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Naruto Becomes Op

OP Absorption

Later that day, Fin was out on his usual scrap run. The safe zone’s edge was a mess of twisted metal and broken concrete, leftovers from when the first Gates opened. He lugged a heavy bag over his shoulder, his boots crunching on gravel. The air smelled like rust and something faintly sour—probably a dead rat or worse. “Yo, Fin! Hurry it up!” his boss, Greg, yelled from the truck parked a hundred yards away. Greg was a squat, sweaty guy who acted like he was king of the scrap heap. “We ain’t got all day!” “Yeah, yeah,” Fin muttered under his breath. He bent down to grab a jagged piece of rebar, his fingers brushing the cold metal. His power kicked in—useless as ever. He could feel every nick and dent in the steel, like it was whispering its boring life story to him. 'Wow, so thrilling,' he thought sarcastically. That’s when he heard it—a low, guttural growl. He froze. His head snapped up, eyes darting around. The safe zone wasn’t *supposed* to have monsters. That’s why it was called safe. But the sound came again, closer this time, from behind a pile of rubble. “Greg?” He called, his voice shaky. “You hear that?” No answer. The truck’s engine roared to life—Greg was bailing. “Fin, move your ass!” the man shouted before peeling out, dust kicking up behind him. “Seriously?!” Fin dropped the rebar and bolted. He wasn’t a runner, but fear made his legs move faster than he thought possible. The growling turned into a snarl, and he risked a glance back. Something big and scaly was charging after him—green skin, claws like kitchen knives, and a mouth full of teeth that didn’t fit right. A monster. A freaking monster.
luthizo · 1.6K Views

Becoming Ellie

Nobody sees Ellie. They see Mason, this awkward, lanky kid who barely speaks. The one who hides under hoodies, head down, trying to blend into walls. They don’t see the girl trapped underneath, the one who’s been screaming into pillows and mirrors for years, begging to be real. Then comes Zoe. Bright, loud, unapologetically queer Zoe—someone who doesn’t give a damn about fitting in. She’s everything Ellie isn’t allowed to be. And in a wild, reckless moment, Ellie tells her truth: "I'm not Mason. I'm Ellie." It’s terrifying and electric—like ripping off a mask that’s melted into your skin. For the first time, someone sees her. Her best friend Jamie doesn’t flinch. Her little sister almost says, “I knew it.” And in stolen moments, Ellie starts to live—tiny rebellions like growing her hair, whispering her name to the mirror, running a secret Instagram where she can just be. Every step is a victory, but every victory has a price. Her father’s rage is a thunderstorm—loud, blinding, impossible to reason with. Her mother’s tears are quieter but sharper, like glass splinters under her skin. Teachers shrug her off; classmates whisper. Even some friends scatter. When home finally breaks her, Ellie runs. Nowhere to go, but anywhere is better than a house that feels like a prison. Coming out isn't a happy ending; it's a battle. Therapy, support groups, filling out name-change forms while strangers look at her like she’s a freak. Every small victory—being called her real name, the first hormones kicking in, a prom dress that fits—feels like a stolen breath. But it's enough. Enough to keep fighting. Because Ellie isn't just surviving. She's becoming. And that’s something no one—not her father, not her school, not the world—can take from her.
WJ_Constantine · 1.3K Views
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