#and yes getting electrocuted hurts

[isagrimorie]

Criminal Minds Evolution 17x10 - Save the Children

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Protector

Paring: Simon Ghost Riley x f!reader

Warnings: torture, canon typical violence, protective ghost, mentions of past trauma, angst, hurt/comfort

Words: 6.5k words

Synopsis: You and Ghost were captured and tortured...

This is based on this post that I made a while ago. Basically "touch her and I'll kill you" trope.

EDIT: Here's part 2

“…Get up!”

“…Fucking get up!”

The voice seemed familiar. It was rough, low and resonated in your head. Furious but hidden beneath it was a desperate plea.

Searing hot pain resonated from the back of your head and though your eyes were open you couldn't see a thing through the bright light that burned into your eyes. Something hot rolled down your face and the back of your neck as you stared into the blurry light trying to discern what was going on.

You couldn’t move a muscle, not even your fingers as an intense coppery taste fell into your mouth. It hurt to breathe against the cold floor, your chest and sides collapsing into you causing you to wheeze.

You blinked almost in slow motion. Unable to let your eyes shut despite the pulling weight you felt as if you were going to sink into the floor and fall asleep. You were tired and so cold yet you couldn’t even shiver without feeling pain electrocute you.

“You hear him?” A gruff voice, almost muffled but cold and condescending, called out to you as you felt a nudge on your side. You winced but that’s all you could do as you stared up at the shadow in front of you. “He wants you to get up."

Another voice just as cold said something in a different language you couldn't comprehend in your state. They argued back and forth while you tried to find the familiar person.

You squinted through the light to try to discern who was in front of you. Your vision was too blurry from pain and tears but no matter how many times you blinked them away you couldn't see. It made your heart race but the heavy beating hurt against your chest more than it should.

A swift kick to your gut knocked the wind out of you before you could cry out in pain. You gasped for air as tears ran down your face and more blood filled your mouth. The kick left sharp pains inside your abdomen and every moment you couldn't take in a breath, the more it hurt.

Hands grabbed onto your arms and yanked you off the ground, ignoring the cries you let out as they dragged you across the floor. You were thrown onto a chair and winced when you felt your restraints dig into your sore wrists and ankles as they tightened them around you again.

A hand grabbed you jaw and squeezed, causing you to wince again as you were forced to look ahead of you.

“She’s up now.” The man snickered and your attention moved in front of you. “This is what you wanted, yes?”

Your captor was talking to a man who was tied to a chair in front of you. Now that the light was partially out of your eyes and gravity allowed your tears to be blinked away, you could see.

The man across from you looked unfamiliar. His blond hair was stained with red and his face was bruised with blood as well. Despite that he seemed to have much more strength than you did since he was able to sit up straight when you couldn’t even hold your own head up.

Your eyes widened when you realized that was your lieutenant. That was Ghost.

You were seeing Ghost without his mask.

“Just tell us what we want and you can stop this.” Your captor gestured to your face.

Ghost glared at the man who held your face but said nothing. You couldn’t see how angry he was, how much hatred there was in his eyes and if looks could kill then both of you would’ve been free by now.

Blood dripped from your mouth and your captor let go of you by shoving your head away. He growled something under his breath as he walked away from you. You wanted to see what he was going to do but you didn’t have enough strength to lift your head up. You were glad for that however because almost immediately you could hear the man beating Ghost.

You wished you could tune out the sounds but you couldn’t. Every grunt and labored breath hit your ears, threatening you with an experience you had just been through.

You gathered all the strength you could muster and tried to struggle against your restraints but it wasn’t even enough to make them dig into your skin. You wheezed again and when those few seconds of fighting left you, you were hit with intense exhaustion.

Your eyes fluttered shut and you passed out.

~

Ghost’s chest heaved up and down as fresh blood ran down his face. He wasn’t sure how long his face had been used as a punching bag but he preferred it over being used as a cutting board instead. He would prefer to be anywhere else but in a concrete room, in a building that Price was struggling to find, however that was the risk that came with the job.

A simple recon mission had turned into getting captured by Russian weapons dealers. They weren’t exactly the hospitable type considering his nose was broken and he was missing a few fingernails.

He wasn’t new to torture but this had to be the worst torture method he had been through.

Ghost looked up at you and felt his entire world shatter.

If he hadn’t seen your eyes searching for him, he would’ve thought you were dead. You were covered in blood and bruises of all colors. Your clothes were tattered from having knives carved into your skin and he could see a few burn marks that would surely leave nasty scars. You had lost so much blood he was surprised you were still alive but so grateful you were holding on.

You weren’t supposed to be in here with him and there was no denying that it was his fault you were.

You both had been captured at the same time, a mistake from you both but he took the sole blame for it as your lieutenant. You were separated and Ghost assumed that they were at least keeping you locked up without touching you while they tried their hardest to get information out of him.

He assumed they were just going to keep trying, they were going to continue to beat the living hell out of him and he was going to say nothing to them. But he was proved wrong when they quickly realized they were getting nowhere with him so they brought you in to try to beat it out of you too. And then Ghost made the stupid mistake by opening his mouth and telling them to stop.

It took one word from him to seal your fate. One word and you became their favorite toy to beat, cut and harm in every possible way just to get Ghost to talk.

You were being used against him and as much as he wanted to deny it, to say he was an operative who knew how to handle these situations and was disciplined beyond the nines, it was working.

Every scream, every cry you let out broke down his defenses and it became harder for Ghost to keep his mouth shut. He wanted to tell them everything and that was scary for more than one reason which made him feel sick.

Scary because if they got the right info out of him, he could jeopardize the lives of many and become even more of a failure than he already was in this moment. Scary because if he was willing to break to end your suffering for the sake of both of you, he had to come to terms with how he truly felt about you.

And right now he couldn’t.

Ghost stopped himself by telling himself that once he gave them the info they needed, both of you were going to die. It was enough to keep his mouth shut until the next round of torture came.

All of the torture and pain for you was going to end soon. There was a spot on his restraints that was hidden from the weapons dealers that he had been working on since he had been strapped down. He could feel it start to become loose enough he could break his hand free, he just had to wait for the right moment.

“Sergeant.” He called out to your limp form with a raspy voice before he spit blood onto the floor.

You didn’t respond. You were out cold and his chest hurt more if it was even possible.

This past round of torture had been especially cruel and long. The weapons dealers had been relentless in their beatings, going so far as to toss you on the ground to kick you as hard as they could until you were coughing up blood.

“You better not fucking die on me.” He tugged on his restraint and never looked away from you. “That’s an order.”

It was a feeble attempt to make himself feel better. He worked against his restraint, staring at the bruises on your skin and the blood dripping from your face onto your clothes.

He thought about how you were going to be so much more damaged after this. Your smile was going to be absent from your beautiful face, your laughter would no longer grace his soul, you probably wouldn’t even give him those little touches he thought he hated. They had hurt you so much more than he ever wanted to think about and that made him pissed.

Ghost broke through it with ease. Adrenaline and rage coursed through his veins as he wasted no time ripping the rest of his restraints off. When he was finally free he shot up from his chair and nearly collapsed on the floor.

He was in worse shape than he wanted to believe.

Black spots dotted his vision and his aching muscles weighed him down enough that he had to hold onto the chair to keep himself from falling. His head pounded furiously which made it difficult to even blink as he found himself short of breath even though he had only stood up from the chair.

Everything hurt but he couldn’t let that stop him. He needed to be strong for you. He could rest when you were safe.

He pushed off the chair and kneeled in front of you. His eyes jumped all over you, trying to make sure you weren’t actively bleeding out before he gently cupped your face with shaky hands.

“Sergeant.” His voice was softer than usual as he held your face. “Come on, wake up.”

When Ghost moved your head ever so slightly you woke up with a slight jump. You immediately began to breathe quicker, thinking that a new round of torture was going to start before he spoke.

“It’s me.” He assured you and watched your eyes finally open. He always thought he was blessed by the universe when you looked at him but now he truly felt like the luckiest man to see them after all you both had been through. “It’s Ghost.”

“Ghost…” You rasped out, wincing from the pain as you relaxed now that he was in front of you.

“I’m here.”

He kept a hand on your cheek as he began to undo your restraints, one of his fingers pressed against your weak pulse. You weren’t bleeding out but a few more beatings like the one you had just endured and you’d be gone from him. He had to be quick and extremely careful when breaking out of here.

“I’m getting us out of here.” He explained in a low tone as your wrists became free but you didn’t move to get up. “We’ll have to move quick. I can’t fight and carry you at the same time, think you can walk for me?”

Ghost was prepared to have to carry you if you said you couldn’t. He’d come up with another plan instead of fighting his way out of there.The idea of moving sounded horrible to you, he could see it in your eyes, but you nodded as you gripped the chair tightly to prepare yourself to stand up.

He grabbed your arms as gently as he could and was going to help you up when he heard movement outside of the room.

“Fuck.” He gently set you back down in the chair and held your face so you were looking at him. “Stay.”

He moved away from you, and took position beside the door and listened to the approaching footsteps with bated breath. The silence in his ears was only broken by the loud beating of his heart as he braced himself for a fight he was determined to win.

When the door opened, his eyes narrowed. All of the torture he endured turned into anger but all of the torture you endured turned into blinding hot rage. He barely had enough self control to wait for the man to even enter the room before he began swinging.

The man let out a shocked yelp as Ghost’s fist connected with his face. He had no time to react when he grabbed the man by the shirt and flung him in the wall, pinning him against it as he rammed his fist into his face relentlessly.

Ghost was seeing red. He kneed the man in the stomach and caught his arm when he tried to fight back, ignoring the loud crack that came from it when twisted it as hard as he could. He didn’t care when the man screamed in pain, in fact he almost relished in it before he managed to wrap his arms around the man's neck and started to choke him.

He easily could’ve snapped it. The fight would’ve been over but he didn’t want it to end that quick. He wanted this man to suffer for putting his hands on you, almost wishing he could return the damage but there was no time for that.

The man went limp and Ghost threw him on the ground. He was breathing heavily as he snatched the knife he had from his back pocket.

The man deserved worse.

“Still with me, sergeant?” He rushed back over to you and when you nodded he carefully wrapped his arms around you. “We gotta go.”

You tried not to scream, but a groan left your throat as pain flushed over you when he pulled you up. Your chest heaved up and down as your vision went black, and you fell against Ghost. You felt his protective arms hold you up and close to him as you waited for your vision to come back. You could hardly stand on your own but you gripped his forearms for dear life while you forced yourself to stay strong.

“I’m okay.” You didn’t sound convincing as you tried to push away from him but he wouldn’t let go.

“No.” He bent down and wrapped his arm under your knees before you picked up with ease despite the screaming pain in his muscles. “I’ve got you.”

You were unnaturally cold in his arms. He held you close to his chest to try to warm you up. His heart skipped a beat when you wrapped your arms around him and hid your face in the crook of his neck. He adjusted his hold on you, trying his best not to hurt you as he did, and made his way towards the door.

He hoped that no one had heard the struggle and when he glanced at the body on the ground, it took a lot of self control not to kick it.

“Your mask…” Your weak voice was close to his ear and sent a shiver down his spine.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll be fine.”

He hadn’t even thought about his face being exposed. He didn’t care if anyone saw his face at this moment, the only thing on his mind was getting you out of there.

Ghost peered out of the door down the dimly lit hall. He wasn’t sure how big the building was but luckily for the both of you no one seemed to be around. That didn’t make him feel any less on edge, in fact he was more on edge since he didn’t know the layout of the building or the routine any of its inhabitants had. For all he knew, someone could be coming around the corner and you’d both be screwed.

He stepped out in the hallway, keeping his attention on both sides as he stayed close to the wall. He moved close to the ground, trying to keep his footsteps quiet.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered as he turned around a corner.

“Stop.” He interrupted and felt more anger rise in him “I don’t want to hear any of that. Not now or when we get out of here.”

“Sorry…”

Noise from down the hall made him stop. His heart started to race and he quickly raced back to the corner, hiding behind it as he listened to the approaching chatter of two guards.

His eyes frantically searched for a room to hide in before he noticed what looked to be like a supply closet. He swung the door open and stepped inside, struggling to shut the door before they rounded the corner. He got it to close to a crack before he heard their voices closer than ever.

He stilled and held you closer to him. He felt your arms wrap just a little bit tighter around his shoulders as you both tried to breathe quieter. In the silence of the supply closet he could hear just how bad your wheezing was and it only gave him more motivation to get out of there as fast as he could.

He hoped neither one of your lungs were going to collapse before you made it out.

The chatter from the guards slowly began to disappear but he waited. He didn’t move a muscle even after the guards were long gone from the hallway. He wanted to be sure that no one else was going to show but for the first time since he had been subjected to torture he was able to catch his breath.

The pitch black closet and the silence within gave him a sense of security. He was fine with listening to your breathing in his ear as he shut his eyes for just a moment, just to find some peace.

You must’ve felt the same since your hold around him loosened and your breathing had gone steady. He held you closer to him, making sure you were still secure in his arms.

“They hurt you.” You whispered, causing him to open his eyes.

You were pointing out the obvious but he could hear the worry in your voice especially when your thumb caressed a cut on his neck.

“I’ve been through worse, don’t worry about me.” Ghost assured you as he pushed the closet door open with his foot. “You should see yourself.”

You grunted maybe out of pain or exhaustion when you were reminded of the serious state you were in. Your eyes were barely able to stay open as he maneuvered through the halls again.

“Thought you were dead.”

“Hurts too much for that.”

Ghost clenched his jaw tightly, making a mental note that when you both got out here to find the fuckers. He would request a solo mission when he got off leave just for the purpose of finding the other weapons dealer. They may have been able to capture him this one time but they made the mistake of not killing him before he got out.

He quickened his pace down the hall, hoping to find some sort of indication of where he was going. There were no signs, the walls were so empty that he wondered if maybe he was going in circles. He huffed and hoped that wasn’t the case.

A yell echoed off the walls, not too far from where he stood, and he instinctively tightened his grip on you. You winced and he wanted to apologize but he was now on high alert as he listened to the angry voices that were impossible to tell where they were coming from.

He was an expert at this. It was his job to sweep the halls and be prepared for everything, to know when someone could be next or when he was approaching an enemy. His hyper awareness of his surroundings was second nature and yet he had gotten into this situation and he was struggling to put those skills back into use.

He was distracted by his aching muscles and screaming wounds that stained his dirty clothes. His mind raced with trying to keep track of where he was and keeping you safe.

You were taking up most of his mind too. He was trying to not hurt you, to jostle you around and make your wounds worse while trying to hightail it out of there so you could get the help that you needed. He was being too kind to your wounds in a situation like this, his military training of just getting the person out and dealing with the aftermath completely gone from his mind.

There were too many things on his mind and he wasn’t able to control it like he usually did.

It was going to get you both killed, but he couldn’t do it and that’s how he knew he needed to get out there quick. He wasn’t in any shape to be doing this yet if he had waited any longer then you both could’ve died as well. Overall, the situation you both were in was the worst case scenario that no one wanted to be in while working this job.

“Need you to hold onto me and not let go.” Ghost told you and though you had been doing that already, he wanted to make sure you were going to do it when he would need to run away.

“Okay.” You said through gritted teeth as his fingers dug into a particularly sore spot on your side.

Once you tightened your hold around him, enough to where it made him flinch from the pain, he began to jog down the hallway. Despite his quick movements and being as massive as he was, his footsteps were still light enough that it would be difficult to hear him.

He hoped that at some point he would come across a window or a room he could stop in to look for information. He couldn’t keep going around the base full of enemies who would most likely kill on sight blind. Every moment he spent wandering through the halls he was taking a gamble with death.

His ears heard it before he could register it.

Footsteps from around the corner, fast ones that came up onto him far too quickly for him to turn and run the other direction. He barely had time to react when three men rounded the corner.

One of the men didn’t hesitate to slam his fist into Ghost's jaw even after they were startled by seeing him. Ghost stumbled back and tried to hold onto you but the man practically ripped you out of his arms to throw you on the ground.

He was pushed back into the wall, becoming disoriented by the barrage of punches to his sore head, unable to throw any punches back himself.

You were trying your best to fight one of the other guards who had trapped you on the floor underneath as he laid waste to you but your injuries made it extremely difficult to do anything, all the while the other man carefully watched.

Ghost managed to get one good punch to the man jugular before he pulled the knife out of his pocket. He stabbed it through the man’s neck, jamming in it as far as he could while he choked on his blood, before he threw him on the ground.

He didn’t hesitate to throw the knife at the man on top of you, hitting him right in the neck.

With the last of your strength you pushed the guard off you and sliced the knife across his throat.

“Y/n!” Ghost called out to you when he watched you go limp before he turned his attention on the other man.

He saw red again when he realized it was the other weapons dealer. He clenched his fists and charged towards the weapons dealer. He noticed the gun that was pointed at him but he was too focused on the hidden look of fear in the man's eyes as he sprinted towards him.

The weapons dealer pulled the trigger and hit Ghost in the thigh, but that didn’t stop him. Nothing but a bullet to the head was going to stop him from his determination to kill the man in front of him.

Ghost grabbed the man by the wrist to twist it and the gun went off in his ear. He wasted no time to punch him as hard as he could, the ringing in his ears spurring him on. He slammed his fist into his face as hard as he could, feeling his knuckles crack from the force.

He lifted his good leg and kicked the man’s knee cap in, causing them both to fall to the floor. The weapons dealer tried to roll out from under him but Ghost grabbed him by the hair and slammed his face into the concrete repeatedly to stop him.

He was feral, blinded by rage, harming the man in front of him not out of survival but out of passionate revenge. Memories of your screams made him go crazy as he wrapped his hands around the weapons dealer neck. Every cry replayed in his mind along with the image of your damaged body causing him to squeeze hard while the man struggled underneath him.

If Ghost could see himself he would be unrecognizable. Your pain had resurfaced an old evil within him that hadn’t seen the light of day since he adopted his new name. It brought the monster that was obsessed with violence and the death of anyone who dared to lay a harmful hand on him or the one he loved.

There was a reason why this side of him had been put out of commission. He hated the scalding hotness that raced through his veins, the tightness in his throat, and the way he felt out of control. It was dangerous.

He was dangerous.

The weapons dealer’s body went limp. It took a moment for Ghost to realize he was dead but when he saw that he was no longer writhing underneath him, he released his hands.

Ghost was breathing heavily as he stared down at the dead body underneath him. His vision blackened and whitened, hot liquid running down his leg and staining his dirty pants with fresh blood. He felt dizzy from the blows to his head and the rapid blood loss which made it hard for him to get up from the floor.

He clenched his teeth, almost breaking them as he crawled his way to you. He bit back any groans as he came up to you, placing his fingers on your pulse.

It was weak, almost non-existent, but still there. That was enough to keep him going.

He cradled your head with hands that had just committed atrocities so gently. He stared down at the blood pouring out of your nose and the new bruises that were already forming. He hoped for your sake that your face wasn’t broken.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” He assured you even though you were unconscious. He carefully pulled you into his arms again and held onto you securely. “Gonna get you out of here. Gonna patch you up, make you okay.”

His words were slurred and he was blabbering. The blood loss was getting to him and he knew if he didn’t try to move now, both of you were going to die.

Ghost braced himself, taking a deep breath and stood up on shaky legs. He couldn’t hold back the groan of pain that ripped through his throat. He took shallow breaths, his skin getting sweaty and cold before he resumed down the hall as if nothing had happened.

He limped down the cold, ugly hallways and left a trail of blood in his wake. Every step felt like the bullet wound grew bigger, ripping his skin apart until there was nothing left.

He didn’t care. The only thing on his mind was you.

You. Just you.

Your poor state. Your conscious body as it hung limp in his arms, covered in dirt, blood, grime. Hours, days worth of pain that would never go away that would forever soil your mind and body with scars. You could be dead in his arms, having bled out internally and he wouldn’t know until he got out of there.

“You’re okay.” He mumbled to push those thoughts away. “You’re okay…”

Ghost kept repeating it to himself like a mantra. It helped him keep the little amount of strength he had to keep you in his arms when he heard rapid footsteps echo off the halls again.

He was prepared to run or try to at least. He was prepared to fight until he was shot through if it meant you would somehow survive.

“Simon!”

He knew that voice. The rough, commanding voice belonged to Price and he had never been happier to hear him bark out his name. He felt like he could breathe again as he stopped in his tracks.

He was lucky that Price had finally found them and he wondered if maybe that’s what spurred on the sudden yelling from the base. Honestly he didn’t care at the moment. You were getting out of that hell hole and neither of you had to ever step foot back in it. He nearly collapsed as he heard his team’s footsteps get closer but he held on as he swallowed thickly.

He blinked the blurriness from his eyes and looked ahead of him seeing the rest of the task force armed to the teeth rushing towards him.

“Take her.” That was the first thing he said to them as they approached him and he held you out.

Gaz quickly took you from his arm, holding you close to him before he raced down the hall following behind Price who was already commanding a plan to get out of there.

Ghost watched after them, missing the comforting weight of you in his arms and finding himself much lighter without you. He wished he had the strength to carry you himself but he could hardly walk forward without stumbling which prompted Soap to wrap his arm around his shoulder.

Soap took most of his weight as they both walked down the hall.

“Johnny.” He weakly said as his vision began to spin, his fingers digging into his shirt.

“I got you L.t.” Soap assured him as he pushed forward.

Ghost suddenly felt too heavy to walk anymore. All of his strength was gone now that he didn’t have to worry about you. You were safe and now he could finally go to sleep. His vision went spotted with black dots before his knees buckled underneath him.

“Ghost!”

~

Ghost woke up with a start. The first thing he noticed was the dull ache he felt all over his body, the brunt of it taken away by what he could only assume were heavy pain meds.

“Morning.” He looked to his right to see Soap sitting on a chair next to his bed with a small smile. “How you feelin’ L.t?”

“Ask me later.” His voice was hoarse and his throat was scratchy, causing Soap to hand him a glass of water with a chuckle.

He drank the water, finding that as soon as it touched his mouth he was incredibly thirsty. He chugged it, finding that even though it wasn’t cold it was the most refreshing thing he had in months.

When he was finished Soap took the glass from him and refilled it from a pitcher that sat on a table next to his bed. He handed the glass back to him and watched with slight worry as he began to chug it again. While he did he looked at the room around them..

He was lying in a hospital bed. The usual hard mattress and uncomfortable blankets were anything but that as he felt himself sink deep into them, finding a safe warmth in them. He was connected to various machines that beeped in tandem with his heart while his body was covered in stitches and sterile white bandages.

His hand was already in a cast and his leg was propped up on a fluffy pillow.

He was in the infirmary back on base. He was safe from harm.

“You're a beast, you know that?” Soap said as he took the glass back when he was finished. “Breakin’ out and running through the base with a bullet in your leg.”

“Had to. If I didn’t, we might’ve died-”

His heart stopped. His eyes searched around the infirmary frantically as he attempted to get out of bed to go look for you but Soap put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

“Easy. She’s okay.” He assured him before he jutted his chin across from him.

Ghost looked over and his gaze softened immediately.

You were sleeping in the bed next to him. You were hooked up to the same machines as him but you were bandaged up a lot more. He watched your chest rise from your steady breathing, finding himself mimicking it as his shoulders relaxed. You looked peaceful and deep in sleep, most likely from copious amounts of pain meds the doctor gave you.

He laid back on the bed, his eyes never leaving you.

“She was in worse condition than you.” Soap began as he eyed you both. “Broken ribs, other bones, major concussion, internal bleeding. Been sleeping ever since we picked you both up.”

Ghost swallowed thickly. He couldn’t even begin to describe the pit that formed in his stomach as he watched you. As much as he wanted to rationalize that the guilt he felt wasn’t warranted, his mind wouldn’t let him get rid of it.

He had almost indirectly killed you. He wouldn’t forgive himself if that had happened.

“How long?” He mumbled and heard Soap let out a deep sigh.

“About a week.” Soap said and he shook his head.

“Fucking hell…”

It had certainly felt longer than a week. Those long hours of torture and the short periods of recuperation between them had felt like an eternity. He remembered how every hour that passed by had been a month. He wouldn’t have been surprised if Soap had told him that, but knowing that so much damage had been inflicted on you both in a matter of a week made the pit in his stomach worse.

He couldn’t imagine how long it felt for you.

The physical toll this was going to take on you would hopefully clear up and not become long term but he knew your mental would most likely take the biggest hit.

“Price is puttin’ both you on leave for a while.” Soap caught his attention and he looked back at him. “He won’t admit it out loud, but he’s worried.”

“Guess that’s expected.” Ghost huffed and shut his eyes for a moment. Even though he knew it was the right call, considering the extent of the injuries you both had suffered, he absolutely hated the idea of having to stay on base, or worse, go back home. He would be forced to take it easy, to not do anything strenuous which meant he would be stuck doing absolutely nothing. It was the perfect opportunity for him to think too much.

He couldn’t hide himself in his work like he normally did. Hell, he probably wouldn’t be able to hide himself in any of the hobbies he had that he rarely participated in.

A heavy sigh left his chest and he rubbed his eyes. He would have to deal with the hell he was going to put himself through, he was used to it, but that didn’t mean it was going to be easy.

“Here.” Soap tossed one of Ghost’s spare masks on his lap. “Figured you might want it.”

Ghost picked up the mask and looked at the black material. It was just one of his simple balaclavas and in any other moment he would’ve put it on so at least he felt some sense of security in the midst of all of this. However when he glanced at you, something in him told him to wait.

“Thanks, Johnny.” He watched as his friend gave him a small smile and patted him on the shoulder.

“Get some rest, L.t.” Soap stood up and pushed the chair out of the way.

Ghost watched him leave before he turned his attention back to you. You were the only thing he really wanted to look at in the infirmary, finding that you distracted him from the annoying beeps of the machines and the sterile walls that surrounded you both.

This wasn’t the first time that Ghost had found himself watching you as you slept.

Most of the time his attention was elsewhere when you both were on missions. He always took first watch on missions that spanned more than one day since he struggled to fall asleep as quickly as you. His eyes would wander to you when nothing in particular was happening and he was immensely intrigued by your ability to seemingly sleep peacefully no matter the situation.

He almost envied you. It took a while for him to take control of his thoughts when he laid down to sleep and yet the moment you shut your eyes you were gone.

Even now you seemed to be the most comfortable he had seen you in a week or even a month.

It was most likely the meds, but that didn’t stop the sense of comfort he felt as your chest rose and fell slowly.

Ghost toyed with the mask in his hand. His eyes bounced around your relaxed face and he let out a soft sigh that made him sink further into the mattress. He wanted to be awake when you woke up, but his eyelids started to get too heavy for him to keep open.

You had that effect on him and you didn’t even know.

In his sick, twisted mind he hoped he had the same effect on you. He hoped that he gave you a similar comfort and safety that you gave him despite the fact that he was a ruthless killer. Even after all he’d done in the enemy’s base, the cold blood murders he committed, he hoped that somehow you were happy to have him around you.

He was sure the moment you woke up he would too. And when he did he would make sure that you knew you were safe.

He always would.

A/N: Part 2? Also this is way longer than I had expected lol

[fun-k-board]

Mortal Kombat 1 Intros with a Spider-Man Reader

Characters included : Johnny Cage, Kung Lao, Kitana, Mileena, Sindel, Syzoth / Reptile.

Notes(s) : There are adult ones, which are either romantic/flirty or platonic. Then teen ones, which are just platonic.

MK1 with a Venom Symbiote Reader here!

Johnny Cage

Adult Reader -

Reader : Cage, you can't be serious.

Johnny : Oh, come on, at least imagine kissing while you're invisible, please.

-

Reader : For the last time, I'm too busy fighting crime to be in your movies.

Johnny : Come on, babe, a cinematic universe with Spider-People? It'll be a hit!

-

Johnny : No, wait, just hear me out, Man-Spider, a Spider gets bitten by a radioactive man!

Reader : I don't know why I talk to you...

-

Johnny : You seriously couldn't have chosen a better suit.

Reader : It's not meant to be sexy, but if it can distract you in this fight I'm all for it.

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Wait, you're serious? I can be in one of your movies?!

Johnny : Sure, kid, anything for an adoring fan.

-

Reader : It's... It's such a dream to meet you, you're so awesome in Ninja Mime, I-

Johnny : Let me guess, you want an autograph?

-

Johnny : So, a radioactive Spider is still out there, making more of you?

Reader : I may have accidentally killed it before I knew...

-

Johnny : Hah, I'm a martial arts superstar, some spider-kid isn't getting the best of me.

Reader : I've defeated men twice the size of you!

-

Kung Lao

Adult Reader -

Reader : Yes, webs come out of my wrists, why?

Kung Lao : Do they come out of... Anywhere else?

-

Reader : I do everything I can to protect the people I love.

Kung Lao : Would I happen to be one of them?

-

Kung Lao : You're always missing our dates...

Reader : I'm sorry, but crime is everywhere and I need to stop it.

-

Kung Lao : You're buying me dinner at Madame Bo's for the incident at Johnny's.

Reader : I didn't mean to activate my electricity in the pool!

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Why would I crawl on Madame Bo's ceiling?

Kung Lao : There's webs up there, they fall down on the food sometimes.

-

Reader : I can't take a break, someone could get hurt-

Kung Lao : You're a kid, this isn't your responsibility.

-

Kung Lao : Ah! You can't sneak up on me like that!

Reader : It's not my fault, I didn't realise I was invisible!

-

Kung Lao : Wait a minute, you're part Spider, but afraid of them?

Reader : Don't say it so loud, someone could hear!

-

Kitana

Adult Reader -

Reader : I don't know, can you handle my electricity?

Kitana : Don't underestimate me, Earthrealmer.

-

Reader : Kitana, I don't understand what you mean?

Kitana : I mean, Earthrealmer, I would love to see what those webs of yours can be used for.

-

Kitana : That magic you possess, it's incredible!

Reader : I got bit by a radioactive Spider, it's not magic.

-

Kitana : Stop turning invisible around the palace, it's making Mileena suspicious.

Reader : I can't help it, it happens when I relax!

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Once a great man told me that with great power comes great responsibility

Kitana : He must've meant a lot to you

-

Reader : I'll zap you if you get too close!

Kitana : Ha, are all Earthrealmers so immature?

-

Kitana : I doubt you'll best me in Kombat.

Reader : Just know that you'll never live it down when I do.

-

Kitana : I can't believe my mother thinks so lowly of you, you're only a child.

Reader : You'd be surprised.

-

Mileena

Adult Reader -

Reader : I don't think your sister likes me much...

Mileena : It's because you keep crawling on the ceilings.

-

Reader : I'm sorry for electrocuting you.

Mileena : I was under the effects of my affliction, you were only defending yourself.

-

Mileena : You're awfully close to that Earthrealm girl.

Reader : Gwen's just a friend, Mileena.

-

Mileena : That's a cute trick you have there.

Reader : What about spider webs are cute??

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Can you train me?

Mileena : Only if you teach me your own moves.

-

Reader : I'm more than capable of fighting!

Mileena : I understand the feeling of being underestimated, Earthrealmer.

-

Mileena : Your abilities are useful in Kombat.

Reader : I want to protect anybody who can't match them.

-

Mileena : Never go invisible during an Outworld dinner again.

Reader : I'm sorry, I got nervous!

-

Sindel

Adult Reader -

Reader : I apologise for accidentally using my powers last night...

Sindel : Don't be, dear, it was an interesting experience.

-

Reader : With great power, comes great responsibility.

Sindel : Inspiring words, I trust you to live up to them.

-

Sindel : Your abilities are promising, let's hope you put them to good use.

Reader : I'll do my best, I always try to.

-

Sindel : I never thought I'd feel this way again...

Reader : What? I don't understand, Empress.

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Oh, come on! It's so fun to swing around!

Sindel : It's childish at best, Earthrealmer

-

Reader : You're so level headed...

Sindel : And you're immature.

-

Sindel : Hah! Liu Kang sends a child?

Reader : Will you people stop acting like I'm incompetent?!

-

Sindel : You are a worthy adversary, but far too much of a jester.

Reader : I fight crime flawlessly, I should get to joke once and a while!

-

Syzoth / Reptile

Adult Reader -

Reader : I love you, Syzoth, but I can't stay.

Reptile : I won't fault you for returning to Earthrealm to protect your family.

-

Reader : You want us both to be invisible while we-

Reptile : It was just an idea.

-

Reptile : Our abilities make us challenging adversaries.

Reader : It's only fitting that we come together as one.

-

Reptile : You are always away from me.

Reader : I have responsibilities at home, Syzoth.

-

Teen Reader -

Reader : Woah, you can turn invisible? So can I!

Reptile : But are you as stealthy as me?

-

Reader : Look at me! I'm upside down!

Reptile : I can see that, Earthrealmer.

-

Reptile : You need to stay home, even with your abilities, it's far too dangerous here.

Reader : I can handle this place!

-

Reptile : Just because you can electrocute people, doesn't mean you're prepared to fight Shang Tsung.

Reader : I have to at least try.

[dannyphantom-zero]

Doctor Danny Prompt

Danny Fenton is largely regarded as an ignorant slacker as a result of his schoolwork and study time consistently being interrupted by ghost attacks. Thankfully after Danny is crowned high king of the ghost zone he is able to reign the ghosts in and makes them all swear an oath not to cause trouble, they are still allowed to visit the human world of coarse, some even mask themselves as human and lead ordinary loves even while being dead.

With more time on his hands and little to no ghosts attacks Danny misses the rush he used to get. Then one day a man collapsed in front of him, Danny is able to save the man using CPR and he discovers his new affinity. Medical practice.

Danny goes to college and gets into a hospital as a resident after interning, not long after though the Amity Park hospital closes due to lack of funding and he is forced to find another hospital.

He got a good recommendation from his previous hospital to work at a hospital in Gotham, definitely far from home, but he doesn't let that stop him.

Soon after working there he finds the influx of patients to care for refreshing, he becomes widely known as a genius miracle doctor.

One day he's taking a leisurely walk when he found an injured vigilante, the Red Hood, hes not conscious and therefore unable to give consent for treatment. Danny cares for Red Hoods injuries privately away from a hospital so as to keep the vigilantes identity a secret.

Red Hood is cautious and rude at first, but slowly he learns to open up to the doctor and even get continuously treated by Danny.

Danny is just finishing a shift when he hears about Superman being shot with a kryptonite bullet. Despite using his powers occasionally to treat patients, he's been able to keep his ghost gene a secret.

However that's about to change. He arrives on the seen and pushes his way through the police using a bit of his powers discreetly to get through.

The heroes aren't sure what to do.

"My name's Daniel Fenton, I am an attending physician at Gotham General Hospital, I specialize in supernatural anatomy, Cardiology and Endocrinology"

"All due respect doctor, his skin is impenetrable, you won't be able to operate on him"

Danny kept a cool face.

"That would be true for a normal human, I can't explain right now, every moment we wait is time we could be using to save the patient"

Danny used his ghost powers to see inside Superman body.

Several heroes gasped as they witnessed the doctors eyes turn a glowing green and then his arm became transparent. Danny stick his hand on Superman chest and pulled out the bullet.

As soon as the bullet was out Superman's skin began healing and restoring itself.

Danny let out a breath of relief before letting the superheroes escort him to the hall of justice where they sat with him.

"I would like to begin with we all can't thank you enough Dr" Batman said.

"wow, Mr tall dark and broody is being nice" flash whispered.

"Yes but I'm sure you still have questions for me."

Several heads nodded.

"are you of an alien race?"

Danny chuckled.

"No, nothing like that. My parents were scientists who were obsessed with the study of the paranormal, specifically ghosts. When I was young, around the age of fourteen I would say, my friends convinced me to go inside the newly constructed portal shell that my parents had tested earlier that day."

He paused waiting for them to take in his words before continuing.

"It had failed to operate then so I went in thinking it was safe. I was wrong. My parents had unknowingly instilled the charge to start the portal on the inside of the shell. I didn't know it was even there until I tripped on some tangled exposed wire and my hand pressed it"

"did it hurt?" Flash asked. He got a few dirty looks for that question but Danny just gave him a friendly smile.

"in a word, yes. It was excruciating. I was electrocuted for a half a minute. On top of that I had accidentally started the charge to the portal shell while being inside. This caused an outside substance called ectoplasm to enter my DNA sequence permanently changing it"

"ectoplasm" Batman muttered.

"in simpler terms, I'm half ghost."

"That's not possible! You would have to be half dead to be-" Flashs words were silenced with a swift smack to the back of the head by wonder women.

"Yes, I am technically half dead. I had to battle these ghost entities for a while to make sure they didn't wreck havoc in the small town o grew up in."

"Forgive me, but of that's true why aren't you there now"

Danny chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck a little nervous of their soon to be reactions.

"After I was forced to defeat the current ghost king and put him back onto the sarcophagus of forever sleep, the title became mine. I gained respect and control over the ghosts who were causing trouble amd was able to make them stop"

"Your a king" Batman stated.

"i don't refer to myself as such, on truth many ghosts helped imprison the old king, I received the title on a technicality."

He looked down at his hands.

"after the peace had settled in I had begun to feel as though a part of me was missing so I took up the career I have currently."

He smiled at them sweetly as he explained.

"My battle instincts help me when I'm in a crisis situation with a critical patient. With my powers I can calm them and safely restrain them if need be. As you saw today I can also better treat meta humans and alien races with these abilities as well"

"you went from being a hero to being a doctor, that's commendable"

Danny shook his head.

"Not really. I'm doing a selfless thing for selfish reasons"

The league smiled upon him. From then on he was world renowned for his worldly expertise and protected.

Should I make this into a whole fanfiction or not? Because I want to go into more detail but I want to know what you all think first.

[hotpinkstars]

little boothill drabble since i got too sick to post anything this week and i love this man so much

imagine braiding that mans hair. for being a cyborg, his hair looks real damn soft, and the first time you felt it, you were in shock. how does he manage to keep it that nice for not being able to bathe like a normal person? if you were to throw that man in a wet setting, he'd short-circut and probably electrocute everyone around him (electrical wires..... and water..... not a great pair).

"babe, can i pleaseeeee braid your hair? it'll only be a small part!" you asked once more, hearing him chuckle before pressing a kiss to your temple. once you heard him say yes, you immediately went to work. his hair felt like a cloud, and you wish you could cuddle yourself into it, into him, and sleep the days away. but, thats simply impossible.

you take a little strand on the side of his head and get to work, braiding it slowly and neatly. you tried to do a little french braid, taking peices from the top (in which he teasingly complained that it hurt) working your way to the bottom. you felt his cold metal back lean into your chest, for you were propped up on the headboard of the bed and allowed him to cuddle into you.

once you finished, you tossed it in front of him, and he grabbed it to investigate. he nodded, turning around to face you.

"i like this. maybe you should do it a lil' more often."

[a-leg-without-fear]

Flooded Red (pt.2) 🩸🌧️

get ready for some ANGST babes

Ship: Logan Howlett x Mutant!Fem!Reader 🩸

Rating: 16+

Wordcount: 2.3k

Warnings: torture, experimentation, gore, violence, cursing, electrocuting, drugging, mind control, medical equipment, implied child endangerment, ANGST

Series: Flooded Red

Groggy. You felt groggy. Tendrils of fog clouded around the edges of your mind. Swirling amongst the slow thoughts that had gathered, blurring words and images. Flashes of red, hot blood and bright lights shot through your dazed mind. A dull ache gathered at the base of your skull.

The next thing that registered was the biting cold of the metal table beneath you. Chills shook along your sore spine. You tried to adjust your cramped muscles, tried to stretch out your stiff joints.

But you couldn’t.

Your hands were fully encompassed in metal spheres. Thick iron wrapped around your wrists and encasing your fingers. You pulled at the restraints, desperation leaking into your veins. Rough metal chafed along the skin at your wrists. Rubbing and scratching and leaving the flesh raw.

Panic gripped at your racing heart. Your eyes flew open to gauge your situation. All you could see was black. Like someone had left the lights off in the middle of the night. Your gaze darted around in the darkness. Searching for something, anything. 

You couldn’t breathe. Terror spilled into the edges of your mind like ink in water. Sharp talons raked through any coherent thoughts still bouncing around in your head. Primal fear choked you. You pulled and squirmed, a wild animal struggling to be free.

Latex gloves smoothed down your bare arm. The powdered rubber pulled at your skin as thin fingers prodded at the inside of your elbow. Like five daggers stabbing into you and spurring on the feral beast clawing at your throat.

Your consciousness slipped beneath the appalling gloves, mind tracing along the miniscule veins running under twitching skin. You followed the veins through this attacker’s arm. The pointed taste of norepinephrine and acetylcholine coated your tongue. This person was focused, relaxed.

You zeroed-in on the flow of acetylcholine through this person’s veins. Tracing the chemical back to its source. The hypothalamus. That small, ever important part in the center of one’s brain. The main coordinator of the nervous system and bodily cravings.

Like squishing a grape between your fingers, you crushed this person’s hypothalamus with a single thought. You could taste fresh blood leaking into the air, the coppery scent filling your sinuses and satiating the gnawing dread in your gut. The gloves running along your skin disappeared.

Pride licked up your throat, satisfaction seeping into your pores at the absence of latex on your skin.

Torturous electric pulses zipped along your skin. Shocks emanating from the metal table below you and the iron clasped on your hands. Excruciating lightning coursed through your body and made your back arch. Your arms tugged at their restraints, legs scrambling for leverage, head shaking back and forth.

As instantaneous as the shocks had started, the pain ceased. Gulping breaths filled your strained lungs. Sparks of the remaining electricity under your skin made you wince.

“Let’s not kill the techs, shall we? Each corpse garners a mountain of paperwork and a devastated family.”

Your unseeing eyes searched in the void for the source of the voice. It sounded familiar, masculine. A slight southern drawl laced in each word.

“There we are. Calmed down?” 

Recognition hit you in the chest like a freight train. Your lips curled, a feral snarl seeping through your bared teeth.

“You,” you growled, malice and pure hatred filled your mind like sand in an hourglass. This man attacked your home. Hurt your kids. Threatened your Logan. Anger like you had never known washed over you like a raging inferno.

“Yes, me. Now that we are familiar, are we in agreement?” he asked. His voice was loud, projected, crackling. Like it came from a large speaker somewhere to your right. 

“Fuck you,” you hissed. You tugged furiously at your restraints. Bestial rage burned away at all cognition. Flames scorched your mind and sent you into a fucking frenzy. Your teeth gnashed, chest heaved, muscles tightened.

“And here I was, thinking you’d be more cordial than the Wolverine. No matter. Nothing a little behavioral management won’t solve.”

Your body jolted as electricity streaked through your bones. You cried out, jaw clenching and fists tightening in their iron coffins.

This round of electrocution was blessedly short. You heaved, stomach lurching and heart thumping rapidly behind your ribcage, when the shocks had stopped.

“Are. We. In. Agreement?” the man asked again, annunciating every word. You panted, skin glistening in sweat, throat constricting and nearly choking you. The man sighed, “Bleeder, I’ll need an answer. Will you kill any more of my employees?”

You snarled at your old moniker, then thunked your head down on the table in defeat, “No.”

“Good. Now, since that’s settled, I’m going to have Maria draw your blood. Do your best to refrain from killing her. She has two sons at home.”

Powdered latex rubbed at your elbow again. You gritted your teeth, molars grinding against one another, as you tried to restrain the whirling rage inside you. Shaking fingers felt along your skin. Pressing deep into the flesh now and then, looking for that prominent vein that ran through the crook of your arm.

Cool liquid brushed across your skin. A smooth cloth doused in alcohol rubbing and sanitizing your arm. The acrid scent filled your sinuses, making you flinch. Every nerve ending in your body was ringing alarms. Constant fear flooded your mind as the seconds ticked by.

A tight pinch pierced your skin and you nearly went back on your word. Almost lashing out like a cornered, rabid animal. The needle pushed under your skin and settled in your vein. Foreign, metal, cold, bad. It shouldn’t be in your arm. You should remove it, kill whoever stuck it in you.

No. This wasn’t you. You didn’t mindlessly kill people. No matter how angry you were, you would always try to find a solution. Pushing down your own feelings for the sake of peace. The fiery hatred burning inside was a feeling you often tried to ignore, tried to suppress, if not for you then for those you cared about.

Memories floated through your mind like leaves on the surface of a pond. Logan laughing at something stupid you said, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Charles giving you a scathing review of a book he’d recently read. Jean and Scott cuddled together, tucked away behind a corner in the foyer.

Your friends. Your colleagues. Your family.

A trembling breath passed between your lips. The feral rage churning inside you had simmered down to a low heat. Just barely warming the edges of your mind in anger. You swallowed a grief-covered lump that had gathered in your throat.

~~~~

Colonel William Stryker watched your blood being drawn with mild curiosity. Like watching an animal in a vet’s office have their blood work done. You were restrained, arms bound and eyes covered, with a terrified Maria standing over you. Her trembling hands clutched at your arm as the red liquid flowed through the rubber tube.

A thick pane of glass separated William from you. Elevated by at least a story, Stryker stood in the observation deck. He adjusted how his dark jacket fell across his midriff. Bright lights hanging from the ceiling reflected white circles on his glasses. 

The control panel sitting before him glowed and quietly hummed. Switches connected to the electric interface of your restraints. Red button to shock you, blue button to sedate you, green button to release you. Ingenious design, if you asked him.

Sharp heels clicked on the concrete floor next to him. Yuriko, black suited and hair slicked back, moved to stand next to William. Her hands were clutched behind her back, chrome nails just barely shimmering in the light. Silver eyes looked between William and your writhing body below.

“Is Xavier ready?” he asked, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. Yuriko, ever the silent one, gave him a quick nod. William took one last glance down at you, a spot of pity bubbling in his stomach, then turned away from the glass.

Soldiers with varying degrees of combat armor and armaments lined the halls of the dam. Each giving William a polite nod as the colonel breezed past. Stryker barely acknowledged the formal greetings, periphery only just catching glimpses of their faces. They were unimportant.

A hiss sprouted from the metal door as it slid open. Chrome, unpolished, with a clouded window near the top. He grimaced in disgust. Everything in this accursed dam was filthy. Not a place for a man of his repute to continue his work, and certainly not structurally sound enough to house the several mutants he now possessed.

The room he stepped into was much like every other room in the Alkali Lake Dam. Concrete entombing him on all sides, bright lights hanging from the ceiling, spots of equipment and machinery placed near the doors for easy access.

Green light glowed from sconces set low on the curved walls. Wires and tools suspended from the ceiling hung in alcoves like swinging corpses. A steel table and chair sat in front of one of those alcoves. Stryker moved to the table, double checking his pen was still in his breast pocket, then turned to face the current object of his desire.

Charles Francis Xavier. In all of his bald, old, crippled glory. His posh blue suit and silk gold tie reflected the white spotlight directed at him. A chrome device sat on the mutant’s wrinkled brow. Steel, magnetization, and electricity working together to cage his mind inside that thick skull of his.

Stryker chuckled under his breath at the sight. The great Professor X. All powerful telepath who could control the entire world with a single thought. Reduced to a hunched man in a wheelchair.

Xavier stirred, head beginning to raise from its lowered position. Stryker kept an air of indifference on his face while clutching at the pen in his jacket. When the mutant’s eyes met the colonel’s, William threw the professor a proud smile. Understanding passed through Xavier’s perplexed expression.

“William…”

“Please, Xavier, don’t get up,” Stryker said, cutting the mutant off. A chuckle threatened to leave his chest at his own quip.

Quiet whirring surrounded Xavier as the man folded in on himself. Eyes squeezing shut, shoulders twitching. 

“I call it the neural inhibitor,” William explained. He watched the mutant struggle under the steel cap, then continued while tapping his forehead, “It keeps you out of here.”

The whirring stopped as Xavier’s eyes opened. Beady blues took in the space around the cripple. Wrists bound in leather straps, suit roughed up at the edges, Stryker and Yuriko standing before him.

“What have you done with Scott?” Xavier asked, voice thin and edged in pain.

“Don’t worry. I’m just giving him a little re-education. Him and that little pet project of yours,” Stryker replied. Xavier tensed in the seat of his wheelchair.

“You don’t mean-”

“Why yes, I do. The little weapon of mass destruction y’all have taken to calling ‘Vampire,’” William said with undeniable confidence. He leaned back on the concrete wall next to him as he said, “Of course, we both know she’ll never truly leave behind her old name. What was it?”

“William-”

“No, that’s not it. ‘Bleeder.’ Yeah, that’s the one,” Stryker mused. Xavier’s jaw clenched, withered hands curling into fists. The mutant eyed the colonel with sparking anger burning in his blue eyes.

“She hasn’t used that calling card in quite some time,” Xavier said slowly, voice coming out measured and restrained. Stryker huffed an incredulous laugh.

“Just because the lion is trapped in a zoo doesn’t change its nature. Savagery can’t be swayed by giving the lion a cushy home and ample playmates. Sooner or later, professor, she will snap again. And from the way she mosied up to me in that mansion of yours, I’d say she’s one breath away from tearing the whole country to pieces.”

~~~~

Logan silently followed the group of teenagers in front of him up the driveway. Early morning sun rippled through the trees and onto Bobby’s family home. Gentle breezes made the grass sway, the sounds of cars starting down the road echoed across damp asphalt, freshly-mowed grass a few doors down floated through the air.

His mind was a fucking hurricane. Spinning and twisting and raging to where it was hard to tell which way was up. Glimpses of the events from the night before rolled through his head like peals of thunder.

You were gone. You were right fucking in front of him, scared eyes meeting his, and then you were gone. Obscured by the frosted blue ice Bobby had conjured. Logan had pounded on that ice until his hands bled, desperate to reach you, desperate to see your eyes again, desperate to get you away from that man.

Stryker.

Wrath boiled in his chest when the name crossed his mind. Logan had no memory to connect to the name, no instance of ill-intent, nothing that would link this deep-seated hatred.

Well, other than the fact that the guy had raided the fucking mansion and took you from Logan. Severed from his life like a missing limb.

He barely registered the climb up the front porch steps. Nor the conversation passing between Rogue, John, and Bobby. Logan’s mind swirled with the agony of losing you, the confusion surrounding this whole scenario, the unbridled fury licking at that primal part of his mind.

His hand subconsciously slipped the front door shut behind his group. White-suburban walls and decorations hit Logan’s downturned vision like he’d wandered into a Target. He brushed away his racing thoughts to verify that the door was locked.

Logan would get you back. He’d stop Stryker, free the kidnapped mutants, and get you back. Even if he had to climb fucking Mount Everest. He wouldn’t rest until you were safe, held against his chest and tucked under the covers in your bed.

thoughts? comments? concerns? theories? let me know!!!

leg's taglist: @hazydespair @spideybv28 @fantasticalartist @autisticnutcase @captainwans @ayamenimthiriel @tsukiko26 @up-l4te-4t-n1ght

[honey-minded-hivemind]

OH MY GOD imagine platonic yandere adults, find out that the reader is their biological child somehow. Maybe from one of the scientists while doing some test and yans find out they need all of there reactions, especally if Wanda and peitro find out they have another sibling.

Ooooooh, yes! Yeah, that WOULD make things different. Because now the adult/s in question feel more attached (or entitled) to Reader, especially if they were someone who turned out very different from them (as in, saner and maybe a bit nicer)...

If it was Magneto who was Reader's biological parent, surprise, he's now doubling his efforts to free himself, his kids, Charles, and the rest of them out. And those who harmed his kids? They'll be dead when he's done with them. Of course, he is going to try and get closer to Reader, attempt to tell them what he now knows. Hopefully they believe him...

If Charles Xavier is Reader's biological parent, oh, what's this? A few guards mysteriously ended up in a coma? Oh, some head scientist who saw him went insane? That's nothing to worry about, but let's talk, try to calm down, and enjoy a bit of peace, shall we? Yeah, Xavier is ready to keep Reader safe, be it by incapacitating their abusers or simply helping calm his kid down. He wants to badly tell them their relation, but he's aware that it might not be a good time. But on the other hand, he doesn't know how long any of them have...

If Logan is Reader's biological parent, he's scared. He doesn't want them to get hurt, and he doesn't want them to be used as a weapon. He also doesn't want to hurt them. But he also wants to be close to them, wants to protect them. He's worried even more, because they could get hurt just for being related to him. He feels like he can be a bit more feral around them if he's their parent, because it's just as likely they're feral, too, and neither one of them would hurt the other when they're like that, would they? He'll be by their side as long as he can, and he'll try his best to keep them safe. He just hopes Reader survives long enough so they can escape...

If Victor was Reader's biological parent, he's ready to break out even sooner. He has a cub? And they're hurt? And they're sweet? And they're his blood? Ooooooooh, he's going to be goring those lab rats when he's free. He can share his kid with Jimmy, Logan, his runt, but the others? ... He'll think about it. He gets more possessive of them, more protective. If Reader is his by blood, then he feels he should have a say in how they handle them... And he won't hurt them, he'll try not to, but they shouldn't run if he goes to collect them. They don't need to be scared of their papa, right? He's keeping them safe, getting rid of their enemies and freeing their friends and uncle...

If Ororo was Reader's biological parent, she'd be very loving and motherly towards them. She'd happily accept them, and she'd be happy to take care of them. She's sorry they're in this situation, and wishes they could have found this all out some other way, but she hopes that they can move past their trauma and heal together, along with Evan and their friends. She will be electrocuting anyone who lays hands on them, and will be keeping Reader close once they've all escaped. She just has to break the news to them first, that they are related... Hopefully it won't make things worse, finding out about all of this...

Mystique would feel happy about it. One of her kids actually likes her? And this child is friends were her other two children? It's perfect! Perhaps she can finally reconnect with them, the way she's wanted to for a long time. She however hates that they're all stuck in this death trap of a place. She'll get rid of the ones who did this to them, and then they can all go home. She has to do this. If not, she could very well lose them all before they've got the chance to leave. She just hopes she can tell Reader about this newfound information next time she sees them...

Hank would enjoy knowing this, while also being bewildered. He, has a child? Him? When did this happen? And with who? Where? Why? It doesn't matter, he supposes. It just matters that he tells them, eventually. And that they survive, and get out. He knows his team, his family, will accept Reader, they already do, so knowing Reader is his kid will only make him more able to have a claim over them, to truly parent them. He already has ideas, and he's so ready to be done with this awful place. All they have to do is make it awhile longer, and it will only be a bad memory...

(I'd gladly discuss each possible parent option further, but I myself like any of the feral guys as possible parents for Reader. What can I say? They're my comfort characters! But I would find it fun if Reader were someone's hidden kid/clone... What do y'all have in mind over this?)

[sillyzel]

✨The Amazing Digital Circus Hunters AU

The players in the circus are playing Caine’s game, “HUNTINGG” or maybe, uh, they’re like bounty hunters with powers..

Each player has unique abilities and can be used when they’re “hunting” for stuff in Caine’s game! Just-, Just that, simply.

(More under the cut)

Each of the players have unique abilities. Or, yeah, weapons. They use the weapons to help hunt stuff, of course. OR to KILL stuff. Players are kill-able but will respawn. Cuz, why not? If you’re an NPC, maybe you might just, die, yeah, die.

What are they hunting for?? Duh, it’s like, for ranks or smth. Higher u rank, more powerful u become, but when u get killed by anyone, well u gotta start over again. Who knows what u can achieve if u keep that first place…

OK!1!1!1 MORE ABOUT THE PLAEYRSZSZ

Pomni - Police… with a sword.

Pomni is… yeah, that. Why? Bubble just thinks it’s cool. Yeah, she does have a gun too. Pomni’s sword can get longer and shorter, but it is limited. Sword can electrocute some bozos, but needs charging after 5 uses of electro-power thing blah blah. Gun? Normal police gun.

Ragatha - Bare hand fighter, most of the time.

She is, a bare hand fighter. KICK AND PUNCH, yeahhhhh, but uses the spear sometimes. She keeps about 3 spears in her back. Rather than using the pointy part, She usually uses the wooden part more. Pointy stuff has poison. It stings and it hurts making the area that got cut/stabbed with that feel numb. Possible cramps, ig…

Gangle - Chainy chainy stuff with a slim cutter on it’s end.

Gangle’s… weapon, can cut OFF your limbs… BUT that’s rare! Only if she did it right. Usually only cuts deep… nvm, it depends if she is using it the riiiight way! The chain can go longer, with limit, of course! Making the chain go shorter takes more time.

Zooble - FIRE STAFF MUAHAHAHHA 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Zooble. I can say Zooble is like, an alchemist? Only if it’s fire-related. Basically, ya know, Staff with fire magic. BUTTT staff might lost its control sometimes. Zooble can use the staff, whenever. There’s always a “water-looking” bottle attached to the stuff. That thing is minimizing the chances of the staff to lose control. Also minimizes the fire a bit. Zooble can take it off, for about 20 minutes while using it. More than that, it burns the whole tent.

Jax - PEW PEW guns

Some sick guns. Yeaaahhh let’s goooo!1!1! 2 small guns and 1 big gun. 3 in total. The two smaller guns work differently. One works very fast and shoots 3 bullets at one click. One just shoots one per click, doesn’t deal much damage, but will make the enemy feel not-so-good and pass out, sometimes. Big gun? Fast, big bullet. Uses are limited. Only 3 times a day.

Kinger - DARK MAGIC GUY?!?!?

Exorcist? Dark magic? Whatever. Magic book. Yeah, he uses magic book to make and control magic. Just like Zooble, Kinger’s weapon can lose control too. Rarely. Magic book has no limits. The magic just- won’t work well if it’s closed. Quite hard to keep it open, y know.

BONUS - Links Abt this thing yes.

I have a feeling it’s not gonna be so “noticed” by other people, but I enjoyed making it while boredom.

[darin-nidk]

Family dynamic. | Vox's sibling!Reader.

Content: Implicit imposter syndrome, subtle hints of depression. General description of S.Reader's relationship with The Vee's.

A/N: Probably the last thing you'll see of this particular reader unless I get requests for potential relationships with other Hazbin hotel characters.

Frankly, Hell wasn't exactly what you had in mind, if anything, this particular ring of Hell was like Earth with extra steps and fancier titles: people (read: sinners) still got killed, sometimes there was a transactional reason behind, sometimes just because ; consent was also a bit of a myth here too ; politics? Not exactly. Religion? Uh, duh — after all, the fancy titles previously mentioned were: Archangels, Seraphims, Angels, Sinners and Hellborns (was Adam his own category? His title was First Man and, according to some sources, he had self-proclaimed as Dickmaster or the original dick).

The only upside thus far was that your physical form was kind of cool (literally, a humanoid robot so... an android that had to regulate its body temperature to not overheat), no bones ached, no muscles hurt and you couldn't get sick (a virus, maybe...?) plus your cult leader brother was, to no one's surprise, a cult leader! With the power of hypnosis which, in retrospective, was kind of like his gig back on Earth with manipulation skills that had been perfectly crafted and mastered throughout years and years of studying the human psique and emotions.

The TV head was... new. Unexpected, certainly hilarious even if the context was gruesome to an extent. It made sense, same goes with you: the right-hand, the prophet of this newfound god. Although your form was different since you died electrocuted because of a faulty electrical connection.

Ah yes, what is there to do in Hell..? The Radio Demon had gone missing as well as Lilith, part of you heavily believes that those two separate events are, in fact, connected despite the lack of evidence. A hunch though without something to back it up, you kept quiet — after all, you weren't a big mastermind, though you did enjoy chaos and creating a ridiculous amount of back-up plans in case something went terribly wrong. Cautious? Anxious? Oh, yeah. Your stubborn egotistical brother was careless when going through his many power-trips or when his rage made his (seemingly) perfect persona crack, hence why you just had to have ways to ammend any and all mistakes. Problems made you uneasy, utterly sick — gotta fix 'em, gotta have potential solution for every possible scenario no matter how insane they could be. You never know! You have to know, a sense of being capable of choosing, to own something, just about any single aspect of your life just had to be yours to control.

Nonetheless... Hell, huh. What to do? Unlike Vox, your powers were quite limited and served as support for his, rinse and repeat a life on that one. Besides that, you weren't an official Vee member, more like an honorary one — and thanks to you being a charmer, a problem solver (people-pleaser) and overall someone who rather live comfortably, well... You started babysitting looking after Valentino whenever Vox was too busy (read: didn't want to put up with his bullshit) and this lead to uhhh, unwillingly being dragged to his studio. The porn actors loved you, which made Valentino hate you but also love you as well because "motherfuckers are more willing to cooperate when there's una cara bonita como la tuya around these parts" while squeezing your 'cheeks' (screen). Yeah, you didn't get why Vox wanted this mothman carnally, though his voice was podcast material, the accent? Delicious.

Now when it came to the backbone of The Vee's, it was a trickier situation — mostly due to not having an actual reason to interact with Velvette. Sure, you guys exchanged texts like roasting Vox and Valentino, gossip, some blackmail material... Memes, selfies, the very basic. Being physically in the same room was comfortable, pleasant silences while sitting next to each other and showing funny videos from your respective devices ; or sharing private conversations that were hilarious with or without context, that's for sure! Oh and, let's not forget that this fashionista icon and unforgiving social manager will absolutely roast you if you are dressed like last century. Still, she was kind to you and, in return, you behaved the same way — work collegues, or flatmates would be a way to describe how you two got along.

If you like my stories, consider donating to my Ko-Fi! Even cents are plenty of help!

Y si hablas español, 'tonces no seas garca y dame $2 para honrar el billete que no esta en circulación y que ni siquiera es de colección a mi MP .

[valentinoappreciator]

Vox / female reader / Valentino smut

Sooooo... that "Vox hypnotizes me" post? Yeah, I made it into a fic. Sue me 😎

Media: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox / female reader / Valentino + Vox / Valentino + onesided Vox / Alastor

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: none apply, everything is consensual

Tags (among others): threesome, hypnotism, electrocution, erotic electrostimulation, multiple orgasms

Where else to read: AO3, username: TheWeirdDane, title: A Shocking Outcome

Enjoy the filth, my lovelies <3

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

You had a feeling you were being obnoxious. Again. Vox wouldn’t say it, but you could hear it in the way that Valentino sighed louder and more often behind you.

“For fuck’s sake, Vox!” he suddenly exclaimed, making you jump and look at him. You couldn’t help a smirk; you would never admit it, but you secretly loved riling up Valentino when he couldn’t touch you. Vox would never allow him to hurt you. 

“Can you keep your fucking pet in line?” he growled, taking a deep drag of his cigarette, a deep scowl on his face. 

“Oh, but I’m hardly doing anything, Mister Valentino, sir,” you giggled and blew him a kiss before focusing on Vox again. You kissed the side of his monitor, wrapping your arms around his neck. Valentino cursed. Vox was quiet, furiously tapping away at his keyboards. That is, until he abruptly turned in his chair, looking straight at you. You swallowed hard, for the first time in a while feeling a slight current of fear going through you. 

A step back wasn’t permitted, because suddenly, Vox stood up, towering above you, with a hand clutching your dress. 

“I think,” he said slowly, “that Val is right. You’re not behaving properly, now, are you?”

Your mouth opened and closed several times. Your eyes widened. 

“Perhaps I should let my... business partner have some fun with you.”

“Vox, please, I didn’t mean---”

“What you meant,” he barked, interrupting you, “is irrelevant. You’re being a brat. We can’t have that attitude around here.”

His eyes glanced towards Valentino, and you shivered when he got up, the couch creaking slightly. He quickly closed the distance between you, all four hands grabbing you. 

“Vox, please, I---” you tried again, but were silenced by a sharp click of Valentino’s tongue. 

“Let your owner speak, darlin’.”

You bristled. 

“He’s not my owner, you sleazy piece of---”

“Ah-ah, that’s quite enough of that, my dear,” Vox said and let go of your dress. Valentino had a firm grasp of you with all hands, so you couldn’t move away. “He’s right. I think you need a... little break. Don’t you agree? It’s so hard being my assistant, after all.”

His claws caressed your chin, making you shiver. 

“I know I’m a tough boss, but you’re always doing so well for me. Actually, I think you deserve a break.” He grinned widely, and his red eyes began pulsing slightly. As you looked at him, a big black spiral inside his eye moved through it, in an... oddly comforting rhythm. It pulsed rhythmically. 

“Listen very carefully,” he purred. You nodded, staring at the slowly moving black circle. It was somehow very soothing. As you looked at it, all worries seemed to ebb away. 

“You’re being so good for me. But tonight, you’ll be good for Valentino and I, won’t you?”

You blinked a few times, then frowned slightly. 

“Vox, what do you---”

“He said listen, honey,” Valentino purred into your ear, two hands on your shoulders, and the other two on your hips. 

When Vox spoke again, his voice was lower and more staticky. The black ring still moved through his eye, a tad faster now. You were transfixed. 

“You’ll do whatever Val asks of you. No matter how deranged or depraved. Because I know you’ll be into it. You won’t be able to get enough. Isn’t that right, baby?”

“Yes, Vox,” you mumbled, staring into his eyes. The longer you stared, the heavier you started feeling. You couldn’t believe your legs could carry you, actually. Your eyes were suddenly feeling like curtains of lead. Impossible to keep them open, you wanted to close them, but Vox slapped your cheek gently. 

“Look at me, baby. That’s it. Good girl. We’ll be good to you, and you’ll be good to us. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, Vox,” you mumbled again. The longer you stared into his screen, the more carefree you felt. It felt as if your mind steadily threw out everything with it, until you were left with a pleasant buzzing going through your entire body. 

“What will you do, baby?” 

His voice sounded as if coming from afar. 

“I’ll be good to you and Mister Valentino,” you drawled. 

“That’s right. He’ll fuck you to within an inch of your life, probably, and what will you say?”

You shivered. 

“Thank you, Mister Valentino.”

“That’s right, baby. Now, go on, let Val have his fun. I need to work.”

“Yes, Vox.”

Valentino allowed you to turn around before he grabbed you again, this time to pull you towards his luxurious, spacious couch. 

“Look at you, being so pliant and obedient,” he purred, quickly pulling your underwear down and off of you. You breathed a little harder. “Oh, I’m going to have so much fun with you...”

“I thought you liked it when your girls resisted,” Vox commented. Valentino chuckled darkly. 

“Oh, I do, I relish it. But change can be nice.”

Vox laughed, and Valentino’s grin widened. 

“Now, spread those gorgeous legs, babygirl.” 

You shivered and nodded, parting your legs. It produced a wet, sticky sound that made you blush. 

“Oh? Could it be that you’re already hot and bothered?” Valentino teased. “Already wet for me?”

“Please, Mister Valentino,” you whined. 

“What is it, baby? You can tell daddy what’s wrong.”

You whined louder and looked up into his face. 

“I want you!”

“Aww, come on, baby, I know you can do better than that. Try again.”

A shudder wrecked through you, making Valentino snicker mockingly. 

“Oh, aren’t you just the most adorable little whore this side of Pentagram City? Come on, try again. For daddy.”

You licked your lips with the tip of your tongue, already feeling your pulse pick up pace. 

“Please, daddy, I need your cock inside me!”

Valentino’s grin filled your vision when he leaned down to kiss you. His tongue was long and slimy and prehensile, and it quickly moved to the back of your mouth, slithering into your throat where it got you to gag. Yet, even as your stomach jumped, you moaned and grabbed his face to haul him closer. 

Two of his hands grabbed the couch tightly, the remaining two grabbing your waist. The grip was harsh and made you gasp, before a gurgling sound was pulled from your throat when his tongue started thrusting into your throat. 

Your legs trembled, as did your hands, and you closed your eyes, relishing the whitehot pleasure that sloshed through your veins. A shuddering sigh left your lips when Valentino pulled back, then a soft when of disappointment. 

He cooed.

“Oh, don’t worry, my little darling, I’ll make sure you’ll feel so good. Daddy always treats his girls well, doesn’t he?”

You vaguely registered Vox’s snort, but were too focused on Valentino to really care.

“Yes, daddy,” you whispered. You were so unbearably horny and wet, and it was so unfair that Valentino wasn’t shoving his cock inside you right this second! 

“Please, daddy,” you whined again, seemingly taking Valentino by surprise when you spoke without being prompted to. “I need you, I need your cock inside me! Please, I’ll be so good!” His eyes widened slightly, before the widest grin pulled them into narrow slits. His tongue wriggled past his sharp teeth, slithering over your lips. 

“You sound positively divine when you beg, babydoll. I could get used to that.” 

You arched your back, your cunt practically dripping with need when you spread your legs even wider, uncomfortably so. 

“Oh, but you were not kidding! Look at that pretty, little cunt. You need daddy to fill you so badly, don’t you, hmm?”

“I do!” you almost cried, feeling mortified but impossibly aroused at the same time. 

“Val, don’t you know it’s not polite to leave a woman waiting?”

You blinked, looking towards Vox as his voice drifted across the room. Blinking again, Valentino was suddenly holding a modern, high-tech video camera. This made a cold shiver run down your spine, but the frisson of fear didn’t alleviate the burning need in the pit of your stomach. 

“Oh, Voxxy,” Valentino snickered, pointing the camera at you. “Say hi to your fans, baby.”

You simply mewled, staring into the lens. 

“Eh, good enough. Remember, darling, I could make you a star. You got the makings of a proper movie doll.”

Vox groaned somewhere behind you. 

“Val, it’s not polite to play with your food.”

Valentino laughed. 

“Oh, you’re such a spoilsport. But, if you insist...”

With two hands, he pulled down his black thong to free his cock. You nearly salivated at the sight, knowing it would soon be buried deep inside you. Valentino was able to decipher your expression, because he grinned widely and rubbed the head of his cock against your oh so sensitive cunt. You jerked with a mewl. Valentino hissed softly. 

“That’s right, baby, daddy is going to fuck you so good,” he hissed, pressing lower until his head caught on your hole. Wasting no further time, he shoved himself inside you with a single, rough thrust that had you howling. 

His cock drilled into you, splitting you open, and although you knew it was supposed to hurt, it... didn’t. Not as much as it realistically should have, anyway. No, the pleasure was so much stronger, and made you moan loudly. You grabbed at his coat, throwing your head back against the couch. 

“Daddy!”

Valentino snarled quietly as he continued to push inside, burying himself so deep you swore you could feel his cock in your belly. He throbbed hard, the tightness of your cunt meaning you imagined you could feel all the veins along his shaft. 

“I don’t hear you being so smug now,” Vox snickered. “Is her hole that good, Val?”

“Shut it,” Valentino growled, aiming the camera at your face. 

Then began the real deal. 

He wasted no more time. He pulled back until just the head was still inside you, and then slammed hard forward, pushing all the way inside and pulling a wretched cry from your lips. 

“That’s it, my little bird,” he rasped, “sing for me!”

You howled again, your legs trembling and your hands grasping desperately at the front of his coat. 

“Daddy, please, it--- it feels so good!” 

“Yeah? Does it, doll? Why don’t you tell me about it?” 

You whined loudly, lifting your legs to wrap them around his narrow waist. 

“Harder, daddy, please, fuck me harder!”

He groaned, pushing you hard against the couch before he, indeed, began plowing into you with so much force that the couch began creaking. You cried out, and now the pain was starting to increase, his thrusts so hard it bordered on ruthless. 

“Break the couch, and you buy me a new one.” 

“Fuck off, Vox, unless you wanna join in on the fun,” Valentino snarled. Much to your surprise, you suddenly felt claws in your hair, pulling your head backwards. You opened your eyes just in time to see Vox standing behind you, a wide and ominous smile on his screen. He bent forward and kissed you harshly. His tongue was different from Valentino’s - shorter, thicker, and much more slimy - but it made you moan all the same as it pushed into your mouth. You could barely breathe, and your lungs burned. Every single of your nerve endings seemed to have caught fire as well, making heat surge through you in violent waves. 

You clenched hard around Valentino, and he growled deep in his throat, shoving himself oh so deep inside you. 

You couldn’t speak. You could only make such utterly pathetic sounds as Valentino fucked you and Vox kissed you like their afterlives depended on it. The longer it went on for, a knot appeared in your stomach, winding itself so painfully tight it made you tremble and gasp sharply. One of your hands let go of Valentino, instead reaching behind you, fumbling around for a bit before finding Vox’s coat. You grabbed it tightly. 

“Oh, you really are into this,” he snickered after withdrawing his tongue from your mouth. “Maybe I didn’t even have to hypnotize you.”

“Sh--- shut up,” you managed to croak and opened your eyes to look up at him. 

“Eyes on me, amorcito,” Valentino growled, before straightening up. He grabbed your legs to press them against his chest, not missing a single thrust. The new position made you see stars, especially when Vox’s clawed hand decided to join in. A claw pressed against your clit, and you inhaled sharply, writhing violently. 

You knew, despite the fogginess of your mind, that Vox had a thing for electricity - which made sense - and you knew he wasn’t afraid of taking it out on you. 

Yet, you wanted it so badly! There were no thoughts in your head; only desire. 

So, when Vox sent a slight current of electricity through his claws and into your cunt, you moaned unashamedly, clenching hard around Valentino who also seemed... affected by the sudden spark. 

“Oh, Voxxy,” he purred breathlessly, grinding hard against you. 

The knot in your stomach tightened. 

“Who knew you would want to play with your own assistant, hmm?” 

“You kidding? She’s a fucking goddess, Val!” 

Your heart skipped a beat. Valentino snorted.

“You always were so sentimental. Come ‘ere.”

You looked up at the two Overlords, and couldn’t help a shuddering moan when they kissed. It was messy, and slobby, and so fucking hot. Their tongues pressed against each other, saliva dripping onto your face and chest, making you shudder with arousal. 

“Touch me, Val,” Vox demanded, and Valentino snickered. 

“So bossy, too! But, if you insist.”

Then, Vox grunted, and you saw from the bend of Valentino’s arm that he was jerking off Vox. 

The knot grew ever tighter. Breathing became increasingly difficult. You could only pant and gasp, pleasure crashing over you as an orgasm rapidly approached. 

“Daddy,” you managed to get over your tongue, but he didn’t pay attention to you, aside from fucking you into the couch, of course. 

Another spark of electricity went through your cunt, and that was all it took. 

You cried out hoarsely, your entire body jerking so hard Valentino had to grab you with two hands to force you to stay in place. Your cunt clenched and spasmed hard around Valentino, who in turn growled into Vox’s mouth, who then moaned in that wonderfully staticky way. 

“Yes, fuck yes” they both growled, their voices raspy and deep. 

Feeling you come so hard, Valentino thrust even more violently into you, gripping the camera so tightly it groaned. 

“That’s it, baby,” he hissed, and you had no way of knowing if he was talking to you or to Vox. Either way, it was insanely hot. 

Valentino kept fucking you, and Vox kept electrocuting you, until yet another orgasm swept through you, not even half a minute after the first one. You gasped sharply, fairly certain that your nails were cutting holes in their coats. But if they did, neither Vox nor Valentino admonished her. Not yet, anyway. 

When Valentino finally reached his own end, he flooded your cunt with his warm, sticky cum with a thunderous growl, and you arched your back, breathing rapidly. 

“Thank you, daddy,” you whined, “thank you!”

“Good doll,” he rasped.

There was a soft ‘beep’, and he tossed the camera to the couch. Pulling out of you with a filthy sound, his cum immediately began dripping from your gaping hole. You shuddered and blushed, closing your trembling legs and turning your head to look after him. 

Turned out, he went behind the couch, grabbing Vox by the waist. Soon enough, Vox was naked, and moaning hard and loud when Valentino was fucking him as well. You didn’t know how in Hell Valentino could already be hard and ready to go again, but then again; he was the Overlord of sex, drugs, and depravity, so it shouldn’t really surprise you. 

Breathing hard, you sat on your knees on the couch, watching the show with half-lidded eyes. 

Suddenly, Vox grabbed your chin, and he kissed you rather harshly. Each thrust from Valentino was followed by a grunt into your mouth. 

“Oh, come now, Voxxy,” Valentino teased, “are you really that head over heels for your own assistant?”

“Fuck off,” Vox groaned. 

“Just sayin’, the two of you would do nicely together in a movie.”

The thought made a shiver run down your spine, and you mewled softly, much to Vox’s and Valentino’s amusement; they both snickered, although Vox’s sounded rather labored. 

“Haven’t had enough, hmm?” Valentino cooed. You blushed fiercely, averting your eyes. “Don’t worry, darling, you can watch. I won’t charge you. Not this time.”

Vox hissed, and the kiss turned messy. Saliva dripped down your chin. 

“That’s it, Val, right there, that’s so fucking good!” 

Valentino chuckled darkly, and sunk his sharp teeth into Vox’s slim neck, sending sparks flying everywhere and making Vox moan loudly. 

In a moment of boldness, a moment where you weren’t sure you were still under Vox’s influence, you decided to join in. 

“Come on, sir, won’t you come for him?” you whispered against his screen. “Come for us?”

Vox’s claws tightened on your chin, pulling your lower lip down, and Valentino visibly shuddered. 

“You dare talk to your boss like that? My my, you’re a brave one...”

You blushed and moaned when Vox shoved his tongue into your mouth, and you couldn’t help but caress the side of his screen. 

“Don’t cause a power outage, Voxxy,” Valentino teased when Vox’s entire body went rigid. “We all know you’re so close, so why don’t you just let go?”

He groaned loudly, trembling all over.

“Come on, sir, we know you want to,” you chimed in, your tongue pressing against his. 

With a loud crackling of electricity, Vox groaned, and Valentino snarled, pressing himself flush against his back. 

“That’s it, Voxxy, you feel so fucking good,” he hissed, “milking my cock like that. Who knew you could be so desperate for someone who isn’t the Radio Demon?”

Vox shuddered. 

“Shut the fuck up, asshole,” he growled. Valentino simply laughed, thrusting hard into Vox a few more times before he pushed Valentino enough, albeit rather weakly. However, Valentino obeyed, taking a few steps back from Vox. 

“Now, baby, what do you say?” Vox sighed and straightened, looking down at you. 

The look he sent you made you blush. You fiddled with your fingers.

“Thank you, sir. Thank you, daddy.”

Vox’s claws ran through your hair. It was almost tender. 

“Good girl. Now, go get cleaned up, and don’t interrupt us again. We’re both busy.”

[suzukiblu]

Parasite WIP is so good and I desperately want more of it! I voted for it in the poll and I’m so sad it didn’t win

Friend, I appreciate you asking after it because it really is one of my fucked-up faves that I really need to work on more, so uh . . . have all 4500 words of the prose so far all together, hahaha. Yes, yes I DID reformat this whole thing into Tumblr-friendliness all for you. THAT IS HOW MUCH I APPRECIATE YOUR APPRECIATION, FRIEND. ( so definitely we are gonna need that read-more down there, lol. )

Clark wakes up. 

Clark didn't even know he wasn't awake. 

"Superman," Bruce says with absolute neutrality. He's wearing the cowl. Standing in rubble. Clark is . . . not standing in rubble. 

Laying in rubble. That's what Clark is doing. 

Bruce is looking down at him very, very carefully, and seems . . . reserved. 

Reserved for Bruce, even. 

"What happened?" Clark asks, trying not to concentrate on the little seed of dread that the sight of that reservation invokes in him. He can hear the heartbeats of other League members, here and there in the wreckage of the street around them. Hear civilians and city noise. Hear Lois and Jon, distantly, and Ma and Pa, even more distant. And . . . Kara–both of her–and . . . 

"We'll go with 'electrocution', but I think we can safely say just about anyone else would've been virtually incinerated," Bruce informs him, distracting Clark from his mental rundown of people he's currently worried about. "Or just exploded."

"Ah," Clark says with a grimace. Well, that explains why his head hurts so damn bad, he guesses.

At least it was him, then, and not any "anyone else"s. 

He pushes himself up. Looks around. He . . . isn't sure where they are, exactly, except that it's probably somewhere on Earth and within the continental United States, judging by the architecture and signs he's seeing and the accents and languages he's hearing. 

He has absolutely no idea how they got here, though. The last thing he remembers is . . . 

. . . he's not actually sure what the last thing he remembers is. 

Not a great sign, that.  

Bruce is watching him. Like he's . . . expecting something, almost. Clark would ask, but there's an odd feeling distracting him. Something's . . . off, somehow. 

Missing. 

Bruce's utility belt is a new design, he notes absently. J'onn is down the street a bit and his costume looks a little different too. And Diana . . . 

Diana is over across the way, and her hair is a couple inches longer than he remembers it being. 

Clark would assume he was mistaken, except for the eidetic memory and all. 

"Hm," Clark says. 

"Hm?" Bruce says. He still sounds faultlessly neutral. 

"Trying to figure out if I'm in the right reality. Things look a little off," Clark replies, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes in concentration. No unexpected sounds or scents. No particular feeling of disorientation that can't be accounted for by being apparently electrocuted. No additional pains past the dull pressure in his head or any immediately obvious peculiarities beyond the minor little scattered differences here and there in his teammates. 

But something is–

"I can't hear Kon," Clark realizes abruptly. He doesn't usually especially keep an ear out for the kid, at least not deliberately, but . . . 

Bruce . . . pauses. 

"You can't," he says, very carefully. It doesn't sound like a question. 

It sounds like something, though. 

"I can't," Clark confirms anyway, glancing around again. He still doesn't know where this is. "Where are we, exactly?" 

"What's the date, Kal?" Bruce asks, and Clark's heart sinks. 

He answers the question. 

Bruce's mouth thins. 

Hell, Clark thinks. 

"We're currently in Keystone City," Bruce says, very carefully expressionless. "We've been here for three days. The date you just provided me was a full fourteen months ago. And Kon-El has been MIA for roughly thirteen and a half of those months." 

Hell, Clark thinks, and doesn't let himself process anything past that. 

"We need to get a scan of your brain," Bruce says. "For starters." 

"For starters," Clark agrees tightly. 

Bruce tells Diana they're leaving, then abandons the rubble and takes Clark up to the Watchtower. Clark goes. He doesn't ask what electrocuted him or who's died in the past fourteen months or if there's anything immediately urgent that he should know. Bruce would've already told him, if there was. 

And he thinks he'd choke on the question if he tried, anyway. 

They go to the med bay. There's a total stranger standing in it who smiles at them when they step through the door. 

"Haven't seen you in here in quite a while, Superman," the stranger observes in amusement, tapping a pen against the clipboard in their hands. "You still haven't been in for that checkup I owe you, you know." 

"He doesn't know you," Bruce informs them evenly. The stranger blinks. 

"Sorry?" they say. 

"He was electrocuted," Bruce says. "Now he thinks it's fourteen months ago. We need a brain scan. Immediately." 

"Hell," the stranger says, their eyes widening in alarm. 

Clark gets the brain scan. 

He and Bruce wait in a convenient exam room for the results, which seem to be taking a while. Bruce seems a bit more guarded than usual, which means Clark is standing next to goddamn Fort Knox right now. He sighs to himself. 

"Suppose at this rate I should call and tell Lois and Jon I'll be late for dinner," he jokes wryly as he folds his arms, no real humor in the comment, and Bruce goes very, very still beside him. 

. . . hell. 

They're not dead. He knows they're not dead, he heard their heartbeats before they left for the watchtower, Bruce would've already told him if either of them were–

"They aren't expecting you," Bruce says with absolutely no intonation whatsoever in his voice. "You moved out eight months ago. The divorce is already finalized." 

"Ah," Clark says, very slowly. He doesn't let himself process, again. Not–just, not yet. "What happened?" 

"You left them," Bruce says, and Clark . . . blinks. 

"I left them?!" he demands incredulously. Leaving Lois is one thing, horrible and impossible a thought as it is, but– "Not just–I left them both?!"

"As you explained it to me, you were no longer interested in maintaining the . . . 'persona' of Clark Kent," Bruce replies carefully, looking just past him. "You said you couldn't stand the screaming anymore. That you appreciated us . . . humoring you for so long, but you couldn't just keep walking around making excuses and lying to everyone while people were suffering and dying just because you had to pretend to be human for a while. So yes. You left them. Haven't visited since Lois finally signed the divorce papers. Haven't spoken to your parents either. You've been . . . erratic. Since Kon-El's disappearance. When we couldn't find him . . . when we couldn't even find out what happened to him . . ." 

"Oh," Clark says, and his heart sinks again. 

He doesn't understand, though. Kon is–he cares about the kid, obviously. Cares very deeply about him. He's pretty sure he even loves him, at this point. But he's not . . . 

It feels terrible to think it, but Clark doesn't understand why Kon disappearing like that would affect him enough to stop being Clark. It's awful, and he still hasn't let himself actually think about it happening at all because he really can't process it right now, but that awful? Really? Awful enough to abandon being any semblance of a normal person? Abandon Lois and his parents entirely? 

Abandon Jon entirely? 

Apparently, yes. 

"Technically you're on unpaid sabbatical from the Planet," Bruce tells him. "We thought you might . . . reconsider, once you'd grieved properly, so Lois pulled some strings with Perry White. He thinks you're having an early mid-life crisis and your co-workers think you're off finding yourself in South America with a bad cell phone plan." 

"I guess I don't believe in satellite phones?" Clark says, trying for wry again. It doesn't work, but he tries all the same. 

"This is unfair of me, but I'm going to take advantage of your current mental state," Bruce says. He's looking at the wall, though there's nothing there to actually be looking at. Not even anything on the other side, at least not according to X-ray vision. "Try to remember how you feel right now, when your memories of the past year return. Try to remember who you are right now, when those memories return."

"Why?" Clark asks, watching him carefully as he does. The corners of Bruce's mouth tighten. Just barely, but undeniably. 

"You've been . . . gone, Clark," Bruce says slowly. "You won't even answer to 'Clark' anymore. You aren't the same man that I . . . that we all . . ." 

The stranger comes back before Bruce has to admit to too many personal feelings or Clark can figure out what to say to any of that, which might be a mercy but might also be–

The stranger looks . . . strange, Clark notices. Nauseated, almost. And definitely distressed. 

"I haven't done brain scans on Superman before," they say, their grip on their clipboard concerningly close to white-knuckled. "And my predecessor apparently hadn't done any in a while either. Last ones in the system are over two years old." 

"What's wrong?" Bruce says, narrowing his eyes. Honestly at this point Clark figures a kryptonite brain tumor would really just be the icing on the cake, and frankly would probably explain some of his apparent behavioral changes and current memory loss. That genuinely makes more sense than anything else, really, even with grief and guilt to contend with.

More sense than abandoning his own damn kid does, at least. 

Although a tumor's the worst-case scenario, obviously. And it can't be any worse than that, really, or any worse than anything he's apparently done to his family this past year, so at least he's braced for–

"There's an . . . organism," the stranger says, swallowing uncomfortably. "In your brain." 

"What?" Clark says. 

"A dead organism, now," the stranger clarifies. "But it looks like it's been there for a while. There are . . . roots. And . . . lesions, too." 

"An organism," Bruce repeats very, very slowly. "In Superman's brain." 

"Yes," the stranger says. 

"I don't . . ." Clark trails off. 

"We need more scans," Bruce says. 

"I ran it four times on two different machines," the stranger says. "It's organic. It's not giving off any recognizable life signs. It seems like it might've been . . . you mentioned electrocution, before?" 

"You think the electricity killed it," Bruce realizes. "And then Superman forgot fourteen months?" 

"I'm not sure Superman ever experienced those fourteen months to begin with," the stranger says tightly, gripping their clipboard even harder. 

Clark was in no way whatsoever braced for this. 

"Fuck," Bruce says. 

More scans happen after all. A lot more scans, a lot of specialists, and a lot of arguing. Everything's a bit of a blur, in a sense. Clark absorbs very little of it, and mostly leaves things to Bruce unless he's asked a direct question about his medical history. His judgment might be compromised right now, after all, whether the . . . organism is dead or not. 

The emergency OR gets prepped. The red sun lamps get set up inside it. 

"Should we contact Lois?" Bruce asks as Clark's shrugging into an ill-fitting hospital gown and preparing himself to possibly die in pursuit of getting a dead who-knows-what out of his brain before it can start to rot there and potentially kill him that way. "Or your parents?" 

"No," Clark says. "Just get this damn thing out of my head." 

If he doesn't survive the removal process . . . 

They don't know what's been going on. What he let happen to himself, somehow.

He isn't going to tell them he's back just to immediately take himself away again. 

He records something for Jon, just in case. It's not enough, but it's–something, he tells himself. It's something. 

It's all he can bring himself to do. 

He leaves the disk with the recording on it with Bruce and asks him to have Dick deliver it, if it's necessary. 

Things proceed from there, and Clark wakes up again a week later in a private room in the med bay, connected to half a dozen machines and needles and tubes and directly facing the sun. Diana is dozing in the chair next to his bed. Bruce is pacing at the foot of it. They're both in costume. Clark feels weak and groggy, but he can hear half a dozen other heartbeats lingering in the hall, so presumably they were expecting him to wake up around now. 

"Mm," he says. Diana snaps awake. Bruce stops mid-step. 

They both look at him. 

"The operation was a success," Bruce informs him. "Textbook. Or as textbook as removing a mind-controlling parasite of unknown origins from a Kryptonian brain can get for mostly-human surgeons, anyway." 

"Do you need anything?" Diana asks. "Would you like us to call your family yet?" 

Clark shakes his head, then closes his eyes and sleeps for another week. 

"Sleep", he supposes, counts as something that he needs right now. 

The next time he wakes up, he's alone in his room and disconnected from the machines and just feels . . . normal, really. Like nothing was ever wrong at all and he didn't just have major surgery that was, essentially, the equivalent of multiple traumatic brain injuries. His hair is already starting to grow back from where it was buzzed down for the surgery, and there's not even any bandages on his head. 

There's no noticeable scarring, Clark observes when he makes it to the little ensuite bathroom to take a look in the mirror. The surgeons told him there probably wouldn't be, given both the methods they'd been intending to use and the nature of his own physiology, but seeing the total lack of proof of what happened to him is just . . . strange, somehow. 

It feels almost like a cheat. Like it should be obvious, in some way. 

There was a parasite in his head. Something controlling him. Pretending to be him. Passing for him. It could've done anything it wanted. 

It did do things that Clark still has no idea about. 

So many things. 

He couldn't even fight it. Wasn't conscious or aware enough to, or just not strong enough to, or just . . . 

He couldn't even fight it. 

And he doesn't know what it did. 

The door opens. Diana walks in. 

"Would you like us to call your family now?" she asks. 

"Yes," Clark says roughly, curling his fingers around the sides of the sink in front of him. "Please." 

"Of course," Diana says with a terrible and merciless gentleness. 

Clark sits down on the lid of the toilet and just . . . cries. Just for a minute. 

Or twenty. 

Diana kneels in front of him and holds his hands in her own. 

Fourteen months, Clark thinks, all twisted up with grief and pain and so, so much regret. He missed so much. He wasn't there for Jon or Lois or his parents. He wasn't there for Bruce or Diana or the League, for either of Kara, for . . . 

For Kon. He wasn't there for Kon. 

Wasn't there for Kon when the kid needed him. 

Kon completely vanished, and who knows if the damn parasite even pretended to help look for him? If it did anything at all for him? Who knows if Clark could've found him, could've saved him, if he'd still been himself at the time? 

. . . who knows if the parasite isn't what made Kon disappear to begin with? 

It took fourteen months of Clark's life, and Kon . . . Kon disappeared two weeks into those fourteen months. 

If nothing else, the timing is a screaming red flag. 

Clark abandoned his son and might've murdered a kid who only ever looked up to him, a kid who he was never really able to fully understand but literally named, and he can't do anything to bring Kon back or to make up for the year that he wasn't there for the rest of his family. 

Their family. 

God, what has he done? What has Clark done, and did Kon die feeling afraid or shocked or terrified? Did he die feeling betrayed? Did he think it was Clark doing it, however it happened? 

Did he die thinking Clark wanted him to die? 

Clark doesn't even know what happened to his body. 

There won't be another resurrection.  

Clark chokes. Diana squeezes his hands. He grips hers like a lifeline and shudders through it. The grief is a terrible, ugly thing. It's one of the worst things Clark's ever felt. 

The guilt is worse. 

"Lois," he murmurs finally, feeling like the weakest man alive. "Could you call . . . Lois, please, and just . . . ask if she'll come. I'll explain it all to her, just–could you call her, please." 

"Yes," Diana says, squeezing his hands again. "Of course." 

"Thank you," Clark says. 

He pulls himself together, more or less, and Diana goes to make the call. She comes back a few minutes later and tells him Lois agreed, but needs to find a babysitter first. Clark in no way blames her for not bringing Jon along and frankly is surprised she's willing to come at all. 

He's not sure what he could even say to Jon right now. 

What can he? 

Diana makes sure he eats something, then leaves for monitor duty. Clark tries not to overthink things. Tries not to think too much at all. 

He spent fourteen months not thinking at all, though, all of it lost in one oblivious blink, so that doesn't work out all that well for him. 

An hour later, he hears the Zeta platform activate on the opposite side of the base, and hears Lois's heartbeat appear inside the watchtower. 

Clark exhales, very slowly. 

He waits. 

Lois comes to the med bay. She doesn't stop to talk to anyone on the way. Doesn't talk to anyone except that stranger Clark still doesn't actually know the name of, who tells her where to find him. 

And then a minute or a millennium later she's standing in the open doorway of his room, and Clark is looking at her. Her expression is neutral, and her hair is shorter than it was the last time he remembers seeing her–the last time he was the one actually seeing her. An inverse bob, not shoulder-length anymore. He recognizes the blazer and heels that she's wearing, but not the blouse or the pants. Not the earrings or the necklace, either. 

And there's no wedding ring to recognize either way. 

Clark wonders what happened to his. 

God, but she's still the most amazing woman he's ever seen, and he's still never once deserved a single part of her. Not even a fraction of a part. 

Especially not now. 

"Kal," she greets, tone just as neutral as her expression, and Clark aches. 

"Clark," he says, just a little too abrupt, and Lois–pauses. 

"Clark," she amends casually as she tucks her hands into the pockets of her blazer, and if he didn't know her quite so well he wouldn't have even heard the crack in her voice around his name, super-hearing or not. "Never seen your hair this short. I kinda miss the curl, not gonna lie. It has charm, you know? Very boy scout next door." 

"I had emergency brain surgery," Clark says. Lois pauses again. Tilts her head. He keeps talking. "Two weeks ago, now. Just woke up again fully today." 

"What?" she says, just staring at him. "You–what happened?" 

"It's . . . unclear, still," Clark replies slowly. "But as far as we can tell, roughly fourteen months back an unidentified alien parasite moved into my brain and . . . took me over, essentially. I don't actually–I don't remember any of that time. At all. Then two weeks ago I got electrocuted in Keystone and the parasite died. The surgery was to remove its body so my brain could heal from the damage it did without it rotting in there." 

Lois keeps staring at him. 

"Fourteen months," she echoes very, very carefully. 

"I'm so sorry," Clark says tightly. "Bruce told me I left you. Left you and Jon. That I stopped being . . . myself. I can't imagine how difficult that was, or how it must've felt." 

"I can't imagine how waking up and hearing that none of us even noticed you were gone felt," Lois says. 

"You never do pull a punch, do you," Clark says with a weak attempt at a smile. 

"I'm sorry," Lois says evenly. "I should've known." 

"No one did," Clark says, then . . . hesitates. "Or . . . we think no one did." 

"You think that's what happened to Kon," Lois says, because of course she's already done the math, and of course she's already had the thought herself. Obviously she would've. 

"The timing is . . . likely, at least," Clark says. "And really, if anyone was going to see my face and notice that a different person was wearing it . . ."

"You have a point," Lois murmurs. She steps into the room. Clark wants to hold her. He also wants to bury himself in the coldest, darkest place that he can find and never, ever let himself see the sun again. 

He doesn't deserve it anymore. 

"I'm so angry that I want to cry," Lois says, her voice very distant and her eyes locked on his. Clark can see her hands fisting in her pockets. "I'm so . . . god. I should've known. You never would've left Jon. Not like that." 

"Bruce made it sound like the parasite was . . . very convincing," Clark says. It convinced Bruce, who may just be the most paranoid mind on the planet, so . . .

"It was," Lois agrees, still without taking her eyes off his. "But I still should've known." 

Clark blinks a little too quickly. Lois tightens her jaw. Takes her hands out of her pockets and leaves them at her sides instead. Clark never thought he'd see them without her wedding ring again. 

"It's been–months, I know," he says, hating himself for thinking he even deserves to say this. "For you. But I still . . ." 

"I love you," Lois says. "Come home." 

There is no possible world in which he could tell her "no". 

Med bay makes him wait for another two hours of observation and runs some scans, but then they let him go. Lois waits with him the whole time. She doesn't call anyone or send any texts. Doesn't leave the room. Barely says a word. Hardly even takes her eyes off him, like she thinks if she blinks he's going to disappear. 

Clark can hardly keep her heartbeat out of his ears, so he doesn't blame her. 

He doesn't blame her at all. 

They go to Smallville. Bruce had said he'd send Dick to pick up Jon from the babysitter's and get him to the farm, and as much as Clark had wanted to go straight to him himself . . . 

Ma and Pa first, he reminds himself. This is going to be upsetting for Jon–most likely traumatic, once it all sinks in. And definitely disorienting. It'll be best if as many of the adults in his life as possible know what's going on in advance, so he can go to whoever he needs to go to; get whatever comfort they can prepare themselves to offer. 

Clark doesn't know how to do this. 

He doesn't . . . 

They don't take two steps onto the farm before a familiar blur is crashing into him head-on. 

"Oh," Clark manages, and Krypto barks excitedly and flies up to lick his face, tail wagging wildly as he jumps all over him. Like he's missed him. Like he's been waiting for him. 

Clark nearly cries again.

"Good boy, Krypto," he tells him, quiet and rough. "I missed you too, boy." 

He scratches Krypto's ears. Strokes his back. Krypto nearly bowls him over in delight. 

Clark buries his face in his neck and cries a bit after all. 

Lois watches. 

Waits. 

Clark spends . . . maybe a little bit too long crying on his dog, and then they all head up to the house. Ma and Pa are both standing on the porch; presumably they heard Krypto barking. They both look a little bit startled and a little bit confused and a lot more pained at the sight of him, and Clark swallows painfully and stops just before the porch steps. 

He looks at them, and he loves them so desperately. Everything they ever did for him, and everything they've ever been to him, and . . . 

"I'm sorry," he says. "I just . . . there was . . ."

God, the way this hurts. 

"It was mind control," he says. "The past fourteen months or so. I was . . . I wasn't. Wasn't here. Or . . . anywhere." 

"Oh," Ma says, and her eyes are instantly wet with tears. Pa blinks very quickly, his hand curling against the porch railing. 

"I'm so, so sorry," Clark repeats tightly, his own hands in useless fists. "But I'm–back now. I'm home." 

"Oh, Clark," Ma chokes, and then they both throw themselves at him. Clark's been hugged by people with strength far past superhuman, but it's never felt . . . 

No. It's never once felt the same way as when his parents do it. 

They cling to him. He clings back. Krypto barks again and swoops around the knot of them, wagging his tail hard enough to nearly knock Lois over with the force of wind it stirs up. Definitely some of the porch furniture gets displaced. 

Clark feels so much. 

They sit together on the porch, Krypto sprawled contentedly across Clark's lap and Lois on the steps beside him. Clark gives Ma and Pa what explanation he can–tells them everything he knows about Keystone and the electrocution and the watchtower and the surgery and waking up. They watch him just as intently as Lois does the entire time. 

He doesn't . . . he doesn't mention his suspicions about what might've happened to Kon. Not . . . not yet. 

He doesn't know how to. Not to Ma and Pa. Not after he brought the kid here and left him on their doorstep with no real direction and . . . 

Just–he'll tell them. He'll tell them soon. 

Just . . . not yet. 

It's not a very long talk, in the end. Ma and Pa take in everything he says and just take it all in stride, just like they always have. Baby in a spaceship? Kid with superpowers? Son who thinks he can save the whole damn world? 

Of course they take it in stride. 

Clark loves them too much to even define. Too much to even wrap his own head around. They're the best people he knows. The best people he's ever known. 

They don't even think there's anything for him to be sorry for. 

It's . . . painful, a little, when Clark realizes that. 

Or a lot. 

So, so damn painful. 

Clark hears the definitely-not-a-Batmobile coming, far down the road. Three heartbeats inside it. Dick, Damian, and . . . 

Jon. 

Obviously. 

Clark strokes Krypto's ears one last time, then gets up. No one asks him why, but he supposes the look on his face must be answer enough right now. 

He steps off the porch and goes to wait by the driveway. 

It's not that long a wait, but it feels like the better part of eternity.

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

(i kept forgetting to make this post for a while and only remembered when i was reading @antispopausandstuff 's recent post; sorry for the tag!)

i have to say this: catra having a mental breakdown basically every single season was pathetic.

usually villains have a third-act breakdown where they realize that they're losing to the heroes or they're losing control over their own allies, and they spiral into anger and desperation.

azula's spiralling in s3 of atla is a clear example of this, as she goes from the level-headed, cunning prodigy to a child who has lost everyone in her life and is desperately trying to use fear to keep people around. it's tragic because yes, she's a horrible person who enjoys torturing people and seeing them in pain, but she's also a 13 year old who was groomed into the perfect soldier by her father.

not all third-act breakdowns are like this though. sometimes instead of feeling bad for the villain, we feel satisfied seeing their downfall, because they weren't a sympathetic character in the slightest and they deserved to have that realization right before getting their ass whooped.

with catra, i get neither of these. i guess i felt a little bad for her the first time and i felt satisfied the second time, but then it just got boring.

there was no need for her to have a meltdown in every single season, only for the writers to use it as an excuse to make catra do even worse shit and hurt more people.

not to mention, her mental state wasn't consistent enough during these breakdowns. let me explain. let's take the s3 one, for instance.

catra is clearly rattled by the knowledge that shadow weaver picked adora over her (which.. wow who would have thought. but whatever). she is dissociating as she walks back to scorpia, there are tears in her eyes, she's devastated.

but then, as soon as catra reaches the horde with adora as her prisoner, she seems perfectly fine. she's calm and smirking proudly as she throws a bound adora to the floor.

and then when entrapta tries to oppose catra's attempts at opening the portal, oh no! catra is not mentally well again and she electrocutes entrapta. and she threatens to do the same to scorpia.

and then she goes right back to being calm and tells hordak that entrapta betrayed him (i'm sorry i don't care how good at lying someone is, i doubt they can deliver such a convincing lie when they are in a poor mental state) and mocks him for trusting entrapta.

and then throughout the portal sequence, catra is oddly calm. not just during the false reality, when she was pretending that everything was normal, but even after that when she starts sadistically torturing adora.

this doesn't seem like a character who finally snapped and is doing horrible things in a desperate attempt to regain control. it reads as a character who always wanted to do horrible things and finally got the chance to do it.

i can't view catra's breakdown in s3 as sympathetic because her actions seemed so intentional. the writers didn't even try to make it look like catra was going through some serious mental health issues and was only making such a dangerous choice because of that.

coming back to my original point, repeating a trope (especially a one-time trope like this) quickly gets stale. and it's even funnier when you think about the fact that catra basically had a dedicated mental breakdown every season and still didn't learn her lesson.

you stop feeling sorry for her and start rolling your eyes, wondering what atrocities she's going to commit this time. it's just the same thing over and over again, and it's funny that the writers used this as a way to keep reminding viewers that catra is a poor traumatized baby who definitely didn't make the choices that led to all this.

it's just bad writing. sure, in real life, people may have multiple breakdowns if they going through some shit. i can certainly attest. but it just doesn't work from a story point of view, especially when the writers refuse to hold catra accountable for your actions. mental health issues or not, you are responsible for your actions and you should work on changing your unhealthy coping mechanisms.

[moonlight-tmd]

Bumblebee having an electric ability without mods and he’s just never told his team because outliers weren’t always seen as good & so he never uses it publicly.

One day his stingers get yanked out and his team is hurt and so he HAS to use it.

He hasn’t used it in so long he forgot how powerful it could be and accidentally knocked out himself and the threat and his team because he lost control.

Blitzbee - he hints at it to Blitz because decepticons were more open about outliers & one day he shows blitz who helps him learn how to control it.

Prowlbee - Bee doesn’t give a single hint and prowl is so hurt bee didn’t feel he could trust him but he understands because he’s seen what outliers went through and Ratchet is so hurt because his grandson ( self declared ) didn’t slip him the outlier info off record while Optimus is such a mom and worrying for bee.

Bulkhead figured it out when he saw bee get electrocuted one day on Earth but didn’t even seem phased beyond surprised and just brushed it off.

Ok i kinda don't know what you're on about but i think i see it?

To simplify: Bee can manipulate electricity as a feat, just like Icy and Hotheat can control Ice/Fire respectively. And those that can do that are basically outcasted from society for being a threat/different.

Bee may have been forged defected but lemme tell ya, those wiring mishaps actually made him tougher to crack. The electricity just didn't flow right like with normal bots therefore he couldn't really take shock damage. He'd withstand high voltages with almost no harm.

Of course, being the street-raised bot he knew the risks of standing out so he tried his best to hide it. I think he might have accidentally electrocuted someone to death when he was a fresh runaway from the carequarters. He never knew they died, just that one moment someone was trying to hurt him and the next they were laying on the ground motionless and he ran as fast as he could.

He knew electricity could hurt so he tried his best to pretend being hurt whenever something zapped him. It was tough getting around trying not to zap anything but once he got the stingers from Ratchet the uncotrolled zapping was slightly more controlled as it had actual output designed to release electric charges.

Team Prime- Bee never told them about his little stunt ability, he thought they would look at him differently if he ever did.

One time some 'con ripped out his stingers and crushed them, Team Prime barely got to Bee to defend him. Ratchet had a lot of fixing to do so Bee was left defenceless for a while. One time when he and some other bot from the team were helping out some citizen, Constructicons wanted to have fun and came to wreck them. It was a close call and the rest of the team got there in time to fight... but something went wrong and the bad guys had advantage after advantage. At some point they were about to finish off Prowl when Bee came out of the forced hiding and latched onto the 'con before letting out the highest voltage electroshock he could muster. Of course it barely missed his teammates as chain reaction went off and knocked out half of the cons and damaged the rest. Somehow they managed to scramble and run away with the carcasses of their unconscious fellas, leaving Team Prime in quite literal shock of what happened.

Optimus was the first to be at Bee's side after noticing the scout laying motionless on the ground. He tried to reach and shake him awake but the moment his servo got close a leftover jolt of electricity zapped him hard, leaving a half-scorched mark.

Bee wakes up in medbay after few hours and is greeted by very worried Team. They ask him about what the heck happened back there and Bee avoids answering until Ratchet yells at him to tell them because it's important (and from that high voltage technically he should be dead lol).

Bee is visibly nervous but gives in and tells them. "So you know how Blitzwing can manipulate ice 'nd fire?"

"Yes- what does that have to do with this??"

"Well,... I can kinda do the same but- with electricity?"

And then he shows them a trick he learned to entertain himself- just making little electric sparks between his servos- when they ask to explain. Now onto reactions-

Optimus: He's still recovering from having his servo temporarily disabled by the leftover discharge, he's very much surprised and then concerned that Bee never told them- he worries about Bee's wellbeing as well as this being a possible threat for everyone if Bee doesn't get full control over it.

Ratchet: Honestly he shouldn't be surprised, the kid had so many electrocuting accidents that ended in no damages he should have connected the dots already. He just wishes the kid would have told him something about it to spare so many hours half-paranoid over how this mech still works after so many stunts that should have killed him.

Bulkhead: Bee told him about nearly everything except the super personal stuff like trauma. He's a little hurt for the lack of trust from his best friend but still finds it cool that Bee has such neat ability.

Sari: She is so heckin happy- Bee can do cool shit and make electronics do his bidding(kinda)! That's so cool! She does get a little spooked if she's too close to said electricity cuz she's been taught about the dangerous side of it.

Prowl: He's very much surprised cuz he didn't think someone else on the team possesed a unique ability like him (the whole hologram duplication and weird telekinesis thing, ex: turning stasis cuffs/electric locks off). He'll be glad to help Bee learn to control this ability. If ProwlBee: Prowl would still be surprised but he'd also be disappointed that Bee never told him when Prowl himself was pretty open about having his unique ability. He understands why Bee might have felt like he shouldn't say anything but he still feels that little bit of hurt inside.

If BlitzBee: Blitz learns about it before the event. Icy was showing him fun ways to play with ice and frost and Bee was so amazed by it he accidentally mentioned wishing he'd be able to do that with his element. Bee was shy about it when Blitzwing asked but he eventually showed him the little entertaining trick i mentioned earlier. It wasn't anything spectacular, he tried his best to keep it as low as possible to not get it out of control, but Blitz was still amazed and excited that his hummel could do something similar to his powers. Of course he teaches Bee how to manipulate element and they have some fun.

I think after the fact Bee can manipulate electricity is out in the open, Bee will definitelly pull some pranks on the others like messing with the lights or turning on/off some non-important machines to annoy them.

It would also make them aware of why the fuck Bee has so much energy all the time- the scout keeps his battery up by touching electronics, he unawarily charges himself via other stuff's batteries/outlet connections. (This explains why his switch/controller keeps dying so soon, huh.)

After being taught how to control his ability he defo drains certain stuff on purpose like, he'd drain stasis cuffs off their power and switch off the forcefield cell the 'cons put him in to hold hostage. Heck he might even drain them off energy if he sticks to them long enough and gets them passed out on the ground. It's also a good way to make someone go to berth when they can't recharge- drain them low enough to enforce the recharge protocol.

Ngl, that kinda sounds like energetic vampire but Bee's all for it. He likes the joke and keeps the play up quite well whenever someone mentions his ability.

[rottenpumpkin13]

What kind of smartphones would AGSZC use? Apple or Android?

P.S. - Angeal totally strikes me as an old school flip phone kind of guy.

Angeal: Nokia brick If Shinra didn't provide updated models for all of them, Angeal would have never made the switch from flip phones to smartphones, and would still keep his old phone that was held together by duct tape, superglue, and electrocuted him every time he touched it, because "it works perfectly fine, and phones are for calling, so why buy a new one?"

Zack: latest iPhone Zack misses flip phones not because of the phone itself, but because of how efficient he used to be pre-apps and games. Unfortunately Angeal now has ammo against him.

Zack: OW! MY LEG HURTS!

Angeal: It's because of that damn phone.

Zack: I'M BLEEDING??

Angeal: That damn phone.

Zack: I THINK I BROKE IT!

Angeal: Because you spend too much time on your phone.

Cloud: Doesn't care about the type of phone he has as long as it makes calls and sends emails. He doesn’t get the fuss over the latest models and has no interest in smartphones.

Sephiroth: If he had a say in it, the man wouldn't even own a phone. He would communicate solely through letters and telegrams because that's how exhausted he is of being reachable 24/7. Sometimes he completely gets rid of his phone.

Genesis: I've been trying to reach you for three hours!

Sephiroth: Yes, I threw my phone away. It's healthy to take a break from technology once in a while, Genesis.

Genesis: Angeal is missing! What if he's been in danger and needed to call you??

Sephiroth: If the information is important enough, it will find its way to me.

*A dove flies up to Sephiroth and delivers a letter*

Genesis: !?

*Sephiroth reads it*

Sephiroth: Ah. What did I tell you?

Genesis: Is it Angeal??

Sephiroth: No. Zack has sent me a cat meme.

Genesis: Red iPhone As much as he loves the invention of the smartphone and being able to watch the soap operas (that he denies watching) on the go, he's a sucker for historical relics, and purchased a red rotary phone for his office. It rings at a volume that is a nuisance to the environment.

*Sephiroth walks into Genesis' office, where the phone won't stop ringing*

Sephiroth: Genesis, you need to get rid of that phone. I've been receiving complaints about it all day.

Genesis: Please, you're just jealous of my telephone.

Sephiroth: I promise you I'm not.

Genesis: Ha! I'll tell you what—whoever has a problem with me and my telephone can call me directly to complain about it.

Sephiroth: Understood.

*Sephiroth leaves*

*Three minutes later, the phone rings again and Genesis picks it up*

Genesis: Hello?

Sephiroth: IF YOU DON'T GET RID OF THAT THING, GENESIS, I WILL RETURN YOU TO THE GODDESS.

Genesis:

[antispopausandstuff]

you guys know the s5 scene where catra left adora to die?

here's another thing i noticed.

she's apologizing for dying. while it's really fucked up, it is within adora's character to apologize for something she couldn't control. i can't recall, but she did something similar to glimmer and bow a few minutes prior to this.

however, while the writers may not have intended for this, adora is also apologizing for this:

now, you might be drawing a blank at how this is correlated to her apology, until you remember what exactly catra and adora were talking about here:

adora is about to die.

originally, the conversation was about adora somehow choosing shadow weaver over catra ( which did not happen ), but when catra wasn't winning the argument, she shifted it to be about adora practically being led to her death.

catra's wording starts out as her acknowledging that adora doesn't have a choice in this ( which goes against her earlier reaction to just crying and running away from her when she gets the failsafe ), but then it changes its tune and becomes an accusation of choosing this path, when adora has been forced to take this.

basically, adora is apologizing to catra in the finale as if to prove that catra was right, even though she's literally dying right in front of her.

and catra never apologizes for leaving her.

speaking of which, would this apology even work on catra?

because we all know the real reason she left.

she left because somehow, someway, she twisted the entire conversation and everything related to shadow weaver as adora actively wanting to be around their abusive mother, despite showing multiple cases to catra herself that she doesn't.

adora doesn't like being around shadow weaver. she doesn't like her at all. she may not want the woman to suffer harshly, adora did heal her when she was sick, but she doesn't want to be around shadow weaver if she doesn't have to be.

and catra knows that. there's several instances throughout the show that she's smart enough to see and understand that. she even uses a torture method sw used on her previously on adora and swift wind in the previous season, because she knew it would severely hurt her. especially since catra, for whatever reason, put the electrocution on steroids.

so, it's not like catra has been blind to adora's distaste, she just chooses when to acknowledge it.

catra sees adora eventually dying as 1. choosing to die and 2. choosing shadow weaver over her, in this current scene.

adora has no idea catra thinks this way, so her apology for just dying is not only really fucked up, but is most likely entirely pointless.

these two don't see the same problem. at least, not the exact same one. catra may still be pissed off at adora daring to "choose" the universe over death, for daring to choose the lives of literally everyone on the motherfucking planet over herself, but she's still more upset at adora "choosing" their mother over her.

so, what is adora apologizing for exactly?

yes, for dying, but how does catra see it? knowing catra, the best case scenario is she probably sees it as adora apologizing for being "wrong" ( because she says "no matter what happens, i am staying with you", but then gaslights adora into staying ), and for choosing their mom over her, even though neither of those are true or correlated within the context.

this level of thinking is on par with stans, so i'm not surprised catra herself acts this way.

it sure did hurt my brain when i realized it, though.

[valley-of-headcanons]

bachelorettes reacting to you getting hurt || headcanons

these bachelorettes vowed to stay with you, in sickness and in health! part two here!

warnings: you get hurt (obv) by: the mines, ocean, farming, tree, electrocution, and animals. if you're scared of that, don't read this :)

requested by: anon! thank you so much for the request! oh how i love comfort fics <3 it was kinda hard trying to figure out unique things that would hurt the farmer so pardon the slightly goofy scenarios 💀 had to screenshot anon message because tumblr hates my guts and won't let me post. anyway, hope you enjoy! :)

abigail

• You told Abigail you were heading to the mines, and it was rather late. She was worried, but she knew you'd be fine. You've done it several times, what would make this time different? Well, seeing as you didn't have enough food to keep your energy and help up ... uh oh. You weren't doing well, pretty beat up at this point. Tons of scratches and more blood than there really should be …

• Once it hit 2 AM, Abigail couldn't rest anymore. She was worried sick about you. Yes, you both were adventurous spirits, but everyone has their limits. So, Abigail got ready to head into the mines to find you. She descended through the floors, searching for you while slicing the monsters. She was more scared than she'd like to admit, and it was evident on her face.

• Once she found you passed out cold on a relatively low floor, she freaked the fuck out. She eventually got you to wake up through enough pushing and shoving. You looked to see your frantic lover's face for only a moment before she pulled you into a deep hug. She wasn't one to be emotional, she didn't like talking about that stuff, but when it came to you ... she loved you too much to hide it.

• “God- you had me worried sick! It's three in the morning- and you were- you were knocked unconscious and ... I was worried I lost you ... you can't do that to me, you had me so worried, I ... God, I sound like my dad ... just- please. Be more careful. I was worried I ... I was worried I didn't have the power to wake you up. Or ... anything did. I'm just glad you're awake, now let's get to Harvey's ASAP.”

• Abigail hurried with you to Harvey's, trying her hardest to stay calm with deep breaths. Despite the blood that was pouring on her clothes, her shaking hands, and her worries ... she stayed externally calm for you. She got you to Harvey's in no time, and he stitched you up with some warnings. Abigail made sure you stuck to them. Yes, she encourages rebellion, but not when it comes to health.

emily

• You decided to do some late night fishing. You had made kind of a big purchase today, so you needed to make up for it with some fish sales. Emily knew where you'd be, down by the beach. You go fishing all the time, it's not like this time would be very different. But when you hadn't come home, and the clock is striking 2 AM ... something was fishy.

• Emily made her way toward the beach, her intuition telling her something was wrong. Something didn't seem right in the slightest. But, she tried to keep her cool, as nothing that bad could've happened, right ...? She's one of the most calm and collected bachelorettes, despite her eccentric nature. She's truly the most emotionally mature. So ... why was she so nervous?

• When she saw you face down in the sand, it all clicked. She raced over to you, taking off her shoes and slinging them across the sand so she could get to you faster. She turned you over, trying to get you to respond. Worry laced her expression, trying to think of what to do. She had to learn CPR to work at the Saloon, so she decided to try it. She's out of practice, but ... when your eyes popped open, coughing up sea water and sand, everything seemed to be remotely okay.

• “Jeez- you had me worried for a second there! We've gotta get you to Harvey's tonight, you crashed out. I should've told you that something didn't feel right about fishing tonight, but I thought it'd be okay ... that's behind us. Right now, we've gotta get you back to health! Let's get to Harvey's. I'll be your crutch, 'kay?”

• As she helped you to Harvey's, she was a bit nervous but she knew you'd be fine. You were in good hands, and no matter what, something like this couldn't take you down. So, after getting to Harvey's, she sat by your side and held your hand as Harvey checked everything out. She trusted that fate knew what it was doing, and it did. She knew something this simple couldn't take you down.

haley

• Bright and early, you needed to do some work on the farm. Haley had opted to stay in the bed, claiming to need her beauty rest. Even though she didn't need it, you let her rest. You didn't need your partner sitting on the porch for you to do farmwork! It's not like you were a toddler who needed to be supervised, right? ... right?

• Haley woke up about an hour or two after you had, fixing herself some morning tea and admiring the scenery. She gazed out the window, looking at the beautiful life you two had created together. She was really proud of you, and the life you provided for her, even though she didn't say it nearly enough. She was shook from those thoughts when she noticed that you weren't tending to the farm like you normally were. You were laying in it. Not moving.

• Essentially launching herself out of the cabin in a robe, she ran to your side. Haley was screaming and panicking, dragging you out of the crops and sitting by your side. She shook you, trying her hardest to get you to wake up. She didn't know what was happening. Heat stroke? An undisclosed illness she didn't know you had? But then she noticed the already forming bump on your forehead ... you hit yourself in the head with your hoe? Really? Once your eyes began to open, she hugged you really tight before letting you have it.

• “Babe! How did you hurt yourself with a hoe?! You've got to be more careful! You're so- ... you're so stupid. I love you, you've gotta take better care for yourself! What if I hadn't seen you and you suffocated or something! I can't be around all the time! ... let's get you to Harvey's to get you checked out, dummy ... no, I'm not mad. My nerves are just super heightened now ... you know I worry about you, right?”

• Haley took you to Harvey's hoping that you hadn't done significant brain damage. When she knew that you were fine, she apologized for freaking out and giving you a kiss on the cheek. She'd still tease you about it, but she didn't raise any more hell. She was genuinely worried about you, and she doesn't respond to stress well.

leah

• Leah was hard at work on a sculpture, chipping away at the driftwood on the table in front of her. You wanted to do something nice for her: cut down a tree and give her the wood for her projects. She gives you so many things, so it's time you give her something in return! So, you set out on this journey, unbeknownst to Leah. She started to get a bit worried when you hadn't been around in a while, though …

• She had gotten so sucked into her work, she didn't realize that you had been gone for so long. It was getting pretty late, where could you be? She racked her brain for answers as she stood, calling out your name. She looked across the farm, not seeing you. Her last resort was to head into town, but she needed to drop by her old cabin for some materials. So, she headed through Cindersap Forest. She didn't expect to see you, helpless under a cut down tree.

• Leah's heart raced as she called your name, rushing by your side. Her first course of action was to pull the tree off of you, huffing and puffing but eventually getting it off of you. She looked over your body, seeing that you were mostly unharmed aside from maybe a broken leg. The tree must've hit you on the head on the way down. She dragged you to Harvey's without waking you up, she knew that this was probably dire. You woke up to Leah sitting beside you in the hospital.

• “Hey love, you scared me there ... I was worried I had lost you. What happened? ... ah, I see. Please, be more careful. I can lend you a book on how to more carefully cut trees? ... I love you. I don't say it nearly enough, even though I think I say it all the time. Please get some rest and get healed up, Harvey's gonna take care of you. No, don't apologize, you're fine hon.”

• After Harvey put your broken leg into a cast and explained how to properly take care of it, you looked over to Leah. She smiled at you softly, holding your hand. You knew that you were in safe hands with her. She was going to make sure you were taken care of, whether you liked it or not. She wasn't going to rest until she knew you were better.

maru

• Maru was working on a big project and needed some batteries. You were happy to provide! The lightning rods on your farm were the best way to go about it. Finally, you woke up to a rainy day! Maru was already hard at work in the home, so you went out to do your chores. Batteries were ready! You just had to grab them, and- pzzzt!

• She was very sucked into her work, not noticing that you had been gone for a remarkable amount of time. About midday, Maru got up to get herself a drink of water. She started to wonder about how you were doing and where you had gone, so she decided to step out into the rain to look for you. She didn't expect to find you laying in the dirt beside the lightning rods.

• Maru rushed over to you, pulling you away from the lightning rods and looking over your body. You were breathing, but you were definitely out. She tried to wake you up, but nothing. This was out of her nursing expertise, so she dragged you to Harvey's, slowly but surely. She got you there shortly, letting Harvey take care of you and helping him to the best of her ability. When you woke up, she was right by your side.

• “Hey hon, did you get electrocuted? ... yeah, I got you to Harvey's. Yes, you're fine, I assume you hit your head hard on the fall down. Is there anything else that feels odd? ... yes, you have a minor concussion, but I'll be home to help you out. You worry me, farmer ... I love you, though. You keep life interesting.”

• Maru followed Harvey's orders exactly, making sure you were on the way to recovery. She kept you fed and medicated for your pains. Taking care of someone is not something Maru normally does, despite her being a nurse. But she knows what to do and tries her hardest, giving you small little kisses in between your requests. She shows her love for you by doing everything you need.

penny

• You were going about, doing your daily chores while Penny was out with Jas and Vincent. This was the usual, despite your married life. You were working with the animals, as per usual. Tending to the cows and chickens was a daily chore, but it wasn't too bad! But sometimes, accidents happen. Sometimes you get accidentally kicked pretty hard by your cows. Y'know, it happens, right?

• Penny made her way home after working with the kids, waltzing into the cabin with a spring in her step. She didn't see you out on the farm, so she assumed you'd be home. She was surprised to see you not in the cabin, so she glanced back outside. She tilted her head, wondering where you could be. Well, in the meantime, she could go say hi to the cows! She loves the animals on the farm, and she can't wait to see them. She didn't expect to see you knocked out against the wall of the barn …

• Fight or flight mode kicked in on Penny. She stared at you for a moment, analyzing your breathing. You were alive, probably not too badly hurt, but definitely passed out. She shook off the panic, trying her hardest to push through despite the tears pricking at her eyes. She tried to shake you awake, but nothing. She knew she couldn't get you to Harvey's by herself ... so, she had to bring Harvey to you! She ran at full speed down to Harvey's, begging him to come visit the farm for you. She brought him to you, and he checked up on you in the barn. Penny sat right by your side as you woke up.

• “Love, I'm so glad you're awake! You had me so worried, I didn't know what had happened! I-I ... God, I'm so glad you're okay ... did one of the cows hit you, or something? ... hmm, I didn't expect that, that's really weird ... but, I will be right by your side until you feel better! Harvey said you had a broken rib, so I'll be taking care of everything that I can for you! ... just rest up for me, okay?”

• Penny stayed by your side for your entire recovery, helping you with anything you could ever need. You're so important to her, and it shows through every action. She would drop on her hands and knees for you if you asked. She cares so much for you, and she wouldn't dare put you in any discomfort! Penny is an incredibly devout wife.