OnAHiatus

(TSSFH) CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE - EIDOLON

Eidolon hovered above the shattered rooftops of Brockton Bay, his silhouette outlined by the dimming sky. His cape snapped in the coastal wind, but he remained still, eyes locked on the figure below. Hidden by light-warping illusions and spatial distortions, he watched unseen. Not out of fear, he told himself—never fear. Just prudence.

Below, in the cratered asphalt of what used to be Winslow High’s parking lot, stood the man.

Superman.

Red cape. Blue suit. The symbol. 2025-05-02 11:35:23 +0000 UTC View Post

(LIMITLESS) CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: ECHOES

The hallway to the private meeting room felt longer than it should’ve.

Too sterile. Too quiet.

The rhythmic staccato of her footsteps rang off the tile, echoing like it didn’t belong. Like she was trespassing in her own life.

 A uniformed PRT agent nodded as she passed. They didn’t speak. She didn’t look up.

The door at the end of the hall was labeled simply: Interview Room 3B.

Private. Secured. 

Her hand hovered over the knob. Her forcefi...

(THO) CHAPTER TWELVE

The room was dark, cold, and quiet.

Just the way Thomas Calvert preferred it.

No windows. No clocks. Only the whirr of the ventilators recycling the air. 

One screen showed a high-angle view of an empty street near the Docks—colorless and grainy, bathed in the flicker of broken streetlights. Another monitor showed nothing at all.

Just static. Lines. Feedback.

That was the one he kept coming back to.

The one that never worked. The one that should have...

(ITB) ISSUE #2: UNEASY ALLIANCE

Miles didn’t know what else to do.

He didn’t know where he was. He didn’t know how to get back. He didn’t even know what time it was, or if time even moved the same way here—his phone had no signal, and the skyline looked like it hadn’t seen a clean lightbulb in twenty years.

And more than anything, he didn’t want to sleep on a sidewalk.

So he followed her.

That didn't mean he liked following people.

He’d done it before—on patrol, shadowing croo...

(ITB) ISSUE #1: COLLISION COURSE

The world glitched.

It wasn’t the dramatic kind—no sparks, no thunder, no collapsing buildings. Just wrongness. Like stepping off a curb you didn’t know was there, only to find gravity worked differently.

One second, Miles Morales was hurtling through dimensional space, chased by a kaleidoscope of color and glitching geometry. The next, the glowing multiversal gateway twisted—once, twice—and spat him out like a bad thought.

The city below was not New York.

He...

(OPB) APPLICATION DENIED (AGAIN)

Taylor sat in the PRT lobby, legs crossed, hands in her hoodie pocket, staring at the "Heroes of Tomorrow!" poster like it personally owed her money.

Across from her, a receptionist whispered into a headset.

"Yes, she's here again. No, she hasn’t punched anything. Yet."

A few minutes later, Director Emily Piggot stormed into the lobby like a woman trying very hard not to scream. She was holding a coffee cup that absolutely did not smell like coffee.

“You want to re...

(LIMITLESS) CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: ASHES

The room lights were dimmed to their lowest setting, but Taylor barely noticed. She sat rigid on the narrow bed the PRT had assigned her, staring blankly at the muted glow of the television mounted high in the corner.

The screen cycled the same footage on loop: ash-blackened wreckage, the broken skeleton of what had once been a gym, charred walls crumbling under the weight of the fire’s destruction.

"Suspected gang violence," the news anchor droned, voice too polished, too detac...

ANNOUNCEMENT

My uncle just died. I’m really sorry, guys, but I’ll be taking some time off from updating/posting. I’ll be back sometime next week and updates will return as normal. Sorry again. Hope you understand.

ANNOUNCEMENT

Just a heads-up: my uncle is currently suffering from kidney failure, and the prognosis isn’t looking good. Updates to the stories will still happen, but they may come a bit later than usual—or be shorter than usual—as I need to be there for my mum. We’ve lost a lot of family and friends in recent years, and I’m worried about how she’ll handle this one.

Thank you for understanding.

(OPB) TAYLOR VS LUNG

Taylor stood on the rooftop, watching the chaos below like a bored student at a school play. Fire. Screaming. The occasional dramatic slow-mo leap. Just another Thursday night in Brockton Bay really.

Down on the street, Lung roared, scales sliding into place as he loomed over the flaming husk of a car. A group in costumes scrambled for cover while civilians fled, hands over their heads and mouths open in screams. One kid tripped and faceplanted directly in front of the world’s angries...

(LIMITLESS) CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: SWEAR

The knock at her door was too soft.

Taylor stirred on her cot, blinking up at the ceiling as the familiar sounds of the PRT headquarters settled around her—fluorescent lights, recirculated air, the dull electric pulse of security systems—like a second skin that never quite fit.

It was too early for training and she wasn't cleared for patrol yet, so why…?

Weird. 

She sat up slowly, rubbing at her eyes.

The door creaked open.

Miss Militia stood in ...

(THO) CHAPTER ELEVEN

Gojo stood at the edge of the boardwalk promenade, coat fluttering in the sea breeze, the scent of salt and rust curling through the air.

He wasn’t here for anything in particular.

Just watching.

A brief moment of stillness—rare, but not unwelcome.

In a world that didn’t know what to do with him, these pauses mattered more than they should.

Then came a voice.

“Mind if I join you?”

Male. Smooth. Practiced. A kind of professional polish that h...

INTERLUDE: THE ART OF LETTING PEOPLE IN

The mission had ended without bloodshed.

That should have felt like a victory.

The mayor was alive. The League of Shadows had been pushed back, their infiltration quickly and quietly dismantled. Whatever whispers filtered out to the press were quickly swallowed by Gotham’s ability to forget. A few guests murmured about strange noises, a momentary flicker in the lights, but the official story—a security drill misfire—held.

The city moved on the way it always did.

...

BALD GIRL BEGINS

Taylor Hebert was done.

Done being shoved into lockers.

Done with spoiled lunches.

Done with teachers who thought "teenage girls just have rough friendships sometimes."

So she turned to the internet, like any desperate teenager would.

And there, buried deep in a conspiracy forum about shadow organizations and different worlds—where someone like Void Cowboy frequented—she found The Routine.

"100 push-ups. 100 sit-ups. 100 squats. 10km run. Every day." 2025-04-22 20:21:09 +0000 UTC View Post

INTERLUDE: COIL’S DISAPPOINTMENT

Coil’s lips curled into the barest hint of a snarl. “So she’s chosen the illusion of safety. A government leash.” He leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing behind the mask. “Pity.”

With a single press of his gloved finger, the screen cut to black.

He sat in silence for a moment longer, the whir of machinery and his soft breaths the only sound in the room. Then he reached for the secure line, fingers gliding over the encrypted interface before he brought it to his ear...

CHAPTER TWENTY: THE DECISION

The sun hadn’t risen yet, but the horizon had already begun to pale. The streets were quiet, muffled in that in-between hour when the city hadn’t quite woken and the night hadn’t fully let go. Taylor stood across the street from her house.

She hadn’t been here in weeks.

The burner phone in her hand felt heavier than it should as she stared down at the screen, thumb hovering over the “call” button next to her father’s name. Danny Hebert.

She’d already typed th...

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX: PART OF THE TEAM

A box was waiting for her.

It sat on the table beside the weapons rack, matte black and unmarked. Unassuming. 

Taylor hesitated before moving, her boots making no sound on the stone floor as she crossed to it. The others gave her space. No one spoke.

Batman stood off to the side too, arms crossed. Watching. Waiting.

She opened the box.

The suit inside was unlike anything she’d worn since coming to Earth—almost minimalist in design and streamlined. Matte ...

CHAPTER TEN

Gojo sat cross-legged on the edge of a skyscraper, the night air tugging at his coat and hair. Below him, Brockton Bay lights flickered unevenly. Sirens rose and fell in the distance. Even the stars above seemed dimmer, as if they couldn’t be bothered to shine on a city like this.

He wasn’t blindfolded tonight.

His Six Eyes shimmered in the dark, glinting with the kind of clarity no one else could bear. They mapped everything—every crack in the city’s foundation, every hin...

CHAPTER NINE

The conference room in the Brockton Bay PRT headquarters was uncomfortably silent.

On the projection screen was a still frame taken from a security drone footage: a tall figure dressed in black, white-haired, and blindfolded. Hands in his pockets. Smiling faintly, like he knew the camera was there, and simply didn’t care.

Director Emily Piggot leaned forward. “You’re certain this is the clearest image we have?”

Armsmaster nodded once, stiffly. “Yes, ma’am. Attemp...

CHAPTER EIGHT

Taylor crouched low on the rooftop, hidden behind a rusted HVAC unit, her bugs sweeping the city block.

ABB foot soldiers below—six of them, armed, jumpy. Not part of the main conflict, or maybe a splinter group, maybe. The kind that slipped through the cracks when the real fight started. Too twitchy to be disciplined, but still willing to show their worth.

Merchants too, by the looks of it. A quick, sloppy gun trade in neutral territory, probably to shore up resources after Squ...

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR - SUPERMAN II

The door hissed shut behind him.

Silence hung, heavy and unbroken, as Superman stood outside Noelle’s chamber. Alexandria stepped beside him again but said nothing.

He glanced at her. “You knew I wouldn’t accept this.”

She met his gaze. “Yes.”

“Then why bring me here?”

“We were hoping you’d understand.” Her voice was soft. “We wanted you to see the cost.”

“The cost of what?” he asked. “Your plans? Your secrets? Your failures?...

CONTESSA UNDERSTANDS

The garden was intentionally overgrown in places, wildflowers spilling across stone paths, lavender bushes buzzing gently with bees. The swing creaked on its rope as a breeze passed through, and somewhere near the old oak, children shrieked in delight.

Fortuna sat on the porch steps, a cup of tea cooling between her hands.

Steve—older now, slower, grayer around the muzzle—lounged in a patch of sunlight beside her. His tail thumped lazily when one of the kids darted past, a blu...

ANNOUNCEMENT

Contessa Doesn’t Understand… and The Brave And The Bug will wrap up this week. In their place, I’m launching two new Naruto/Worm crossover fics:

One stars Taylor Hebert and Kurama, teaming up as a human-Endbringer(ish) duo.

The other features everyone’s favorite pervy sage, Jiraiya himself, tossed into the madness of Earth Bet. (This is open to change though.)

If there’s enough demand, I’m also open to bringing back How Troublesome (a ...

CHAPTER NINETEEN: INFERNO

Lung hit the casino floor like a meteor.

The impact rippled through the structure—floor tiles cracked, glass exploded outward, and plaster fell in sheets from the ceiling. Fire bled from him in waves, climbing hungrily along the walls, the curtains, and across furniture like they were made of oil. 

Taylor didn't blink. 

She stood there, breath tight in her throat, watching as the monster rose from the crater he’d made. Scales rippled across his arms and throat,...

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: VETERANS

The room they gave him wasn’t a cell, but it wasn’t far off, either. The door had no lock on the inside, and the windows overlooked a steril

The room they gave him wasn’t a cell, but it wasn’t far off, either.

The door had no lock on the inside, and the windows overlooked a sterile courtyard boxed in by concrete walls. There was a desk, a twin bed, and a bookshelf someone had made a decent effort to fill with real paperbacks, most of them parodies of dog-eared classics or ...

CHAPTER SEVEN

The smoke hadn’t even finished clearing.

The wreck—what was left of the gutted deathtrap—hissed and sparked where it laid, exhaling steam and oil from ruptured vents and cracked plating. Most of the cape’s gang had either bolted—the ones with working legs and working brains—or been rounded up by Velocity.

Squealer herself was being dragged toward an awaiting PRT van, her smudged makeup streaked with rage and fear. 

Only later did Gojo catch the name. It was ...

CHAPTER SIX

Gojo stood with one hand tucked lazily in his pocket, the other idly adjusting his blindfold, looking down the length of a cracked, weed-choked street.

A dozen gang members were scattered across the block like spilled garbage, all ABB judging by the red-and-green color scheme and the almost desperate frenzy with which they moved. Opposite them, a haphazard convoy of metal-plated monstrosities clanked and hissed.

At the head of the convoy: a vehicle that looked like a city bus had ...

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: OUT AND ABOUT II

Piggot sat at the head of the meeting room table, arms crossed, expression carved from granite. Behind her, a paused frame was projected: gr

Piggot sat at the head of the meeting room table, arms crossed, expression carved from granite.

Behind her, a paused frame was projected: grainy phone footage taken at an angle, but unmistakable, and posted on a popular video-sharing site. Harry, arm outstretched, unleashing a controlled jet of water into a burning, partially collapsed buildi...

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE: LINES WE DRAW

The intel hadn’t been clear, but the implications were.

Taylor crouched at the old terminal in the annex of the Batcave, the one covered in a thin layer of dust and barely touched except for archive pulls and deep data scrapes. The screen blinked in front of her, a bit grainy but legible, the decrypted file running its loop again. Satellite pings. Thermal anomalies. Encrypted chatter coalesced into a list of names.

And one stood out in particular.

The mayor.

Christop...

CONTESSA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND MARRIAGE

The church was small—stone walls, arched windows, a vaulted ceiling with dark wood beams. Outside, the world moved quietly, softened by early afternoon light. Inside, the air held the scent of incense and fresh-cut flowers that Maggie had insisted on, held the scent of old timber, faint incense, and fresh-cut flowers Maggie had insisted on, though Fortuna hadn’t understood their inclusion.

“They don’t serve a function,” Fortuna had said.

“They make it feel more like a ...