and rolling doubles before you go to jail doesn't protect you from future jail time!

You want to join the action and eat your weight in popcorn but instead you're in the kitchen, slowly sipping your glass of water and sagging against the counter. Your social battery is near drained. Every interaction, every worry, and every responsibility has nestled in your brain and zapped your energy.

You lean over the sink to try to find your breath and keep it.

"Hey."

You feel a warm hand on your spine. Steve sets the popcorn bowl on your other side, rubbing circles into your skin.

"D'you feel sick?"

You shake your head, hoping Steve will understand. You two have been friends for a while. Sometimes he just knows.

"Too much?" he murmurs, quieter this time.

You nod. Steve urges you upright.

"C'mere," he says, taking your hand. "I'll bring down the popcorn and then we can camp out up here."

"The kids—" you start.

"They'll be fine," he soothes. "They're occupied with the game. Nancy and Robin have 'em."

You go to the living room and linger by the couch. Steve is down and back in moments, dusting his hands on his jeans. He smiles at you, only slightly tinged with worry. He's such a mother hen, fretting over how much rest you're getting or checking your anxiety levels.

"Sit down," Steve instructs gently.

You frown. "I don't wanna keep you..."

He shakes his head.

"You're not, promise. C'mon, I got you."

You sit and Steve does the same, positioned against the back of the couch. He pulls you up so you're slotted between his thighs. Steve is warm and smells like caramel corn. He begins to rub at the base of your neck. Your muscles loosen.

"Bad day?" he asks.

"Jus' a lot," you murmur, clinging to his sweatshirt, head on his shoulder.

You feel him nod. You don't have to say much. Steve knows you inside and out.

"Had a guy come in today asking what the best movies for lizards are."

"Lizards?" you hum into his chest. "Like lizard movies?"

"No, like, he has a pet lizard named Wendell and he wanted my personal insight on films lizards would enjoy."

You bite your lip.

"So what did you tell him?"

"Well, first I asked what kind of personality Wendell has. Apparently he's a party boy."

You can't help your giggle at that. Steve joins in, shaking from the memory.

"It was bizarre! I had to get Robin involved. She must've given him a good selection. He seemed pretty happy."

You look up at Steve, curling your arms around his neck. He smiles down at you. Your foreheads bump.

"Thanks for this," you whisper. "You give the best hugs, Steve."

"Of course. Anytime. Y'want anything? You didn't eat much earlier."

"Later?" you plead. "Just wanna stay here with you."

Steve shifts and presses his cheek to yours. He continues to rub your neck.

"Sure, honey. We can stay here as long as you want."

[jedipoodoo]

love you to the moon and to saturn

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

part one: i think your house is haunted

Notes/Warnings: multi-part fic. Omega whump, Omega POV, Hunter whump, hurt/comfort, Hemlock is a b*tch, Omega is tied up/restrained, Hunter gets beat up and Omega is forced to watch. I've been working on this since the finale and as per usual, this one-shot is now a multi-chapter fic. Enjoy the first chapter!

Omega was terrified.

The guards were always terrifying, always present, but today they were on edge.

They roughly slapped a pair of cuffs on her hands instead of simply telling her to stand, and dragged her from her cell. Omega blinked to clear her vision as the harsh red light was replaced with the white lights in the hall. The commando guards shoved her in front of them and jabbed a blaster in between her shoulder blades to urge her forward. 

Omega tried to get a good look at the cell across the hall. Crosshair stared back at her, eyes wide and mouth set in a firm line. She could almost believe he would jump to his feet, break down the walls of his cell, and run after her. But Crosshair wasn’t an idiot, and neither was Omega. What could he possibly do unarmed against two large, armored commandos? 

The familiar brown eyes watched her walk down the hall with as much grace as an imprisoned adolescent could muster. She glanced back at Crosshair as they loaded her into the elevator. His head was already in his hands.

Omega had long given up on resisting, it only ended up with her being hurt. Or worse, Crosshair being hurt. 

"The best thing you can do is cooperate," Emerie Karr, the woman who called herself Omega's sister, had warned. Emerie insisted that she had warned Crosshair of the same several times, but he had ever listened. Omega understood that Emerie had been trying to help them, but it felt like there was no sincerity behind it. 

Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Echo were Omega's brothers, and they had come back to Kamino and certain doom for her. Crosshair was her brother even though he was loathe to act like it, and even he had risked everything to warn them, or so Emerie had told Omega. 

If Emerie was Omega's sister, why wouldn't she act like it? Why didn't she offer them another way out?

Omega frowned. Instead of going down, the elevator was taking them up. Omega was always brought in to watch Nala Se’s work in the labs below ground. Why were they taking her up?

She made herself breathe. Things were going well for them. Nala Se’s work was progressing well, even ahead of schedule, and she hadn’t stepped out of line lately, they couldn’t be punishing her. Perhaps this could be a reward?

Omega shuddered to think what kind of reward Doctor Hemlock would have in mind. Good or bad, she wanted nothing to do with him.

The elevator stopped just as one of the commandos received a comm.

“The timetable’s moved up,” He told his companion. They each placed a large hand on her shoulder, pushing her forward before the door was completely open. 

Omega stumbled over her feet, her hands stretched out in front of her to catch her balance, and tried to catch her bearings. This floor had the same light fixtures as all the other levels of Mount Tantiss, but everything was brighter. Sunlight seemed to come from some unseen windows as they moved her forward. 

Alarms began to go off, and Omega froze. 

“Move it stupid girl!” the butt of a blaster collided with the shoulder where she’d received several injections the day before.

Omega cried out in pain, and slapped a hand over her mouth. Humiliation swelled in her chest at how childish the noise was.

“You idiot!” The other commando snapped at his companion, and now all of them had stopped, even as the PA system announced an intruder alert. “You gotta keep her quiet or he’ll hear!” 

Omega bit her lip. Who was he?

“Isn’t that the whole point of this?” The first commando pointed out.

“Oh, right.” Before she could blink, they hit it again. Omega grit her teeth so that only a whimper made it through, but the pain drove her to her knees.

One of them yanked on her injured arm, and she screamed. It felt like her arm was being ripped out of its socket, white hot pain searing through her body and echoing off the metal walls. 

"Stop! Stop!" She gasped, but they tightened their grip on her arm and resumed dragging her down the hall. One of them took a few steps ahead to open a door. 

Why were they hurting her like this? What point were they trying to make? Hemlock's torture and experiments were sadistic, but they were never pointless. 

"AH!" she cried out as they yanked her arm again, and they tossed her into the room. 

Omega landed on her bad shoulder and whimpered. She tucked her arms into her chest to protect them, and looked around. The room was empty. It was barely larger than her cell, but brightly lit in comparison

The door behind her slid shut, and Omega clumsily stumbled to her feet. 

"Hey!" She slammed the manacled around her wrists against the door, sending a jolt of pain up her arm. After taking a deep breath to mitigate the pain, she gathered all her determination and the discipline Echo had taught her to slam her good shoulder against the door. If they wanted her to make some noise, she'd make some noise

"Let me out of here!" She screamed, slamming her fist on the door. It was solid beneath her hits, not even a dent, and the only window available was just barely out of her field of vision when she stood on her tiptoes. 

She felt rather stupid. She didn't even know if the commandos were still out in the hall. For all she knew they had dumped her in there and left. But Omega had enough of being treated like some animal, and she was going to make it known. 

"Hey! Let me go!" she screamed. 

The commandos didn't deign to reply to her, but she could hear them out in the hall. 

"Blast him!" one of them shouted. Blasterfire muffled any other noises they made, and Omega's heart beat faster. One of them cried out, and most of the blaster fire disappeared. There were a few more blasts, and then some grunts, harmonized with the clash of plastoid armor. 

With one final clatter, the noises stopped. 

Omega bit her lip and backed away from the door. Did she want to know what was on the other side of the door? What kind of creature had fought its way into Mount Tantiss and taken out the commandos? 

Her flight instinct took over as she heard them at the console, tapping the buttons. She scurried across the floor, trying to hide in the corner of the empty room as she curled into a ball and covered her face with her arms. 

The door slid open, and a helmet clattered to the floor. 

"Omega!" 

She gasped and looked up, unable to believe her ears or her eyes. 

"Huh…Hunter?" She whispered. 

Hunter stepped into the room. 

"Hey kid, it's okay," He whispered, holding out his arm towards her. 

Omega braced her hands against the wall, slowly pushing herself to her feet. She stumbled forward, and Hunter closed the rest of the distance between them, wrapping her up in his arms. 

"Hunter!" Omega sobbed. She looped her arms around his neck, still in the cuffs. Her left shoulder screamed in protest, but she ignored it. She had to hold onto him, to wrap her arms around his neck, bury her head in his scarf, to feel his arms around her, with a promise that they would never let go. 

"You came! I knew you'd come!" she said. 

"Yeah," He chuckled softly, "We came.

"I'll always come for you, kid." 

Omega looked up at him, "Are Echo and Wrecker here too?" 

Instead of answering, Hunter scooped her up into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. 

"About that…" 

Omega felt a sinking feeling deep down in her stomach. The lights overhead flickered out, and the red forcefield blocked the door, prohibiting their escape. Hunter shifted Omega to one arm and drew his blaster, fruitlessly aiming at the commandos and TK Troopers that flooded the hall outside the cell, an innumerable amount of blasters aimed at them. 

Omega shivered in Hunter's arms and he pulled her closer. 

"It's okay, it's okay," he told her. He took his eyes off the troopers for just a moment to whisper in her ear. 

"It's all part of the plan." 

"Sergeant Hunter, put down your weapons or we will be forced to shoot." One of the commanders warned. 

Hunter did as he was told. Without letting go of Omega, he crouched down and set his blaster on the ground, kicking it across the room towards the door. Then he drew his knife. In a classic display of Bad Batch noncompliance, he threw it at the shield, grinning to see several of the TK Troopers flinch before it landed just short of the door. 

With Hunter disarmed, the shield was deactivated and a dozen TK troopers swarmed them. One of them grabbed Omega under her shoulders to lift her off of Hunter and she whimpered.

“She’s hurt,” Hunter snarled, even as the troopers pulled him back by the shoulders. Another whacked their blaster against his groin, forcing Hunter to his knees.

Omega, still wearing her bindercuffs, was dropped unceremoniously on the ground and expected to stand on her own. Hunter’s hands were pulled behind his back and cuffed. 

“Good work, men.” This was a new commando standing in the doorway, with yellow paint on his armor.

“Bring them to Doctor Hemlock.”

[neveah-llama]

To Become a Superhero You Must do One of Two Things: Get Robbed or Die :)

Hey, I'm the author of 'The Impossible Adventures of the Phantom and the Ninja'. I just thought I could start publishing some chapters of my work to other sites. Here's chapter one of my fanfic- I hope you like it!

Name: Randy Cunningham

Grade: 9th

Title: What I did during my summer break

My summer started out the same, me and my bff (best friend forever) Howard played the original Grave Puncher Trilogy. We played for five days straight (NEW RECORD!!!), beating all 182 levels before I had to be dragged to camp for the rest of the summer.

Yeah you heard that right, I go to summer camp. It’s the kind of camp you would see in those old slasher movies, it has busted old cabins, surrounded by a creepy forest, and filled with reject jocks and wannabe populars. It reeks like an 80’s B-rated horror movie and I wouldn’t even be surprised if some psycho serial killer is out loose in those woods. I’ve been going to this camp since I was six years-old, my mom claims it’s so I could, ‘get out of the house and breathe some fresh air for a change,’ personally I think it’s because she wants to make my summers as miserable as possible.

But other than the porta-potty swirlies, getting dumped into the lake in the middle of the night, and other horrors I face on a daily basis, it’s not all that bad. I have a friend there that makes camp a little more tolerable, his name is Danny Fenton. A few things to know about him is that he loves space and lives somewhere in Illinois, his mom used to attend this camp with my mom when they were kids, it’s part of the reason me and Danny know each other. And like every summer for the past eight years, Danny and I have been dodging campers and too-cheery counselors for eight and a half weeks straight until all the campers come together and have a huge campfire by the lake. It’s probably the only time Danny or I are not being chased.

Usually, after returning from camp I like to just hang out with Howard again, and play Grave Puncher until I’m dragged back to school. But something epic happened! See it started a couple days after I returned from camp, I just pre-ordered the new Grave Puncher video game that’s coming out in November, just left the Game Hole where I was hanging out with my biffer, and was busy talking to Danny…

“I’m sorry your parents are building a what?” Randy could hear Danny face-palming on the other side of the phone. Something heavy banged somewhere in the background making his friend on the phone let out a heavy sigh.

“I said my parents are building a ghost portal- a freaking ghost portal!”

“Dude, that’s so bruce.” Randy said, partly because it annoys Danny whenever Randy talks in Norisville lingo and secondly because he believes Mister and Missus Fenton are the cheese! They are full-time ghost hunters and are literally ripping a hole in the fabric of reality! He really hopes that Danny’s parents will let him come over next summer, maybe even give him a summer internship too.

“No Randy, this is not ‘bruce’, in fact it’s the opposite of 'bruce'. Do you know how long they have been building this? Since I got back from camp! And for the past week it has been non-stop drilling, I can’t even sleep at the house with all the noise coming from the basement!” Danny let out a huge breath, “It’s just going to give Dash and his friends another reason why they should keep shoving, ‘loser Fenton’ in stupid lockers once school starts again.”

Okay so Randy could see why Danny is being such a grump when it comes to this, he really does, after all, if Bash and his friends started poking fun at him having a mom that’s a ghost hunter he would be a little embarrassed about that as well. But that doesn’t mean he won’t stop thinking that his friend’s parents are the coolest.

“Okay first of all you are not a loser,” Randy argues as he unlocks the door to his house, taking off his shoes and heading towards the kitchen, man he’s hungry. “After all you’re not the one with a keytar, remember?” Just as he was about to open the fridge, he spots a sticky note with his mom’s handwriting, she’s going to be gone for the next couple of days. No surprises there really and that just means Randy will get to have the left-over pizza all for himself-cool.

Danny’s laugh snaps Randy out of his thoughts, it wasn’t a sarcastic or bitter snort that comes out of him so he’ll definitely call this a win, “Yeah I guess you’re in even worse shape than I am, I’m definitely praying for you buddy.”

Randy takes it back, he would rather deal with Danny being a grump than this, “Hey, you were supposed to say, ‘No, you aren’t a loser Randy, you’re too bruce to be one.’” He tried to mimic his friend’s voice but it only got a snort in return. He rolled his eyes, taking out a McEnergy (Now with 110% more caffeine!) before going up the stairs and towards his room.

“You know I can’t lie well.” Danny says, and Randy was about to open his mouth, only to stop once he opened the door.

Did a cowboy just jump out of his window?

Shit, was he being robbed?

“Randy, you there?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. But I think I’m going to have to call you right back.” He hung up on Danny before his friend could say anything else. He did a quick scan around the room, noting that anything that has some sort of value was still in its place, which confused him even more and put him on edge. Should-should he call the cops?

His eyes landed on something that wasn’t in his room before. Laying innocently on his table was an ornate wooden box, it was smooth and shiny, with intricate designs forming a circle with a golden insignia in the center that almost looks like a ‘G’ on the lid. It looked like it should belong in a museum, or in his grandma’s attic back in Japan.

Now Randy may not be the smartest person on the earth, but he has watched a lot of horror movies over the years, and when there’s a mysterious almost ancient box just sitting innocently in your room, it’s almost never a good thing. He should just dump it in the swamp, or sink it into the lake just right outside the city, it’s what a smart person would do.

...

But then again Randy was not the smartest person so he just had to open the box.

“The Ninjanomicon…” The words slipped out of his mouth before he even knew what he was saying, which weirded him out a little but he quickly brushed that aside when he threw the weird book over his shoulder. He looked down at the box to see if there was anything else and there was. He felt his heart stop when he saw a familiar red and black mask with a note attached to it.

You are the Ninja, It read.

Wait, hold on.

Pause for a minute.

He’s the Ninja?!

“Oh. My. Sweet!” Randy didn’t hesitate to put the mask on his head, the mask glowed and strange symbols encircled him, turning into strands of red and black cloth and enveloping him in an awesome suit. Meanwhile his mind was cycling through hundreds of years of fighting knowledge within seconds, power was seeping into his body, he felt more energized, and felt like he could do things he couldn’t dream of!

He couldn't believe this.

He, Randy Cunningham, is the Ninja, the sworn protector of Norisvile!

Just wait until he tells his friends about this, Howard is going to flip out and he could rub it into Danny’s face that the Ninja really did exist! But just as he was about to get his phone to call Howard about it, he saw one more note at the bottom of the box.

You can’t tell anyone.

“Aw, now that’s wonk!"

And the sucky part is that I can’t tell anyone, not even my bff Howard. Not because he has a big mouth (which he does-sorry Howard). I mean I trust Howard that he won’t tell a soul about my secrets, but the box did say that, ‘I can’t tell anyone.’ Maybe I could just tell Danny? I mean he doesn’t even go here and I know without a doubt that he won’t tell a soul, especially not after the summer of 2010. I still get chills thinking about it.

“Alright, pencils down!”

And now I’m starting to think this wasn’t the best topic for my essay, nice job Cunningham, you’ve only been a ninja for a week and you’re already screwing it up.

Meanwhile in Amity Park:

Danny was tired, absolutely freaking tired.

Danny let out a yawn as the English teacher, a middle-aged guy named Mr. Lancer, continued to drone on about…something or other. The fourteen year-old can’t really seem to find the energy to care what his teacher was talking about. Too busy trying to stay awake in order to avoid getting in trouble on the first day of school.

Mr. Lancer was writing something on the board when Danny had to shake his head in order for his eyes to open. A few of his classmates looked at him weirdly before going back to doing anything that doesn’t include writing down what the teacher was putting up. Some were texting on their phones under their desks, or passing notes when Mr. Lancer’s back is turned, or in Dash’s case aiming spitballs at people’s heads.

Danny felt something slimy hit the back of his neck followed by a few snickers from the jocks behind him. Great, Danny has only attended high school for only two days and he already hates it here.

The bell rings and sighs of relief fill the room as students pack their bags and rush out the door, ignoring Mr. Lancer’s scolding about how he’s the one who dismisses students, not the bell. But it fell on deaf ears and soon the English teacher gave up muttering something about needing to eat lunch anyways.

“Yo Danny!” Danny turned his head to see his best friends, Sam and Tucker, walking towards him from their respective classes.

Danny let out a yawn, “Hey guys.”

“Jeez, you look like a wreck.” Sam gave him a look of concern as she walked past Danny to shove some books into your locker.

“Yeah, your parents still working on that portal?” A couple of students who overheard Tucker let out a couple snickers, making Danny sigh. Just like Danny predicted, the moment he stepped into school he instantly heard jokes left and right at his expense. Mostly about how his parents latest project will blow half the town to smithereens. It’s really not that unusual compared to the other comments he heard before, but just once Danny would like to have regular parents, who have regular jobs, so that way he could have a chance of a social life. Is that too much to ask?

“Yeah,” Danny let out another yawn as the trio made their way towards the cafeteria, “it’s gotten to a point where Jazz and I are sleeping up at the Opt-Center, which somehow is worse than dealing with all the construction down in the basement.” He rubs his back absentmindedly, still sore from sleeping on the floor for the past three nights.

“I still don’t get why you just didn’t ask to go stay over at Tucker’s.”

“Yeah man, is it because of the meat sweat? Cause Foleys don’t do meat sweat.” That earned a snort from Sam as they turned a corner,

“Oh yeah? What about that time-”

“We do not speak about that time!”

“Guys would you just cut it out!” Danny snaps. Both the goth and the tech geek stopped their argument to blink at Danny in surprise, even Danny was surprised at his own outburst. Guilt starting to swell at the bottom of his gut. “Sorry. Look, you guys can go ahead and grab some food, I’ll just be outside taking a nap.” Without another word Danny turned around and made his way to the field.

It took a while for Danny to find a secluded spot outside, especially one where it was far enough away from the football field so Dash wouldn’t see him, but once he did find a spot, it didn’t take long for Danny to close his eyes and get a quick nap in.

Only for it to be ruined by his phone ringing. A very familiar ringtone grating at his ears.

At first he ignored it, too busy enjoying the nice early-autumn breeze. Eventually it stopped and Danny was able to fully enjoy the peace and quiet, soon he felt himself getting more drowsy and was about to fall asleep when his phone rang once again. A part of him wanted to ignore his phone, turn it off so he could have some peace and quiet for the rest of lunch, but he decided against it. He knows that ringtone anywhere, the annoying peppy tune that made Danny’s ears bleed and glared at the phone in annoyance.

Stupid Randy and his stupid ringtone.

Danny picked up the call on its third ring. “What do you want?”

His friend snorted, though it did sound a little out of breath, “Rude.”

“You would be too if you had to sleep in the Opt-Center for the third night in a row.”

“Please, I won’t be able to sleep until I try every single invention your parents created. Your parents are ghost hunters dude- ghost hunters! That is like the brucest thing ever!” There was something weird going on with Randy’s voice, it sounded like it was muffled with something. But that’s not Danny’s concern at the moment, right now Danny wants this conversation to be done so he could at least sleep for the last twenty minutes of lunch.

“Yeah sure, I think you’re the only person in the world who thinks being real-life ghost hunters are ‘bruce’. Anyways, is there a reason why you’re calling me?” And disturbing me from my well deserved nap?

That made Randy pause for a moment, “Oh right, forgot for a moment.” Right after he said that, a huge BANG! Could be heard on the other side of the line followed by a huge roar that made Randy let out a shriek and Danny to pull his phone away to save his poor ear drums.

“Uh…everything okay over there?” Now, Danny knows Randy is a trouble magnet, he’s known the dude since he was like six, but this sounds a lot more dangerous than Bash and his friends chasing Randy down the hall. He might actually be concerned for the guy.

“Oh yeah, I’m doing awso- OOF!” He sounds like he just slammed into some lockers, it made Danny winced. Randy let out a groan, before pausing and muttering something about how he wasn’t getting pwned. Which made Danny even more confused.

“Right! Okay,” Randy grunts, “so I have this friend…named uh Reginald-yeah! And he may or may not have recently found out that he is the next protector for his city!” Something heavy pounding on the floor could be heard on the other line, luckily getting further away as Randy kept talking.

“Okay…”

“Yeah so Reginald Bagel- yup that’s his name- Reginald Bagel is the new hero for the city with little to no experience and now he’s fighting a monster and he doesn’t know how to beat it!” Somewhere in the distance something roared. Randy let out a nervous chuckle.

“Thoughts?” Danny had to process this for a minute, trying to figure out what the hell Randy was talking about. “I’m sorry what?”

A huge crash was heard on the other side and there was that roar again, louder this time.

“Just answer the question!”

“Okay, okay fine!” Danny thought for a moment, “Okay so is there a tutorial?”

“What?” Heavy pounding was heard on the other side of the phone, getting closer but Danny pressed on.

“You know a tutorial, how to hero 101, instructions, anything?”

"OH MY JUICE! I forgot the instructions! Thank you so much Danny, I owe you one, bye!” With a ‘click’ the call ended leaving Danny’s head swirling around with questions, that phone call made him antsy and on edge. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep, much less focus for the rest of the day when he’s too busy worrying about his friend. And of course this was a perfectly good time for a stream of cold milk to be dumped dumped right on top of his head, followed by snickers of the last person he wanted to see at the moment.

“Whoops, sorry Fen-turd, I guess I must have mistaken you for a trashcan.” That earned a couple more snorts from Dash’s friends.

“Eh, I’m pretty sure it’s a common mistake, especially with that kind of fashion sense!” Paulina butted in. The group of jocks and cheerleaders continued to laugh as they walked away. Leaving Danny soaking in a pile of milk.

“Great,” Danny mutters as he shook his head to get some of the excess milk off, “This day cannot get anymore worse, right?”

“AHHHHHH!”

So apparently Danny was wrong, it can get so much worse.

Let’s set the scene shall we?

At 3:30 pm Danny, Sam, and Tucker took the bus to Fenton Works, in order to study, do some homework, decide that’s dumb, and spend the rest of the evening playing video games.

At 3:48 pm, the trio of friends went inside. They said hi to Jazz, who was busy getting homework done, battled an army of possessed hot dogs in the fridge to get some snacks, and planned on heading up to Danny’s room to take advantage of the quiet for as long as possible.

At 4:00 pm, Jack Fenton barged into Danny’s room dragging all the kids down to the basement, where Mr. Fenton gave a speech about his hardships, setbacks, and his love for fudge, before unveiling the finished ghost portal.

At 4:15 pm, Jack would have continued speaking for the next hour, if Maddie Fenton didn’t interrupt her husband saying that the sooner he turns on the portal, the sooner they could all dig into Jack’s celebratory fudge.

It’s 4:16 pm, and everyone is waiting with bated breath as Maddie and Jack Fenton finish the last touches of the portal, before putting the plug in. For a second it seemed like everyone was holding their breath and Danny couldn't help but feel excited. His parents were about to tear a hole in the fabric of reality!

Except instead of a big flash, there was a small spark and then nothing.

Around 4:45 pm, after almost thirty minutes of trying to find the mistake, to correct any miscalculations, anything and everything to make the portal work, nothing had any effect. Finally, Maddie let out a sigh and said that they should stop and continue to work on it tomorrow. She said sorry to the kids and guided Jack upstairs telling him that they will just break out the failure Fudge instead.

It’s 4:46 pm, Jazz left soon after their parents did, leaving the trio of fourteen year-olds alone in the basement lab. While Tucker and Sam were taking a look at the lab, as this was probably their third time down there, Danny can’t seem to stop staring at the portal. His parents worked on this for almost two weeks, with years before that saving up money for the materials, and years spent on calculations dedicated to this stupid contraption. He’s angry that after all that work his parents put into it, it still didn’t work.

It’s 4:50 and after four minutes of looking, Sam had an amazing idea, a wonderful and awesome idea. And while Danny did have his doubts and was a little nervous, Danny could admit he was a little curious. So he donned a hazmat suit that his dad gave him for his fourteenth birthday, ripping off the embarrassing sticker of his dad off his chest before stepping into the skeleton of the ghost-portal. Or Fenton-Portal as his dad called it. He was about five steps in before everything went to shit.

At exactly 4:51 pm, Danny tripped on some wiring. Not wanting to land face first on metal flooring, he leaned his weight onto one side, not knowing that his hand touching the wall was actually pressing the on switch. Danny heard a little, ‘click,’ and before he could really process it, he was instantly shocked with painful volts of electricity. It was burning him alive, sizzling his insides, and making him numb to everything but pain.

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

Pain.

PAIN.

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

He closed his eyes in pain, it sent his breath away, made him feel his heart stopped beating, and then all he saw was white. His head was all spacey, and floaty, numbing the pain.

At 4:52 pm, the portal stopped buzzing and instead of an empty hole in the wall there was a swirl of neon green, a dull hum in the air, and a fourteen year-old kid stumbling out of the portal.

“DANNY!” Sam and Tucker both shouted, diving towards their friend to break his fall, Sam was on the ground with Tucker landing ungracefully on top of her. She let out a muffled "Oomf!" from the unexpected weight, she expects another weight on top of Tucker, only for it to never come. Instead, she felt something cold and weird flowing past her making her shiver. When she opened her eyes, she was met with a passed out, white-haried Danny. It surprised her so much she let out a scream and shoved Tucker out of the way.

“What the hell!” Tucker shouted, his arms flailing before landing on his butt. The two teens took a minute to catch their breath, the eerily green glow being the only source of light in the basement. Sam was the first to recover, slowly crawling back to Danny. She took note of his white hair, his inverted-colored hazmat suit, and sickly pale skin, definitely nothing like Danny from thirty minutes ago. But what scared her more was how his chest didn’t move, and that he was cold to the touch- to the point that she feels like she would get frostbite if she just let her hand stay on his shoulder. Fuck, did she just kill her best friend?

“Sam!” Tucker’s shout snapped her out of her thoughts, it made her aware of the unbearable pressure that was clogging up her throat. But she quickly ignored that to turn her attention to her other friend, who was pale from fright, with his eyes widening in horror. At first Sam was confused as to what Tucker might be seeing, until Tucker pointed a finger and Sam’s eyes followed where the finger was pointing at. Sam must have been too stuck in her head to notice neon green eyes staring straight into her soul.

“D-Danny.” Her voice came out as a whisper, she didn’t know what to do and she’s pretty sure she can’t just type: ‘I accidently killed my best friend, only he’s not dead, he has white hair and glowing green eyes. What do I do?’ on google and expect a solid and helpful answer.

“You alright man?” Tucker came in closer, still pale, and still hesitant, but still there. Danny however did not look like he was present at at. His eyes were roaming over everything, but it seemed like he was not processing what was happening. Sam was just about to tell Tucker to call for Mr. and Mrs. Fenton when she heard the familiar sounds of heavy boots storming down the stairs. It seems like that snapped Danny out of whatever he had going on, since his eyes started to widen, and he looked like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

“Kids, is everything okay down here!” Jack turned the corner, only to freeze his eyes widened as he took the scene in front of him. Maddie came down a second later, her mouth gaping, and shoulders slumping. Oh god, Sam was a dead, dead girl wasn’t she.

“Uh… Mr. and Mrs. Fenton-”

“It’s not what it looks like!” For a second Sam shot Tucker a glare before elbowing him in the sides, the geek let out a yelp before giving her his own glare.

“The ghost portal…” The Fentons slowly made their way towards the teens, Sam casted her eyes down waiting for the inevitable anger.

“The ghost portal works! Ha-ha, I did it!” If this was anger, Jack had a weird way of showing it, especially with his dance.

“Oh Jack, we must have forgotten to include any calculations on the chances of the portal having a delayed start!” Maddie exclaimed, slapping a head over her forehead as if that was a bigger deal than her youngest child’s changes.

“Delayed starts- hah! Who cares about that, Maddie, when we have a fully working ghost portal on our hands!” Jack’s laugh seemed to vibrate the very walls and floor of the lab. The big man took Maddie into his arms swinging her around as the couple continued to celebrate and laugh, Sam took a chance to look at Tucker only to find he was just as confused as she was. Finally when Jack set Maddie back down on the ground, the woman seemed to take notice of the frozen teens, even with her head covered it was obvious she was a little confused when she looked at the teens.

“Where’s Danny?” Huh? Sam quickly looked down to see she was carrying nothing, but that can’t be right. She can still feel Danny, his tense shoulders, his fidgeting, she could even feel and hear him sucking in breath! But she can’t see him. She turned to look at Danny’s parents, both growing more anxious the longer she didn't answer. And she really doesn’t want them to freak out, cause if they freak out Sam’s pretty sure she will freak out. Luckily Tucker was there,

“Wait, you mean you didn’t see him? He told us he was going out to Smarty-Mart to go get some snacks!” Oh seriously Tuck?! Why would they believe that? The closest Smarty-Mart is almost two miles away! The adults were quiet for a moment, just staring at the two visible, and one invisible, teens. Sam couldn’t help but fidget under their gaze. And just when Sam thought they were about to demand where Danny actually is, both parents smiled, and Sam let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Well, alright then!” Jack said as he dragged Maddie up the stairs with him as they celebrated their working ghost-portal. When they couldn’t hear their voices anymore did Tucker and Sam allow themselves to turn back to where Danny was supposed to be. At first Sam saw nothing, just her hands holding nothing. Then she saw something starting to appear, it was like watching something with a bad TV reception, all staticky and at times hard to see, but then Sam saw neon green eyes, white hair, and a black and white hazmat suit. And just when Sam could see Danny clearly, a bright light circled around Danny making both Sam and Tucker shield their eyes and take a step back. When the light faded, Sam was met with a familiar blue-eyed, black haired teen with a white and black hazmat suit.

No one said anything, they were just three teens staring at each other in an almost catatonic state. A phone vibrated off to the side, it was Danny’s phone. Without thinking Tucker took Danny’s phone, unlocked it and stared at the screen.

“Uh, your dad wants you to pick up some more fudge while you’re at the store.” That seemed to snap Danny out of his trance.

“What the fuck just happened!”

It was exactly 5:12 pm when Danny calmed down enough to sneak out of the basement and head straight towards the direction where Smarty-Mart was. It took Danny an extra hour to get there and back due to his new…abilities, kicking in at the most inappropriate times. In his hands he held a bucket of his dad’s favorite fudge, and some other things to make it seem like he actually went to the store for him and his friends.

It was 11:15 pm and Sam and Tucker were still talking about the portal incident to make sense of it all, while Danny just stared at his untouched candy, waiting for everything to just make sense. And when he felt his phone vibrate in his back pocket, Danny took a quick look to see that Randy had texted him. And while he knows it’s a bad idea to let his texts go unanswered, Danny just couldn’t. So he turned off his phone, tossed it to the other side of his bed, and continued to stare at his candy.

[cardcaptorsakura96]

Taxes, Taxes, Taxes- Chapter 10

Fandom: Supergirl

Characters: Kara Danvers, Clark Kent, Samantha Arias, Lena Luthor, Lillian Luthor, Ruby Arias, Oliver Queen, John Stewart, Diana Prince, Bruce Wayne, Barry Allen, J'onn J'onnz, Alfred Pennyworth, Lois Lane, Cat Grant

Summary: What if superheroes had to pay a property damage tax every time they had a fight in the city?

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9

As Kara flew, she replayed over and over again what Clark had just said to her.

I just received a distress signal on my device from my mom. It looks like it is coming from the farm. I am still far out in space and won’t make it in time. Please hurry and help her!

Martha Kent was the first one who welcomed Kara to Earth. She was actually the one who found her when she crash-landed on the planet. She was so kind and loving which was something Kara so desperately needed after seeing her own world shatter before her very eyes. Once Kara got settled at the farm, Martha immediately told Clark about her. 

It wasn’t that Clark wasn’t welcoming. He was more cautious. Kara was initially understanding at first. Unfortunately, Zod had come before her and caused havoc on Earth. After Clark sent him to the phantom zone, it took him over a year to rebuild people’s trust in him. Now, he had Kara, a new Kryptonian popping into his life, and he wasn’t sure what her intentions were. Every time he looked at Kara, he seemed conflicted about how to respond. So she gave him space. She stayed at the farm while Clark continued his life in Metropolis. It wasn’t bad. Martha was a second mother to her. She would offer her advice and help her acclimate to society. Kara knows that part of the reason that they bonded was through their tragic losses. Kara had lost everything she knew, and Martha had just lost the love of her life. They leaned on each other to try to continue living. They talked about everything, but the thing that made her the most happy was Martha’s willingness to listen to her tales of Krypton. Clark avoided the subject like the plague, but Martha fully immersed herself. She listened eagerly through all her stories and a lot of the literature that the Fortress of Solitude had. She had also started to learn Kryptonian. She was at a beginner level still, but it made Kara’s heart swell that there was someone else with whom she could converse in her mother language. She couldn’t imagine another person in her life being taken again after everything she went through. 

Kara went as fast as she could. She thinks that she broke Mach 5 which she knows will put her in the DEO and possibly the IRS radar again especially if there was property damage. However, Kara didn’t give a damn. She needed to make sure Martha was safe. When she saw the farm in her field of vision, she had to fight her instinct to burst through the door. She remembered how being rash just weeks before nearly led to her almost losing her and Barry’s life, and she didn’t want the same thing to happen to Martha. She flew around the farm while using her X-ray vision. She didn’t see anything unusual until she saw the house. What she saw caused her to go from being frighten to more confused than anything else. She landed as gently as she could on the ground (due to Martha going off on both Clark and Kara for leaving craters across her lawn) and quickly walked to the house. She looked under the mat on the porch to get the spare key and entered the house. She heard noises coming from the kitchen and followed them. Once she got there, she saw Clark in his Superman costume sitting next to an embarrassed Martha in a robe at the kitchen table. 

She scanned the room and noticed that there were two long-stemmed candles in the middle of the table and two plates that had little bits of half-eaten food on them. Next to the plates were two wine glasses. One was empty and the other was a quarter of the way full. There were rose petals on the floor that led out of the kitchen into the hallway. If she had to guess, Kara thinks they probably lead to Martha’s bedroom. She then looked back and forth between Clark and Martha once more. Martha still looked like she wanted to crawl into a hole and die somewhere. Clark had an unnerving look about him. She had seen that look before when he was about to go into a rage. She can tell that he is holding back by the way he is gripping the table. Considering that it is made from nth metal (the strongest in the galaxy) and was starting to bend slightly tells her that something happened. She had a pretty good idea of what happened but didn’t want to assume. 

Please let this idiot not have called me because his mother actually decided to have a love life. 

She looked back and forth between them hesitantly and said, “Clark, you told me to come here because there was an emergency, but it doesn’t seem like there is one taking place. Was the emergency device activated in error or did something else happen?”

Clark stared at her coldly for a moment and said, “Since I brought you in, I didn’t expect much, but I damn well-expected loyalty.”

Kara looked back at him shocked, and said, “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Clark sneered at her and said, “Don’t feign innocence with me. You know what you did, and I need you to terminate the contract you have with them right now.”

Kara looked at him surprised for a minute and then it dawned on her. 

Don’t tell me this whiny bitch went to tattle on me to mommy.

Kara clenched her fist. She knew that Clark would get irritated. That was her goal, but she hated that Martha got dragged into this mess and ruined her evening. She took a deep breath to try to keep calm. 

Kara forced a smile and said, “I am taking a guess you heard about my partnership with the hospital.”

Clark slammed his hand on the table and yelled, “You’re damn right! You took a job with the enemy!”

Martha looked confused between Kara and Clark and said, “I don’t understand. How is working at the hospital some type of betrayal?”

Clark turned to Martha with a disgusted look while pointing his finger directly at Kara.

“You always defended her saying that she came to Earth to do no harm and that we should trust her. But she has been working with the enemy this whole time.”

“And who exactly is the enemy?” asked Martha hesitantly.

Clark turned towards Kara and spat, “Lena Luthor.”

“Lena is a civilian who runs the local hospital for children in my area. There are no records of her doing anything nefarious or the hospital for that matter. She is not only smart but very kind-hearted,” said Kara lofty. 

Clark smirked and said, “Oh, I thought that you were smart enough not to get sucked into the Luthor’s charm. They appear nice, but they are nothing but a bunch of vipers.”

Kara smirked and said, “I didn’t realize that you have a grudge against anyone last named Luthor. Doesn’t this go against the Almighty Superman’s policy about tolerance and acceptance?”

“They deserve nothing from us!” exclaimed Clark. 

Kara raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are you really going to let your hatred for one person spread to everyone else?”

Clark shook his head, scoffed, and said, “I knew that you would be unreasonable which is why I thought mom could talk some sense into you.”

He turned to his mom expecting some backup. However, when he looked at his mom, she stared at with with a rage in her eyes that caused his face to go pale. 

“Mom, why….”

Martha held up her hand to silence him. He gulped and sat silent.

Kara had to stop herself from bursting out laughing. 

Can’t believe he is such a mama’s boy.

Martha rubbed the back of her head for a moment and turned to look back at Clark with an angry glare in her eyes which caused him to back up a little. 

“Let me see if I understand this. You forced me to hurry out of bed and didn’t give me a chance to put on any clothes because of some big emergency….”

“But mom…”

“Excuse me, did I say that I was finished speaking?”

Clark looked down and said, “No ma’am.”

“I thought so. You bring me out here half dress because you said that Kara was in some type of crisis and all of this is because she is working with Lena Luthor? You have known Lena all of her life. Where the hell is all of this aggression coming from?”

That last statement piqued Kara’s interest. 

Kara frowned and asked, “Wait. Martha is making it sound like that not only have you known each other for a while, but you have at least been friendly towards one another in the past.”

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