#sam being broken

[selkiesongss]

this has definitely already been said but god danielle's face card is LETHAL

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 232

Once more thinkin of These Series of AU/Prompts, where the Class pulls a Tiamat. Becomes Giant Hydra Dragon. But with some inspiration from @radiance1's Blob King AUs. Specifically also the dragon ones.

Now, the nine of them are admittedly far older than they once were. Far older than most of the people outside the cage they were tricked into all those years before, exhaustion seeping into their bones as their ectoplasm was siphoned away.

Yet no matter how much the GIW drains away- if they're even called as such anymore- they never run out. If anything, at least from what they've noticed, unable to do much of anything else in this pit, this tank of green and red, they seem to be making more.

Their recollection of being separate, of having separate bodies have long since slipped away in exchange for keeping memories of their families and friends long gone now. Perhaps they're in the zone, as ghosts, but perhaps not.

Days feel like both seconds and years, words falling away as their Core hums as one. Sometimes a Blob ghost manages to find its way inside- the trap designed not to stop things from getting in, but to prevent them from leaving.

They always disappear whenever the ecto is taken away, not having enough to continue holding on to a physical form. But... the blobs don't stay gone. Their own ecto brings them back, tiny forms almost mimicking their own.

It's something to distract them, something to actually do besides growl at the figures beyond the barriers around them. The blobs don't speak, don't make more than squeaks, but it's something. Almost like dozens of toddlers floating around, becoming more and more draconic in shape with every siphon.

Do their captors realize, they wonder, how they've made them all stronger than they were even before? Do they realize what they've done, creating this loop of ever-growing power?

No, Star giggled, pink and gold scales shimmering as she bobbed her head in amusement, Paulina's darker purples following.

They don't know, Wes agreed, dark amusement echoed by both Sam and Dash, fangs flashing amidst the liquid. The trap would not be able to contain them for much longer, they all knew. They could feel it, how the siphon stuttered with every run.

It wouldn't be long now. They had waited three hundred years for the chance to escape- they could wait for a few days more.

...

Though they won't complain about an early prison break if those alarms are anything to go by.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 3 Part 2

Happy WIP Wednesday. Bring Me Home won last week's poll. But it was a close one! If you want a say in what I post next week, be sure to vote in this week's poll. ^.^

Story Summary: Danny's parents find out his secret. It doesn't go well. But he's not alone. His friend Tim Drake, better known as Red Robin, and the Young Justice will not let him suffer.

We switch to Tim's POV for this part.

Warnings: Aftermath of torture

Arc 1: AO3

Arc 2: First, Last

Previous

Word Count: 1.7k

-----

The instant Kon got the door to the lab open, Tim sprinted down the stairs. The first thing he saw was Jack and Maddie standing over a table, green ectoplasm, blood covering everything.

Then his eyes fixed on Danny. Danny, cut open and bleeding with a muzzle on while his parents looked at his insides.

He rushed forward, tackling Maddie and tearing her away from Danny. She screamed and fought back, landing one punch before Tim kicked her back a step. Then he pulled out his staff and landed a hard blow across her chest, forcing her further back.

Next to him, Cassie was taking care of Jack. He exchanged a quick glance with her and the two began herding the pair towards the wall. Away from Danny.

Behind him, Tim could hear Sam call out for Kon then a cry of pain.

“He’s still alive!” called out Kon. “I can hear both his core and heart.”

Tim couldn’t relax. Alive didn’t mean much. He put more force on his next swing of his staff, aiming for Maddie’s shoulder. But she ducked and twisted just right to get under the swing and move closer.

She slashed back with a scalpel, one still covered in Danny’s blood. Tim growled as he blocked it with his arm, the armor of his suit preventing it from reaching skin. He swung his staff again, getting her in the side hard then jerking up to hit her in the armpit.

He smiled in satisfaction when he dislocated her shoulder, causing her to drop the scalpel.

“You’ve got this all wrong!” she protested as she held her shoulder. “Jack and I are the good guys here. The ghosts, they’re all evil!”

Tim snarled. “The only evil I see here are the two so-called scientists who were torturing their own son!”

Maddie tensed at his words. “Don’t you dare say that. I’m trying to save my son from the monster that took his body.”

Tim swung again, aiming for her feet. Already distracted by the pain in her shoulder, the hit landed and she fell. He hit again and he felt her ankle break. Good, she wouldn’t be getting away.

“Why don’t you just shut the fuck up,” growled Tim.

Jack landed on the ground next to his wife, taken out by a punch from Cassie. Tim took the time to swing at him, too.

Again and again and again, he brought his staff down on them. Not stopping as they cried out in pain or as he felt more bones break under his blows. Until the time when he tried to swing down, but his staff refused to move.

He spun around, scowling, to come face to face with Cassie who had his staff firmly in her own grip.

“That’s enough, Rob. They’re down and they won’t be moving. Impulse and I will make sure of it. You need to go with the others.”

Behind her, Tim could see Sam fussing over Danny, still on the table. Bart and Tucker were at the computers trying to download as much information as they could. And Kon was staring right at him.

“Transport?” asked Tim.

Kon pulled out his phone to check. “Just arrived. Let’s go, Rob.”

Tim nodded. “Fine.” To Cassie, he said, “I want them in custody.”

She nodded. “Obviously. We all do. Impulse, Tucker, and I will take care of things here.”

“Then let’s go.” Tim stalked away from Jack and Maddie, refusing to look back. He wasn’t sure he could stop a second time.

Someone must have found a blanket and gotten it under Danny. All Kon had to do was touch the blanket, and it lifted up. Danny was held completely straight in the make-shift stretcher as Kon single-handedly used his TTK to carry him, Sam leading the way out of the lab.

The doors opened for them on the way out, Kon’s TTK again. And sure enough there by the curb was a nondescript van, engine still running.

Jazz got out the driver’s seat the instant Kon appeared in the doorway to open the back of the van.

“Bring him in here! I’ve got a bed set up,” she said.

Kon, of course, went first. But Tim and Sam were only steps behind him. Inside the van, the bench on one side had been fitted with a futon mattress to form a makeshift bed. Overhead, lights had been fitted to make sure the area was bright enough to see. Kon carefully laid Danny down then backed up so Sam and Jazz could move in.

“Keys are in the ignition,” said Jazz. “Get us away from the house, then let Sam and I patch him up.”

“You’ve got it,” said Kon who took his spot behind the wheel.

Tim shut the doors to the van and stood against the opposite side of the van. This was his first good look at Danny.

His friend was still in his Phantom form, but his jumpsuit had been torn and peeled away from his body. His chest was covered in so much blood he could barely see the wound, but the tell-tale y-incision was unmistakable.

Jazz and Sam were carefully wiping away the blood as best they could, using towels that had been neatly stacked in a box next to the cot.

Tim looked around until he saw an empty bucket. He pushed it towards the two girls. “Put the dirty ones in here.”

Kon pulled away from the Fenton house, aiming for their local out-of-town-limits rendezvous spot. “I can keep Danny from being jostled by the road. Don’t know if I can do the same for the rest of you if you’re moving, though.”

“Let’s not test it right now,” said Tim. “But we will be practicing that later. Never know when we might need it again.”

Jazz dropped her first towel and grabbed another. Her hands were shaking.

Tim knelt by her side and placed a hand on her wrist. “Let me. Right now we’re just trying to hold him together and I can do that as well as you can. He’s going to be just fine, I’ll make sure of it.”

“But I’m the one who trained with Frostbite.” Her voice cracked on a sob.

Tim grabbed the towel from her hands and used it to put pressure on Danny’s wound. “And I don’t need specialized training for this part of it.”

Jazz hesitated a moment longer, but with a last look at her brother, she spun and ran to the other side of the van. Tim listened to her muffled cries as he held the towel to Danny’s chest.

Sam shifted until their shoulders were pressed together and he leaned slightly into the touch. Neither said anything.

Soon enough, Kon was pulling off the road and the van came to a stop. The instant it did, Jazz was pushing her way into his place, two boxes in her hand. She opened one to reveal a large first aid kit, as well stocked as anything he had in his most-used safe house.

Tim took up a position at the foot of the bench and pulled out a small camera he had in his belt. He took careful pictures of all the visible wounds. Kon came up besides him and put an arm around his shoulder.

Jazz opened the second case, letting out a hiss of cold air and frost. Without hesitating, she put on two heavy duty gloves and lifted out what looked to be an ice cube.

Sam, meanwhile, was measuring out enough glowing green thread to cover Danny’s wound. Tim took another picture.

Jazz placed four ice cubes into the injury—one at the end of each cut and one where the lines intersected. Then Sam laid the thread over the wound. She muttered something and it phased into Danny’s skin without the use of a needle and pulled the injury together.

The glow faded slightly and if he didn’t know better, Tim would’ve thought they were regular stitches.

From there, they focused on cleaning off the remaining blood. The van was mostly silent—Sam and Jazz only communicating the bare minimum necessary to care for Danny. Even Tim’s camera was entirely silent, designed as it was for stealth.

As Danny was wiped clean, more and more injuries were revealed. Only years of bat training kept Tim standing and taking pictures. But his grip on the camera was much tighter than it needed to be. Kon’s fingers were digging into his shoulder almost painfully, but Tim didn’t say anything. Sam and Jazz were forcibly holding themselves together, but the odd hitch in their breath or tremble in their fingers gave them away, too.

A nasty burn spanning Danny’s left side was revealed. Tim clicked the camera, and Sam applied an ectoplasm-based ointment to it. Then Jazz covered the injury with a bandage.

The process was repeated time and again for each injury they discovered. But eventually, all the wounds were tended to. Once Jazz did a final look, she nodded with grim satisfaction.

“Superboy, could you use your powers to wrap his chest?”

“Of course!” Kon left Tim’s side to grab a roll of gauze and took up his own place at Danny’s side. All he had to do, though, was place the roll on the bed and his powers took care of everything else.

Tim wished he could do something half so useful. Next time Danny managed to get to the Realms, he was so joining him and getting his own lessons directly from Frostbite.

“Just one more thing to do,” said Jazz. She reached into the first aid kit and pulled out a small box. Inside sat a syringe filled with ectoplasm. She jammed it into Danny’s thigh and pressed the plunger.

Danny’s eyes flew opened and he let out a yell as his back arched off the bed.

Sam was already hovering over him. “Danny? How are you feeling?”

Danny panted for breath, but looked at her with a wry smile. “Pretty much the worse I’ve ever felt.” He looked from Sam to Jazz to Kon before meeting Tim’s eyes. “You came.”

“I always will,” said Tim.

-----

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I'm not an expert on emergency medicine, so I figured why not go the magical route?

Tim wishes he could help in a more hands-on way, but documenting injuries is important if you want to bring them up in court. No one knows yet if Danny will want that, but this way they have them in case they're necessary.

Tucker, Bart, and Cassie are remaining behind to bring the Fentons to JL holding cells. Tucker is the one who knows the Fenton computers best after Danny, after all.

All ready we can see some major changes from my original version. What else will change? And, more importantly, what will stay the same?

[htsucc]

finally getting around to that poll hart

[starheirxero]

A guy will spend years in isolation and STILL be just as snarky and smug as the day he left!!!!

[deconstructthesoup]

If there's anything that Misfits and Magic season 2 has taught me, it's that Sam Bulter is the most incredible character ever and I should have been giving her more attention and credit all along because holy shit

[charlottenewtons]

Gothic incest: Gender, sexuality and transgression by Jenny DiPlacidi // Supernatural - 4.03 In the Beginning

[angelsdean]

once again, thee only time dean is reckless with Baby is when he's fucking staring at cas for five minutes straight while driving

[s0fter-sin]

what up it's been 12 years and i'm still pissed there was no consequence to dean being in constant survival mode and fighting 24/7 in purgatory

what do you mean he didn't become a god at hand to hand combat? what do you mean he could still be jumped by random ass demons?

he was - at best - in a constant in-between state meaning he didn't get hungry or tired but that also means he didn’t sleep for a year and was constantly being hunted by hundreds of thousands of monsters that want to eat him specifically, while actively searching for cas

OR he was in a completely normal state meaning he was constantly fighting starvation and exhaustion while all of that was still happening!! it's not like there's much to scavenge in monster heaven!! he would’ve been on the verge of dying for a year!!!

then he comes back and he's just exactly the same? the same level of fighting skill he's always had? if not slightly worse for some reason?? what do you mean he couldn't kill anything he came across with his eyes closed when it's what he's been doing EVERY DAY FOR A YEAR???

it's always been one of the flaws of a show running for so long that after like s6 they never seemed to be getting better? they still got the shit kicked out of them by demons and ghosts and what have you and instead of finding obscure rituals they just got A Better Gun™️

both sam and dean are the peak of what hunters can be; they've been trained to hunt and kill things bigger and stronger than them since they were children, so what do you mean they still get the shit kicked out of them so often? was it just to show how strong monsters are? that even with their level of experience and skill, they're still outmatched?

(or do you just need a way to keep up the tension cough cough what who said that)

but you can't have dean who's been trained to be an elite soldier Since He Was Four Years Old go into a 360 combat scenario for an entire year - a good chunk of which he was completely by himself - then say he didn't improve his combat skills At All

and not even just combat, his senses would've been off the charts!! there was nothing but ambient forest noise and growling, his hearing would've gotten so sharp, it was darker so his night vision would ve been insane and he should've been able to feel a monster coming a mile away after constantly being on guard

post purgatory dean had the opportunity to be a completely different beast to anything we'd ever seen before, to be a completely different kind of traumatised from all of his other trauma

hell broke him but purgatory should've broken and rebuilt him into something Terrifying

[haveihitanerve]

Sam: *sick* oh look at me, I’m a super soldier with perfect health and a fast metabolism and super strength so I don’t have to work out or try at all! Peter:… I just asked if you wanted soup Bucky: relax Samuel  Sam: oh fuck both of you so much

[sempiosoysauce]

when they said this was the mindfuck season they really meant it huh

[phoenixcatch7]

Every so often I dip into transformers fanfic (specifically bayverse) just because the concept of giant shape-shifting mechanical immortal robots just slaps so hard. All of the fics get so close but never quite scratch the itch I want, so here.

Cybertronian Sam Witwicky, vessel of the Allspark

A seeker, naturally, but I haven't decided on alts yet. Or a name (I like Rubicon, because of the doorway/point of no return/on a knifes edge between two worlds meaning and.. Also because the Allspark kinda looks like a rubics cube lmao)(but it doesn't sound quite right and I'd like to lean more into the idea of sacrifice maybe?)(or maybe something celestial or mythical for the space/alien/spark=stars metaphor... Apollo?).

I haven't seen it done, but I really like the idea of the Allspark using its own material to create the cybertronian body, given the total lack of actual resources it has (and needs). This would give Sam a very unique bronze/gold protoform instead of the usual grey/black metal, and eyes/optics the colour of sparks. The feather horn things were meant to be a lot smaller, but that was the smallest they got! And idk, I've grown to like them. A little nod to his organic origins. And the circles are supposed to be extra eyes. The boots I was delighted to find, they blend so well with the body and make it look like he's not bare lol. Because hero forge isn't quite that free with design (yet), please imagine a couple wheels by his ankles he can drop down to rollerblade on.

I had a ton of fun with the colours, I think it's my best one from scratch yet! It was so hard to keep from adding too much detail or clothing, and I did struggle with the sheer bulk of a typical cybertronian build. The pauldrons and scarf help with that, but he's intended to be pretty slight compared to the average anyway. In every continuity they're so, so bulky ToT. I might tinker with the proportions now I've finished the model! The spear... Well I'm a sucker for staffs, but it's not a cybertronian weapon unless it can slice or shoot something, preferably while transforming into something else. This one is also a laser gun, very energy intensive if you're not hooked into an infinite power source lmao. He's got a few emergency cannons in his arms, because... Why not?

Man, now I've made him, I want to write something for him so much... Must resist, must resist...

[soullessjack]

ive had a Lot of thoughts about the body horror aspects of jack but the one that sticks with me the absolute most is his blood. like when sam banishes the angels from the holding cell in 13x01. ack’s veins light up gold. his blood is physically being burned from the sigil’s banishing effects and it actually causes pain to jack.

or nick’s resurrection ritual from game night that needed jacks own blood as an ingredient—and the implication alone that any of jack’s genetic components can bring Lucifer back—when he sets a nosebleed stain of it on fire several miles away, jack can physically feel it burning in his veins again.

when jack is constantly puking blood and bleeding from his nose it’s a result of total systemic failure that he’s suffering specifically because the very cells that make up his whole body are falling apart and destroying each other, because he is something that physically should not exist.

the fact that he physically and genetically cannot be normal or separated from his other half, that any sort of ritual or magic against angels causes him physical pain, that he will always at his core be tied back to Lucifer no matter how independent he tries or wants to be, that he can’t even survive without the very part of him that is essentially seen/treated as a dormant evil rabies infection, is an Insane thing to add to a character.

[h-didanart]

Hey guys, remember that trio of Bloodmoons I made some time ago that were alternate versions of my three main guys that lost their twins? Yeah well I thought their timelines through a little

This post will be dedicated to Alternate Harvest Crescent Celestial (I have yet to come up with a nickname for them (or any of the three really))

The main physical differences with the canon one are the pins//daggers in her hat’s fluff, the scratched up skirt (which is the same style as Hunter’s was), the boots, the bandages along her right arm, and the scratched off paint under her left eye.

Unlike the other two (three if Original//Lone! Is counted), Harvest actually saw her twin die. She often wishes she hadn’t.

Due to Queso being the one around them the most, Harvest gets extremely attached to him, which leaves her a bit conflicted because Queso needs to apologize for how he treated both of the twins, being their creator and all, and Harvest is aware that he changed and all, but, well, trust is a hard thing to build for them. Still, even with a noticeable lack of trust, Harvest is extremely overprotective over their brother, and whole family really, she will threaten, stalk, cling onto, anything to make sure they are all safe. And no, she does not show this level of care towards themselves.

As for being in the vicinity of their canon selves…

They immediately cling onto Hunter, naturally. She’s aware this isn’t her sibling, but that is not going to stop her from being right next to them 24/7 to make sure they are safe.

Hunter doesn’t like that, he doesn’t like Alternate Harvest much really, in fact they kinda freak him out, but they just won’t leave him alone!

Canon Harvest is freaked out by them too, and straight up snatches her twin away from them. A bit of a confrontation ensues.

And in comes an aspect that for the moment only two of these Bloodmoons have, a parallel.

Having gone through what they did, Alt Harvest is overly cautious and paranoid over everything, a thing that’s really not good, at least in most situations. And while Harvest and Hunter are, understandably, not taking her seriously, there’ll come a moment in their future where they’ll face a similar situation. And only they can affect who gets out of that alive.

Incoming writing, tw for character death and injuries.

And this part should’ve gone up there in the ‘right after the twin’s death’ section however I wanted to be fair to anyone who’d just want angsty lore and not pure concentrated angst. So, I present to you, 27th of October 2023…

They both had been fighting. After months of being static, months of being apart, their first physical contact was fighting. And not a friendly fight, no. This was bloodshed.

Hunter was clearly not in control, that rabid glitch he had developed having taken over him for the most part. And Harvest was struggling, her balance and concentration had been affected by a glitch of her own, same one which dulled her emotions.

She could’ve pinned him down eventually, trapped him using the place’s rubble and cables, stalled long enough so KC and the others could break the door down. They weren’t able to.

The floor gave out.

Why did they have to choose to teleport him right over the sinkhole?

No matter, Harvest was able to hold onto the ledge and hold onto their brother as well. And he held on too, still attacking her, and biting, and scratching, but that was fine, she’d deal with that later.

Even when they felt their grip to the ledge shake, they didn’t once think they wouldn’t make it. Even as they felt their arm being torn bit by bit, they still wanted to think there was a way out of this. And really, if they did fall they’d fall together, so that was also fine. For Harvest.

Hunter had a different view. But with the glitch taking over them they couldn’t exactly voice it out, nor could Harvest get it. They knew they were going to fall, and they knew there was one thing they could do about it. If he could just take control for a second…

It had been bad luck really.

The glitch getting so bad, the floor crumbling, them being ripped apart from one another in the first place…

It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair they had been separated. It wasn’t fair they had to fight. It wasn’t fair she saw the small smile as he let go.

It wasn’t fair.

He never was reunited with his true family, he never fixed the damaged bridges between them all.

And it’s not fair.

And as she stares at her living family sleep, claws clutched around a metal pipe, she knows it’s not fair that she was unable to do anything.

She couldn’t save him. And it wasn’t fair.

[earl-grey-crow]

"I'm...I'm alive. I'm okay" I heard your voice crack jacob

[madigoround]

I just watched a quiet place day one for the first time thinking it would just be like a thriller/suspense and no one told me how steeped this movie is in guttural emotion. I’m over here crying over this monster movie and the display of true human emotion and tragedy and love it shows as if I haven’t seen a million apocalypse movies