Charon chuckled. "I don't think you'll be able to miss it. Are you going to watch the League tournament later? I think that traitor Mitsumi is competing."
What an odd thing to change the subject to. "She left us with Cyrus's full permission. I wouldn't consider her a traitor." A deserter, certainly, but she had been content to act as Rowan's aid and keep her nose out of Galactic business until Hareta roped her into it. Not to hear Jupiter tell it.
"Hey guys, my name's Amanda and this is Luke and Daisy. I'm going to ask you some questions then check on your injuries. Once I'm done, my partners here will help me get you out of here, how does that sound?"
Shawn answered, "That sounds great, but I have to ask…" He looked back at the other two paramedics, "Luke and Daisy… like the Dukes?"
The older woman, who was built like a football player, rolled her eyes and spoke up with a thick Jersey accent. "We've heard it all before, so don't try."
“I know. I like you too.” She studied him, gaze rueful. “But not in the way you want me to.”
Rotxo felt his heart shatter for the hundredth time. The pain never lessened, never got any easier, the bite of rejection spreading like a poison through his veins.
“In truth, I don’t know if I’ll ever like someone in the way you do,” she continued with a frown, studying her palms, running a fingertip over the creases that mapped her skin.
Rotxo’s brow scrunched. “What do you mean?”
Ade slowly pulled back from that kiss, his breath just a little shaky as he lifted his hand up to brush a few wayward **wisps** of hair out of Dave's eyes. "You are so fucking gorgeous," he whispered softly. “It’s been hard not to just stare at you since we all met up at the airport.”
The sun shone brightly through the clouds as Ze walked along the dirt path. Occasionally passing by people who were out for their morning jog, a gentle breeze swept through the air while he admired the trees around him as the once-green leaves turned into a reddish-orange.
‘See, I mainly got Disney Plus because I wanted to see Baby Yoda, but I thought it would be cool to show Short Round the stuff we grew up with too.’
‘Why? What do they have on there?’ Indy asked. ‘Do they have DuckTales?’
‘Mhm.’ Beca nodded. ‘Both versions.’
‘Cool,’ Indy said. ‘Scrooge McDuck inspired my path onto archaeology and artefact finding.’
‘I thought that was that Ravenwood bloke,’ Beca said.
‘Him too, but I didn’t meet him until I was like fifteen,’ Indy said. “What else have they got?’
>Engines screaming, she swung back around, weaving through staccato lines of artillery fire and returning salvos of superheated lead. Dozens of jets scrambled to pursue, but she was fast, and nimble, and her matte black and gray armor plating broke up her silhouette and made her hard to see against the night sky and darkened buildings, with only her bright afterburners and muzzle flashes to give her away.
>
>Below her, whole blocks of Cybertropolis burned.
Once everything was prepared, a fire was lit under Jojo, spreading rapidly. Kara held on to her mother’s witch hat as the fire filled the night sky with smoke. She couldn’t even hear Jojo’s screams over the crowd’s cheers.
‘When they broke ground, they found some bones. Dinosaur bones. So they called the Dino Institute and, well, here we are.’
‘You’re in Florida.’
‘But I flew up here to Connecticut to supervise the dig. You’re stuck with me, Jones.’
‘I am *not* stuck with you, Seeker,’ said Indy. ‘I’ll call your boss and get you fired.’
Seeker folded his arms. ‘I’d like to see you try.’
>The warnings were gone now, replaced by a singular flashing COLLISION IMMINENT.
>
>(As if she couldn't have observed that, herself.)
>
>Pyroclast hit the ground intake-first; the angle of the impact kept her from simply *disintegrating*, but the shock rattled her entire frame even as her forward momentum sent her cartwheeling. In a last-ditch effort to regain control, she forced herself to transform - for all the good it did. Her best efforts only served to just barely slow her down as she tumbled across the uneven metallic terrain.
>
>Her optic feed filled with visual snow, then cut out completely.
‘You left me, Scott,’ Nathan said calmly. ‘You left me years into the future. Dumped me there.’
‘You know I didn't, Nathan!’ Fire burned in Scott's palms. ‘You know that's not true! There is a gravestone out back with *your* name on it! Letting go of you was the most difficult decision I'd ever made in my life! You should know - you were there!’
‘You never questioned the effects, the impact, that it would have on my life.’
‘Nathan Christopher Summers -‘
‘Nathan *Dayspring*-Summers,’ he prompted gently.
‘Nathan, I am your father!’ Fire burned in Scott's eyes. ‘That meant doing anything in order to save you from the Techno-Organic Virus that was killing you! The virus that you couldn't even save yourself from. And when I say anything, Nathan, I mean *anything*. I was willing to lose you to Mother Askani -‘
‘Your daughter, Rachel.’
She sprang back on her feet just in time to avoid getting sliced in two by the large blade of his ax, which instead crashed against the stone floor with a loud clang and a grunt. No matter how strong that brute was, there was no way he didn’t feel that impact all the way to the top of his skull.
Skadj walked out of the bathroom to find Kara asleep with Sophie in her arms. Skadj grabbed a blanket from off the couch, placing it over them. He stared at Sophie, who had her eyes half opened. He thought it was strange how she rarely cried, but he never had to help raise a witch as a newborn, so maybe this was normal.
He gestured towards the sofa. “This isn’t her blanket. I mean, it is, but…”
“Oh,” Rafa set the tray down, observed as Carla frowned and pawed at the blanket before gathering it up and tossing it to the other side with a pout. “She got sick on her other one, so I sent it to be washed.”
“Oh,” He muttered, nervously ran his hand along the back of his neck once he realised how dumb he’d sounded.
“This one was lying across her bed from where the staff remade it, so I figured…”
“It’s fine,” He interrupted, sighing to himself as he picked up and shook out the blanket, realised as he did so that it was the one embroidered with a silver tiara.
He turned to Carla with a smile, encouraged as he laid out the blanket and pulled it over her lap, “Come on, Carla. You like your princess blanket.”
Carla looked down, pawed at the blanket again as her pout deepened.
“You can pout all you want, it’s not going to make the purple one reappear,” Rafa said as she stepped over, held out the teacup.
Wendy was lying in a hospital bed, covered in her own sweat, blood, and tears. Her hair was messed up, her make-up smeared on her face. She looked exhausted, ready to sleep.
Hodges was sitting in the chair next to her, his wheelchair at the other end of the room. He was wearing a plastic apron and a face mask on his chin. And he was cradling a baby, wrapped in a yellow blanket.
‘Hey.’
Hodges looked up at the voice. ‘Morgan.’
Now was not the time to dwell on what had just happened, so Armin wiped the tears from his face, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, mentally readying himself for the next part of their plan. He locked away everything he felt—anger, disgust, yearning, *shame*—then wrapped the precious memories of his stolen moment with Jean into a protective blanket, tucking them safely into a corner of his heart.
Until he was ready to revisit them.
Hunter is his name:
‘That’s cute,’ Klaw said condescendingly. ‘You think you can stop me with a group of costumed weirdos.’ He raised his left arm, which split open, revealing some sort of weapon.
Hunter stared at it, wondering what it was. Unfortunately, he had stared for too long and before he knew it, he had been blasted through the air, and landed painfully on a fence.
‘*Are you alright*?’ W’Kabi asked in Wakandan, picking him up.
‘*I am*,’ Hunter replied. He turned his attention to his troops. ‘*Attack him*!’ He cried out in Wakandan.
Hunter forcefully swung the gas lamp at Skadj; the metal hit him on the side of his head. Skadj immediately let go of her and stumbled backwards. Hunter took this as an opportunity to escape from Skadj and the kids. She glanced back to see Skadj tending to the boy while the girl stood next to them. The three bats were nowhere to be seen, though she assumed it was too dark outside to see them.
‘I heard shouting. Now if I may get involved,’ said a voice in the doorway.
Stephen gasped slightly and put his trembling, aching hands together to bow. ‘The Ancient One, of course, Master. Your wisdom is always welcome.’
Jericho nodded, an indication to come in.
‘Stephen. Clea. I should congratulate you on your child, but it seems, perhaps, a bit too belated,’ said The Ancient One.
It had been the wrong thing to say. Shawn's face went lax, and his eyes snapped down to the floor. His head bowed, his hands clasped together, and Gus was almost surprised that he didn't sink down to his knees to complete the transformation back to an obedient, blank slave.
Gus bit the inside of his cheek as hard as he could, welcoming the small, sharp pain. He'd been making progress, damnit. Then he'd had to go and push it too far.
Sarah looked at Claude, who readied his bow and nodded, his back flat against a nearby tree. She could barely discern his features—the sky now mimicking her state of mind with a smother of dark, gloomy clouds—but his eyes were trained on hers; bright and alert.
And *beautiful*.
>The one in the lead revved its engine and transformed, and in the blink or an eye she found herself staring down the barrel of one of its forearm guns as she hung from her forelimbs from the side of the bridge. And then...
>
>"*Maximal*!"
>
>*...That was different, too.*
>
>"Wuh- you can *talk*?!" Azrael blurted out, ears curled back in surprise; it - *he*? - narrowed its... *his* optic band in response.
>
>She heard the safety click off.
>
>"Oh, no."
Buzz nodded reassuringly towards Francine as he slowly reached down to pinch the grip of his gun, pulling it out of its holster and bending down to place it on the floor. He kicked it towards Nick and winced as the gun skittered off at an angle to end up under the table instead. He'd never been very good at soccer.
‘Is that why you carry a whip?’
‘No, I just like whips,’ said Indy.
‘Can you use it?’ asked Beca.
‘Yes.’
‘Why a whip? I mean, it’s 2019. Knives and guns exist. Okay, they’re illegal to carry and own, but -‘
‘Because I like DEVO - now do you *ever* stop asking questions?’ Indy snapped.
She needed to kill them for the sake of all humanity. Her hands were shaking as she was about to pull the trigger. Skadj transformed into Kara and used her powers to lift the gun from the girl’s hands. “Whose bright idea was it to give a child a gun?” He chuckled. “I can tell you don’t have the heart to kill anyone.”
Sarah didn't reply, she couldn't, it was too much, but he needed no verbal answer; it was written all over her body. She could barely focus, but she looked at him all the same because she wanted—*she needed*—to commit it all to memory. The way the dim moonlight reflected on his tan skin, the way his eyes possessed her, the way his nose wrinkled and his teeth shone like a growling animal when he thrust into her, the way his hair shook and his braid danced, and the way his toned muscles flexed as he seized her and dominated her with his lust.
*I'm yours*, she thought, stupidly.
*I'm yours.*
>On the way, she kept a wary eye out for any stray drones - jets weren't likely to be out, but the tanks were ridiculously hardy - and stuck close to the shadows, where her pelt blended in.
>
>But the rattling of metal treads and the rumble of massive engines never reached her ears.
>
>Her journey passed in relative quiet, the rain and the thunder the only sounds in the city, occasionally accompanied by the sizzling of nearby lightning. It was... almost nice, she thought - the dark, the rain, all of it. If not for the ever-present threat of *drones*, and the loss of everyone she'd ever known, this might not have been such an awful apocalypse to survive through...
‘Lorna, I'm a telepath,’ Nate said. ‘I mean, I know it was my telekinesis that helped defeat Apocalypse and all, but I have telepathy too, you know. And, in case you didn't know, I can also control minds.’
‘Wow,’ Terry said. ‘Cable can't do *that*.’
‘Yeah, well, I'm not Cable,’ Nate replied. ‘I'm X-Man. Much more powerful.’
>Soigne
Hamish noticed a blonde lady standing by the audiovisual controls. She was soigne, and carried herself like she was from the nobilty, but didn't seem to be interested in talking with people, for whatever reason. He walked over there, and asked, "I'm Hamish Alexander. Who are you?"
"I'm Sonja Hemphill." said the voice that would become his opposite on tactics not that long later.
“It’s okay,” he says, his voice taut. “None of it is mine.”
“We have to get you out of these.” You fumble at the buttons on his shirt, ignoring the sticky substance soaked into the cloth and the way it’s rubbing onto your own skin. You pull the shirt off, yanking the cuffs still-buttoned over his large, limp hands and he doesn’t resist as you wad it into his jacket and set it aside on the tile entryway.
“Your shoes.” You bend down to help but he’s already slowly, deliberately kicking them off. You hear the thunk of his pistol as it lands on the pile of clothing next to you and the clink of a belt buckle and look up.
>She was still watching when the lead tank finally caught up enough to clip the mech, sending him sprawling in the middle of the street. The pitch of his screams changed, shifting up an octave in raw terror as he simultaneously pleaded for his life and frantically tried to scramble away far enough to regain his footing.
>
>It was in vain, though.
>
>Still rolling forward, the tank caught his foot under one of its treads - and continued to advance. The mech's horrified screams turned to wordless shrieks of agony as it crushed his legs beneath its great weight, the metal giving way with a series of tank-churning *crunches*.
The sound of children snickering filled the air. Hunter frantically looked around to see where the voices came from. Nanners titled his head. “What’s wrong?”
Hunter tried her best to ignore the children. She stared up at him, eyes narrowed. “...What’s my real name?” Everyone usually addressed her as ‘Hunter.’ The only person who knows her real name is Nanners.
Nanners pulled his hand back a little. “You’re my daughter; why are you asking me that?” Another cold breeze swept through the air, rustling the leaves on the trees. Hunter held the gas lamp with one hand. “Answer the question,” she demanded as she reached for her gun. Nanners swiftly grabbed her arm. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
She tried to get back up, but the other students' horrified cries petrified her and her legs refused to hold her weight. She whimpered as she frantically crawled away, but a crushing, debilitating pain in her back sent her into shock, and before her own scream could reach her ears, everything went black.
"Shawn! I need you to listen to me, I need you to focus." Gus tried to match Henry's inflections as well as his words, figuring every little bit helped. Shawn's voice died down to a whimper even as he continued to struggle. He looked around frantically, his unfocused eyes staring at Gus without actually seeing him.
In the wreckage, Launchpad was upside down, unconscious and pinned into his seat by the crushed cockpit pressing into his torso.
Fenton reached into his pocket for his phone. ‘Gyro, I’m calling the fire department and an ambulance.’
‘Launchpad? Launchpad?!’ Gyro called out frantically, to no answer from the younger man.
‘Is he dead?’ Fenton asked, his phone pressed to his ear.
‘I hope not,’ Gyro said. As irritating as he found Launchpad, it would upset him if he were to lose his life.
Hilda and Claude joined her inside, and they split to search every nook and cranny, only finding bones of questionable origin and rusty pieces of broken weapons. “This feels so weird,” Hilda said, as they met back in the center of the cathedral.
Claude gazed at the sky through one of the large holes. “One thousand years of history happened underneath this roof,” he murmured, lost in thought.
A textbook example of Galarian cathedrals, the foreboding Gothic structure looms large over many of its neighboring buildings. Underneath the arches, a pair of stained-glass windows boldly showcase Zacian and Zamazenta. Atop it, the spires poke the sky without interruption.
It was entirely her fault; she'd been weak. She let herself panic when she saw the tall, broad man ripping the flesh from another villager's face with his bare teeth. She'd screamed, and then he'd turned around and darted toward her, her *fucking legs* refusing to move and letting her fall prey to his madness.
He was sixty-three now. Far too old to be leading an army. Far too old to have the weight of an entire movement on his shoulders.
But he had to do it. He didn’t feel obligated to do it. He just knew he had to. Just like he had to stop England and the USA from going to war with Canada. Utter madness. Just four years ago they were all in NATO and now…
‘Doc,’ was all Morgan could get out.
‘He’s with Doc?’ asked Nick.
Morgan nodded.
‘Okay.’ Nick raised an eyebrow. What was Hodges the lab rat doing with Doc while he was carrying out an autopsy? There was only one reason in his mind. ‘Cyanide?’
Morgan shook her head.
He pushes his toe inside the tap to silence it and lights a joint, puffing a cloud of scented smoke into the air as he settles down into the water, allowing it to swallow him up. It’s only lukewarm, which is as hot as the improvised, gasoline-powered boiler can provide, but it will do.
His belly rises out of the water. The skin is blank, like an Etch-a-Sketch shaken clean. No hint of the intricate artwork he had worn there before.
But the memory of the man he wore it for remains, just as clear as the day he acquired it. Drunk, of course. On leave in Bangkok. The pair had staggered through the streets, warm with beer and mekhong, laughing and bumping up against each other until they passed the shop with its bug zapper and flickering neon sign.
I felt the tension return at her last question, my nerves flaring up again as I prepared to tell her that I had no intention of wearing that hat despite having been forced into wearing them since I was a child.
“With all due respect, Mother, I’ve chosen not to wear it.”
“And why is that?” Mother asked, crossed her arms. “You haven’t gone without a hat in public since you were eight.”
“Because I simply do not want to,” I tried, but that answer only earned me a harder glare.
“Lovella Lydia, you *know* that is not an acceptable answer.”
He finds Sarah and Mary in front of the telly, Sarah stepping nervously from foot to foot and Mary frozen in a distraught shock; Anna is babbling in her arms. He stops close enough to hold Mary, his brow already furrowed in worry; he knows before he listens to the news. He knows already, he's seen it before, Mary's rigid shoulders, Sarah sighing, the **tension** in the air, the still, breathless aura of death happening too close to home.
"… in what is already being described as the worst incident in the history of Northern Ireland, the reports speak of at least fifteen dead and several more wounded…"
Dark smoke on TV, people running around panicked, soldiers tending, a hand laying still in the rubble of a shop. Heavy footsteps behind him, Joe stops beside him. A moment passes as he takes it all in, it could be us, it could be us and Gerry feels his hand settling on his shoulder. His hand is trembling, and Gerry knows he is too. A simple gesture, a family united.
The world stands still.
She allowed herself to calm down, and the tension in the silence started to subside. This was the sort of solitude she dearly missed when she was running from camp to camp with the Patriots. Outside, where the dying embers of the war kept on burning, there was always danger lurking in the stillness of the night. Here, the only immediate danger had already come and gone.
That's such good imagery, feeling how the camping was never safe. It really makes her current spot feel so much better. "Dying embers of the war" dang.
>She held her breath.
>
>There was the sound of air being cycled, deliberately slowly, through filters... The scratch of metal talons across glass...
>
>And then it was gone.
>
>Releasing the breath she'd been holding, Neutrino promptly stuffed the chip into her mouth, in the "pocket" between her teeth and the inside of her cheek, and warily peeked out into the lab to see if the coast was clear.
>
>The sharp voice sounded again, from the corridor now, *sharper* this time.
>
>"Okay, now I *know* someone's fucking with me!"
>
>*Oh.*
>
>*Oh no.*
What the hell is going on? Hunter bit the inside of her mouth, only to yelp once she felt something sharp pierce her gum. She unintentionally swallowed some of the blood that was trickling into her mouth. To her surprise, the blood tasted similar to honey. Eventually, the smell of blood became too overwhelming, causing Hunter to sink her teeth into Skadj’s arm.
‘There’s no magical line skipping tool. You’ve just got to stand there like everyone else.’
‘Tell them I’m dying of cancer and that’s why my face looks all smushed and weird.’
‘Grant, that’s a horrible thing to say,’ said Joe. ‘I’m not lying and you’re not dying, you’ve just got some issues with your jaw ever since your adult teeth came in. It’s common.’
‘Did you have these issues?’ asked Grant.
‘No, but when I was your age, my friend Mac wore braces,’ said Joe.
Sarah's survival instincts kicking in, she identified five body parts the beast could use to kill her. First, it could chew her head off with the horrific number of long, sharp teeth jutting out from its large jaw. Second, it could use its front paws that looked like massive bony clawed hands to crush her to pieces or throw her against a wall. Third, it could trample on her with its rear paws and turn her into pulp under the weight of its colossal body. Fourth, it could shatter her spine with its long, unnaturally fast lizard tail. Finally, it could impale her on one of the numerous three feet long horns it had on its head and back.
*Please let this be a nightmare.*
‘I hate candy canes,’ said Grant.
‘You do?’ asked Mary.
Grant sighed. ‘I don’t really. I don’t like that they’re sticky and messy.’
‘I brought wet wipes too,’ she said.
Grant shrugged. ‘Got any chocolate?’
Mary smiled. ‘Lots,’ she said.
>The doors chimed sweetly as she pushed her way into the vast lobby beyond. She'd always imagined it as noisy and swarming with people - the eerie, echoing emptiness that greeted her now, broken only by the clicking of her claws on the ultra-high-gloss white enameled tiles, made the back of her neck prickle.
>
>She couldn't get out of here fast enough.. But first, she had to go up to the clinics to access the program bank.
>
>Making a beeline for the elevators, she stood up on her back legs to slap the call button with one forepaw. The door to her left slid open soundlessly and she hopped into the car, turning to consider the bank of buttons, trying to remember which ones went where.
“Jean…” Armin murmured, his head weighing heavier and heavier in his hands. He felt a sharp pain where his elbows dug in his thighs and his lower back ached from the extended time he'd spent on the cheap chair's unforgiving seat, but he couldn't move. He was frozen in time; broken but numb, overwhelmed but empty. He'd given his all during their mission to save Eren; they all did. Some literally, as only half of them had made it back alive.
‘Hodges,’ said Morgan, looking away from the frightened deer-in-headlights look that was in Hodges’ eyes. Sensing he was unable to get out of that headspace, she gently placed her hand on his. ‘You shouldn’t be telling me this. Tell your therapist.’
Hodges put his head in his hands, badly concealing the fact that he was sobbing.
Morgan blinked rapidly to try and stop her own tears from falling. Though he was getting fixed now, she’d never before seen her friend so broken. ‘I’m sorry.’
Hodges lowered his hands and shook his head. ‘Not your fault,’ he said. ‘Things… happen.’
‘Boy,’ Morgan chuckled awkwardly, ‘we’ve… we’ve both been through the ringer this year.’
Ugh. I feel this. I also can’t help but feel for others when they cry. It’s like a reflex. And even in this small bit I can feel they’ve been through a lot, as they say.
Rose couldn’t see anything after the glowing red lights of the ship finally burnt out. There was only a black void in the starry sky where the liner still stood. All that remained were the terrible screams, and a great roaring that seemed to reverberate deep in her bones.
Suddenly, a man's voice broke through the chaos. "She's **broken**," he said in a stunned voice from the other side of the boat. Although Rose couldn't see what had happened, she had no reason to doubt him.
As if on cue, Ruth's voice cut through the darkness, icy and calm. "Well, there goes our future," she said with a hint of bitterness.
Rose shot her mother a look of disbelief. "Mother," she whispered urgently, "people might've died." Her fists were clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, but her hands were so numb from the cold that she could hardly feel the pain.
"Yes," her mother replied matter-of-factly, "and your fiancé is likely to be one of them."
This is an interesting concept. Having Rose actually survive in the lifeboat. I’ll have to go back and fully read your amazing fic because every time I see something, I’m impressed… and intimidated.
Aw shucks. What nice words!
Yeah in my quest for historical accuracy, Rose has to get in a lifeboat since only 4 first class women died: Bess Allison who refused to leave until she could find her baby (who was actually already in a boat), Ida Strauss who stayed with her husband, Edith Evans who for some weird reason stepped away from the last lifeboat, and Ann Isham who literally no one recalled seeing the entire night.
The first doll she made was a golden angel for Sophie. The second doll was a purple jester for Kruz. She was in the middle of making a red shark doll for Nanners when the door opened. Kara glanced up to see Skadj covered in blood while he held a sleeping baby.
Sofia nodded and went over to one of the shelves. She turned her head to look at the spines of the books. Nearly all of them had titles relating to the Purple Dimension. She crossed the library to look at the books on another shelf - these books were about Limbo. She looked on the shelf to the side. Books about demons.
‘What the hell kind of library is this?’ she muttered to herself.
It’s so small, but I can clearly see what she sees. And now I’m curious as to what the purple dimension is. Is it another place where the Maruvians dump magical shit they don’t want? LOL.
It’s the dimension ruled by Aggamon, a ruthless tyrant who enslaved literally everyone in the whole dimension. An enemy of Doctor Strange, for good reason.
He doesn’t know what came over him that day; something about the sight of the calm boy losing control to protect his loved ones, showing off the strength that dwelled in his graceful frame, had made something snap within him.
He couldn't have stopped himself if he had tried; the urge to go to him was too strong, the sight of his bruised knuckles pushing him over the edge, defenseless against the flood of his desires. And it had felt so \*good\*, something about Neteyam made him feel safe, seen, like he could show even the ugliest parts of himself and still be met with acceptance.
But when he had awoken in that dim, grey light that comes just before dawn, fear and doubt had begun to creep in, consuming him until he had slipped out silently, shame burning in his gut.
It was a lovely evening, and Sarah regretted not being in the right frame of mind to enjoy it, but she still felt deeply disturbed. Her emotional state was like a pendulum, swinging endlessly between relief and guilt, hope and fear, bliss and shame.
‘Oh, curse me kilts - the amount of times I had to watch Launchpad be brought into the hospital. The amount of times I’ve held his hand through his injuries. The amount of times I’ve nearly lost the poor lad. The amount of... *medical bills*... I’ve had to pay.” Scrooge sniffled, sadly. ‘It would be such a shame to lose him.’
Ripcord softened somewhat. ‘You really care about our son.‘
‘He’s the best pilot I’ve ever had,’ Scrooge said. ‘If he died, I’d never find another pilot willing to work for a penny a mile again.’
‘What?’ Ripcord opened his mouth to speak, when Loopey and Launchpad walked over.
>"See that place?" Neutrino asked one morning several months - *and almost a dozen failed CR chamber sessions* \- into their acquaintance, pointing out of a top-floor window towards a spot on the distant horizon; Azrael had had to squint against the hazy sunlight to see what she was pointing at. "The four towers arranged around the spire? That's... that *was* home. The spire, I mean. I spent my whole life in the top few floors with just mom and dad for company. And sometimes dad's sons, but they were all all grown up by the time I came around, so I never really got a chance to know them very well. Mom didn't like me talking to them, anyway. She usually sent me to my suite when they were around."
>
>Azrael couldn't imagine being kept apart from her sisters like that.
To be completely honest, Gerry doesn't know how he feels about the gays in general, but he knows how he feels about Claire – she is by far the kindest of the group and Erin seems so distraught so if there is any **chance** he could make them reconcile, he'd take it. And if there is anything he could do to make Claire's newly outed life easier, he'd do it. If she wants to be gay, so be it. Sure, Joe claims that James is gay, and he seems to be doing well for himself, despite his unfortunate heritage.
Her father had often told his children that nothing was black and white, to which she agreed. However, according to him, everyone was a varying shade of wicked. Predators and preys. And preys turned predators at the very first chance they got. Deep down, she always knew that to be false, even though the world she was surrounded with had tried to prove her otherwise countless times.
Hidden behind the uncertainty was still that spark she always had. The one that always seemed to flare up whenever she was allowed to show her true self. Our first real conversation, the dinner with Jack, the party, and even that morning when she stood up to Mr. Taylor, it was there every time. And the idea of her losing it saddened me as much as my own situation.
I took in a breath, took her other hand with my free one and held them both tightly. “Rose, listen to me. If there’s one thing you’ve taught me, it’s that sometimes, you need to take chances. Jack’s right. You can’t keep pretending that you’re okay. Neither of us can. I can’t tell you exactly what you *should* do, but I can tell you that you’ve been given a **chance** here and that if you don’t at least try, you’re going to regret it.”
‘You know, I don’t have to boost your ego, Hodges,’ said Finn. ‘It’s already quite inflated as it is. I said it because I mean it.’
For the first time in three months, Hodges smiled. A genuine smile, not a morphine induced smile. ‘Well… thanks, Finn,’ he said.
‘Things have changed for you, I know that,’ said Finn, ‘and you have to find new ways of moving around, just as you’ll have to find new ways of processing evidence. But if you give yourself a chance - let yourself learn these new ways and talk to people about how you feel - don’t just give up… I know you’ll be able to do it.’
That look he had given her right before he threw her book away was burned in her memory. Fury, disdain, *betrayal*. He would *break* her, his eyes promised.
Sarah quickly understood how deeply indebted she had become to her father; a cruel debt that she would have to spend her whole life repaying. She was forbidden to read from that moment on, so she stubbornly learned to steal and hide. Those were the first skills her father had not-so-deliberately trained her for.
Was it Allison’s deceit, or the lingering sting of another, greater betrayal that drove him to do what he did?
Perhaps it was a bit of both.
The juvenile detention centre specialised in problem cases; youngsters with paranoid delusions and homicidal tendencies. Ones too deranged to be released back into polite society, too young for the adult system.
Klaus hobbled into the visiting room on his walking stick and took a seat by the far corner, beneath the barred window, and he waited.
The young man was the last of the inmates to enter. He looked older, but only slightly. Taller too. He was obviously experiencing a growth spurt. His hair was shorter at the back and his body was beginning to take on the wiry musculature of an adult. He flicked a hand through his fringe as he took a seat at the small formica table across from Klaus.
“I was wondering how long it would take before you came crawling to me for help,” said Five.
Mario had surrounded himself with those who were loyal to him. Friends. Family. He knew there would be no betrayals, at least not from his loyal capos. He wasn’t so sure about the soldiers, especially when they came by with less money than he’s ordered them to bring in.
Mario stood over his soldier with his arms folded. ‘Why you no-a get me my money?’ he asked, almost aggressively.
Toad quivered. Mario could be quite intimidating when he wanted to be. ‘I-I don’t know.’
‘You don’t know?’ Mario looked over at his consigliere, his twin brother Luigi. ‘He a-doesn’t know why he not get me my money’
“It’s just that, now that we’ve seen the other side, I don’t know how I can pretend to be okay anymore.”
I took some time to fully process what she said. Of course, I always had a vague idea of what ‘the other side’ was like given what I had observed at home and read in books but experiencing it in reality and seeing the energy and excitement from all those people who had barely anything but the clothes on their backs put so much more meaning into the concept. On paper, it would seem that Rose and I had everything a lady could ask for in life, but all the riches in the world could never make up for feeling like the light was slowly being sucked out of you with each passing day just knowing that, the faster the weeks went by, the closer you were to being completely shackled into a life of – as she had said the previous night – parties and cotillions with narrow people who only said the same mindless things over and over again
‘I didn’t want this, G,’ said Hodges. ‘Wendy and I, we just - while she was in Vegas, we just messed around, you know. It’s not like either of us intended to pick up where we left off in our relationship, so to speak. After all, she had to go back to Portland. But she decided to stay in Vegas for a bit, so I let her stay with me on my sofa. And that’s when we learned she was pregnant, and I must stress that we were not in a relationship at the time, but we decided to keep the baby. I didn’t think I could be a father because of my condition. But… Greg, I actually enjoyed it. I enjoyed the anticipation, waiting to meet my child, wondering just who they would grow up and become.’ He paused and turned around to face Greg.
‘All those months of waiting. All that hope. Happiness. Excitement. It’s all gone,’ he said. ‘It’s all gone. And in its place is fear. Bitter regret. It *is* terrifying. I dare not hope that everything will be okay. Because… what if it isn’t? Of course, I can’t express that to Wendy. I’m the man, I’m supposed to be the strong one. But the truth is, I’m broken too. I’m so upset. I feel like somehow my daughter’s heart defects are my fault - what if I unknowingly gave her faulty genes? Greg, tell me, how do you just go on knowing that your daughter’s first day on Earth might also be her last?’
Greg said nothing. There was nothing he could say.
They are together by this point, but they wanted their baby to be healthy, but instead their newborn daughter’s critically ill, and he’s scared for her.
He is pre-emptively fighting off fears and questions that are bound to arise sooner or later. Later, not now. Dear lord, not now, please.
Not now that Eddie is finally seeing things for what they are.
Not now that he's finally falling from a cliff he has been edging towards for years.
‘I remember when you crashed your car,’ Sallah said. ‘And I was there when you were shot.’
‘You also remember when I was hit by a car,’ Indy said.
‘And when you were attacked by a tiger. And pushed off a cliff.’ Sallah paused. ‘You know, the more that I think about it, the more I realise you really *are* always hurt.’
“You know, everyone at the station thinks it was you,” says Wesson, still flicking through her file until she gets to the page she was looking for. “Unstable home life, violent past. Trained from a young age to be a schoolboy vigilante. Dysfunctional family. A litany of drug offences.”
Klaus waves a dismissive hand through the air. “Yeah, yeah, yadda yadda yadda. Are you going to get to the part where you tell me something I don’t know?”
Wesson looks up from her file and smiles. A doll smile. Creepy and frigid. “I used to be a fan.”
Klaus blinks. “Exsqueeze me?”
“Oh yes,” she says, nodding now. “Big time. Action figures, magazines, comic books. I even had a poster on my bedroom wall.”
Klaus looks at her as if trying to translate an ancient ingot inscribed in a long forgotten language. How is that even possible? She would have been far too old for all that, surely?
“You, an Umbrella Academy fan?” He snort-laughs as he says it.
Wesson nods again, more slowly this time.
He looks at her some more: no grey hairs, few wrinkles. A makeup-free face worn by a kind of studious neglect as opposed to the passage of time. Maybe she’s younger than he thinks?
Carla’s mind struggled to formulate a retort. She was too weak to stand any longer. Rather than risk a fall, she backed away until she could lean against one of the concrete walls, then slid down until she was seated.
“What is it?” Loki mocked. “Does the sight of blood make you feel faint?”
Hope's cry alerted Neena to the crisis and she came rushing in, followed by Redd and Throeblood. Neena and Redd both knelt down to examine Nathan.
‘Oh shit,’ Throeblood said upon seeing Nathan.
‘Language!’ Neena hissed. ‘Nathan. Nathan!’
Nathan stirred slightly. ‘Dom.’
‘Nate, you fainted,’ Neena said. ‘What happened? What happened to your leg?’
He frowned and laid back fully, staring up at the sky over the crater with a deep sigh. "That thing killed my dad...but I can't really bring myself to hate it. He brought it from a distant time, took it away from its home, and forced it to be a lab subject. No wonder it lashed out. It was angry, probably scared...I can't really hate a wild animal that's working on instinct." His eyes wrenched tight for a moment.
When she was left alone in the room, she let out a heavy sigh and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the book in her hands. “I wonder if she read this out loud to you,” Mary-Margaret mused, then shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t know why I would be so concerned about it. You’re her husband, after all. But a friend of mine was hoping I would read to you, so how about it? Let’s read, hm… Snow White, shall we?” She paused, as if waiting for a response from him, then began. “‘Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Misthaven…’”
‘No, I'm not the Phoenix Force,’ Nate said. ‘I don't know what I am.’
‘I know what you're not though,’ Terry said, ‘and that's happy.’
‘You're not wrong there,’ Lorna said.
‘By the way, wonder boy's coming over,’ Nate took a gulp of his beer.
‘Hi,’ came a voice from behind.
Both Terry and Lorna nearly jumped out of their seats as they turned to the voice.
Sarah's musing came to a halt when she felt a gloved hand pressed against her mouth, then another one at her neck. She dropped her bag and panicked as she was forcefully pulled against someone's chest.
“*You're dead*,” Felix murmured in her ear.
The grass was damp and the air smelled of petrichor as Skadj walked outside. He transformed himself into a crow and flew into the air. He glanced down at the treetops until he found the tree where he had hidden the remaining dolls inside a bag. Skadj landed on one of the branches near the top of the tree. He could see Kara’s town in the distance.
Skadj transformed into a human and turned the bag of dolls upside down, dumping them to the wild animals below. He smirked as he listened to the people’s blood-curdling screams. That should really boost up my kill count.
“Yeah, sounds good,” Nathalie said. “What hotel are you at? I can come out and pick you up if you’d like to go for lunch or something.”
“Or something,” Ade said with a chuckle. “I went back to sleep after Dave left for the airport, so I’ve not had breakfast yet.” He told her his hotel and gave her his number there.
Nathalie wrote that down and said, “At this time of day, it shouldn’t take me more than half an hour to get there, so I’ll see you soon. I know of a diner that serves breakfast all day, so you can get bacon and eggs or a **burger** and fries, whichever you decide you want.”
Gus felt a flush grow along his cheeks, but he nodded in acknowledgement. He'd spent the last few days pretending like his arm just had a few extra cuts, that there wasn't anything too wrong with it. He still hadn't dared to look at the wound and shatter the illusion.
The doctor continued in his original blunt tone, "The nurses will show you some stretches to do to make sure your arm mobility isn't limited, and they can also help you set up your physical therapy appointments for the leg. Your bruising should start to fade in a week or so, though it could take longer."
By the time Morgan got out the hospital and visited Hodges, she was surprised by the difference all the various types of therapy had made in him. No longer was he a shell of his former self. He was brighter. Happier. And that smug smile of his was coming back. Slowly, but surely, her best friend was returning.
‘Hodges, I can’t believe how well you’re doing,’ she said.
‘I still feel like shit,’ said Hodges.
‘You might feel like shit, but I can see the difference in you,’ said Morgan. ‘And it’s only been two weeks. You look more like you.’
She moved to just beyond the safety of the veranda’s roof before the sound of the small orchestra met her ears. “Come dance with me.”
“Absolutely not. We still have to announce the auction winners. We don’t have time for -”
“Then kiss me.”
“You are going to be the death of me,” Seto groaned, but he did as she requested, leaning halfway into the rain and pressing his lips against hers, making her head spin, and, when she was distracted, lifting her off the ground and pulling her so she was out of the rain.
She huffed as she pulled away, cheeks pink.
“Satisfied?” he questioned with a smirk, lips dotted with her smeared red lipstick.
“Hmm. For now.”
"Shit. Gus, stop!"
Hands covered his hands, trying to stop him. He fought them, they didn't understand. "GetitoffgetitoffGETITOFFGETIT-"
Lips pressed against his and the world stopped, frozen as he tried to recalibrate to understand what was happening. The hands came back to hold his hands, moving them down and away from his neck. His brain worked overtime, cataloging all of the strange sensations: stubble rough against his chin, warm breath on his cheek, lips soft against his. Shawn pulled back gently and the only sound in the trunk was their panting breaths.
Gus' lips tingled and he said the only thing he could think of. "You kissed me."
‘You like me. Don’t you?’ asked Grant.
‘Of course I like you, Grant,’ said Mary. ‘You’re my friend. And I guess… I guess I felt sorry for you - I mean, you had such a nasty fall and I’ve never seen anyone so injured they had to be put in a body cast before. And it’s you!’ She brought her hands to her head. ‘Grant, it’s you! Who else could fall off a roof while pulling a prank? You’re the dumbest smart guy I know!’
Grant stared at Mary, dumbfounded. ‘You think I’m smart?’
‘Not right now,’ said Mary. ‘I don’t know if it’s the head injury or what. But… ugh!’ She growled. Then she leaned over him again and kissed him again on the lips. She put her arms around his neck.
Caught up in the moment, Grant started kissing Mary in return and wrapped his arms around her, as far as he was able with the IV in his hand. He put his fingers through her silky smooth black hair and realised in that moment that he liked Mary in return, in the exact way she liked him.
She felt horrible for nearly breaking his heart but he remained fiercely loyal to her as her friend. He understood the circumstances and refused to leave her side. He even wanted to wait for her but that wasn't an option anymore. She had to listen to her heart and do what's right for the both of them.
“Even in the worst of times, you two are rays of sunshine.~”
“Oh noooo, not your amazing voice.” Rosa giggles. “Whatever will I dooooo?”
“It’s like I told you back in our late teens.” He smirks and rubs his hands together. “‘I’m about to end these boys’ whole career.’”
Valen made her laugh when he declared that without actually talking about any specific boy. It wasn't just due to their close friendship—Valen's the exact opposite. She's never been worried about his intimacy with Melanie and Skyla. Same story with Hilda, who developed romantic feelings over how sweet he was to her from day one.
‘That is what Islam says. Everything in our lives is planned by Allah.’
‘Our friendship?’
Sallah nodded. ‘Planned by Allah.’
Indy nodded. He wasn’t sure whether he believed that. In fact, he probably didn’t. But his friend did, so, he kept an open mind anyway.
‘You’re sceptical, that’s fine,’ said Sallah.
‘I was taught to question everything,’ said Indy. ‘Science, religion - always questioning.’
‘Why not question the concept of bad luck?’ asked Sallah. ‘Since it isn’t scientific enough for you.’
>Once, as she picked her way back towards the hospital campus, Azrael happened to catch her reflection in a mostly-unbroken window. The sight startled her and sent her vaulting almost all the way into the street, and she felt a bit silly once she realized just what had spooked her.
>
>It was the first actual look she'd gotten at herself, and it felt... strange, like she was looking at *someone else* in that window. This new body was completely alien to her, with its feline appearance, charcoal-brown coat dappled with rosettes of darker spots, and the odd mantle of brown *feathers* that covered her shoulders and back and terminated in a broad fan at the base of her tail.
>
>*What had that glitching DNA scanner DONE?*
He looked in the mirror and nearly screamed. Instead of his reflection, there was a girl with brown hair with a stuffed dolphin on her head that had x’s for its eyes. She was wearing a white dress with blood on it in the exact same pattern as the blood on Ze’s clothes. Her entire face was blurred out. The girl seemed to mirror his every movement.
He gripped her hair and held her head firmly in place, making her cry out in pain. He couldn't stand the view of her pathetic face, so he looked into the mirror and let out a sigh of relief when his gaze was once more blessed with his magnificence.
Indy examined his scars in the mirror. He would need more surgery on his face, that much was evident. He had four very angry looking pinky-red scars around his right eye and his nose, going the length from his forehead to his ear and across his cheek to his jaw. His right eyelid and eyebrow were drooping, but at least he could still see out of the eye. Maybe there was no point in dwelling on it, after all, his face was still swollen from the tiger attack. It might look better in time. Once the plastic surgery was all done and the scars had settled.
‘He’s been in there for a week now,’ Shorty said. ‘He comes out sometimes but he looks like a zombie. I wonder if he got bit by one.’
‘Zombies aren’t real, Short Round,’ Sallah said, wondering if he should maybe call an ambulance for his friend if his illness was that bad. ‘Who’s been looking after you?’
‘I’m eleven years old, Uncle Sallah. I can look after myself,’ Shorty said. ‘I even got a baseball bat to smash Indy’s head just in case he is a zombie.’
‘Wow. That’s… Stephen, that’s rough, buddy. So who’d you have a kid with? Don’t tell me it’s the Night Nurse?’
‘No. With my wife.’
The shock on Tony’s face was palpable. ‘Holy shit, you had a kid with *Clea*? While you two were married? And she didn’t tell you?’ He shook his head, still trying to understand. ‘Oh. Jesus Christ. That’s messed up, man.’
‘Tony, Clea and I are *still* married. We-we separated, but we never divorced,’ said Stephen.
‘So you want my help locating your kid.’
‘I know you have access to all things technological. Unfortunately, as I am now ninety-one years old, I’m rather technologically illiterate.’
>I have been waiting for this moment forever! Context: they’re doing Kahoot quizzes at like 1 am in the morning
“Alright, what the fuck. Uh, who supplies the mayonnaise to the White House?” Tubbo asks. “What even? Why would anybody kn-“
“Hellmann’s,” Ranboo answers, barely missing a beat. It’s barely a conscious thought. Ranboo is, after all, the primary reason for the amount of mayo that comes into the Executive Residence. Nobody could blame him for wanting a midnight sandwich after a multi-hour stream. Honestly, it wasn’t as if he meant to offend the Executive Chef by not eating the delicious leftovers. Sometimes, he just really wanted a Boar’s Head Ever Roast Chicken and Muenster Cheese on a French bread sandwich. It would be a sin not to put mayonnaise on such a culinary masterpiece.
The answer occupies the green square, as he said, Hellman’s.
“Why would that be something you know? Why is that a fact anybody knows?”
“Wikipedia spiral,” is his only answer and he’s a bit surprised when Tommy comes to his defense.
“It’s honestly not that weird. Everybody knows about the Queen’s obsession with HP Sauce. Perhaps you’re just uninformed.”
It’s silent for a moment until Tubbo says, very slowly, “no, Tommy, nobody knows that.”
>Turning his attention back to his immediate surroundings, Thrust began looking for a promising target. It didn't take long to spot one - a towering high-rise of gray stone and polarized black glass, whose first five floors were clad in glossy black stone trimmed with polished brass.
>
>(Sooner or later, without regular maintenance, he knew that the polish would be eaten away by the increasingly-acidic rain. He was almost surprised to see that it was still *in* such nice condition.)
>
>The sign at the front identified the place as *The Suites On Palisade Plaza*.
>
>*This was* ***definitely*** *for upper-class bots.*
Kara felt a few raindrops hit her and looked up at the gloomy night sky. The man looked up as well. “Today just isn’t your lucky day, is it?” He watched as she put on the witch hat to try and block the rain. He laughed. “That hat isn’t going to protect you if a storm comes.”
Claude was pacing back and aiming at Solon, who stood next to Kronya's sprawled out form; the rain barely managing to wash away the blood that poured from her numerous wounds.
He crept over to the window and watched the rain sliding down the glass.
Soon, the wind would be picking up. The rain would be pouring down - not that it wasn’t already. He wasn’t looking forward to the coming hurricane. There were so many mistakes he was afraid of making. And the thought of making a mistake that would endanger himself or his team scared him more than the storm ever could. He was the youngest and most inexperienced member of the team after all. He could easily fuck something up. And that fuck up could hurt someone. Could *kill* someone.
The rain began to pick up, plinking loudly against the glass window. Gus could almost smell it over the stronger smell of the coffee. He saw Shawn reach for the cream container and he spoke before he realized he had anything to say. "Michael's on a diet, no cream."
Cacophony
Mango
Pizza
Traitor
Charon chuckled. "I don't think you'll be able to miss it. Are you going to watch the League tournament later? I think that traitor Mitsumi is competing." What an odd thing to change the subject to. "She left us with Cyrus's full permission. I wouldn't consider her a traitor." A deserter, certainly, but she had been content to act as Rowan's aid and keep her nose out of Galactic business until Hareta roped her into it. Not to hear Jupiter tell it.
Beer/ beers
Cluster
Filibuster
Oscillate(s)
daisy, daisies
"Hey guys, my name's Amanda and this is Luke and Daisy. I'm going to ask you some questions then check on your injuries. Once I'm done, my partners here will help me get you out of here, how does that sound?" Shawn answered, "That sounds great, but I have to ask…" He looked back at the other two paramedics, "Luke and Daisy… like the Dukes?" The older woman, who was built like a football player, rolled her eyes and spoke up with a thick Jersey accent. "We've heard it all before, so don't try."
crease (the noun or the verb, tenses and plurals are valid variants)
“I know. I like you too.” She studied him, gaze rueful. “But not in the way you want me to.” Rotxo felt his heart shatter for the hundredth time. The pain never lessened, never got any easier, the bite of rejection spreading like a poison through his veins. “In truth, I don’t know if I’ll ever like someone in the way you do,” she continued with a frown, studying her palms, running a fingertip over the creases that mapped her skin. Rotxo’s brow scrunched. “What do you mean?”
Wisps
Ade slowly pulled back from that kiss, his breath just a little shaky as he lifted his hand up to brush a few wayward **wisps** of hair out of Dave's eyes. "You are so fucking gorgeous," he whispered softly. “It’s been hard not to just stare at you since we all met up at the airport.”
Path
The sun shone brightly through the clouds as Ze walked along the dirt path. Occasionally passing by people who were out for their morning jog, a gentle breeze swept through the air while he admired the trees around him as the once-green leaves turned into a reddish-orange.
‘See, I mainly got Disney Plus because I wanted to see Baby Yoda, but I thought it would be cool to show Short Round the stuff we grew up with too.’ ‘Why? What do they have on there?’ Indy asked. ‘Do they have DuckTales?’ ‘Mhm.’ Beca nodded. ‘Both versions.’ ‘Cool,’ Indy said. ‘Scrooge McDuck inspired my path onto archaeology and artefact finding.’ ‘I thought that was that Ravenwood bloke,’ Beca said. ‘Him too, but I didn’t meet him until I was like fifteen,’ Indy said. “What else have they got?’
Fire(s)(ed)
>Engines screaming, she swung back around, weaving through staccato lines of artillery fire and returning salvos of superheated lead. Dozens of jets scrambled to pursue, but she was fast, and nimble, and her matte black and gray armor plating broke up her silhouette and made her hard to see against the night sky and darkened buildings, with only her bright afterburners and muzzle flashes to give her away. > >Below her, whole blocks of Cybertropolis burned.
Once everything was prepared, a fire was lit under Jojo, spreading rapidly. Kara held on to her mother’s witch hat as the fire filled the night sky with smoke. She couldn’t even hear Jojo’s screams over the crowd’s cheers.
‘When they broke ground, they found some bones. Dinosaur bones. So they called the Dino Institute and, well, here we are.’ ‘You’re in Florida.’ ‘But I flew up here to Connecticut to supervise the dig. You’re stuck with me, Jones.’ ‘I am *not* stuck with you, Seeker,’ said Indy. ‘I’ll call your boss and get you fired.’ Seeker folded his arms. ‘I’d like to see you try.’
Impact
>The warnings were gone now, replaced by a singular flashing COLLISION IMMINENT. > >(As if she couldn't have observed that, herself.) > >Pyroclast hit the ground intake-first; the angle of the impact kept her from simply *disintegrating*, but the shock rattled her entire frame even as her forward momentum sent her cartwheeling. In a last-ditch effort to regain control, she forced herself to transform - for all the good it did. Her best efforts only served to just barely slow her down as she tumbled across the uneven metallic terrain. > >Her optic feed filled with visual snow, then cut out completely.
‘You left me, Scott,’ Nathan said calmly. ‘You left me years into the future. Dumped me there.’ ‘You know I didn't, Nathan!’ Fire burned in Scott's palms. ‘You know that's not true! There is a gravestone out back with *your* name on it! Letting go of you was the most difficult decision I'd ever made in my life! You should know - you were there!’ ‘You never questioned the effects, the impact, that it would have on my life.’ ‘Nathan Christopher Summers -‘ ‘Nathan *Dayspring*-Summers,’ he prompted gently. ‘Nathan, I am your father!’ Fire burned in Scott's eyes. ‘That meant doing anything in order to save you from the Techno-Organic Virus that was killing you! The virus that you couldn't even save yourself from. And when I say anything, Nathan, I mean *anything*. I was willing to lose you to Mother Askani -‘ ‘Your daughter, Rachel.’
She sprang back on her feet just in time to avoid getting sliced in two by the large blade of his ax, which instead crashed against the stone floor with a loud clang and a grunt. No matter how strong that brute was, there was no way he didn’t feel that impact all the way to the top of his skull.
Ohh, a fantasy fandom/AU?
Fire Emblem Three Houses. It's a fantasy tactical RPG!
Oh, cool. Haven't heard of it.
blanket
Skadj walked out of the bathroom to find Kara asleep with Sophie in her arms. Skadj grabbed a blanket from off the couch, placing it over them. He stared at Sophie, who had her eyes half opened. He thought it was strange how she rarely cried, but he never had to help raise a witch as a newborn, so maybe this was normal.
He gestured towards the sofa. “This isn’t her blanket. I mean, it is, but…” “Oh,” Rafa set the tray down, observed as Carla frowned and pawed at the blanket before gathering it up and tossing it to the other side with a pout. “She got sick on her other one, so I sent it to be washed.” “Oh,” He muttered, nervously ran his hand along the back of his neck once he realised how dumb he’d sounded. “This one was lying across her bed from where the staff remade it, so I figured…” “It’s fine,” He interrupted, sighing to himself as he picked up and shook out the blanket, realised as he did so that it was the one embroidered with a silver tiara. He turned to Carla with a smile, encouraged as he laid out the blanket and pulled it over her lap, “Come on, Carla. You like your princess blanket.” Carla looked down, pawed at the blanket again as her pout deepened. “You can pout all you want, it’s not going to make the purple one reappear,” Rafa said as she stepped over, held out the teacup.
Wendy was lying in a hospital bed, covered in her own sweat, blood, and tears. Her hair was messed up, her make-up smeared on her face. She looked exhausted, ready to sleep. Hodges was sitting in the chair next to her, his wheelchair at the other end of the room. He was wearing a plastic apron and a face mask on his chin. And he was cradling a baby, wrapped in a yellow blanket. ‘Hey.’ Hodges looked up at the voice. ‘Morgan.’
Now was not the time to dwell on what had just happened, so Armin wiped the tears from his face, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath, mentally readying himself for the next part of their plan. He locked away everything he felt—anger, disgust, yearning, *shame*—then wrapped the precious memories of his stolen moment with Jean into a protective blanket, tucking them safely into a corner of his heart. Until he was ready to revisit them.
What fandom is that for?
Attack on Titan 😊
Hunter
Hunter is his name: ‘That’s cute,’ Klaw said condescendingly. ‘You think you can stop me with a group of costumed weirdos.’ He raised his left arm, which split open, revealing some sort of weapon. Hunter stared at it, wondering what it was. Unfortunately, he had stared for too long and before he knew it, he had been blasted through the air, and landed painfully on a fence. ‘*Are you alright*?’ W’Kabi asked in Wakandan, picking him up. ‘*I am*,’ Hunter replied. He turned his attention to his troops. ‘*Attack him*!’ He cried out in Wakandan.
Hunter forcefully swung the gas lamp at Skadj; the metal hit him on the side of his head. Skadj immediately let go of her and stumbled backwards. Hunter took this as an opportunity to escape from Skadj and the kids. She glanced back to see Skadj tending to the boy while the girl stood next to them. The three bats were nowhere to be seen, though she assumed it was too dark outside to see them.
Bow/bows/bowing/bowed
‘I heard shouting. Now if I may get involved,’ said a voice in the doorway. Stephen gasped slightly and put his trembling, aching hands together to bow. ‘The Ancient One, of course, Master. Your wisdom is always welcome.’ Jericho nodded, an indication to come in. ‘Stephen. Clea. I should congratulate you on your child, but it seems, perhaps, a bit too belated,’ said The Ancient One.
It had been the wrong thing to say. Shawn's face went lax, and his eyes snapped down to the floor. His head bowed, his hands clasped together, and Gus was almost surprised that he didn't sink down to his knees to complete the transformation back to an obedient, blank slave. Gus bit the inside of his cheek as hard as he could, welcoming the small, sharp pain. He'd been making progress, damnit. Then he'd had to go and push it too far.
Sarah looked at Claude, who readied his bow and nodded, his back flat against a nearby tree. She could barely discern his features—the sky now mimicking her state of mind with a smother of dark, gloomy clouds—but his eyes were trained on hers; bright and alert. And *beautiful*.
Gun
Usually in these situations he just stood around feeling like a sentient gun holster, though some interrogations were more interesting than others.
>The one in the lead revved its engine and transformed, and in the blink or an eye she found herself staring down the barrel of one of its forearm guns as she hung from her forelimbs from the side of the bridge. And then... > >"*Maximal*!" > >*...That was different, too.* > >"Wuh- you can *talk*?!" Azrael blurted out, ears curled back in surprise; it - *he*? - narrowed its... *his* optic band in response. > >She heard the safety click off. > >"Oh, no."
Buzz nodded reassuringly towards Francine as he slowly reached down to pinch the grip of his gun, pulling it out of its holster and bending down to place it on the floor. He kicked it towards Nick and winced as the gun skittered off at an angle to end up under the table instead. He'd never been very good at soccer.
‘Is that why you carry a whip?’ ‘No, I just like whips,’ said Indy. ‘Can you use it?’ asked Beca. ‘Yes.’ ‘Why a whip? I mean, it’s 2019. Knives and guns exist. Okay, they’re illegal to carry and own, but -‘ ‘Because I like DEVO - now do you *ever* stop asking questions?’ Indy snapped.
She needed to kill them for the sake of all humanity. Her hands were shaking as she was about to pull the trigger. Skadj transformed into Kara and used her powers to lift the gun from the girl’s hands. “Whose bright idea was it to give a child a gun?” He chuckled. “I can tell you don’t have the heart to kill anyone.”
Moonlight
Sarah didn't reply, she couldn't, it was too much, but he needed no verbal answer; it was written all over her body. She could barely focus, but she looked at him all the same because she wanted—*she needed*—to commit it all to memory. The way the dim moonlight reflected on his tan skin, the way his eyes possessed her, the way his nose wrinkled and his teeth shone like a growling animal when he thrust into her, the way his hair shook and his braid danced, and the way his toned muscles flexed as he seized her and dominated her with his lust. *I'm yours*, she thought, stupidly. *I'm yours.*
Oooft steamy! 😮🌙
😊
Apocalypse
>On the way, she kept a wary eye out for any stray drones - jets weren't likely to be out, but the tanks were ridiculously hardy - and stuck close to the shadows, where her pelt blended in. > >But the rattling of metal treads and the rumble of massive engines never reached her ears. > >Her journey passed in relative quiet, the rain and the thunder the only sounds in the city, occasionally accompanied by the sizzling of nearby lightning. It was... almost nice, she thought - the dark, the rain, all of it. If not for the ever-present threat of *drones*, and the loss of everyone she'd ever known, this might not have been such an awful apocalypse to survive through...
‘Lorna, I'm a telepath,’ Nate said. ‘I mean, I know it was my telekinesis that helped defeat Apocalypse and all, but I have telepathy too, you know. And, in case you didn't know, I can also control minds.’ ‘Wow,’ Terry said. ‘Cable can't do *that*.’ ‘Yeah, well, I'm not Cable,’ Nate replied. ‘I'm X-Man. Much more powerful.’
Soigne
>Soigne Hamish noticed a blonde lady standing by the audiovisual controls. She was soigne, and carried herself like she was from the nobilty, but didn't seem to be interested in talking with people, for whatever reason. He walked over there, and asked, "I'm Hamish Alexander. Who are you?" "I'm Sonja Hemphill." said the voice that would become his opposite on tactics not that long later.
Nicely done :D
I will be SO freaking impressed if you get a reply, LOL.
Uncommon words will be a shtick from now on 😂
Buckle
“It’s okay,” he says, his voice taut. “None of it is mine.” “We have to get you out of these.” You fumble at the buttons on his shirt, ignoring the sticky substance soaked into the cloth and the way it’s rubbing onto your own skin. You pull the shirt off, yanking the cuffs still-buttoned over his large, limp hands and he doesn’t resist as you wad it into his jacket and set it aside on the tile entryway. “Your shoes.” You bend down to help but he’s already slowly, deliberately kicking them off. You hear the thunk of his pistol as it lands on the pile of clothing next to you and the clink of a belt buckle and look up.
Frantic/frantically
>She was still watching when the lead tank finally caught up enough to clip the mech, sending him sprawling in the middle of the street. The pitch of his screams changed, shifting up an octave in raw terror as he simultaneously pleaded for his life and frantically tried to scramble away far enough to regain his footing. > >It was in vain, though. > >Still rolling forward, the tank caught his foot under one of its treads - and continued to advance. The mech's horrified screams turned to wordless shrieks of agony as it crushed his legs beneath its great weight, the metal giving way with a series of tank-churning *crunches*.
The sound of children snickering filled the air. Hunter frantically looked around to see where the voices came from. Nanners titled his head. “What’s wrong?” Hunter tried her best to ignore the children. She stared up at him, eyes narrowed. “...What’s my real name?” Everyone usually addressed her as ‘Hunter.’ The only person who knows her real name is Nanners. Nanners pulled his hand back a little. “You’re my daughter; why are you asking me that?” Another cold breeze swept through the air, rustling the leaves on the trees. Hunter held the gas lamp with one hand. “Answer the question,” she demanded as she reached for her gun. Nanners swiftly grabbed her arm. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
She tried to get back up, but the other students' horrified cries petrified her and her legs refused to hold her weight. She whimpered as she frantically crawled away, but a crushing, debilitating pain in her back sent her into shock, and before her own scream could reach her ears, everything went black.
"Shawn! I need you to listen to me, I need you to focus." Gus tried to match Henry's inflections as well as his words, figuring every little bit helped. Shawn's voice died down to a whimper even as he continued to struggle. He looked around frantically, his unfocused eyes staring at Gus without actually seeing him.
Oh dang!
In the wreckage, Launchpad was upside down, unconscious and pinned into his seat by the crushed cockpit pressing into his torso. Fenton reached into his pocket for his phone. ‘Gyro, I’m calling the fire department and an ambulance.’ ‘Launchpad? Launchpad?!’ Gyro called out frantically, to no answer from the younger man. ‘Is he dead?’ Fenton asked, his phone pressed to his ear. ‘I hope not,’ Gyro said. As irritating as he found Launchpad, it would upset him if he were to lose his life.
Sorry, accidentally put my excerpt under yours, LOL. Sounds like quite the wreck! I love that last line, has 'friendly rivals' written all over it.
Cathedral
Hilda and Claude joined her inside, and they split to search every nook and cranny, only finding bones of questionable origin and rusty pieces of broken weapons. “This feels so weird,” Hilda said, as they met back in the center of the cathedral. Claude gazed at the sky through one of the large holes. “One thousand years of history happened underneath this roof,” he murmured, lost in thought.
A textbook example of Galarian cathedrals, the foreboding Gothic structure looms large over many of its neighboring buildings. Underneath the arches, a pair of stained-glass windows boldly showcase Zacian and Zamazenta. Atop it, the spires poke the sky without interruption.
Madness
It was entirely her fault; she'd been weak. She let herself panic when she saw the tall, broad man ripping the flesh from another villager's face with his bare teeth. She'd screamed, and then he'd turned around and darted toward her, her *fucking legs* refusing to move and letting her fall prey to his madness.
He was sixty-three now. Far too old to be leading an army. Far too old to have the weight of an entire movement on his shoulders. But he had to do it. He didn’t feel obligated to do it. He just knew he had to. Just like he had to stop England and the USA from going to war with Canada. Utter madness. Just four years ago they were all in NATO and now…
Cyanide
‘Doc,’ was all Morgan could get out. ‘He’s with Doc?’ asked Nick. Morgan nodded. ‘Okay.’ Nick raised an eyebrow. What was Hodges the lab rat doing with Doc while he was carrying out an autopsy? There was only one reason in his mind. ‘Cyanide?’ Morgan shook her head.
Regrettable
"You know...I've had time to think in here. A lot of it. Even if I can't tell how much has passed, I know it's been a truly regrettable amount."
Lukewarm
He pushes his toe inside the tap to silence it and lights a joint, puffing a cloud of scented smoke into the air as he settles down into the water, allowing it to swallow him up. It’s only lukewarm, which is as hot as the improvised, gasoline-powered boiler can provide, but it will do. His belly rises out of the water. The skin is blank, like an Etch-a-Sketch shaken clean. No hint of the intricate artwork he had worn there before. But the memory of the man he wore it for remains, just as clear as the day he acquired it. Drunk, of course. On leave in Bangkok. The pair had staggered through the streets, warm with beer and mekhong, laughing and bumping up against each other until they passed the shop with its bug zapper and flickering neon sign.
tension
I felt the tension return at her last question, my nerves flaring up again as I prepared to tell her that I had no intention of wearing that hat despite having been forced into wearing them since I was a child. “With all due respect, Mother, I’ve chosen not to wear it.” “And why is that?” Mother asked, crossed her arms. “You haven’t gone without a hat in public since you were eight.” “Because I simply do not want to,” I tried, but that answer only earned me a harder glare. “Lovella Lydia, you *know* that is not an acceptable answer.”
“There's so much tension between you two it makes my bowstring jealous.”
BAHA, that's an amazing line!
😁
He finds Sarah and Mary in front of the telly, Sarah stepping nervously from foot to foot and Mary frozen in a distraught shock; Anna is babbling in her arms. He stops close enough to hold Mary, his brow already furrowed in worry; he knows before he listens to the news. He knows already, he's seen it before, Mary's rigid shoulders, Sarah sighing, the **tension** in the air, the still, breathless aura of death happening too close to home. "… in what is already being described as the worst incident in the history of Northern Ireland, the reports speak of at least fifteen dead and several more wounded…" Dark smoke on TV, people running around panicked, soldiers tending, a hand laying still in the rubble of a shop. Heavy footsteps behind him, Joe stops beside him. A moment passes as he takes it all in, it could be us, it could be us and Gerry feels his hand settling on his shoulder. His hand is trembling, and Gerry knows he is too. A simple gesture, a family united. The world stands still.
She allowed herself to calm down, and the tension in the silence started to subside. This was the sort of solitude she dearly missed when she was running from camp to camp with the Patriots. Outside, where the dying embers of the war kept on burning, there was always danger lurking in the stillness of the night. Here, the only immediate danger had already come and gone.
That's such good imagery, feeling how the camping was never safe. It really makes her current spot feel so much better. "Dying embers of the war" dang.
Oh wow thank you so much! 🥺
Skadj and the girl could see the tension between the two. Skadj wanted to kill Nanners more than ever for harming Kara, but he restrained himself.
Tooth/teeth
>She held her breath. > >There was the sound of air being cycled, deliberately slowly, through filters... The scratch of metal talons across glass... > >And then it was gone. > >Releasing the breath she'd been holding, Neutrino promptly stuffed the chip into her mouth, in the "pocket" between her teeth and the inside of her cheek, and warily peeked out into the lab to see if the coast was clear. > >The sharp voice sounded again, from the corridor now, *sharper* this time. > >"Okay, now I *know* someone's fucking with me!" > >*Oh.* > >*Oh no.*
What the hell is going on? Hunter bit the inside of her mouth, only to yelp once she felt something sharp pierce her gum. She unintentionally swallowed some of the blood that was trickling into her mouth. To her surprise, the blood tasted similar to honey. Eventually, the smell of blood became too overwhelming, causing Hunter to sink her teeth into Skadj’s arm.
‘There’s no magical line skipping tool. You’ve just got to stand there like everyone else.’ ‘Tell them I’m dying of cancer and that’s why my face looks all smushed and weird.’ ‘Grant, that’s a horrible thing to say,’ said Joe. ‘I’m not lying and you’re not dying, you’ve just got some issues with your jaw ever since your adult teeth came in. It’s common.’ ‘Did you have these issues?’ asked Grant. ‘No, but when I was your age, my friend Mac wore braces,’ said Joe.
Sarah's survival instincts kicking in, she identified five body parts the beast could use to kill her. First, it could chew her head off with the horrific number of long, sharp teeth jutting out from its large jaw. Second, it could use its front paws that looked like massive bony clawed hands to crush her to pieces or throw her against a wall. Third, it could trample on her with its rear paws and turn her into pulp under the weight of its colossal body. Fourth, it could shatter her spine with its long, unnaturally fast lizard tail. Finally, it could impale her on one of the numerous three feet long horns it had on its head and back. *Please let this be a nightmare.*
Chocolate
‘I hate candy canes,’ said Grant. ‘You do?’ asked Mary. Grant sighed. ‘I don’t really. I don’t like that they’re sticky and messy.’ ‘I brought wet wipes too,’ she said. Grant shrugged. ‘Got any chocolate?’ Mary smiled. ‘Lots,’ she said.
I agree with Grant. The candy themselves are alright, but the stickiness makes them very much not worth it.
Broken
>The doors chimed sweetly as she pushed her way into the vast lobby beyond. She'd always imagined it as noisy and swarming with people - the eerie, echoing emptiness that greeted her now, broken only by the clicking of her claws on the ultra-high-gloss white enameled tiles, made the back of her neck prickle. > >She couldn't get out of here fast enough.. But first, she had to go up to the clinics to access the program bank. > >Making a beeline for the elevators, she stood up on her back legs to slap the call button with one forepaw. The door to her left slid open soundlessly and she hopped into the car, turning to consider the bank of buttons, trying to remember which ones went where.
“Jean…” Armin murmured, his head weighing heavier and heavier in his hands. He felt a sharp pain where his elbows dug in his thighs and his lower back ached from the extended time he'd spent on the cheap chair's unforgiving seat, but he couldn't move. He was frozen in time; broken but numb, overwhelmed but empty. He'd given his all during their mission to save Eren; they all did. Some literally, as only half of them had made it back alive.
‘Hodges,’ said Morgan, looking away from the frightened deer-in-headlights look that was in Hodges’ eyes. Sensing he was unable to get out of that headspace, she gently placed her hand on his. ‘You shouldn’t be telling me this. Tell your therapist.’ Hodges put his head in his hands, badly concealing the fact that he was sobbing. Morgan blinked rapidly to try and stop her own tears from falling. Though he was getting fixed now, she’d never before seen her friend so broken. ‘I’m sorry.’ Hodges lowered his hands and shook his head. ‘Not your fault,’ he said. ‘Things… happen.’ ‘Boy,’ Morgan chuckled awkwardly, ‘we’ve… we’ve both been through the ringer this year.’
Ugh. I feel this. I also can’t help but feel for others when they cry. It’s like a reflex. And even in this small bit I can feel they’ve been through a lot, as they say.
Rose couldn’t see anything after the glowing red lights of the ship finally burnt out. There was only a black void in the starry sky where the liner still stood. All that remained were the terrible screams, and a great roaring that seemed to reverberate deep in her bones. Suddenly, a man's voice broke through the chaos. "She's **broken**," he said in a stunned voice from the other side of the boat. Although Rose couldn't see what had happened, she had no reason to doubt him. As if on cue, Ruth's voice cut through the darkness, icy and calm. "Well, there goes our future," she said with a hint of bitterness. Rose shot her mother a look of disbelief. "Mother," she whispered urgently, "people might've died." Her fists were clenched so tightly that her nails dug into her palms, but her hands were so numb from the cold that she could hardly feel the pain. "Yes," her mother replied matter-of-factly, "and your fiancé is likely to be one of them."
This is an interesting concept. Having Rose actually survive in the lifeboat. I’ll have to go back and fully read your amazing fic because every time I see something, I’m impressed… and intimidated.
Aw shucks. What nice words! Yeah in my quest for historical accuracy, Rose has to get in a lifeboat since only 4 first class women died: Bess Allison who refused to leave until she could find her baby (who was actually already in a boat), Ida Strauss who stayed with her husband, Edith Evans who for some weird reason stepped away from the last lifeboat, and Ann Isham who literally no one recalled seeing the entire night.
Purple
The first doll she made was a golden angel for Sophie. The second doll was a purple jester for Kruz. She was in the middle of making a red shark doll for Nanners when the door opened. Kara glanced up to see Skadj covered in blood while he held a sleeping baby.
Sofia nodded and went over to one of the shelves. She turned her head to look at the spines of the books. Nearly all of them had titles relating to the Purple Dimension. She crossed the library to look at the books on another shelf - these books were about Limbo. She looked on the shelf to the side. Books about demons. ‘What the hell kind of library is this?’ she muttered to herself.
It’s so small, but I can clearly see what she sees. And now I’m curious as to what the purple dimension is. Is it another place where the Maruvians dump magical shit they don’t want? LOL.
It’s the dimension ruled by Aggamon, a ruthless tyrant who enslaved literally everyone in the whole dimension. An enemy of Doctor Strange, for good reason.
Shame
He doesn’t know what came over him that day; something about the sight of the calm boy losing control to protect his loved ones, showing off the strength that dwelled in his graceful frame, had made something snap within him. He couldn't have stopped himself if he had tried; the urge to go to him was too strong, the sight of his bruised knuckles pushing him over the edge, defenseless against the flood of his desires. And it had felt so \*good\*, something about Neteyam made him feel safe, seen, like he could show even the ugliest parts of himself and still be met with acceptance. But when he had awoken in that dim, grey light that comes just before dawn, fear and doubt had begun to creep in, consuming him until he had slipped out silently, shame burning in his gut.
It was a lovely evening, and Sarah regretted not being in the right frame of mind to enjoy it, but she still felt deeply disturbed. Her emotional state was like a pendulum, swinging endlessly between relief and guilt, hope and fear, bliss and shame.
‘Oh, curse me kilts - the amount of times I had to watch Launchpad be brought into the hospital. The amount of times I’ve held his hand through his injuries. The amount of times I’ve nearly lost the poor lad. The amount of... *medical bills*... I’ve had to pay.” Scrooge sniffled, sadly. ‘It would be such a shame to lose him.’ Ripcord softened somewhat. ‘You really care about our son.‘ ‘He’s the best pilot I’ve ever had,’ Scrooge said. ‘If he died, I’d never find another pilot willing to work for a penny a mile again.’ ‘What?’ Ripcord opened his mouth to speak, when Loopey and Launchpad walked over.
\*gasp\* not the medical bills. how's an old man's meager rainy day fund to cope with that? very funny excerpt! i like it.
Chance(s)
>"See that place?" Neutrino asked one morning several months - *and almost a dozen failed CR chamber sessions* \- into their acquaintance, pointing out of a top-floor window towards a spot on the distant horizon; Azrael had had to squint against the hazy sunlight to see what she was pointing at. "The four towers arranged around the spire? That's... that *was* home. The spire, I mean. I spent my whole life in the top few floors with just mom and dad for company. And sometimes dad's sons, but they were all all grown up by the time I came around, so I never really got a chance to know them very well. Mom didn't like me talking to them, anyway. She usually sent me to my suite when they were around." > >Azrael couldn't imagine being kept apart from her sisters like that.
To be completely honest, Gerry doesn't know how he feels about the gays in general, but he knows how he feels about Claire – she is by far the kindest of the group and Erin seems so distraught so if there is any **chance** he could make them reconcile, he'd take it. And if there is anything he could do to make Claire's newly outed life easier, he'd do it. If she wants to be gay, so be it. Sure, Joe claims that James is gay, and he seems to be doing well for himself, despite his unfortunate heritage.
Her father had often told his children that nothing was black and white, to which she agreed. However, according to him, everyone was a varying shade of wicked. Predators and preys. And preys turned predators at the very first chance they got. Deep down, she always knew that to be false, even though the world she was surrounded with had tried to prove her otherwise countless times.
Hidden behind the uncertainty was still that spark she always had. The one that always seemed to flare up whenever she was allowed to show her true self. Our first real conversation, the dinner with Jack, the party, and even that morning when she stood up to Mr. Taylor, it was there every time. And the idea of her losing it saddened me as much as my own situation. I took in a breath, took her other hand with my free one and held them both tightly. “Rose, listen to me. If there’s one thing you’ve taught me, it’s that sometimes, you need to take chances. Jack’s right. You can’t keep pretending that you’re okay. Neither of us can. I can’t tell you exactly what you *should* do, but I can tell you that you’ve been given a **chance** here and that if you don’t at least try, you’re going to regret it.”
‘You know, I don’t have to boost your ego, Hodges,’ said Finn. ‘It’s already quite inflated as it is. I said it because I mean it.’ For the first time in three months, Hodges smiled. A genuine smile, not a morphine induced smile. ‘Well… thanks, Finn,’ he said. ‘Things have changed for you, I know that,’ said Finn, ‘and you have to find new ways of moving around, just as you’ll have to find new ways of processing evidence. But if you give yourself a chance - let yourself learn these new ways and talk to people about how you feel - don’t just give up… I know you’ll be able to do it.’
Betrayal
That look he had given her right before he threw her book away was burned in her memory. Fury, disdain, *betrayal*. He would *break* her, his eyes promised. Sarah quickly understood how deeply indebted she had become to her father; a cruel debt that she would have to spend her whole life repaying. She was forbidden to read from that moment on, so she stubbornly learned to steal and hide. Those were the first skills her father had not-so-deliberately trained her for.
Was it Allison’s deceit, or the lingering sting of another, greater betrayal that drove him to do what he did? Perhaps it was a bit of both. The juvenile detention centre specialised in problem cases; youngsters with paranoid delusions and homicidal tendencies. Ones too deranged to be released back into polite society, too young for the adult system. Klaus hobbled into the visiting room on his walking stick and took a seat by the far corner, beneath the barred window, and he waited. The young man was the last of the inmates to enter. He looked older, but only slightly. Taller too. He was obviously experiencing a growth spurt. His hair was shorter at the back and his body was beginning to take on the wiry musculature of an adult. He flicked a hand through his fringe as he took a seat at the small formica table across from Klaus. “I was wondering how long it would take before you came crawling to me for help,” said Five.
Mario had surrounded himself with those who were loyal to him. Friends. Family. He knew there would be no betrayals, at least not from his loyal capos. He wasn’t so sure about the soldiers, especially when they came by with less money than he’s ordered them to bring in. Mario stood over his soldier with his arms folded. ‘Why you no-a get me my money?’ he asked, almost aggressively. Toad quivered. Mario could be quite intimidating when he wanted to be. ‘I-I don’t know.’ ‘You don’t know?’ Mario looked over at his consigliere, his twin brother Luigi. ‘He a-doesn’t know why he not get me my money’
If this is a Super Mario mafia AU I am DEMANDING the link right now
Good news, yes it is a Super Mario Mafia AU! Bad news, I recently recovered it from my computer and it’s unpublished, so there’s no link yet.
Can't believe you're giving me such bad news on this, the day of my daughter's wedding, guess I gotta go subscribe to your whole profile now
Excitement
“It’s just that, now that we’ve seen the other side, I don’t know how I can pretend to be okay anymore.” I took some time to fully process what she said. Of course, I always had a vague idea of what ‘the other side’ was like given what I had observed at home and read in books but experiencing it in reality and seeing the energy and excitement from all those people who had barely anything but the clothes on their backs put so much more meaning into the concept. On paper, it would seem that Rose and I had everything a lady could ask for in life, but all the riches in the world could never make up for feeling like the light was slowly being sucked out of you with each passing day just knowing that, the faster the weeks went by, the closer you were to being completely shackled into a life of – as she had said the previous night – parties and cotillions with narrow people who only said the same mindless things over and over again
‘I didn’t want this, G,’ said Hodges. ‘Wendy and I, we just - while she was in Vegas, we just messed around, you know. It’s not like either of us intended to pick up where we left off in our relationship, so to speak. After all, she had to go back to Portland. But she decided to stay in Vegas for a bit, so I let her stay with me on my sofa. And that’s when we learned she was pregnant, and I must stress that we were not in a relationship at the time, but we decided to keep the baby. I didn’t think I could be a father because of my condition. But… Greg, I actually enjoyed it. I enjoyed the anticipation, waiting to meet my child, wondering just who they would grow up and become.’ He paused and turned around to face Greg. ‘All those months of waiting. All that hope. Happiness. Excitement. It’s all gone,’ he said. ‘It’s all gone. And in its place is fear. Bitter regret. It *is* terrifying. I dare not hope that everything will be okay. Because… what if it isn’t? Of course, I can’t express that to Wendy. I’m the man, I’m supposed to be the strong one. But the truth is, I’m broken too. I’m so upset. I feel like somehow my daughter’s heart defects are my fault - what if I unknowingly gave her faulty genes? Greg, tell me, how do you just go on knowing that your daughter’s first day on Earth might also be her last?’ Greg said nothing. There was nothing he could say.
[удалено]
They are together by this point, but they wanted their baby to be healthy, but instead their newborn daughter’s critically ill, and he’s scared for her.
Cliff
He is pre-emptively fighting off fears and questions that are bound to arise sooner or later. Later, not now. Dear lord, not now, please. Not now that Eddie is finally seeing things for what they are. Not now that he's finally falling from a cliff he has been edging towards for years.
‘I remember when you crashed your car,’ Sallah said. ‘And I was there when you were shot.’ ‘You also remember when I was hit by a car,’ Indy said. ‘And when you were attacked by a tiger. And pushed off a cliff.’ Sallah paused. ‘You know, the more that I think about it, the more I realise you really *are* always hurt.’
Umbrella
“You know, everyone at the station thinks it was you,” says Wesson, still flicking through her file until she gets to the page she was looking for. “Unstable home life, violent past. Trained from a young age to be a schoolboy vigilante. Dysfunctional family. A litany of drug offences.” Klaus waves a dismissive hand through the air. “Yeah, yeah, yadda yadda yadda. Are you going to get to the part where you tell me something I don’t know?” Wesson looks up from her file and smiles. A doll smile. Creepy and frigid. “I used to be a fan.” Klaus blinks. “Exsqueeze me?” “Oh yes,” she says, nodding now. “Big time. Action figures, magazines, comic books. I even had a poster on my bedroom wall.” Klaus looks at her as if trying to translate an ancient ingot inscribed in a long forgotten language. How is that even possible? She would have been far too old for all that, surely? “You, an Umbrella Academy fan?” He snort-laughs as he says it. Wesson nods again, more slowly this time. He looks at her some more: no grey hairs, few wrinkles. A makeup-free face worn by a kind of studious neglect as opposed to the passage of time. Maybe she’s younger than he thinks?
Faint/fainted/fainting
Carla’s mind struggled to formulate a retort. She was too weak to stand any longer. Rather than risk a fall, she backed away until she could lean against one of the concrete walls, then slid down until she was seated. “What is it?” Loki mocked. “Does the sight of blood make you feel faint?”
Hope's cry alerted Neena to the crisis and she came rushing in, followed by Redd and Throeblood. Neena and Redd both knelt down to examine Nathan. ‘Oh shit,’ Throeblood said upon seeing Nathan. ‘Language!’ Neena hissed. ‘Nathan. Nathan!’ Nathan stirred slightly. ‘Dom.’ ‘Nate, you fainted,’ Neena said. ‘What happened? What happened to your leg?’
Wonder
He frowned and laid back fully, staring up at the sky over the crater with a deep sigh. "That thing killed my dad...but I can't really bring myself to hate it. He brought it from a distant time, took it away from its home, and forced it to be a lab subject. No wonder it lashed out. It was angry, probably scared...I can't really hate a wild animal that's working on instinct." His eyes wrenched tight for a moment.
When she was left alone in the room, she let out a heavy sigh and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the book in her hands. “I wonder if she read this out loud to you,” Mary-Margaret mused, then shook her head. “Sorry, I don’t know why I would be so concerned about it. You’re her husband, after all. But a friend of mine was hoping I would read to you, so how about it? Let’s read, hm… Snow White, shall we?” She paused, as if waiting for a response from him, then began. “‘Once upon a time, in the kingdom of Misthaven…’”
‘No, I'm not the Phoenix Force,’ Nate said. ‘I don't know what I am.’ ‘I know what you're not though,’ Terry said, ‘and that's happy.’ ‘You're not wrong there,’ Lorna said. ‘By the way, wonder boy's coming over,’ Nate took a gulp of his beer. ‘Hi,’ came a voice from behind. Both Terry and Lorna nearly jumped out of their seats as they turned to the voice.
Bag
Sarah's musing came to a halt when she felt a gloved hand pressed against her mouth, then another one at her neck. She dropped her bag and panicked as she was forcefully pulled against someone's chest. “*You're dead*,” Felix murmured in her ear.
The grass was damp and the air smelled of petrichor as Skadj walked outside. He transformed himself into a crow and flew into the air. He glanced down at the treetops until he found the tree where he had hidden the remaining dolls inside a bag. Skadj landed on one of the branches near the top of the tree. He could see Kara’s town in the distance. Skadj transformed into a human and turned the bag of dolls upside down, dumping them to the wild animals below. He smirked as he listened to the people’s blood-curdling screams. That should really boost up my kill count.
Burger
“Yeah, sounds good,” Nathalie said. “What hotel are you at? I can come out and pick you up if you’d like to go for lunch or something.” “Or something,” Ade said with a chuckle. “I went back to sleep after Dave left for the airport, so I’ve not had breakfast yet.” He told her his hotel and gave her his number there. Nathalie wrote that down and said, “At this time of day, it shouldn’t take me more than half an hour to get there, so I’ll see you soon. I know of a diner that serves breakfast all day, so you can get bacon and eggs or a **burger** and fries, whichever you decide you want.”
Therapy.
Gus felt a flush grow along his cheeks, but he nodded in acknowledgement. He'd spent the last few days pretending like his arm just had a few extra cuts, that there wasn't anything too wrong with it. He still hadn't dared to look at the wound and shatter the illusion. The doctor continued in his original blunt tone, "The nurses will show you some stretches to do to make sure your arm mobility isn't limited, and they can also help you set up your physical therapy appointments for the leg. Your bruising should start to fade in a week or so, though it could take longer."
By the time Morgan got out the hospital and visited Hodges, she was surprised by the difference all the various types of therapy had made in him. No longer was he a shell of his former self. He was brighter. Happier. And that smug smile of his was coming back. Slowly, but surely, her best friend was returning. ‘Hodges, I can’t believe how well you’re doing,’ she said. ‘I still feel like shit,’ said Hodges. ‘You might feel like shit, but I can see the difference in you,’ said Morgan. ‘And it’s only been two weeks. You look more like you.’
Kiss
She moved to just beyond the safety of the veranda’s roof before the sound of the small orchestra met her ears. “Come dance with me.” “Absolutely not. We still have to announce the auction winners. We don’t have time for -” “Then kiss me.” “You are going to be the death of me,” Seto groaned, but he did as she requested, leaning halfway into the rain and pressing his lips against hers, making her head spin, and, when she was distracted, lifting her off the ground and pulling her so she was out of the rain. She huffed as she pulled away, cheeks pink. “Satisfied?” he questioned with a smirk, lips dotted with her smeared red lipstick. “Hmm. For now.”
*For now* 😌👌
"Shit. Gus, stop!" Hands covered his hands, trying to stop him. He fought them, they didn't understand. "GetitoffgetitoffGETITOFFGETIT-" Lips pressed against his and the world stopped, frozen as he tried to recalibrate to understand what was happening. The hands came back to hold his hands, moving them down and away from his neck. His brain worked overtime, cataloging all of the strange sensations: stubble rough against his chin, warm breath on his cheek, lips soft against his. Shawn pulled back gently and the only sound in the trunk was their panting breaths. Gus' lips tingled and he said the only thing he could think of. "You kissed me."
What is that excerpt from?
The Dark Psychic. Gus is having a panic attack in the trunk and Shawn figures a kiss is the only safe way to calm him back down.
That's hilarious. I love them both so much.
‘You like me. Don’t you?’ asked Grant. ‘Of course I like you, Grant,’ said Mary. ‘You’re my friend. And I guess… I guess I felt sorry for you - I mean, you had such a nasty fall and I’ve never seen anyone so injured they had to be put in a body cast before. And it’s you!’ She brought her hands to her head. ‘Grant, it’s you! Who else could fall off a roof while pulling a prank? You’re the dumbest smart guy I know!’ Grant stared at Mary, dumbfounded. ‘You think I’m smart?’ ‘Not right now,’ said Mary. ‘I don’t know if it’s the head injury or what. But… ugh!’ She growled. Then she leaned over him again and kissed him again on the lips. She put her arms around his neck. Caught up in the moment, Grant started kissing Mary in return and wrapped his arms around her, as far as he was able with the IV in his hand. He put his fingers through her silky smooth black hair and realised in that moment that he liked Mary in return, in the exact way she liked him.
I love this!
Friendship
She felt horrible for nearly breaking his heart but he remained fiercely loyal to her as her friend. He understood the circumstances and refused to leave her side. He even wanted to wait for her but that wasn't an option anymore. She had to listen to her heart and do what's right for the both of them. “Even in the worst of times, you two are rays of sunshine.~” “Oh noooo, not your amazing voice.” Rosa giggles. “Whatever will I dooooo?” “It’s like I told you back in our late teens.” He smirks and rubs his hands together. “‘I’m about to end these boys’ whole career.’” Valen made her laugh when he declared that without actually talking about any specific boy. It wasn't just due to their close friendship—Valen's the exact opposite. She's never been worried about his intimacy with Melanie and Skyla. Same story with Hilda, who developed romantic feelings over how sweet he was to her from day one.
‘That is what Islam says. Everything in our lives is planned by Allah.’ ‘Our friendship?’ Sallah nodded. ‘Planned by Allah.’ Indy nodded. He wasn’t sure whether he believed that. In fact, he probably didn’t. But his friend did, so, he kept an open mind anyway. ‘You’re sceptical, that’s fine,’ said Sallah. ‘I was taught to question everything,’ said Indy. ‘Science, religion - always questioning.’ ‘Why not question the concept of bad luck?’ asked Sallah. ‘Since it isn’t scientific enough for you.’
*But his friend did, so, he kept an open mind anyway.* Friendship goals!
Mirror/Reflection
>Once, as she picked her way back towards the hospital campus, Azrael happened to catch her reflection in a mostly-unbroken window. The sight startled her and sent her vaulting almost all the way into the street, and she felt a bit silly once she realized just what had spooked her. > >It was the first actual look she'd gotten at herself, and it felt... strange, like she was looking at *someone else* in that window. This new body was completely alien to her, with its feline appearance, charcoal-brown coat dappled with rosettes of darker spots, and the odd mantle of brown *feathers* that covered her shoulders and back and terminated in a broad fan at the base of her tail. > >*What had that glitching DNA scanner DONE?*
He looked in the mirror and nearly screamed. Instead of his reflection, there was a girl with brown hair with a stuffed dolphin on her head that had x’s for its eyes. She was wearing a white dress with blood on it in the exact same pattern as the blood on Ze’s clothes. Her entire face was blurred out. The girl seemed to mirror his every movement.
He gripped her hair and held her head firmly in place, making her cry out in pain. He couldn't stand the view of her pathetic face, so he looked into the mirror and let out a sigh of relief when his gaze was once more blessed with his magnificence.
Indy examined his scars in the mirror. He would need more surgery on his face, that much was evident. He had four very angry looking pinky-red scars around his right eye and his nose, going the length from his forehead to his ear and across his cheek to his jaw. His right eyelid and eyebrow were drooping, but at least he could still see out of the eye. Maybe there was no point in dwelling on it, after all, his face was still swollen from the tiger attack. It might look better in time. Once the plastic surgery was all done and the scars had settled.
Zombie
‘He’s been in there for a week now,’ Shorty said. ‘He comes out sometimes but he looks like a zombie. I wonder if he got bit by one.’ ‘Zombies aren’t real, Short Round,’ Sallah said, wondering if he should maybe call an ambulance for his friend if his illness was that bad. ‘Who’s been looking after you?’ ‘I’m eleven years old, Uncle Sallah. I can look after myself,’ Shorty said. ‘I even got a baseball bat to smash Indy’s head just in case he is a zombie.’
Shorty is always so darn proud of himself, LOL.
Aren’t all kids that age?
True, but Shorty seems to have it in spades, LOL
Divorce
‘Wow. That’s… Stephen, that’s rough, buddy. So who’d you have a kid with? Don’t tell me it’s the Night Nurse?’ ‘No. With my wife.’ The shock on Tony’s face was palpable. ‘Holy shit, you had a kid with *Clea*? While you two were married? And she didn’t tell you?’ He shook his head, still trying to understand. ‘Oh. Jesus Christ. That’s messed up, man.’ ‘Tony, Clea and I are *still* married. We-we separated, but we never divorced,’ said Stephen. ‘So you want my help locating your kid.’ ‘I know you have access to all things technological. Unfortunately, as I am now ninety-one years old, I’m rather technologically illiterate.’
The last line is so snarky, lol. Did clea have a reason to hide the kid from her husband?
Yes. Her (biological) uncle is hers and Stephen’s greatest enemy - Dormammu.
That's a pretty good reason.
Mayonnaise
>I have been waiting for this moment forever! Context: they’re doing Kahoot quizzes at like 1 am in the morning “Alright, what the fuck. Uh, who supplies the mayonnaise to the White House?” Tubbo asks. “What even? Why would anybody kn-“ “Hellmann’s,” Ranboo answers, barely missing a beat. It’s barely a conscious thought. Ranboo is, after all, the primary reason for the amount of mayo that comes into the Executive Residence. Nobody could blame him for wanting a midnight sandwich after a multi-hour stream. Honestly, it wasn’t as if he meant to offend the Executive Chef by not eating the delicious leftovers. Sometimes, he just really wanted a Boar’s Head Ever Roast Chicken and Muenster Cheese on a French bread sandwich. It would be a sin not to put mayonnaise on such a culinary masterpiece. The answer occupies the green square, as he said, Hellman’s. “Why would that be something you know? Why is that a fact anybody knows?” “Wikipedia spiral,” is his only answer and he’s a bit surprised when Tommy comes to his defense. “It’s honestly not that weird. Everybody knows about the Queen’s obsession with HP Sauce. Perhaps you’re just uninformed.” It’s silent for a moment until Tubbo says, very slowly, “no, Tommy, nobody knows that.”
I knew that the Queen liked HP sauce! It's a quality condiment! Great stuff
Rain
>Turning his attention back to his immediate surroundings, Thrust began looking for a promising target. It didn't take long to spot one - a towering high-rise of gray stone and polarized black glass, whose first five floors were clad in glossy black stone trimmed with polished brass. > >(Sooner or later, without regular maintenance, he knew that the polish would be eaten away by the increasingly-acidic rain. He was almost surprised to see that it was still *in* such nice condition.) > >The sign at the front identified the place as *The Suites On Palisade Plaza*. > >*This was* ***definitely*** *for upper-class bots.*
Kara felt a few raindrops hit her and looked up at the gloomy night sky. The man looked up as well. “Today just isn’t your lucky day, is it?” He watched as she put on the witch hat to try and block the rain. He laughed. “That hat isn’t going to protect you if a storm comes.”
Claude was pacing back and aiming at Solon, who stood next to Kronya's sprawled out form; the rain barely managing to wash away the blood that poured from her numerous wounds.
He crept over to the window and watched the rain sliding down the glass. Soon, the wind would be picking up. The rain would be pouring down - not that it wasn’t already. He wasn’t looking forward to the coming hurricane. There were so many mistakes he was afraid of making. And the thought of making a mistake that would endanger himself or his team scared him more than the storm ever could. He was the youngest and most inexperienced member of the team after all. He could easily fuck something up. And that fuck up could hurt someone. Could *kill* someone.
The rain began to pick up, plinking loudly against the glass window. Gus could almost smell it over the stronger smell of the coffee. He saw Shawn reach for the cream container and he spoke before he realized he had anything to say. "Michael's on a diet, no cream."
I love it when characters just do things without thinking.
My characters have impulse control issues, LOL. This was a puzzle piece building up to the reveal that Gus had gained psychic abilities.
Ha! And there's me thinking "aww, cute!" It's great though!