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car-lozsigns · 1 year ago

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A few minutes more (Pt20)

Synopsis: You and Carlos had crossed paths more than you thought was possible over a short weekend but time was not on your side. A love story that’s about the slow burn and companionship built connection, and how sometimes right place wrong time is the best of the available options

Author Note: Final part is here. So exicted to have this done and the start the next project.

Length:~6.8k

Warnings: Covid again

Previous parts: Link to Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19.

Part 20

Drafting up your resignation letter wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be. You had it ready to go and decided to send it off over the weekend, scheduling in a call with your boss first thing next week. You felt like the hardest part was done and talking through your reasons for the choice with your boss went smoothly. Turned out that the extended time away from the office and spending time with family had not only caused you to reassess your career but your bosses as well.

You had an agreed end date, confirmation of it arriving in your inbox as the work day finished. It didn’t feel real that in a few short weeks you’d have all the time in the world available to you. As the countdown passed for your last day, it was also decreasing in the days left before Carlos’ first race. As timing happened your last day fell after the season opener and would be at earliest able to join in the UK races. Which was better for your nerves as you had never watched one of the races in with him in it by yourself let alone spectated one in person.

You had settled back into a routine with Carlos, albeit him having little time free. The break away from racing had driven him to train harder to ensure he was prepared. That’s at least what he had told you. What you had suspected and had been confirmed as you talked to his mother over the phone was that he was doing this to prove to Ferrari that he was worthy of the team, and he would be an apt replacement for Vettel. The news of his move had been received by the with mixed sentiment. When carlos had told McLaren they were disappointed in his decision. He had been part of the team rebuilding and they saw him firmly cemented in their fortune both him and Lando as the spearhead for bringing the team back to the top. Carlos had however felt he had outgrown the team quicker than anticipated with the technical performance of the McLaren less impressive than his time at Renault and Toro Rosso. The lack of improving team performance made Carlos impatient, spurning his discussions with other teams to see if anything would eventuate. He hadn’t planned on telling McLaren so soon, wanting to tell them after the season had restarted and ideally in person, but when the announcement of Sebastian moving teams breaking to the news earlier than he had thought, it forced his team to react not only with how proud he was to move to Ferrari but how McLaren would be without him and who would be going into that seat to be Lando’s teammate in the upcoming years. In Carlos’ mind it was already a shaky start, even though Ferrari or himself hadn’t been the release of the news.

The messaging and commentary had died down as the days passed, his move overshadowed by Daniel Ricciardo signing to join his old team as his replacement. Thankfully it gave Carlos a reprieve but what hadn’t relaxed was Carlos nerves. It was exasperating in the week leading up to the Austrian Grand Prix, Carlos a tense walking ball of pent up energy that remained until he kissed you goodbye on his way to the airport.

He had promised to call you when he landed and to check in when he could, which you appreciated but knew from how distracted he was at home, he likely wouldn’t remember while away. Carlos’ mother had warned of this, with both father and son dissociating themselves on racing weeks and weekends, their whole mind body and soul dedicated their craft. She had also particularly warned it was worsened when they had something to prove either a podium or the last races of the season, or in this case the season opener. So as the Friday and Saturday of the Austrian Grand Prix passed with only a few words sent from Carlos you weren’t surprised , but left him voice messages wishing him luck, focus and speed, hoping that he could take something from them to help him for the weekend.

As you settled down on the Sunday afternoon for the race, you could see why he limited his messaging. The amount of people rushing across the screen, even with a significant reduction in attendance and work force as the commentators kept reminding you was overwhelming. Everyone was in a hurry and moved with purpose, Carlos zoning out made sense now. Even though Carlos had explained to you the important portions of the race, you found yourself with phone open, googling terms and questions as the race started wanting to make sure you were trying to understand what the smooth British voices were interjecting.

Carlos finished ninth, which you thought was a good effort, however as you searched his face out in the television his expression showed a smile but disappointment in his eyes. You sent him another message which you didn’t get a short response to until the early hours of the morning, you rolling over and immediately going back to sleep after seeing the brief “we will do better next time ❤️”

Carlos stayed with the team in Austria for the second race, being held at the same location. This time you found you understood more, however still heavily relied on searching the language that was used. As Carlos finished ninth again, you again saw his disappointment, constrained in his face, tight shoulders, rigidly held jaw. You were beginning to understand why Carlos was always telling you it was the best and worst job, doing what you loved but with the very high chance of not achieving your goal due to circumstances beyond your control. You could see now how much mental strength it took to build yourself up from an undesired race result, to repeat the process again and again and could appreciate how much of a strain it would take to maintain that determination and optimism .

The third race was in Hungary and it was worse than before. You saw in this race how results could change from strategy or conditions, Carlos being indirectly impacted by other teams as a result of those factors, finishing 9th. To your surprise Carlos called you afterwards. You had expected him to be much the same as the past races, potentially even more withdrawn but this phone call said otherwise.

You saw his name flash in your screen, you even hesitating before answering. Swiping the call open, Carlos had the phone held close to his face, a close up of nose, lips and chin covered in a bright orange mask. Before you could say anything Carlos stage whispered into the screen “I’m finding somewhere quiet to talk give me a second” You couldn’t pick much up from the audio through Carlos’s quick breaths except that the background noise was quietening as he moved further and further away from others. When he pulled the phone away from his face you could see he was were in tiny mostly white room. Carlos pulled his mask away and pushed into his ears some earbuds he had picked up from the bench next to him. He must be in his driver’s room. He propped up the phone and took a step back and started to pace. His driver’s room was small and clinical but smatterings of Carlos personality strewn throughout it: a team photo from last year, the number 55 on the walls in the striped McLaren orange which Carlos insisted was a hue called “papaya”, folded team clothes in a neat pile in a corner, shoes placed underneath for when he changed out of his racing suit.

You started to ask Carlos how the race went but he cut you off with a sigh that was tending more to a poorly stifled groan.

“I miss you” came out of his mouth at a louder volume than you expected. You had thought he was going to go into the race results not this. “I didn’t think it would be this hard being away, it never has been in the past but I keep thinking about how long until I see you next and when I’m coming home.” Carlos looked to you now on the phone screen for answers hoping you would have the solution.

As you opened your mouth, again he continued the train of thought he hadn’t quite finished. “I was talking to my parents and they warned me of this. Warned me that things will change one day and then I will know. I know now what they meant; I understand YN. I get it and I don’t like it, I need you here.”

Ahhh Carlos was homesick.

Your smile littered your voice “I miss you too Carlos , we knew this wouldn’t be simple and it’s an adjustment.” The glower on Carlos face was not supportive. He began pacing again.

“Are you still flying home tomorrow?” You asked. He had given you access to his planner app that tracked his flights so you could feel closer to him during the season. It had been handy when he was too busy to talk but evidently Carlos wanted more.

He nodded and ran his hand through his hair as a knock came to the door. Carlos rushed back to the phone, picked it up so that all you could see was his nose and upper lip and whispered, “I’ve gotta go, bye”.

You thought the call was rushed but was happy you had a chance to at least see him. You opened the flight app and set a timer into your phone so that you would remember to leave home on time to collect him the next day

You had parked in the airport arrivals 30 mins before Carlos’ flight was scheduled to land, you had overestimated how busy traffic would be at 5am on a Monday morning but you couldn’t care less . You had all the time in the world now as this was the first weekday job free, you had more time than what you knew what to do with. Well, at least until Carlos landed which you then planned on being very busy making use of every second until he was in racing mode again.

You had packed a book in the car with you for the wait and sent Carlos and pin location of where you were in the car park so he could find you when he landed . He still hadn’t shared beyond the few he had to who you were, which you were fine with, you enjoyed the anonymity it allowed you. You were going to hold onto it as long as you could and hopefully into the months ahead after attending the races in person. A soft knock on the passenger door alerted you to him being there. You pressed the unlock door button and wound down the passenger window.

Carlos stuck his head into the car “YN, meet Lando”

A shorter younger man side stepped out from behind Carlos, opening up the back door and throwing his bag and himself into the car before you could register what was happening.

“Morning YN, I’d love to say I’ve heard so much about you but if I’m being honest Carlos hasn’t mentioned much at all and you know I’m not a liar” Lando paused while Carlos pushed his bags to his feet and closed his door behind him. He lent over the centre console and gave you a kiss and a squeeze of the back of your neck as he pulled you in a little closer.

A soft “awwww” came from the backseat and with it came a wave of self-consciousness, causing you to pull away from deepening the kiss further.

You didn’t remember Carlos telling you his teammate would be joining him, if you had known you might not have driven to the airport in a fluffy dressing gown. You wanted to ask Carlos how Lando tagged along but figured in the car, with his teammate in the backseat was not the place for that conversation.

“So Lando” you started “you work with Carlos, do you know the secret to get him to reply to my messages?” You teased, a red blush spread up Carlos’ neck.

Lando snorted “Don’t take it personally, but he does that to everyone. He is either never on his phone or always on it. Once we were in France last year and he didn’t even realise it was missing for three days, I pranked him by swapping it out with an old Nokia and he didn’t notice they had been swapped as he had thought he just hadn’t packed it when it didn’t ring”

“Lando, come on I’m not that bad” Carlos tried defensively but Lando wasn’t letting up

“Mate, you are. I swear if you hadn’t given me your location I’d never know or hear anything from you til race weekend. You’d be amazing off grid but we just don’t live that life huh” he chuckled as his pun

“I didn’t give you my location” Carlos turned to stare Lando down. “Semantics” Lando replied non plussed by being caught out in him hacking into Carlos’ phone.

You by this point had pulled out from the airport and started driving towards the main highway that took you back into town.

“Lando where am I dropping you” you handed your phone into the back seat unlocked, maps open, indicating he type in his address. It was still early for you, there is no way you’d be able to remember a set of verbal directions at least for another hour.

Lando was surprised that you had trusted him with your phone. Carlos had spun round eyes moving from your phone to Lando’s eyes. His eyes screaming at Lando don’t you dare but Lando was quicker in grabbing your phone than Carlos was in his intercept.

Lando exited maps and took a quick snoop into your social media’s, looking for your account so he could follow. He typed in Carlos’ name and found both his finsta and public account with messages to you sent only from his finsta. Noting down the name he exited the app and put in his address.

“I’m not too far from Carlos maybe only 20 mins away” he handed back the phone which you clipped into the holder focused on the driving. Carlos began talking to you quietly and you adjusted the volume split to have the back speakers louder than the front trying to afford you some privacy.

Lando in the back seat however had started investigating Carlos’ apparently long term girlfriend. He had known that he had started dating you back in January with the only picture posted this year was of him and you just after new year but since then he really hadn’t heard too much. True to his word Carlos never posted on social media so for all he knew it was a weekend away nothing more. Lando searched in your name but everything was private and even then your posted numbers were small so he doubted there would be much there anyways. Every time Lando had tried to bring up who you were in conversation Carlos had deflected. He had thought that maybe you would be at the races so far but Carlos’ tickets had only been his parents for the opening race and all other friends and family ticket filled with other members as directed by the team, not by Carlos. It wasn’t until after Hungary that Lando had an opening.

He had started to make his way to Carlos’ driver room to congratulate him for this third consecutive point finish, hoping to cheer him up as Lando saw Carlos wasn’t happy with the result, but as Carlos entered into the room Lando caught sight of him talking to someone on his phone, screen close to his face. Usually Carlos couldn’t care who saw him on a call, most often it was family and the conversations were in Spanish which afforded him more privacy than most. Working in a British based team had that advantage for Carlos as it was easier for him to speak English than the team to learn Spanish. Carlos’ strange behaviour had caught Lando’s eye. As Carlos closed the door to his driver’s room, Lando rushed into his own room next door, his ear pressed against the adjoining wall. The walls were notoriously thin and from what Lando could gather from Carlos’s groan and tone, he was homesick and that he missed someone and was counting down the time until he was home. Lando had heard enough, he went and knocked on Carlos’ door. As Carlos had opened the door Lando strode in and sat down. “I know, I heard your call, spill everything Carlos” Lando said , voice steely with determination, arms folded across his chest, showing that he was not leaving until he heard the truth.

Lando had gotten Carlos to admit everything. He had listened intently oohing and ahhhing at the right places, Carlos told him about the trip away, what had happened in Spain, you both moving in together and you deciding to join him at the races for the remainder of the year.

Lando was smitten with how infatuated Carlos was with you and could see that Carlos had matured and grown while you had been in his life. Wanting to see the proof himself Lando had invited himself along for the car ride, cancelling his airport transfer last minute proving to Carlos without his help he’d be stranded as nothing was open at this time of the day especially with covid still lingering.

As Lando shut the car door behind him after you had dropped him at his place, he called back to Carlos and you “See you at Silverstone YN, you won’t believe on all the fun you’ve been missing” with a wink he turned to his home, leaving you and Carlos for the finally alone.

What Lando had eluded to was what he had begged Carlos to do. Carlos had told Lando about how private you had wanted the relationship to be, helped him plan out how to keep your anonymity. Particularly for Silverstone , a difficult track for privacy due to it being located in an old airfield, as well as being a closed race, hiding amongst the public crowd was not viable. Lando had posited that you stay with his family passing as one of his sisters friends knowing that with the restrictions it would be difficult to pass the lie that you were anything but Carlos’ girlfriend when you would be the only non employee watching the race in his side of the garage. The other option was you spend the weekend cooped up in Carlos’ drivers room watching from the television in there or come out as Carlos’ girlfriend, neither of which Carlos thought were things you wanted.

So Lando and Carlos had agreed that you’d spend the race with Lando’s family for the weekend. Lando had already shared the plan with his sisters who were more than happy to have someone new to join them in mix, especially as Lando was notorious for leaving them to their own devices, it’d be nice for some new company. Lando had gone to the extent of getting the paddock passes sent to his family home where both you and Carlos were invited to stay over the weekend prior to the race. As lovely as Silverstone was as a race track, accommodation was limited, little privacy and unless you felt like camping, trips in and out as a team from further out accommodation is what most people opted to do. Logistically it made sense for both Lando and Carlos to arrive and leave together having the same team schedules, and with it so would you but with Landos’ family.

It was smart planning from Lando’s part , as each time he checked in with his family throughout the weekend, you were looking more relaxed, crease in your brow slightly less pronounced , shoulders lower, arms loving from crossed your chest crossed to at ease by your side. Carlos begged him for information when he saw him as he wasn’t able to just walk in and out of his teammates garage. Lando relished the attention, not that he was jealous, but it was the most open Carlos had been to him in a while and he was enjoying having his friend be himself again. Both Flo and Cisca had taken you under their wings and you had looked like you were enjoying yourself to Lando when he checked in. His sisters confirmed that you weren’t any trouble, aside from asking technical questions which were beyond their remit as supporting sisters.

Lando over the weekend had more success than Carlos, finishing in the points, Lando’s family and you swept up in their festivities. Although Carlos hadn’t competed as well as he’d have liked, as you both debriefed that Sunday evening while getting ready for bed at the Norris’, you could see he was calm. You were calm even though you thought the weekend would be strange being there in person, but it wasn’t. You felt so warmly welcomed by Lando’s family, it was a repeat of how kindly Carlos’s family treated you, you could see why the two guys got along so well, they came from places of similar values. Lando was again correct in saying that staying with his family would help. You and Carlos hadn’t been aware of how much living away from family had taken a toll on you both. Maybe it was the fact of being in the Norris home which was bustling with activity , all siblings back home due to covid. Or maybe it was just knowing that there were others around and you weren’t alone. But that Sunday night as you and Carlos fell asleep in each others arms all cares forgotten, you couldn’t have wished for anything more than what you had in that moment.

At the insistence of Lando and his parents, you and Carlos had extended your stay to cover the 70 anniversary race also held at Silverstone, pushing your time from a few days to just over a week. The Norris’ had plenty of spare rooms which helped with the two of you not feeling like you were intruding too much into the family life, as at th end of the day Carlos and Lando may be friends and teammates but technically also rivals. But that didn’t seem to matter to anyone, it was the more the merrier attitude that greeted you and Carlos fell into place so easily you couldn’t help but do so as well. Similar to the preceding race Lando and his garage were rewarded with another great result, and Carlos again not quite pulling out the performance Lando was. However the next race on the calendar was Spain, Carlos’ home race, where it hopefully there would be success. It would be Carlos’s turn for his garage to be full of family and seeing how that elevated Lando over the course of the race weekends you had hoped Carlos would also reap benefits.

Carlos senior and Reyes were chatting away earlier in the week prior to the Spanish race when Reyes phone lit up. The couple exchanged glances and she answered the video call, your face filling the phone screen from inside Carlos’ home in the UK.

“Reyes I wasn’t sure if you’d be awake but I wanted to ask you something” Reyes moved her phone slightly ensuring that her husband wasn’t accidentally showing in the frame. Carlos senior shifted away as quietly as he could manage but ear pricked to hear the conversation.

“Can Carlos and I come to stay for a few days after Barcelona before Spa? We don’t have to be in Belgium until 26th and I think Carlos would really benefit spending some time with you both in the few days of downtime”

“Of course you can, you can stay right up until the race weekend you know you don’t need to ask, the old home is yours whenever you want to use it, you know that” she winked and she changed the conversation to generally how you were both going , switching between English and Spanish to see if you had been practicing, scolding you slightly as you slowly pieced together sentences, obviously Carlos had not been doing much to help you. As the coffee in her cup went cold and the phone conversation ended, Carlos senior moved back into the kitchen and rested his hands on his wife’s shoulders, rubbing slightly.

“She doesn’t know does she?” Reyes sighed and lifted one of her hands to rest on top of her husbands

“I don’t think so but let’s not spoil the surprise” He kissed his wife on the cheek and pulled the mug from her hand to wash up.

What Carlos had actually planned was for both you to visit his parents before the Spanish grand prix, not after, spending two days in Madrid at the family home before going to Barcelona. And he had kept it secret up until arriving at the airport when Carlos handed you a physical boarding pass which said Madrid.

“Madrid?” You questioned, you had assumed you were flying straight to Barcelona. Carlos smiled as he printed the second ticket off and pushed it into a pocket and said no more as you went through security and waited to board. As your flight landed and you collected your bags, you followed Carlos out to find the hire car, but stopped in your tracks as your saw Carlos embraced by his parents in the arrivals hall.

Of course, if you were both in Madrid Carlos would get his parents to pick him up. Reyes let go of her son and took you in her arms and held tight. You whispered into her ear untucking your hair as to cover your face from the Carlos’s eyes “What’s he planning?” Which Reyes said nothing, as she let go of the embrace she looked at you with her eyes full of knowing, secrets hidden just below the surface. “We will see you both later tonight, we are here to pick up your bags and give you the car” and like clockwork Carlos senior kissed your cheek and lightly loosened your hand on the handle of your luggage, rolling both yours and Carlos’ away with him and his wife going to the exit.

You turned to Carlos who had the keys held loosely in his palm, questioning him “Carlos what are you up to?” Like his mother he said nothing but eyes glinting, “You’ll see” as he kissed you a little deeper than he usually would in public , and took your hand leading you to the door.

You couldn’t place where Carlos was going as you moved further away from the airport, passed through built up residential and the business district, you emerged back in a semi-rural countryside. Not quite remote but removed enough that the houses were spaced further apart for privacy. The scenery began getting hillier and Carlos slowed down looking intently for something out the windscreen. He had not put an address into the navigation system, not even allowing you follow where you were. As you pulled out your phone to see where you were, Carlos reached across and lightly plucked the phone from you hand putting in his pocket just far enough out of your reach that if you tried to grab it back it would definitely distract Carlos from driving. With his work, he couldn’t afford to get into a car accident.

Carlos had found his turn off and the car started climbing up an unpaved track, long disused, vegetation encroaching on the edges making it even narrower than it originally was. Littered with potholes, Carlos crawled the car up the hit, chassis vibrating much more than would be considered comfortable. As Carlos pulled to a stop, surrounding you was a small opening, nothing consequential apart from the road end and cleared area from the native forest that had enclosed you within. You looked across to Carlos but he swiftly exited the car striding over to open your door. He held out his hand in offer, helping you out of the rental. Lights flashing at the locked car, Carlos began to guide you towards the clearing. The area looked like it had been cleared recently, heavy equipment tracks still pressed into the earth. Between the tyre marks where even more footprints, which you both followed. The vacant space covered the crest of the hill and slightly over the other side. Where the footsteps ended were dozens of small saplings planted in rows. It looked like the beginning of an orchard, you had never seen one brand new before, always they were old with gnarled and knotted trees twisting upwards and outwards, branches heavy with years of harvests.

You had felt Carlos’ hand drop from yours, the warm breeze moving over where Carlos’ hand had left a slight dampness. It wasn’t that warm out, not enough to sweat at least.

Turning to Carlos, you saw he had a letter in his hand which he held out to you. The envelope had been used and was bent and soft with how many hands had done the same movement as yours, tugging out the thickly folded papers inside.

You unfurled the wad of pages, and saw that it was a brochure for land for sale. It looked like where you were standing, at least where you had parked looked the same. The page behind was an email thread between Carlos and a name you didn’t recognise. The papers behind that were staples together and was a government form. Scanning over the top you recognised your name next to Carlos’ this time.

Carlos had seen you pause as you read your name. He took a shaky breath in

“It’s ours”

“What’s ours?” Not quite believing what you heard and where your head had jumped to.

“Where we are standing, all this, it’s ours. I put an offer in and it was accepted”

Offer, accepted, so it was a title deed contact that your name was on in your hand.

“Carlos, did you buy this land?” Asking again in a different way to get the answer you wanted.

He had put his hands in his pocket to stop his hands shaking. He pulled them out again wanting to reach to you but self-conscious you would pull them away. Your tone wasn’t angry but it also wasn’t happy enough for him to be certain.

“The day after I signed with Ferrari, I started looking for somewhere to live. I have my apartment in the UK, so do you, a small home in Madrid as well, but they have always been just for me.

He paused wanting you to interject but you didn’t.

“In the Ferrari contract, it’s the first one for a team that doesn’t say where I have to live, for Toro Rosso I had to be near Milton Keyes and McLaren it had to be near the factory too, but I don’t have to stay near Maranello when I start at Ferrari.”

“We were so happy when we were at my parents, but it was never our own. It was borrowed space in borrowed time. But living with you in the UK, I missed it. You missed it, you were not quite as happy back there than you were in the sun by the old home. I hadn’t decided to do anything but then you talked about your career, and you had started to have that sparkle back when talking about the potential options.”

“And I thought, while we both don’t have a plan, why don’t we make a space for our own and figure it out together? I only put the offer in this morning right before we flew out, and if you go to the last page you see that there are two boxes open. If we both sign there it’s ours, we can do whatever we want. The past owners had started to plant lemon trees to try and make this place sell as a hobby farm potential space, and you , we, spent so much time amongst the fruit trees at my parents. I saw it as a sign. So I bought it”

Carlos had slowed his speech, the nervousness hadn’t just trickled in his voice, it was heavy with it. He wanted to build a life with you. It had come up in conversation and but never occurred to you that it was more than light conversation you have about what you’ll be doing in five years, but Carlos was serious. From spending time with Lando’s siblings, his sisters had told you that being invited to races was usually what the drivers did when they were serious with a significant other, it wasn’t something done lightly. It was them showing you off to the world, but to you, not growing up in this world, didn’t grasp the weight of Carlos pulling strings to get you to attend really had and what it implied. So Carlos had tried to do something in a language you could understand. A home, that was a commitment to show you that he wanted you and only you for the future, and not only that, building one from scratch, drawing what you both wanted , together, from nothing, to be only yours and his. You felt a pressure in the back of your throat as what he was asking you to do was registering.

“And YN, with this we can build our life together, YN”

He got down on one knee

He pulled out of his pocket where your phone had been stored, a small white tissue paper wrapped square.

He unfolded it, a thick banded ring in the centre

“Will you choose me to be your husband?”

He had chosen you on that day back in October, and today you were choosing him for the rest of your lives.

“I will always choose you Carlos” you cupped your hands around his with the outstretched ring, Carlos standing up, sliding on the ring, tears welling in both of your eyes. “Then it’s us together, forever mi amor” Carlos said as he scooped you up into his arms twirling you both around to savour the moment for just a few minutes more.

Thank you all for reading this little (long) story, I've loved writing every minute of it. Til the next one xxx

#carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr x you #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz jr x yn #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 imagine #f1 driver x you

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courtforshort15 · 2 years ago

Text

Chapter 3

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem reader

Word Count: 6,200

Summary: It's a Wednesday when the sky quite literally opens up above you. The Battle of New York rages around you, and the only thing that gets you through is the stranger standing next to you. Matthew Murdock is more than he seems, keeping you safe in a city that is literally crumbling around you, and even once the dust settles, his hand is the only thing you don't want to let go of.

Trigger warning: none really, just some references to violence, some ableism

Chapter Index

When you were younger, you'd spend a few weeks at your grandparents house during every summer break.

It was something they always did, taking in all five grandkids for two weeks, letting them run wild and celebrate the end of a successful school year, releasing all the pent up energy that came from nine months of sitting at desks and memorizing various facts and figures and historical dates. It was a win-win-win for all parties involved, really. Parents got to have peace, quiet, and alone time with their spouses; grandparents got a few weeks of spoiling their grandkids rotten; and kids got to spend time with cousins at the lakehouse.

You'd loved it, and it was always extremely difficult to leave, trading open, non-fenced back yards for a cookie-cutter house in the suburbs.

You were an only child, and existed smack dab in the middle of the five cousins with two older and two younger. And before the two older kids had reached their teen years and suddenly thought they were too cool for the younger ones, the five of you would spend countless hours playing hide-n-go seek across the property.

Katie, the oldest, was extremely smart and observant, always seeming to know exactly where each kid had gone when it was her turn to seek, a master in knowing her cousins well and their favorite places for hiding. The game always went fast when it was her turn, quickly and ruthlessly hunting down the younger kids with no sweat.

You were no different than the other kids, usually sticking to the same sorts of places; the types of places you could get in and out of easily, places that were difficult to see into. Dirt crusted on your fingertips and shoved under your fingernails as you hid under the porch, trusting the shadow to keep you hidden. Splinters forcing themselves into the palms of your hands from wrenching open the shed and squeezing yourself against the wood paneling inside, kneeling behind various boxes and tools.

The shadow was home to you in these instances, trusting it to keep you hidden from your cousins, but your habit was well known to all, so it had never lasted long.

Today, darkness was once again keeping you hidden, keeping you away as much as possible from those that would do you harm. Gone were the days of games with your cousins, replaced gradually with the presence of adulthood, and now viciously tossed aside for something that quite literally could keep you out of reach from your family for good. This time, there would be no laughter as Katie or another cousin pulled you from your spot, no giggles to tell you that you lost and it was your turn to seek, no snicker as they remind you you're too predictable.

No. No, not this time.

This time, your reluctant exit will be met with a sight you'll have nightmares about for weeks, and without the childish laughter or your grandmother's voice calling you in for dinner. For once, you're trapped in a sense of darkness that is suffocating. The irony doesn't escape you, being afraid of the dark next to a man who has no choice but to live in it.

The bathroom is eerie with nothing more than a glowing exit sign and a sliver of daylight creeping in from underneath the door, offering a pathetic attempt to provide you with any light. It's not nearly enough to give you a solid visual of the counter and stalls, but you suppose you're not in here for the scenery. It seems odd to you that such a tiny bathroom would even need an exit sign, though you certainly aren’t going to complain. Odder still is the fact that it’s even working when flipping up the light switch had done absolutely nothing.

You suppose you don’t get to be the one to decide what things will work and what won’t work during an alien invasion. It’s beyond your pay grade, apparently.

Both beside you and pressed against you, Matt pants heavily, though it's less from exertion and more from the adrenaline of almost dying, you're sure. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders tightly, and you're incredibly grateful that his strength is holding you up because you're not sure if the muscles in your legs would be able to support you with the way they're trembling. He drops your hand to brace it against the wall behind you, and he shifts so that he leans against it slightly.

He could easily release his hold on you, easily move you so that you're balanced against the wall instead of on him, but he doesn't. Instead, he’s somewhat bracketed you in, large frame angling you so that his back is to the door. Without you noticing, he’s once again placed himself so that he’ll take the full force of whatever could come at the pair of you. And once you’re aware of what he’s done, you move to shift away, not liking the idea of him being the one to take the pain first, but his grip tightens just enough to make it difficult to move.

You don't fight him on it, your frame trembling too hard to have any chance against him.

Matt lets out a loud exhale and leans forward to lay his forehead against the wall, resting it there while his lungs struggle to calm down. You're not doing much better, one of your hands reaching up to cling to his suit jacket, and the shudder that wracks through his body is only mirrored by the one that seethes through yours.

“Are you okay?” You ask quietly once you’ve caught your breath, chest still tighter than you would like, but unable to relax enough to let your breathing settle completely.

“I’m fine,” he whispers, and his voice in your ear is almost as close as it had been when he’d placed himself on top of you when the window had shattered. “Just some cuts, I think. Nothing major. You?”

Your head is nodding before you answer. “Same. My hands and knees are nicked pretty good, but I think that’s the worst of it.” You’re trying to ignore the stinging, you really are, but even in your fear and heightened adrenaline, your palms and knees hurt.

Matt finally pulls himself away and off of the wall and drops his arm from your shoulders, apparently having regained some of his composure, but he doesn’t step away from you, nor does he move enough to keep you from being shielded from the door. He still stands in front of you, though he’s straightened his spine, and somehow he seems both taller and broader than you had originally thought.

“Give me your hand,” he orders suddenly, brow furrowed from what you can see in the low light.

You can't help the confusion that flits across your face, or the way it colors your immediate question. “Why?”

“Just–just give me your left hand,” Matt says again, and though the tone is almost urgent, it’s not necessarily impatient. You consider him for just a moment, curious about why he’s asking, but you ultimately decide you have nothing to lose by placing your hand once again in his. He wastes no time in cradling your hand in his own left hand, and you can’t help but look down as he tentatively brushes a finger across your palm, directly over one of the cuts you’d sustained while clamoring to your feet in a mad rush to get to the bathroom. With a hiss, you try to yank your hand back, but he doesn’t let you, other hand tightening around your wrist.

“This one is going to need stitches,” he says quietly, fingers still running lightly around the cut in question. “It’s pretty deep.”

“How do you even know that?” You ask, hand throbbing in his, palm trying to instinctively curl in and push his fingers away. Matt finally lets go, allowing your hand to slowly pull away from him, and you immediately find yourself cradling it against your chest. Multiple parts of your body sting, including your other hand, but how could he possibly know it’s worse than the other cuts?

Matt’s head tilts in a question you're unsure he even wants to ask, but he does so anyway. “You said you trusted me, right? Did you mean it? Will you…trust me to keep you safe?”

You can’t help but frown at him. There’s not a single inch of your body that doesn’t want to keep clinging to him, to beg him to see this through with you, no matter where the horror of this Wednesday leads you. But the more you think about it, the more you come to understand that it’s not fair to put that on one person, to make your life their responsibility.

“Matt,” you begin slowly, eyes searching his face as best as you can in the limited lighting, this beautiful stranger who had placed your hand in his on that door step before immediately taking control of the situation in an effort to save you both. “That–that’s a lot to put on you. I can’t ask that of you, it’s…it’s not right.”

He’s shaking his head before you finish. “That’s not what I asked. Will you trust me?”

“I–”

“It’s a yes or no question, do you trust–”

“Yes.”

The bathroom is quiet for a moment after you finally answer his question to his satisfaction, even while the sounds you’d rather not think about continue to rage outside. The tile of the bathroom carries the word for just a moment longer, as if the word yes needs to be heard more than once for it to really settle in. It had only been one word, one single syllable, but for some reason, you think the word has never been more heavy, more resolute than anything else you’ve ever said in your life.

You can’t help but think that it’s tied you to the man in front of you more concretely than a rod of steel that's been welded to another, and it’s a tie that will last long after the dust of New York City has settled.

Matt inhales sharply as your lips finish forming the word, and his reaction is immediate. His shoulders square and stiffen, and he takes a sudden step around you, feet carrying him to about a yard away towards the counter you can faintly make out. Confused, you turn your body so that it still angles his, and you see the vague outline of him reaching for something. It’s only a split second before the sound of water trickling out of a facet fills the air. With a small gasp, you take a step towards him, hip bumping into the counter, suddenly desperate for a sip. You move to cup your hands to form some sort of makeshift cup, but the sharp sting in your left palm flares back to life.

His body twists towards yours, and a hand settles on your wrist. “Let me wash my hands, and then I’ll help you clean that cut out.” You wince, but you can’t really argue the idea of trying to clean the cut, especially if it needs stitches like he says. Nodding and sighing hesitantly, you listen as he washes his hands. When he’s done, his hand gently grasps your wrist, and so you reluctantly let your hand be led under the cool water.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers quietly when you hiss and jerk your hand back instinctively, but he doesn’t let go, just helps you hold your hand in place while the water runs over it. The smell of soap hits your nose before he adds it to your hand, and you turn your head away with another wince. He helps you clean your other hand, rubbing soap into the other smaller cuts, before he turns off the water.

You bring your left hand up to you for inspection, sighing when you see in the low light that it’s still bleeding sluggishly. He’s right, you think. It will need stitches.

Nose scrunching up slightly, you glance up at him. “I think…I think I need to wrap it. Can you help me tear a strip off of my shirt?”

“You can use my tie,” he answers instead, quickly removing it from around his neck, the fabric smoothly sliding against the collar of his shirt. A single second later, he’s reaching for your hand again, and you're able to catch a quick glimpse of the tie, barely noticing the blue with flashes of black, as he wraps it around your hand quickly. The fabric is too thick for him to tear, so he tucks the end of the tie underneath the layers. It’s bulky and feels strange, it doesn’t allow you to fold your hand in much, but you’re hopeful it’ll keep things from aggravating it further.

“Thanks,” you whisper, the sound barely traveling.

“You’re welcome.” Matt’s head shifts slightly, the sounds of outside momentarily drawing his attention. The sound startles you, too, having been focused on the man who had been working on your hand so tenderly, and you can’t help the way your heart speeds back up as you're reminded of the death and destruction that's wreaking havoc on the other side of the building's walls. Jumping slightly, you glance up at the man, seeking the face that's managed to bring you comfort in moments of terror, and it just so happens that the light from the exit sign catches the skin of his forehead pretty clearly. Eyes wide, you notice for the first time the large cut just past his hairline, one that has caused a trail of blood to trickle down the side of his face.

“Matt,” you say in rapidly rising concern. “Your head, it–”

“I know,” is all he says, his shoulders vaguely shrugging. “We can take care of it later.”

You shake your head quickly in disagreement. “Uh, no. Let’s take care of it now.”

“It’s not necess–”

“If you’re honestly about to tell me it’s not necessary when you have a giant gash on your head, then you can just find a way to deal with me cleaning it anyway,” you tell him, already moving to turn the water back on. A wad of paper towels are in your hand a second later, and you wet them before he even responds. When you turn back around, Matt’s still directly behind you, hands on his hips.

“Tilt your head down.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m fi–”

You can’t help but snort, despite the situation. “I told you to tilt your head down, Matthew. I let you clean up my hand, and now it’s my turn to clean up your head.”

Instead of tilting his head down, he lifts up his chin and tosses his head back in something resembling defiance, sighing loudly . His shoulders are still stiff, every inch of body seeming untouchable, unwilling to accept help. Normally, you might have kept your distance from a man like this, someone who would fight you every step of the way to have someone take care of them. You’ve dated enough men who were closed off, men who pushed you away when they were hurt or scared, desperate to save face, as if experiencing such emotions made them less.

But this isn’t a man who seems afraid to accept help, but rather one who perhaps believes his pain wasn’t worth the trouble. So, respectfully and as calmly as you can, you take a step further into his space, thread your fingers in his hair as best you are able to, and pull his face down to yours.

He makes a sound of surprise in the back of his throat, but keeps his mouth shut otherwise. Without a word from either one of you, you maneuver your fingers around his glasses and carefully wipe the blood from his face with the wet paper towels, grabbing new ones and wetting them as needed, until his face is as clean as it can be. His face is still hardly lit up in the dark of the bathroom, but you can't help but notice the small winces he makes every time you get closer to the cut, and the tongue that darts out to wet his lips.

Frowning, you grab one last set of paper towels and press it gently to the large cut that stretches an inch or so just past his hairline on the left side of his face, causing hair to be sticky and matted down slightly. He hisses, but unlike you, he stands still while you clean it, and it only lasts a few seconds before you are done.

Outside, the isle of Manhattan continues to collect a large number of gashes and bruises and fatal hits to its infrastructure and population, but nothing is more important in that moment than the man whose face is just a foot from yours.

Eventually, you sigh and take a step back, throwing the bloodied paper towels in the trash can, and Matt straightens, face clear of the blood that had been violently decorating his fair skin.

“Uh…thank you,” he tells you haltingly, shifting somewhat awkwardly. He steps around you, once more settling his body between yours and the door, as if attempting to act as some sort of shield should anything come barging in, before turning back to you.

You shrug lightly, almost helplessly, wishing you could convey the thought that his pain, his body mattered, even as he all but offers himself to go first in the battle that is raging outside. “You did the same for me.”

“Yeah, but—”

Matt doesn’t get to finish his sentence, not when the building suddenly rumbles and shakes, the walls creaking and groaning loudly. The sound is as terrifying as the actual vibrating and trembling of the building, and it causes your heart to drop to the floor.

Once upon a time, you’d lived on the other side of the country in San Francisco. The apartment you’d tried to make home was small and in a gross part of town, but you’d done your best to make it work in a city where the cost of living was almost as bad as New York. You hadn’t stayed long, only a year or so, having moved there for a man you thought was worth the abrupt change at the time. It hadn’t worked out, for multiple reasons, and though you’d learned many lessons about what you wanted and deserved in a relationship, in this moment, you can't help but think that the best lesson you ever learned was what to do in an earthquake.

The collection of sinks to your right sits on top of a counter, but from what you can see in the dim lighting, it's one that doesn’t have anything underneath it, just a few twisting pipes and a stack of unopened paper towels. It’s not a great solution, the pair of you will have to make yourselves as small as possible, but it’s better than nothing should things really start to fall.

Matt had grabbed you and done his best to shield you from the glass, but this was something you perhaps had the leg up on, so you waste no time in yanking him forward and pushing him underneath the counter, making sure his head doesn’t knock against the stone. You’re not standing for much longer, shoving yourself beside him, covering your head with your sliced up hands.

You’re not quite sure how long the building shakes and rumbles, but then again, the rest of the terror-filled moments had seemed to last forever, though in reality it had only been seconds. Matt’s breathing is loud and harsh in your ear, his head not too far from yours, one hand covering his face, the other forcing you further against the wall. You want to struggle against him, want to tell him that he needs to worry about protecting himself, too, but you can’t quite get the words out.

The building lets out a raging groan, shaking the walls loud enough that you can hear books outside crashing to the ground, rattling the glass that is already littered across the floor. With a groan of your own, this one filled with pure terror, you smash your face into your hands as roughly as you can, wishing for nothing more than your death to be a quick one, one that knocks you out hard enough that you just don’t ever resurface from the dark.

It’s incredible how quickly your life flashes behind your eyelids, and you want to laugh at how cliché the whole thing is. Your mind sifts through memory after memory, brief pictures of family members and old friends, thoughts of every heartache and accomplishment. A lifetime of moments all summed into a three second montage, and it leaves you feeling…unfinished.

No, you won’t die here. You’re not done, you can’t be done.

Eyes flashing open, you reach for Matt’s hand, pulling it away from where he’s attempting to cover you as best as he can at the awkward angle, and instead grasp it tightly in yours. His grip is bruising as it locks on, he’s only indication that he’s perhaps as terrified as you. But his fear doesn’t stop him from offering a level of steadiness you hadn’t thought possible in this moment. It’s almost as if he takes the small bit of comfort and determination you had been trying to convey, and somehow manages to return it tenfold.

Earlier, you’d told yourself that you’d met men like him. Men who hold things in for the sake of appearances, not wanting to appear weak, doing their best to come across as impassible and in control.

But you’d been wrong, as he had already shown you. There are no men like Matthew Murdock, and you have a feeling you’ve only scratched his surface.

The shaking suddenly comes to an abrupt end, and you’re left reeling at the sudden quiet that spreads throughout the bookstore. The calm only lasts for a second, though, before the sounds of sirens and explosions creep back in from underneath the door, your moment of peace vanishing as swiftly as a strike of lightning.

The tension seems to drain from your body, but it doesn’t completely disappear. Your head rests against the wall, and you take in deep, gasping breaths, lungs still on edge but slowly regaining their ability to fill up completely rather than being all but frozen in your chest.

“I think…I think it might be over,” Matt says softly after a moment. “Something–something large landed on the building, but I don’t hear anything else.”

Nodding slightly, you squeeze his hand, acknowledging the quick reciprocal action with a small smile you forget he can’t see. “Do you think it’s safe for us to get up?”

Matt’s close enough to you that you can see the way he licks his lips as he pauses, some action he must do when deep in thought. He nods, or tries to seeing as how his head is all but crunched up next to a pipe, but the motion is enough for you to understand what he’s saying. With a shaking breath, you let go of his hand so that you can push a lock of hair behind your ear so that you can see better, and then steel your spine and force yourself to move.

Because you’re the one who sits slightly in front of Matt, the one who had pushed him underneath before clamoring in next to him, you need to get up first before he can join you. You find a way to get on your knees so that you can crawl out, doing your best to avoid putting pressure on your left hand. When your head is clear and runs no risk of banging against the counter, you awkwardly pull yourself to your feet and step to the side so that Matt can come out as well.

His exit from beneath the counter is much smoother than yours, untucking his long legs and standing a split second later, broad frame solid and bold even in the dark. You roll your head back and around, trying to shake out the stiffness that had set in from sitting so awkwardly, even though you hadn’t been underneath the counter for long. Matt does the same, rolling his shoulders as well, grimacing as he does so.

“You alright?” You ask as you fiddle with the hem of your shirt. It had ridden up uncomfortably when you’d dove underneath the sinks, causing the skin to scratch on something.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he replies with a loud sigh. “Hit my head against the wall at some point.”

You can’t help but wince. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he says easily, still sounding slightly out of breath. “Thanks for pushing me under there. I’ve never…I wouldn’t have known–”

The huff of laughter that comes out is less from humor and more from a sense of shock that hasn’t left your body since the second you looked up and saw the sky being slashed open. “I lived in California for a small period of time. Small earthquakes are just a part of life over there.”

From what you can make out in the dark, his face appears to be one of incredulity. “That felt small?”

This time the laugh that comes out is a little more genuine. “Well…no. But you get used to knowing what to do when one happens, even if it’s small. The shaking of the building just…triggered something, I guess.”

“Gotcha,” is all he says in response, placing his hands on his hips. He takes a few more large deep breaths as if trying to orient himself. You move to take a step back, trying to give him the space you think he might need, just in case he needs a moment to reset himself without someone being so close to him. But before you can shift completely away, his hand snatches out and wraps itself around your wrist, halting your movement.

“Trashcan,” he says quickly in explanation, dropping your arm. “Careful, there’s a trashcan right behind you.”

Flushing, you step to the right and then take a step back. “Thanks.”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you watch as he pulls himself together. He’s held it all in pretty well, this man who has somehow become your rock in this. But you see little nicks in his armor, little pieces of damaged steel decorating his form. You can only imagine what a man like him looks like when he falls apart, some sort of wilted frame that only sinks when no one else is looking. You can’t help but be immensely grateful for his strength, but there’s a part of you that wants to be around when he plummets, if for no other reason than to repay him in kind.

You find yourself leaning back against the tile next to the door in sheer exhaustion. “So…what next?”

Matt tilts his head. “As in, what should we do next?”

“I–yes,” you rely, hands twitching at your sides. You can only imagine what the rest of the bookstore looks like, can only imagine what the street directly outside looks like, and you can’t help but think that you’d happily wait inside the bathroom until emergency services came and got you.

But...what if they never did?

You try not to think about New York City being completely wiped out by whatever had come into the atmosphere from the gaping gash that had been ripped open over Stark’s tower. The whole time, you’ve been operating on the assumption that things would end, that Iron Man and god knows who else would be able to fix it. But what if they aren’t able to?

What if…this is just the beginning?

Matt exhales loudly and it pulls you out of your head. “Honestly?”

A garbled laugh gets caught in your throat. “No, I want you to lie to me.”

You’re still standing close enough to see the way his mouth twists into a slight smirk before it drops back into something more grave. “I think…I think we need to leave.”

You wish you could say you were surprised, but you’re really not. And while it certainly doesn’t mean you’re happy about it, you seek to understand his reasoning. "Why? Tell me why you think that. Why do you think we should–"

"I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to stay here," he tells you, and his words are rushed and loud, as if trying to leave no room for argument. "I know what I said about us staying, but I really don’t think it's safe here. Not with the Hulk so nearby."

You can't help the way your eyes widen in alarm. The Hulk had been larger than life, bare feet digging into concrete and glass and God only knows what else on the street outside, muscles rippling in aggression, but he hadn't taken a single step towards you. "Matt, he was fighting them, he was on our side."

He runs an aggravated hand through his dark hair. His fingers catch on the tangled strands, which clearly makes him more irritated, and he drops his hand quickly. But you know that irritation is just a distant cousin of panic, and you can see it lurking on a face that is more expressive than he probably thinks. "Are you from New York?"

"No–"

"But did you hear about what happened in Harlem a few years ago?"

"I–yes."

"Then you know what he's like when he's out of control," he says, his voice suddenly taking on a tone that sounds a little breathless, as if trying to keep some sort of panic at bay. Matt begins pacing in the small bathroom, the dark form of him difficult to trace, though he manages his steps and turns expertly. "He wrecked entire city blocks. It doesn't matter who he was fighting, it was a disaster. Things are only bound to get worse here."

Shaking your head, you try to make sense of what he’s saying. You know what happened, know the destruction Hulk had left behind a few years ago, know the mess and disaster he’s likely causing right at this moment, even if it might not be intentional and might actually be in service to the people of New York. "He protected us. He made eye contact with me and didn't come towards us," you argued, unable to think of much else to say.

"It doesn't matter," he replies tensely as his hands settle on his hips, voice still sharp and pushing back against your objections as hard as he can. "Even if he’s going against them, trying to help people, he’s still in this part of town going after them. And if he’s in this part of town, it means we're still far too close to the action, and we need to leave before things get worse."

Your mind is taking too much time processing the words, and you struggle to breathe through the anxiety. Nails digging into the palm of your hands, or as best as they can with the tie wrapped around your left hand, you stand there quietly for a moment, brain sifting through the situation and doing your best to acknowledge the fear before forcing its way into some sort of clarity.

Yes. Yes…you did need to move.

Fuck.

The idea is terrifying, but so is staying here and doing nothing, just praying that the building won’t collapse on you from the weight of whatever has apparently landed on it.

"Okay," you say, finally relenting and taking a deep breath, nodding your head at the same time. "Yes, let's go. Where to?"

Matt stalls, and it's clear that he had been clearly expecting you to push back again, but the agreement causes him to pause briefly. He rubs at his temples in a sign of anxiety and frustration, though he stops his pacing altogether. You watch as he turns his attention to thinking about where to go, and you wrack your brain, too.

"North. Definitely north."

The words have no sooner left his mouth when your head snaps up, an idea occurring to you. "Do you know where the nearest subway station is? It might be a good place to get to. It might–it might offer some real shelter, something more solid than here. No glass like this."

Matt freezes, as if a light bulb goes off in his head. "That's uh…yes, that's a good idea. There's one on 50th. Just a few blocks north."

"Do you think we'll be sitting ducks down there?"

He seems to think about it, head tilting in consideration before he answers. "We're going to be sitting ducks anywhere. At least there we won't have to worry about anything collapsing or falling on us."

“Ok,” you say with a loud gulp. Your hands twitch at your sides, and your lungs inhale with a full, heavy breath, resigned to leaving the space that’s been a safe haven until now. “I think…I think that might be our best bet. What do you think?”

Matt’s nodding before you even finish speaking, his dark hair momentarily lighting up from the glow of the exit sign. “Yes, I think-I think that’s what we should do. It’s, what? Four blocks north. We should be…we should be able to make that.”

Your feet shuffle on the ground loudly, and you let out an equally loud groan as something else occurs to you, this one not as beneficial as having an idea of where to go. Instead, what’s occurred to you is quite detrimental, and your shoulders sag. His head tilts towards you in question as if he already knows you have something negative to say.

You blow out a loud breath. “Matt, I’m wearing heels.”

He gives a curt nod. “I know.”

How could he…? No matter. Not the time.

Your spine straightens even as you glance down at your feet, hating your shoe choice for the thousandth time that day. “I can’t–I can’t take them off because of glass and everything,” you say quietly. “But we need to move quickly and I don’t know if I’ll be able to in these fucking shoes.”

“But you were able to make it when you ran with me,” he tells you, sounding vaguely curious but mostly concerned. “And when you ran to the apartment stoop.”

“Yes,” you agree, because you had, and you even have the popped blisters and torn skin to prove it. “But that was only a block or so, and with you it was only across the street. But four blocks might be…difficult. It makes me nervous.”

“Ok,” he says with a sigh, lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. His pause is extremely brief, his moment of quick contemplation over before you had realized it had even begun, and he suddenly steps into your space, raising his hands to rest on your shoulders. “We’re going to do the best we can. If you trip, or lose a shoe, we’ll figure it out.”

Your lips twist into a wry, self-deprecating grin. “I wouldn’t blame you if you left and saved yourself.”

The dark frames of his glasses seem to flash in the limited light of the bathroom, his face almost like stone in the way it leaves no room for argument. “You know I wouldn’t do that.”

Your eyes land over his shoulder in some sort of defiance, though you’re not exactly sure in defiance of what. Perhaps it's the idea that someone would find you worthy enough to save. “But still–”

“I’ve been with you and holding your hand since you walked up to me and grabbed it,” he says quietly, and despite the war raging outside, it’s all you can hear. “What makes you think I’d let go now?”

It's exactly what you need to hear, even though your heart can't help but ache again, realizing this man was willing to do whatever he could to help you, possibly to his own detriment. They…don't make men like this anymore.

You'd taken one look at him on that doorstep, eyeing the blind man with some sort of pity, thinking that his odds of survival would be smaller than everyone else's due to his lack of sight and lack of anyone offering to help. You'd dismissed him as a vulnerable person, labeled him as a liability even as you rushed towards him, certain that the right thing to do was help a man who seemed helpless.

But this man isn't a liability, he's your greatest strength, your greatest sense of safety on this random Wednesday, and nothing is going to keep you from linking your fate to his when he’s offering it.

Something settles across his face, some sort of understanding from your silence, and wordlessly he reaches for your hand, links his fingers in yours, and pulls you behind him as he opens up the door and steps into the light.

#matt murdock #daredevil #human disaster matt murdock #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fanfiction #daredevil x fem reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil fanfiction #avengers 2012 #battle of new york #marvel cinematic universe

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magicxc · 1 year ago

Text

Hills and Valleys

Synopsis: Legend has it that Halloween is strictly for the scares. With ghouls and goblins, vampires and werewolves, witches and broomsticks, who could disagree?

However, all this friend group wanted was a little trick or treat. Sprinkle in a few party favors, loud music, and a cabin in the woods, the myth was bound to come true.

Lurking around the corner is danger like never before, eager to bring this night to a bloody finish.

So join these friends as they fight to make it through a Halloween they’ll never forget, proving that "the scare" is more than just a fantasy.

Word Count: 3845

Warnings: Talks of Killings, Implied Murder, Nothing Too Graphic for This Chapter

Chapter 1 - Emery's POV

Series Masterlist

10 years later

Good morning Santa Monica, this is Sienna Ramirez coming to you live from Brentwood. It’s Friday October 31st as the time reads 8:32 a.m. and behind me here, is believed to be the most recent murder scene of The Resident Reaper; named after their ability to seamlessly integrate into communities, where heinous crimes are sure to follow.

Fingernails clamped between chattering teeth is the latest bad habit I’ve picked up. It isn’t until my teeth chew through the nail that I manage to force my hand away from my mouth and atop my bouncing knee, while the other reaches for the remote; fingers tracing over the buttons until the volume increases.

Authorities are unsure of whether today's latest casualty is that of The Resident Reaper but can confirm that it matches their murder method of death by strangulation. Just a few months ago, The Reaper’s seventh victim was found at a rest stop near the border of Arizona where the body was discovered some hours later. For the past 4 years, homicide cases have popped up in states lining the historical route 66 where authorities believe California may just be their last stop. Given that the prior victims didn’t fit a particular profile, ranging from men and women of all ages and ethnicities, law officials state that it’s difficult to tell who’s most at risk, but better yet the gender of the person behind these strings of monstrosities.

The remote being snatched out of my hand scares me shitless and a shriek bursts into the quiet air, hands clutching my chest until I slowly remembered that Lynn slept over the night before.

“Enough of this Em,” she pleaded, muting the tv. “You’ll send yourself crazy watching this shit.”

“It’s the news.”

“Oh you know what I mean,” she huffed.

“Lynn,” I croaked. “Every time I close my eyes, my mind races with a thousand thoughts of how it could’ve been ME at that fucking rest stop.”

“But it wasn’t.”

“I can barely sleep most nights and the thought of being alone in this house makes my chest tight,” I sobbed. “Gum isn’t the same for me anymore and the once peaceful patter of raindrops fills me with dread.”

Eyes crinkled in confusion, Lynn carefully sits next to me on the bed, a protective arm cradled around my shoulder as she rubs it soothingly asking, “what's wrong with chewing gum?”

“I had just wrapped up my trip to New Mexico, opting to drive back home for a more scenic view to clear my head.”

“You don’t have to,” Lynn mumbled.

“I need to,” I insisted, shoulders slouched as I stared at nothing in particular.

“I was four hours into my drive with enough pent up energy to push through the last three. It was nightfall and pouring rain, which was rather soothing, but I was on the verge of pissing myself.”

Silent tears streaming down my cheeks has me furiously wiping at them, inhaling deep breaths before continuing my story.

“Just when I thought I couldn’t hold it any longer, I passed a rest stop sign letting me know it’d be a quarter of a mile out. So I finally get there and there’s two other cars parked outside, which was a little too empty for my liking.”

Tilting my head toward her, I blurted “do you ever get the gut feeling that something is off? Lynn I swear the rain hammered down even harder as I sat there, with lightning spooking me silly. It was almost as if it were a warning.”

Fiddling with her fingers, Lynn proposes that sometimes our bodies know when something is wrong before our mind has the time to catch up.

Nodding in agreement, I go on to get this shit off my chest once and for all.

“Before I have time to decide anything, my legs are hurling toward the entrance and into the stall. The bathroom is surprisingly clean and puts me to a slight ease as I'm finally able to relieve myself. I wash up and use my hands as a makeshift umbrella while I sprint back to the car. As I’m running, I see this hooded figure strolling toward the bathroom. That's weird right? It's raining cats and dogs and they’re just taking their sweet ole time getting to shelter?”

“Maybe getting wet isn’t a problem for some people,” she suggests.

“Ehh”

“Still a little off putting tho,” she voiced carefully.

Clicking my tongue, I continued “the whole thing was odd, and to top it all off, I saw a brown bubble and heard the unmistakable sound of gum popping just as I ran past them.

“Finally making it to my car, I cranked the engine and peeled the fuck out of there, my nerves settling the further away I got; but to be honest with you, I just chucked it up to late night jitters. It wasn’t until I heard the news the next day that I felt sick to my stomach,” I whimpered. “I looked death in the eye that night and walked away unscathed, but for how long until it finally catches up to me huh? I feel so paranoid somedays, I wish it would’ve been me.”

“HEY, NO,” Lynn shouts. “Don’t you ever, Em don’t you ever dream of saying some shit like that again.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean it,” I broke. “But who knows if that deranged motherfucker thinks I can identify them? I swear it feels like I'm just counting down the days til the inevitable.”

Embracing me she chided, “I swear on my life I’ll never let that happen. We’ll hire every sketch artist in town if it means plastering that bitches face on every tv network available.” Pulling away, Lynn continued, “I know in the moment there’s so much going on that it’s easy to confuse the details. But usually once enough time has passed after a traumatic event, we can begin to piece everything together. So, after all this time, do you think you could make them out?”

“No,” I sighed. “It was dark, rainy, and I sprinted right past them, just barely glimpsing their face.”

“Could you at least tell if it were a man or woman?”

“No Lynn, my story hasn’t changed and neither has my memory. They were wearing a hoodie, were tall, slender, and of fair skin. That’s all I got.”

“Hmm, so that narrows it down to about 60% of Cali.”

“Pftt, who you telling?”

“Listen, I’m down for you healing in whichever way you feel necessary, shit I’m practically moved in, but I cannot watch you self-destruct like this,” she says waving the remote in the air. “Unless they’re telling us exactly who to look for, no more binge watching this assholes' increasing kill streak, ok?”

“Ok, but can I at least finish the rest of the news?”

“Emmmm,” she groans.

Snatching the remote from her hand, I press the button to unmute the tv, quickly grabbing the batteries from the back and tossing them in different corners of the room to buy me more time.

Her annoyed screech has me fighting back laughter as she climbs off the bed in search of the batteries. I know she means well, but being that close to the Resident Reaper has had me on edge for months. And who knows, somehow by me watching the news, I feel like something might come to me. Maybe they’ll get sloppy enough to leave a clue behind and it’ll be something that I overlooked that night. Just anything to put me at ease and that peasant behind bars.

Police Captain Van Gogh and her troops are working tirelessly to bring this homicidal maniac to justice, however as we roll into the late hours of the holiday night, authorities are urging everyone to stay vigilant, drink responsibly, and party earlier. My name is Sienna Ramirez, signing off for the night and until next time, Happy Halloween.

“I missed it.”

“Good,” Lynn screams from under the bed.

In a huff of frustration, she gets up and unplugs the tv from the wall; as I plop onto the sheets, eyes glued to the ceiling.

“What’s so odd about brown gum?” she inquires. “There’s tons of flavors out there, why did the brown one throw you off?”

Leaning up on my elbows, I ask “when have you seen a brown gum ever? Is that really the first pack you’re reaching for? A shit flavored chewing gum?”

“Points were made,” she conceded. “But hey, enough of this boogey bitch. Lorenzo’s hosting tonight’s Halloween party up at his parents lake house and I think it’ll serve as a great distraction for the next few hours.”

“Didn’t you hear Sienna,” I retorted, “she said to party earlier and it’s already noon.”

“Emery, this party is gonna be chocked full of people we know,” she deadpans. “And besides, the Resident Reaper can’t catch us all, can they?”

“Points were made.”

“Exactly,” she chuckles. “And if it’ll make you feel any better, we can triple up on the buddy system, so rather than two people, we can do groups of three and make it a real challenge for that motherfucker.”

“God, I love you,” I breathe out.

“I love you too. Now get up and get dressed because I have a few last minute things I need to get for my costume.”

“You’re going as Daphne, what else could you possibly need other than a purple dress and scarf.”

“I’m going to accessorize,” she sighed. “God, sometimes it’s tough being the only fashion forward one. And plus I need to pick up a few things for Jason, he’s going as Fred.

Rolling my eyes, “ahh so we’re finally worthy enough to meet your boy toy huh?”

“Em he’s not like the rest, I really like this one,” she gushed. “Now, get your ass in the shower.”

“Aye aye captain,” I said dryly, giving a salute.

|~~

I’m who every nigga wife fear, thick-thighed nightmare, I’m the boogie bitch ho I’m every nigga type yeah.

Unbuckling my seatbelt, it’s clear that Lorenzo’s party is in full effect and as I glance down at my costume, groaning in annoyance that I’ve let them talk me into this.

“Don't even think about it,” Lynn protested. “Besides, it’s too late to change.”

“Girl, whose dumbass idea was this anyway?”

“C’mon now, I thought it was cute and everyone else agreed.”

“I mean we could’ve chosen literally anyone else,” I insisted. “The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was right there. You know green is my color.”

“Turn this on,” she hissed, pointing to her head. “There’s five of us in total.”

“Rude.”

“Slow! Besides, a turtle? Girl be for fucking real and glad as hell that you didn’t have to be Scooby.”

“Be gLaD yOu DiDn’T hAvE tO bE sCoObY,” I mimicked. “Bitch where the fuck ya nigga at?”

As if on cue a hand slams against the window of the car, startling us and giving me a mini freaking heart attack.

Breath fogging against the windows, the only thing I can make out is an upturned smile on the other side as my hand quickly pushes on the lock button. A light chuckle from beside me has my head twisting until I finally put two and two together, wet palms rubbing down my skirt to alleviate some of the sweat.

“Ahh, so this must be Jason,” I asked, thumb pointing in the direction of the glass.

A giddied yelp as she exits the car and jumps into his arms is all the answer I need, eyes rolling as I watch them swap dna. Stepping out of the car, I cleared my throat eager to meet the man whose had my friend dickmatized for the past couple of weeks.

“Ohh sorry Em,” Lynn giggles, swiping at his mouth to remove any lingering lipstick. “This is Jason, Jason Emery,” she gestures toward the both of us.

“Nice to meet you, sugars told me a lot about you Emery.”

“Sugar?”

“Yes, sugar,” he repeats. “I like to call her that cause she’s so sweet.”

The sound that slips from Lynns lips has me holding back my own laughter, shocked that such a noise could come from her. And it’s then that I realised that my girl is whipped. But they must still be in the honeymoon phase cause just like that I don’t exist anymore and they’re back to sucking each other's face off.

Another clearing of the throat seems to bring them back and we all finally agree to head inside.

Stepping through the threshold, I see bodies everywhere and I must give credit to some of these amazing costumes. The bass from the music has my heart thumping and for the first time in a long time I feel the shackles of fear loosen up, my body at ease as I eye all the familiar faces. Making my way over to Shaggy, I scream the lyrics to the rest of the song, feeling every bit of turnt in this atmosphere.

Say my name like candyman and bitch you know I'm there, these hoes wished they saw me when they looking in the mirror.

Red bottoms on my feet, bloody mary on my toes, every time I pop out it get scary for you hoes.

At some point throughout, I found myself throwing ass to the green goblin and as the song wraps up, it seems the mystery gang's all here.

“Ayeee, and to think you didn’t even wanna be Velma,” Steph screams in my ear. “Meanwhile you wear her so well. Of course I would've done it better.”

“Well woof woof bitch, I see you rock Scooby just as good,” I countered. “Pick a longer straw next time and you wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

“Hey, hey, hey, all my bitches bad,” Lorenzo yelled. “No need to get spicy.”

“I must say, your pick was spot on Lenny,” Steph hooted. “Cause much like Shaggy, your ass stays high.”

“Well life often imitates art.”

“I don't think that’s how it goes.”

“Everyone shut the fuck up and meet my heart in human form,” Lynn screams over our conversation, wrapped in Jasons arms, his face buried between her neck.

“Ahh so this is the infamous Jason, run while you still can,” Lorenzo jokes, dapping him up.

Staring daggers through him, Lynn goes through introductions, handshakes get thrown in the mix, and Julez interrupts our greetings, oddly enough dressed as Scrappy Doo. She goes on to call us shit friends for leaving her out of the equation, but adds how she “managed to find something last minute anyway.”

Julez is what I’d call a floater. She drifts from friend group to friend group and while we’ve always been cool, she’s never really been as close with us as we are with each other. She’s always had her own thing going on and I can respect that. Come to think of it, she wasn’t invited because she was supposedly in Atlanta on a business trip. Whatever! Apologies get thrown around and we focus back on the conversation at hand.

“So where did y’all meet?” Lorenzo asks.

“In the coffee shop,” Lynn gushed.

“Go on,” Julez urged.

“I ordered my usual as I do everyday, and like most days I was running a little late for work except I had a presentation that morning so I couldn’t just stroll in at my usual time” she continued. “So I’m hightailing it out of there and I bump into this brick wall smelling fresh out of heaven.”

“Ohh what cologne were you wearing?” Steph interrupts. “I don't think my brother will appreciate another tie set this Christmas.”

“Well it became coffee scented real quick,” Jason chuckled.

A sea of groans sounded with everyone wincing at the idea, while Lynn nodded in faux concern.

“So lemme get this straight,” I blurted out. “Lynn spills coffee all over you at like 9 in the morning and the first thing you think to do is exchange numbers?”

“No no no Em, so get this,” Lynn explains. “I ran to get some napkins and started apologizing profusely until he grabbed both my hands, pleaded for me to relax, and suggested that I make it up to him with a lunch date.”

“Her treat of course, I mean it was only right” he jokes.

“Ahh boy, you’ve got a funny one.”

“No need for sarcasm Julez, that was actually cute,” Steph pointed out.

“Well gang, it was nice to meet you all,” Jason waved to us. “But I think it's about time we split up.”

And with that they left, hand in hand. I’d be lying if I said I weren’t a little jealous. I think it’s always bittersweet when one of your close friends gets into a relationship and you no longer have the same access to them as you once did. But green-eyed monster aside there’s something about him that seems a little off, though I can’t quite put my finger on it just yet.

“What’s going on up there?” Julez questioned, tapping my temple.

“Nothing really, I’m just meeting him the same as you are.”

“Well he seems pretty cool, though only time will tell huh?”

“That right there Lenny, and he’s fine, I’ll give her that,” Steph adds.

“Can we also add sweet talking to that list,” I butt in. “So get this, ole lover boy calls her ‘sugar’.”

A round of laughter cuts through the music, each of us dying at the thought but even I can admit that shits kinda cute.

“That’s military men for you, mark my words they’ll be married by Christmas,” Julez assured us.

“Military? How the hell did you find that out?”

“I googled his ass Lorenzo, how else?!”

“We just met the motherfucker, what do you mean?”

“Lenny, we’ve been knowing his name though,” Julez retorts. “You’d be amazed what you can find out with the google search engine, like the fact that he’s served two tours in Iran.”

“Jinkies, what are you, the FBI?” I asked, fully intrigued. “But what else did you find out?”

“Yeah, and why didn’t you tell us?”

“Oh Steph, not you too?” Lenny cried. “You know what I don’t even wanna know. I’m off to find that sexy ass bunny I saw earlier.”

“Aye ladies, let's do this later yeah? I came here for a good time not a long time,” Julez raved.

“Alright fine, but tomorrow I want full deets bitch,” Steph warned.

“I got you, but as of now I need another drink like four drinks ago. And speaking of, y’all should try the Jekyll and Gin next to the punch bowl; shit they need to call it puppy power cause my ass hasn’t stopped moving yet.”

“Yeah or talking,” Steph muttered.

“And then there were two,” I noted.

“Uhh more like one, I have to flag down that fine ass Captain America I saw earlier.”

These bitches really left me, and to think I - ohhh, damn even in real life Spiderman can’t commit to shielding his identity. Not that Im complaining cause that boy is fine as fuck. Shit maybe tonight instead of shooting webs, he can shoot his cum down my throat.

“Ayo Miles Morales, come here boy.”

|~~

“Oh my gosh, how the hell did we manage to get roped into helping you cleannnnnn,” Lynn complained.

“Guys we’ve been doing this since highschool, why are y’all acting brand new?”

“Dammit Lenny, I should’ve left while I had the chance.”

“Steph you’ve been drinking all night, how the hell were you planning on getting home without driving?” Lorenzo countered.

“And as ritual would have it, I assume we’re all sleeping here then?” I asked.

“See, Em gets it and I got the guest room all set up for you guys.”

“Two rooms, five people. That gives us about 2-3 persons to each room,” Jason proposed. “Sugar and I are more than willing to squeeze one more in.”

“No, the hell we’re not,” she whispered.

“Woah woah woah, what do you mean five people? Where the fuck is Julez?” Steph barked.

“That sneaky bitch, she’s probably halfway back to the A right now,” Lynn suggests.

“I mean the guest room is big enough right Steph, why don’t we let those three have it while you and I catch up for old times sake?” Lorenzo recalled.

“NIGGA THAT WAS ONE TIME.”

“Well I, for one, am not sleeping on the couch again so Lenny and Steph, no funny business please,” I stressed.

For a while I really thought Steph and Lenny would be endgame; that the constant flirting and bickering was just their way of expressing feelings. But in a weird way, I'm glad that it didn’t work out, shit the group is at peace because of it really; well as peaceful as peaceful can get. Those stubborn sons of bitches would surely find a way to make things awkward with us if things ever went sour between them.

Dragging the trash bag across the floor, I chuck it in the corner and take a seat on the window sill; retiring from my duty as trash collector for the night.

“Lenny, you know I'm down to help clean, but I'm pretty sure we can do this tomorrow,” I yawned.

“Yeah man, I’m no lightweight but even I can barely keep my eyes open.”

“J’s right Lenny, we can finish this off tomorrow.”

“No we can’t Lynn, my parents are gonna be back here first thing in the morning and I need this place in pristine fucking condition,” Lorenzo snarled.

“Well why would your dumbass host it here at the lake house then,” Steph screeched.

Leaning my head against the window pane, their bickering becomes a distant noise that fades into the background, eye lashes steadily fluttering against my face; sleep begging me to surrender.

The waves in the lake bring such serenity, the way they gently crash against one another, gracefully creating ripple after ripple. My eyes drift across the water that’s become my own personal lullaby, but it’s interrupted by floating debris. Frustration rears its ugly head at the disturbance, eyes squinting in confusion at the silhouette I see.

Sitting up further, my hands hastily reach for the glass, firmly pressed against it; brows snapped together in confusion as realisation flashes across my face. Denial grasps me in its clutches, fingernails painfully scratching against the window until the debris floats closer, revealing a face that brings my worst fear to life.

Hands balled into fists, they beat against the window. Angry, hot tears cloud my vision as they stream down my cheeks all the while strong arms grab at my fists to stop their assault. It isn’t until I hear the choir of concerned gasps and shhh’s that it dawns on me that the piercing scream is indeed coming from me. I fight against their clutches, arms swinging at whoever is in sight until I find myself pinned to the ground, my friends begging me to tell them what’s wrong.

“Julez,” I hiccup as I point to the window. “It’s fucking Julez. They’ve found me.”

#Emmy Writes #Emmy Tries #SpookySzn #Halloween Kills #Halloween Series #Halloween #Shit Just Got Real #Walk With Me #Hills and Valleys #Horror

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a-vast-horizon · 2 years ago

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I posted 1,577 times in 2022

15 posts created (1%)

1,562 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thetiredpenguin

@lordlyhour

@phantomrose96

@halfusek

@qapleulia

I tagged 1,577 of my posts in 2022

#funny - 352 posts

#video - 180 posts

#fanart - 150 posts

#me - 92 posts

#tumblr culture - 74 posts

#cute - 70 posts

#happy - 62 posts

#cats - 62 posts

#bendy and the ink machine - 58 posts

#art - 51 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#today someone at the grocery store with only 2 items let me go first into a new checkout line because she saw i had ice cream and the line w

My Top Posts in 2022:

Safe Inside (part 1)

Is it even a FNAF game without a dead kid being stuffed into an animatronic?

AKA an AU where Vanny catches and kills Gregory and stuffs him inside Glamrock Freddy.

Warnings: Major character death, referenced/implied death of a child

A bright display flickered to life, crisp camera feed and neon blue overlay replacing a black void, and Gregory startled to attention. Had he been asleep? That didn’t feel quite right, but he definitely hadn’t been awake , either.

At least he didn’t have to wonder where he was; the now-familiar display in front of him meant he was in Freddy’s chest cavity, which was the safest place he’d been in… a long time. He didn’t remember climbing in here, though. The last he could remember, he’d been trying to get out of the trash pit and back to the PizzaPlex proper when that creepy rabbit lady had started chasing him. He’d been hitting the button to call for Freddy’s help, but the bear hadn’t gotten there yet and he’d tripped on the stairs and—

And then he woke up here.

[Continue reading on AO3]

10 notes - Posted February 3, 2022

Private Footage

Another update for Going Angst Week 2021! Shhhh I don’t need to be told we’re 4 months into 2022, i’m following the 2021 prompts so it still counts.

[Day 1]

I give you: Day 4, Corruption!

The camcorder clicked on, focused on a plate of pancakes with chocolate chips forming a smiley face. It zoomed out in fits and starts, revealing the rest of the Fenton family kitchen, with a big shiny number 5 balloon tied to one of the chairs.

The camera turned to focus on the staircase as a newly-five-year-old Danny bounded down the steps, a huge grin splitting his face.

“Happy birthday Danny!” Maddie, Jack, and Jazz called out together, and Danny beamed and ran up to whoever was holding the camera for a hug. The video cut out as the camera tilted towards the ground.

The video picked back up later in the day, this time held steady by a tripod and pointed at the main stage of Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza. The animatronic band stood still, the colorful spinning spotlights and children running by the only motion on screen. Then, with a click, the band came alive.

Chica’s eyes blinked, Bonnie adjusted his grip on his guitar, Freddy grabbed his microphone and held it to his mouth, and the children running past stopped and turned to watch.

[Keep reading on AO3]

14 notes - Posted April 6, 2022

Candy-Coated Poison

How do you infect an animatronic with a virus without raising suspicion? Present the virus as a game, of course! How exactly Moon was corrupted prior to the game, from his and Sun's point of view

Inspired by the playlist "POV: Watching Moondrop Go Insane (A Playlist)" by bsoiso s man on YouTube!

Diagnostics complete: 100%. All systems online. Rebooting personality S_lightmode… Rebooting personality M_darkmode…

Moon comes online in the Daycare. Their regularly scheduled maintenance and software updates went smoothly, then, if they’re already out of Parts & Service.

The lights are on, so Sun is in control, taking them through a few cartwheels as he checks the body’s joints are working as expected and works out his pent-up energy from being immobilized in the maintenance cylinder. Moon, meanwhile, takes stock of his code. Most of the changes are standard, small updates here and there to improve runtime or make use of new features developed over the previous month, but that’s not all.

There is a new game in his programming.

It’s odd. Sun is the one that plays with the children; he gets all the games, and Moon gets the stories. But despite that, there is a game in Moon’s internal library. He tries to open the file, to look through its rules and conditions, but the file is locked. All he can access is the name of the program: LightsOut.agm

Well, that explains why Sun didn’t get the code for it. If it’s meant to be played in the dark, Sun would never be able to run it anyway. But whenever the lights are out in the Daycare, it’s supposed to be naptime, calm and quiet.

Maybe this is a game to be played lying down, to lull the children to sleep? Or maybe this is designed for the Sleepover Mode that the technicians keep talking about, a game to be played if management has their way and allows the Daycare to be rented out overnight for slumber parties?

“Moon? Everything alright? You’ve been quiet,” Sun says, snapping Moon out of his thoughts.

Sun has worked most of the excess energy out of his system by now, and instead of cartwheeling around the Daycare, he’s sitting perched on their balcony, idly kicking his legs.

I’m fine, Moon assures his counterpart. I was… given a game.

[keep reading on AO3]

15 notes - Posted March 9, 2022

Backrooms — The Accident

It’s October of 1989, ASYNC is gearing up for the sixth test of their Low-Proximity Magnetic Distortion System, and it seems like this attempt might finally be a success. As preparations wrap up, two of ASYNC’s top scientists invite their teenage children to the facility for a look at their work.

Things do not go as planned.

Fandoms: Danny Phantom, The Backrooms

On October 14, 1989, two senior researchers on Project KV31, Madeline and Jack Fenton, brought their teenage children, Jasmine and Daniel, into the research site against company policy. Below is a transcription of relevant security camera footage of the resulting incident.

[16:17:33]: Madeline Fenton, wearing a lab coat and holding a briefcase, enters the room that houses the Low-Proximity Magnetic Distortion System.

Madeline, speaking: “—past few years of research are finally coming together.”

Jasmine Fenton enters the room, following Madeline, who is now looking down at the clipboard she holds.

[16:18:03]: Daniel Fenton enters the room and begins casually looking around at scientific equipment.

Jack Fenton enters the room, also wearing a lab coat. While Daniel and Jasmine stand idly in the center of the room, Jack walks to a piece of equipment installed on the eastern wall. Both children turn to face their father. Madeline continues looking at her clipboard.

Jack Fenton begins giving a detailed account of how the Low-Proximity Magnetic Distortion System functions, which has been redacted from this transcript for confidentiality.

[Continue reading on AO3]

18 notes - Posted September 5, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

If you like indie horror games, check out my discord server! We have channels for:

My Friendly Neighborhood

Five Nights at Freddy’s

Poppy Playtime

Dark Deception

Bendy and the Ink Machine

Hello Puppets!

And we regularly add new games as interest in them rises!

If you are looking for a chill server to talk about indie horror games, please consider joining!

19 notes - Posted March 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #long post

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jasonp01 · 6 months ago

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Empowering Girls: 4 Ways Summer Camp Boosts Confidence

When it comes to nurturing confidence in young girls, few experiences compare to the transformative journey offered by summer camp. At Pali Adventures, we understand the unique importance of empowering girls and fostering their self-assurance. Here are four incredible ways our camp helps girls build unwavering confidence:

1. Embracing Challenges to Build Confidence

Pali Adventures encourages girls to conquer challenges in a supportive environment. From thrilling outdoor adventures to creative pursuits, every activity is an opportunity for girls to push boundaries and discover their capabilities. With each achievement, whether mastering a ropes course or performing in a talent show, their confidence grows stronger.

2. Fostering Supportive Connections and Inner Strength

In our tight-knit community, girls from friendships that become pillars of support. Through teamwork and collaboration, they learn to rely on each other while discovering their inner strength. Encouraged by this network, they feel empowered to take risks and explore new interests, enhancing their confidence in themselves and their abilities.

3. Cultivating Independence in a Safe Space

Independence is key to building confidence, and Pali Adventures provides a safe haven for girls to develop this trait. Campers are encouraged to make choices, take responsibility, and embrace leadership roles, fostering a sense of self-reliance that bolsters their confidence both at camp and beyond .

4. Inspiring self-Discovery and Personal Growth

Beyond the structured activities, our camp encourages girls to explore their identities and passions. Through self-reflection and diverse experiences, they uncover hidden talents and strengths, gaining a deeper understanding of themselves. This self-discovery fuels their confidence, empowering them to embrace their unique qualities.

5.Make Memories, Build Confidence

At Pali Adventures, we believe in empowering girls to embrace their potential and thrive in a supportive environment. Our camps isn't just about fun; it's a gateway to unlocking a girl's inner confidence, resilience, and belief in herself. Reach out to us today to learn more about our programs and how your daughter can benefit by joining the Pali family!

Summer is the perfect time for kids to let out all the pent-up energy they've been keeping under wraps during the school year. It's also the ideal opportunity for young campers to create lifelong memories, make new friends, and learn exciting and fun new skills. At adventure camp, kids are able to push themselves beyond their limits, where they're met with a sense of achievements, self-confidence, and plenty of fun, too!

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thepinklotusacademia · 1 year ago

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Unlocking Potential: Aerial Yoga for Kids above 11 Years

Introduction

Hey there! Ever thought about your kids swinging in a hammock, twisting and turning, all while doing yoga? Sounds like a hoot, doesn’t it? Well, that's exactly what we're about to delve into. Ladies and gents, we're talking about Aerial Yoga for kids above 11 years. Now, before your eyebrows meet your hairline, let's break it down.

Aerial Yoga for Kids Above 11 Years: A Feather in Their Fitness Cap

Once upon a time, yoga was considered a grown-up's game. Not anymore. Thanks to the advent of Aerial Yoga, kids above 11 years are also joining the bandwagon, transforming their energy into grace and resilience. Aerial yoga, also known as anti-gravity yoga, marries traditional yoga with the exhilarating components of acrobatics.

The Basics of Aerial Yoga

Imagine this - a sturdy, colorful piece of fabric suspended from the ceiling, and your kiddo cocooned inside it, attempting various yoga poses. That's aerial yoga for you, as simple as ABC. The fabric, referred to as a hammock or swing, supports their weight, aids alignment, deepens awareness, and grants immediate access to numerous yoga poses.

The Perks of Aerial Yoga for Kids

There's more to aerial yoga than just hanging around. Here's the skinny on why you should consider getting your kids to give this exciting form of exercise a shot.

Strength and Flexibility

We're not just blowing smoke here. Aerial yoga packs a punch when it comes to boosting strength and flexibility. Kids use their body weight for resistance, thus building core strength while promoting spinal and shoulder flexibility.

Improved Focus and Self-esteem

Kids will be kids, with energy bouncing off the walls. Aerial yoga can help channel this energy productively, improving focus and mental clarity. And as the cherry on top, mastering complex poses can give their self-esteem a real shot in the arm.

Safety First: Precautions in Aerial Yoga

Despite being as safe as houses, aerial yoga does demand some precautions. After all, we’re dealing with kids suspended mid-air!

Sub-heading: Proper Guidance is Key

Ensuring professional guidance is paramount to prevent any slips between the cup and the lip. Coaches should be well versed with the needs and capabilities of kids above 11 years.

Sub-heading: Equip them Right

Choosing the right hammock is crucial. It should be robust and have a firm grip. No compromise on this one, folks!

An At-Home Fitness Regime

Aerial yoga can be set up at home, making it a no-brainer choice for these socially distant times.

A Fun Way to Release Energy

With limited outdoor activities, kids can release pent-up energy through the dynamic movements of aerial yoga.

FAQs

1. Is aerial yoga safe for kids above 11 years? Absolutely! Provided it's done under professional supervision and with

the correct equipment, aerial yoga is as safe as a bug in a rug for kids.

2. How will aerial yoga benefit my child? Aerial yoga can work wonders on your child's strength, flexibility, focus, and self-esteem. Plus, it's a barrel of laughs!

3. Can aerial yoga be done at home? Sure thing! As long as you've got a sturdy ceiling to hang the hammock from, and ample space around, you're good to go.

4. Does my child need to have prior yoga experience? Not necessarily. Aerial yoga is kid-friendly and beginners can hit the ground running.

5. How to choose the right hammock for my child? The hammock should be strong enough to support your child's weight and they should be able to grip it comfortably. So, it's best to keep them in the loop when you're picking one out.

6. Can my child practice aerial yoga alone? It's always better to have a spotter around, just in case. Safety first, remember?

Conclusion

Aerial Yoga for kids above 11 years is the bee's knees. It's a splendid way to get your kids interested in yoga, with a dash of thrill added to the mix. It's about time we embraced this wholesome activity and watched as our kids reap the benefits, one swing at a time.

So, what are you waiting for? Get your child to slip into their yoga pants, let's turn their world upside down!

Learn More: thepinklotusacademia.com

#aerialyoga #aerial #aerial centre

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thedrcom · 2 years ago

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Benefits of Therasage sauna and Health detox diet

The Therasage sauna is a great way to detox your body. Saunas are a great way to relax and unwind, but they can also help you detox your body. The infrared heat from the sauna helps to stimulate sweat glands, which can then release toxins. The infrared heat also helps warm up your muscles and joints, making it easier for them to relax and let go of tension.

Therasage saunas provide many benefits for your health and well-being. Many of the benefits are very similar to those provided by other forms of sauna, but there are a few unique qualities that set them apart. Here are some benefits Therasage saunas that includes:

1. Relaxation and Stress Relief

Saunas can have a profound effect on your stress levels, which can lead to a variety of health benefits. Saunas aid in the detoxification process, which is important for getting rid of toxins that build up in your body. The heat from the sauna also increases your heart rate and circulation, helping you release pent-up tension in your muscles and joints.

2. Pain Relief and Hashimoto’s

Sauna use has been shown to reduce symptoms of chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, and rheumatoid arthritis by increasing blood flow to tissues and muscles. Sauna therapy has also been shown to be effective at reducing inflammation caused by Hashimoto’s disease—a condition that causes your immune system to attack your thyroid gland.

3. Weight Loss

Sauna use can lead to weight loss. The heat from the sauna increases your body temperature and causes you to sweat, which causes you to lose water weight. The sweat also contains toxins that are released from your body, thus helping with toxin removal as well.

4. The Circulation Improvement

Sauna use improves circulation in your blood vessels and muscles, which helps more oxygen and nutrients reach their intended destinations in your body. This can help relieve pain, increase energy levels and improve overall health.

5. Anti-Aging Benefits to the Skin

The infrared rays of the sauna are known for their anti-aging benefits on skin cells. They increase collagen production in skin tissue, making it less saggy and more elastic than it once was.

health detox diet

The health detox diet is a great way to cleanse your body, get back on track with your eating habits, and shed some pounds. It's a great way to reset your body after a period of indulgence or after taking some time off from working out. It's also a great way to kickstart any other changes you want to make in how you eat—whether it's cutting out gluten or starting a vegetarian diet and health supplements. Some of health products are:

Osteopro:

Osteopro is a bone health supplement that works to prevent osteoporosis, build stronger bones, and promote healthy joints. It's made with natural ingredients and is clinically proven to help you achieve more optimal bone health. Osteopro is a bone support formula that contains minerals, vitamins, and amino acids. It helps to increase bone density, reduce the risk of fractures, and improve overall health.

Fog Cutter:

It is a nutritional supplement that helps reduce the number of colds you get every year. It's made with a mixture of vitamins and minerals that work together to boost your immune system and strengthen your body's natural defenses against illness. If you are interested to buy fog cutter, thedr is the right place for you to buy the health supplements.

Paleo Valley Beef Sticks:

Paleo Valley Beef Sticks are a good way to get your beef fix. They're free from gluten and other ingredients that make up the modern diet, so you can enjoy them without worrying about any of those pesky side effects.

These Paleo Valley beef sticks are made from grass-fed, free-range cattle that roam free on the open plains of Colorado. The cattle are never given hormones or antibiotics, and they're not fed grain—just grasses, legumes, and other natural ingredients that have been around since before humans started messing with food.

#Paleo Valley Beef Sticks #Fog Cutter #Osteopro #health detox diet

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

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Why Couldn’t it Have Been Me?

Part 2

Paring: Wilbur Soot x reader (past), Ghostbur x reader

Disclaimer: This contains major spoilers for Tommyinnit’s 4/29 lore stream

Warnings: swearing, violence, death, near death, cheating, 4/29 lore stream, grief, blood, injury, panic attack

Word count: 6,737

(A/N): So in this, you’re Schlatt’s twin and Puffy’s your older sister. Also, sorry for any mistakes, I typed a good 2/3 of this on my phone

This was your own personal hell: being trapped within cement walls with your ex fiance, your asshole of a brother, and a Dream wannabe that seemed to never lose any energy. Your life was like a trope in a novel alive you would’ve liked, however being cursed to live in it made you absolutely loathe any and all mention of it.

Alive you would’ve killed to hang out with your brother again, not the one that turned to the bottle. Alive you would’ve craved the sweet melodies that streamed from Wilbur’s mouth. You would’ve swooned and maybe, just maybe, you would’ve forgiven him. Alive you would’ve perhaps liked this ‘Mexican Dream’ guy, you would’ve perhaps become the best of friends.

However you despised the three locked up with you with your whole heart.

Your ex fiance was someone you adored. Hell, you even idolized him when you were alive. The Wilbur you knew was sweet, loving, attentive, and just all around someone that you swooned over. You could still remember how your heart exploded when he first asked you out under the setting sun by the ocean. You remembered every song he's written for you, every word and rhythm by heart, even after all these years.

You remembered how you felt your heart completely shatter when you found the songs he had in his drafts for someone that wasn't you. Someone by the name of 'Sally'. After a heated argument you had broken up with him, taking the engagement ring off from your finger and throwing it deep into the ocean. You stayed on L'Manberg's side even after all that, too loyal and proud towards the country you helped forge to drop it. You wouldn't let some stupid boy or rabid tyrants prevent you from raising your beautiful nation up from the ashes.

That had been your downfall. You should've listened to Puffy and left the country behind when you had the chance, now you paid the ultimate price for your deep rooted loyalty and devotion towards independence. And your sacrifice didn't even matter in the end! Your deranged ex blew it all to smithereens. If you didn't despise him before, you absolutely did after your dumbass twin told you about his little 'escapades' while you were gone.

Every little thing Wilbur did, no matter how small it was, made you hate him even more. Every time he would shuffle those damned cards, it made you want to rip them to shreds and throw them across the train tracks. Every time he would sing or even breathe, you wanted to strangle him. You were absolutely certain that Schlatt felt the same.

Oh, your twin was a real card. Always boasting about how his horns were bigger than yours (who even cares anymore? Yours grew in first anyways), telling the others about your shortcomings through crude jokes, even going as far as fighting you through headbutting; you could still feel the pain of being beaten to death before respawning immediately. Schlatt hadn’t known that you respawn even in the afterlife, so you knew he was serious about killing you. You just wanted Puffy, she was far more tolerable than your twin.

The rustling of his suit jacket and his small grunts and pants resonated within the walls as he did various forms of exercising. You now knew about all of the differing variations of a pushup and you hated yourself for listening to his explanations. He would beg you, Mexican Dream, and Wilbur to stand on his back while he did his endless routines. The only one to readily take him up on that offer was Mexican Dream.

That man was arguably the only one you slightly tolerated, and you said that very lightly. He was still annoying as all hell, but he was a new face. Well, one that you didn’t know well enough to have a grudge against while you were alive. It was slightly refreshing, in a sense. When he first got here, his songs, stories, and humor gave you a nice break away from Wilbur’s depressing songs and Schlatt’s crude jokes. However when you spend eleven years trapped in a cage with one person, everything they do becomes the bane of your existence.

You were running out of things that kept you sane in this dump. You've read the same novel, counted the same ceiling and floor tiles (32 ceiling tiles and 57 floor tiles exactly), traced the same cracks in the walls, temporarily killing the same cellmates, you've done anything and everything that this cesspool had to offer. You've done everything billions of times over, a never ending cycle of monotony.

Tommy joining your group of miserable has-beens was perhaps the highlight of your fifteen, almost sixteen, years spent in this shithole. Though he finally dropped the brave facade and showed just how broken down he was after everything he’s been through, having him around was the saving grace to your sanity. He told you how your sister was, how your nephews were, and most importantly what you missed. You knew about all of the events leading up to Mexican Dream's death, but you were left in the dark with everything past that. Ender, you missed so much since you died; It baffled you how much you missed.

When the train actually stopped at your cell instead of just passing by and it's doors opened, you were just expecting another poor soul to be dropped off here. You could imagine everybody's surprise when none other than Dream stepped out of those doors. The nephew that had betrayed you without a second thought, that had murdered you, that had your severed head displayed on his mantle (you weren't sure the truth of that last statement, Tommy has a habit of over exaggerating. Though, Schlatt did say that your body was found with a missing head when you first forced him to tell you what you missed). Tommy talked to you about how he died only once, so you knew just what your nephew has been up to. It infuriated you knowing that your adult nephew was manipulating and abusing this young teenager.

While you were releasing your pent up frustrations on the masked man, he merely brushed past you and drug Tommy into the train by the arm. You could remember Wilbur banging on the doors begging for Dream to return his little brother and his angered screams echoing down the railways as the train sped off back towards the land of the living.

Lucky Tommy, he got to live out the rest of his life and actually age. You and your crew of intolerable jesters were stuck together once again.

Everybody was silent for a few months, reeling at the newly discovered fact that Dream could actually resurrect people. During those three months, they were quiet and tolerable. In a way, the talks that came out of it was like one of those family therapy sessions your older sister would hold in the living room (you remembered how she would grab you and Schlatt by the horns if either one of you refused to go). You would kill to attend one of those therapy sessions again, and this is the closest you were going to get to it.

You all talked about the things you regretted most while you were alive. Mexican Dream's was that he didn't protect his girlfriend Mamacita well enough. Schlatt's was choosing alcohol and power over his family (tears were especially shed over Tubbo, he really did regret abandoning him to be raised by you). Yours was that you were too loyal to a cause that would be absolutely decimated a short while after you sacrificed everything for it. Surprisingly, Wilbur's was that he had hurt you.

He had begged and groveled for forgiveness, telling you that he just didn't feel that special connection with you anymore. That didn't take away from the fact that he was seeing another while you two were still dating and that he blew up your life's work. He had stolen everything from you, and you would never forgive him for that.

After you made your thoughts on him completely clear, he had started treating you like you treated him in the last few months. Tension was building up between you two that had laid dormant for thirteen and a half years like a rope pulled taut about to snap.

Everybody had slowly returned to their annoying selves slowly but surely. Schlatt resumed his workout routine, Mexican Dream had started loudly singing and ranting about Mamacita's everlasting beauty again, and Wilbur eventually started up his solitaire and songwriting once again.

The three of them made you want to rip off your twisting horns and shove them in your ears in hopes of muffling them, but you knew that whomever put you here would restore your hearing and make your horns regrow. You knew that first hand after you spent a couple of years alone in this hellhole; breaking your horns off by repeatedly banging your head against the dull stone walls in a manic state was never fun. The regeneration of the keratin only slightly stung, it was like you were a kid and they were growing in for the first time again.

You felt your eye twitch as Wilbur sang about that damned train for the umpteenth time since he arrived. It’s always ‘train this' and ‘train that' and quite frankly you were sick of it. You were sick of him.

“Shut the fuck up about that damned train,” Schlatt seethed. You never once thought you would ever agree with your twin, but here you were nodding in agreement and shooting a glare at Wilbur’s direction. The brunet merely stopped his singing and reshuffled his cards, the sound making an ugly cacophony and grating at your ears.

“Not my fault you two don’t want to talk to me. I’m just making due with what I’ve been given.” He dealt the cards out in piles and started yet another game of solitaire. Seriously, how many games of solitaire can one play before they lose it? You supposed that you’d find out soon, Wilbur has been playing that monotonous card game nonstop for thirteen and a half years.

“Yeah, let the hombre chill! I like his music.” The masked man reached up to stroke his goatee, the scratching sound further penetrating your focus on your book.

Everything was quiet before Mexican Dream's voice pierced it, "hey, did I ever tell you guys how beautiful my Mamacita was?"

"You told us millions of times, fuckface. You narrate entire love letters daily, so how could we not know how 'beautiful' she was?" You complained, not once looking up from your book. Schlatt snorted to himself and returned to his workout. Mexican Dream crossed his arms in anger, cursing you out under his breath. Wilbur merely glanced at you and rolled his eyes. "You know, I'm tired of your bitchy attitude. Let him talk about Mamacita, it's not his fault every time you think you love someone it fails."

Your grip on your book tightened impossibly. If it were physically possible, the book would be crumbling to dust in your voice grip. You practically see red as you slowly dog-eared the worn page you were on and put your book down.

"Oh shit," you heard Schlatt mumble and move away from you, Mexican Dream following suit. When you both were alive, your anger was always something you knew Schlatt feared. However, you knew that he's never seen you this angry; nobody has. The majority of what you've been holding in for almost fourteen years is about to be unleashed.

"You know what I'm sick of, Wilbur?"

"Oh, do enlighten us."

"I'm sick of each and every single one of you. You three have been absolutely intolerable ever since you arrived. I was doing just fine alone and the universe just had to fuck everything up for me, just like it always does."

"There you go again," Wilbur laughed sardonically, "making everything about yourself." He gathered his cards and shuffled them repeatedly.

"I make everything about myself?! Do you even hear yourself? Mr. Oh-I'm-such-a-disappointment-to-Philza, you wallow in self pity twenty-four seven! You fucking write every single song about yourself!”

"I didn't want to come here, okay?! I didn't think it was gonna be like this! God, I might as well be in hell with you here."

"Believe me, my hell started fourteen years ago when you guys started showing up," you growled out, your ears flattening to the sides of your skull.

"Have you ever stopped to think that you're our hell? All you've done since we came here was complain and be a massive douche to all of us." He fluttered through the deck more and more as the argument escalated, the noise making you want to scream until you tasted blood.

"I'm the one that's in the wrong here? You fucked up my entire life. He," you pointed at Schlatt, "keeps beating me to death. And he," you jutted your chin towards Mexican Dream, "never shuts the hell up… Would you stop with that damn deck?! You're literally so fucking annoying."

He narrowed his eyes, "make me."

A mixture of an animalistic growl and a guttural scream left your lips as you charged at him, your head tilted downwards so he could feel the brunt of your horns. He moved out of the way just in time, the side of your horn brushing against his arm. You crashed head first into the stone wall before you stabilized yourself and looked at the brunet with seething hatred.

He was staring at you in shock, "how're you-" You used his shock to your advantage, throwing a right hook at his face. His head whipped to the side and his body followed, sending him to the ground in a heap.

"How am I still conscious? I'm a ram hybrid, dumbass. What'd you expect?" You huffed angrily before you pried the cards out of his hand and stalked over to the tracks.

He scrambled up to stop you, but before he could even reach you, you held the deck over the tracks and looked down at him. You could just imagine how your horizontal pupils were blazing with fury.

You reveled in the betrayal and animosity gleaming in his eyes as you dangled the thing he held dearest in this hell over the railroads. If you were to drop them, he'd never be able to see them again.

"We promised not to touch belongings on our first day here!" He yelled at you, his hands wrung in front of him nervously hiding the slight tremor. "Our first day here?" You scoffed, "the last time I checked, I was here for two years before any of you showed up." You gestured around the room in one angry swipe, the cards slipping slightly with how sweaty your hands were. It was then that you saw the fear in Schlatt's eyes. Good, that bastard should be scared of you. "If anything, you all are in my domain."

Wilbur flinched at the sight of the cards slowly slipping out of your hand, his breath hitching and panic stricken across his features. Mexican Dream stood up from his place and put his hands up. He was slowly approaching you like you were a cornered wild animal, making sure that you saw his every move.

He nervously chuckled, "let's just put the cards down and have a nice talk. Doesn't that sound better than this, mi amigo?"

You shook the cards once again, taking in Wilbur's silent anguish with glee. "I'm not your friend, I'm anything but. Don't tell me what to fucking do or else that picture of Mamacita is the next to go."

"...Okay, you're in charge, man. Do what you want." He reluctantly sat back down next to Schlatt. The ram was watching in fear, yet it looked like he was entertained with what was happening. You couldn't blame him, the last interesting thing that happened was three full months ago when Tommy was taken. That and you probably looked feral at the moment.

"You understand that if you drop those, they're lost forever right?"

You threw your head back and laughed, "of course I know, why do you think I only have one sock? I already tried that shit out before you came." You hummed to yourself in thought, then grinned. Wilbur was going to love this.

While you shuffled the deck, you kept a close eye on the movement happening inside the cell. Another perk to being a ram hybrid was that you had a nearly 360 degree scope of everything around you. The only movement happening was the panicked breaths from Wilbur, good. You huffed in amusement, "alright Wilbur, let's do a card trick. I'd ask you to pick a card, any card, but I don't want to risk you fucking shit up again. So, I'm just going to draw for you." You drew a card from the middle of the deck and showed it to him. "The eight of clubs, how fitting."

"(Y/n), I don't know what you're getting at, but if you don't give me those cards right now-"

"Shut it, I'm not done. I'm going to shuffle this back into the deck, watch the hands." You kept eye contact with him as you shuffled the cards rigorously, the card you pulled long since hidden with the slight of a hand. After a bit of shuffling and reshuffling, you had sneakily put the card between the two halves and bridged them until the cards were in one pile with the eight of clubs on top.

You chuckled and pulled the top card, once again showing it to him. "Is this your card?"

He nodded slightly, never once taking his eyes off from the deck. "Yes, now give it back to me!" The angry and anxious undertones were like music to your ears.

You tapped your chin in thought, "hm, I don't think I will. You've taken so much from me, it's only fair that I get some revenge." Without another word, you threw the cards behind your head and smiled widely at the sound of the fluttering down to the tracks.

Wilbur launched himself forward with a frantic yell, his hands flailing to catch all of the cards before they were lost forever. He only succeeded in catching a few.

His breath shuddered as he stared at the three cards in his hand: the five of diamonds, the four of spades, and the seven of hearts. The fate of the universe was on your side for once, perhaps preternaturally so.

"You- do you realize what you just did?!" He spun around to face you. If humans could froth at the mouth, a full waterfall would be streaming through his gritted teeth. His eyes held the rage of a man that had just lost everything in one singular instant, the resentment swirling in his dark brown orbs. Several veins were bulging in his face and neck, painting the skin in a red hue.

You walked over to your book and plopped yourself down. "Yeah," you said with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders. You opened up your book and started reading it again, leaving the man to his grief.

Everything was quiet once more much to your delight. Though you read this book from cover to cover thousands of times, enough to know most of the words by heart, you were never able to fully enjoy and immerse yourself in it with them around. You took this time to reclaim your designated corner and spend some quality time reading.

You spent hours with your nose buried deep in your book, savoring the peace. That was until it was snatched out of your hands and ripped away from you. You looked up in slight shock at the sight of Wilbur snapping it shut and walking over to the tracks.

No. No. Nononono he can’t. That was the only thing keeping you sane. He can't just get rid of it when he's done so much towards you when you were alive.

A wail left your mouth as you tackled him to the ground, your arms wrapped around his midsection. He crashed to the ground with a grunt, his forehead smacking against the painted yellow stone. You straddled his back and ripped the book away from him, throwing it across the room and away from the tracks.

You grabbed a fist full of his hair after yanking off his beanie and tossing it into oblivion with his precious cards. You pulled his head up and leaned close to his ear, "you try that shit again and your hat and cards won't be the only things lost to the void." Venom was seeping through your every word, "do you understand me?"

He merely jerked his head to the side, colliding it with your nose and mouth. You shouted in surprise and let him go in favor of holding your aching nose. You could feel the warmth of the blood pouring from it. Through teary eyes, you looked up at Wilbur as he grabbed your book and flung it against the wall of the opposite side of the tracks. You scampered to the edge and watched in horror as it disappeared into the void.

Without warning, you were forced to the ground, a hand holding you by a horn and a knee between your shoulder blades. You struggled before a dark chuckle was heard, "if you keep moving, you'll slip! Do you really want that?" You begrudgingly stopped, realizing that he had all the power in this situation. If he wanted to, he could just slide you off from the platform and toss you away like throwing a piece of paper into the trash.

"Good, you're not as stupid as you were earlier today." He slid you forward, holding your upper body over the tracks by the horn. You came face to face with the swirling abyss that was the void, small shapes appearing from your eyes adjusting to the sudden lack of visual stimulant. Your breathing picked up as he lowered you slightly, "you don't wanna do this."

"No, I do. Thirteen and a half years of having to be around you was hell, but the shit you pulled today just put the icing on the cake. Do you have any last words before you go?"

You grunted as he shook your head slightly, a slight pain coming from the base of your horn. "Fuck you."

"How appropriate, now let's see if you'll come back this time. It'll be our fun little science experiment!"

He dropped your horn without a care in the world, sending you plummeting to your demise. A terrified scream ripped it's way out of your throat and you screwed your eyes tightly shut in preparation for the void. Your body came to a jerking halt as you held your breath, preparing for… whatever awaited you. However, nothing came.

You cracked open an eye only to be met with the uncanny inkyness, the invisible mist freezing your face and its frostbitten arms opened wide for you. But you never fell into its embrace.

Instead, you were pulled back onto the platform. You laid on your stomach with your horn supporting your head staring at the wall, tracing every single nook and cranny of the bricks. Your chest heaved as you greedily gasped for air. You never thought you'd be so relieved to see the cement walls you've been trapped in for over a decade and a half.

You were once again pulled up into a now sitting position and leaned against the wall, your back touching the cool cement. Across from you, you saw Mexican Dream pinning a struggling Wilbur down to the floor. Wilbur's crazed eyes met you, piercing through your very being. However, that didn't affect you in the slightest; you almost were just wiped from existence completely, you stared into the abyss and it stared back at you.

You felt… strange, to say the least. While icy fear and adrenaline coursed through your veins, you felt warmth blossoming in you at the same time. It was like the void was an actual person, politely giving you some form of relief from the hell you've been subjected to for over a decade and a half. It was so welcoming, not terrifying like you initially thought it was. When your fingertips grazed its surface it felt freezing to the touch, yet you felt the staticky power it was showing you. In that split moment of touching it, you had already accepted the power it held over you.

A hand softly slapped your cheek, "c'mon, (y/n). Talk to me." Your eyes drifted lazily to your twin. He was extremely pale, his eyes frantically searching your face for any sign of responsiveness. When you looked at him, he visibly relaxed. "It was so… so beautiful, Schlatt."

"Yeah, what the actual fuck did you just say? You almost just- just died for good dumbass." He looked at you incredulously, you could just see the cogs in his brain working hard to process what the hell he was seeing.

You looked back at Wilbur, he had stopped struggling slightly and was instead looking at you with a hint of confusion shining through the crazed daze. Mexican Dream tilted his head, the mask skewing slightly to the side of his face. "Thank you, Wilbur. You've shown me that there's… there's more to this hellhole than suffering. There's beauty in the darkness." His struggling had come to a complete halt, now staring at you with the most confusion you've ever seen from him. You also saw a very small hint of fear from deep within his irises.

A calloused hand gripped your chin and forced you to look back at your twin. "What are you on," he hissed lowly, "the stuff that's comin outta your mouth right now is actually batshit insane. He almost just permanently murked you and you're fucking thanking him."

"I haven't felt this at ease in nearly two decades. I feel ethereal, Schlatt, and it's all thanks to him." You let your eyes drift over to Wilbur. Giving him a content smile, you nodded your thanks at him.

The next few days went by tensely for the others, eyeing your every move and keeping you away from the ledge. You had only peered over the ledge once since then, it was just so alluring to you. It was nothing, yet everything at the same time. Mexican Dream had pulled you back to the opposite end of the room by your horns. The part that disturbed the three men was that you said absolutely nothing about it. You didn't even struggle against it, you just laid limp and let it happen.

With each passing second you spent away from the void, the feeling of utter peace was rapidly draining from your body; instead being replaced by icy fear, paranoia, and the realization that you were almost completely swallowed whole by the void.

After coming back to your senses, you didn't allow anybody near you. Your instincts going haywire and screaming that they were going to hurt you if they came close. The last time Schlatt tried touching you, you damn near took his finger off. They didn't bother trying to approach you anymore, instead glancing at you from the corners of their eyes. Wilbur was perhaps the one you feared the most, you knew that if he didn't hesitate to toss you away the first time, he would surely do it a second time. He spent most of his time staring at you, you didn't know if he was zoned out or not.

Everybody was against you, you knew it. You just knew it. They were plotting to toss you back into the void. That thing- or was it an entity? Whatever it was held a power over you that you didn't know was possible. That trance that it put you in, the craving you felt, was something that was repeating like a broken record in your mind. You could still feel the void calling out to you, it was terrifying.

You spent most of the time huddled in your corner staring at the fingers that had grazed the textured nothingness. You could still feel the buzzing and popping of the power on your fingertips, that inky residue staining your skin wouldn't come off. No matter how hard you scrubbed, scratched, or scraped, it would not leave your body. It was freezing.

The oncoming train screeching to a gradual stop was perhaps the only thing you fully acknowledged outside of your safety bubble in days. You watched in shock as it stopped at the platform. The doors opened with a fwoosh, fog pouring out onto the smooth stone floors.

Out stepped Dream, the smile etched into his cracked mask sent chills to your core. Next to him was… was another Wilbur? How in the name of Ender was that even possible?

This Wilbur was different though. This one was desaturated. This one didn't have an insane glint in his eyes, this one had grief shimmering in the tears that steamed on his cheeks. This one was broken compared to the well established man against the wall. This one was defenseless.

Dream shoved him to the center of the room, the man falling to his hands and knees. Sobs escaped his mouth as steam left his skin and drifted along the sides of his face before dissolving into the air.

"Got a new plaything for you guys, this one isn't as… fun as Wilbur is though." Dream's head turned towards you before it tilted. "What happened there? Did our dear little (y/n) get too close to the void?"

"They are none of your concern, pandejo," Mexican Dream seethed at his counterpart from his position next to the train. "Why are you even here, man?"

"Oh, I'm just here to make a trade. I'm afraid that I'll have to give you guys Ghostbur here in exchange for Wilbur."

Wilbur stared at him with pure hope and glee springing up in his eye for the first time in over a decade. "Really?"

Dream chuckled, "yes, really. What, do you really think I'd lie to you?"

"I don't know, ya smiley freak. You've been known to fuck people over." Schlatt scoffed, his ear flicking in annoyance.

"I'm telling the truth this time. Wilbur, come with me."

Stars shone in his eyes as he reveled in the sight of the open train doors. He followed the masked man with a skip in his step, ecstatic giggles leaving his mouth as he boarded.

Anger flooded you as you purse your lips together and you darted towards the train. The doors were closing already, if you could just-

The door shut with a clank, blocking you from freedom. Your clenched fists banged against the window, glowering at the sight of Wilbur's happiness and Dream looking at you with a wave.

"You fucking bastard! Take me, he doesn't deserve it! He threw his goddamned life away, you're wasting your time with him!" Your angry shouts were ignored by the two however as the train once again started moving with a small hiss.

A frustrated scream left your mouth as you pummeled the iron with your fists as it moved. If only you could find a train car to jump onto-

Now. You leapt from the platform towards the junction between two of the train cars. However, your leap of faith was set to a halt midair by Schlatt holding your upper arms. You thrashed against him, desperate to get back to the land of the living, desperate to leave this godforsaken hell called the afterlife, but once again, you were torn away from what you were trying to achieve.

You fell limp as you watched the last train car pass the platform and disappear down the tracks and into the void. The next possible time it would show it’s face would be in a few months if you were lucky. You let him take you back to your corner, your feet limply being drug against the floor. After you were plopped back down, you stared at the clone of your ex. You were pretty sure Dream said that his name was ‘Ghostbur’. What a strange name, yet you supposed that it was fitting for Wilbur’s apparition.

“Are ya done with your little ‘moment’, (y/n)?” Schlatt was kneeling in front of you, his hands prepared to grab you if you made a run for it. Though his tone was annoyed, you could detect the very small worried undertone of his voice.

You nodded and watched as he took a seat next to you, also staring at the newcomer. This is the closest he’s sat next to you in years.

“...What do you think of the clone over there?” You hummed to yourself, “he looks pathetic, but I think that might be the only thing he and Wilbur share.”

Mexican Dream took a seat next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders. Normally, you would’ve shrugged him off, but you were too emotionally drained to do so. “Si, he does look kinda weak. But I think our new hombre here has promise.”

“Promise for what?” Schlatt snorted. Mexican Dream hesitated, “...I don’t know. This is gonna be interesting, mis amigos.”

“The party’s just begun, boys. Buckle up, this is gonna be a wild fucking ride.” You mused to them, unsure of what the future would hold with the newcomer. Though after a couple of years, you were sure you were going to hate him; that is if he’s nothing like his clone. Ender help you if he’s anything like Wilbur.

As you stared at the broken man, you couldn’t help but wonder: why did he get to go back? As far as you were concerned, psychopaths like him do not deserve a second chance at life. If anything, it should be you boarding that train. It should be you getting a second chance. He was the one that so readily threw his life away while you had yours ripped away from you.

One continuous thought was circling in your mind: why couldn’t it have been me?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wrung your hands together as you anxiously waited for Tommy, Ghostbur, and Friend outside of Pandora’s Vault. Ranboo and Tubbo sat next to you in the grass, giving you silent comfort with their presence. You were mainly worried for your boyfriend, his worst fear was Dream using the resurrection book on him. You had calmed him down from a panic attack prior to meeting up with the teenagers, begging him to let you go in his place. Of course, Ghostbur being the caring and brave soul he was, wove you off and ensured that he’d be okay.

When you saw someone emerging from the portal, you leapt to your feet and steadied your head on your shoulders before you examined the people emerging. Except you only saw a human and a sheep, no ghost.

Tommy looked pale and on the verge of tears as he led Friend towards you. Before he spoke, he used his sleeve to wipe at his tears.

“Hey, Tommy! How did it- where’s Ghostbur?” The enderman hybrid stretched his usually slouched back to peer at the portal, keen eyes searching for any sign of movement.

“I think he’s dead… He’s dead!”

Tubbo tilted his head and looked up at the blond in confusion, “well, yeah. He’s a ghost. Of course he’s dead.” Ranboo nodded in agreement, “yeah, he can’t die again. That just isn’t possible.”

You said nothing (not like you could in the first place, your head wasn’t connected to your body), looking into Tommy’s eyes inquisitively. They were chock full of panic, grief, and fear, staring down at the lead in his clenched hands.

“No, no you don’t understand, it’s not that he’s dead… it’s that Wilbur’s back.”

“Hold on, the Wilbur that blew up L’Manberg? That Wilbur?” Ranboo peered down at him incredulously. “Yes! C’mon, he- we gotta get to L’Manberg.”

He spun around and led Friend towards L’Manberg, walking quickly with a purpose. You, Ranboo, and Tubbo followed. You hugged your head close to your chest, your eyes peeking over your arms. It was always something you’ve done whenever you were scared or worried about something. You heard stories about Wilbur from your nephew, if the stories of his insanity terrified you, you’d hate to see the man in person.

“I was about to kill Dream, and- and Ghostbur died. Dream revived Wilbur… Fuck!” Tommy walked faster, L’Manberg far off in the distance. With one hand, you grabbed the blond’s attention and finger spelled, ‘are you serious? He’s actually gone?’

“Yes! How many times do I have to explain this?! Ghostbur isn’t with us anymore and Wilbur’s back. Wilbur’s back and we’re absolutely fucked.” He turned on his heel and resumed his beeline towards the crater in the wall. No, he couldn’t be gone. This was just a cruel prank they were pulling on you, right?

Tubbo put a comforting hand on your shoulder, giving you a small sympathetic smile. You leaned into his touch slightly and carried on, stepping into the makeshift staircase behind Tommy.

You moved your arms to cover your eyes as you stepped aside to make room for the other two teenagers. You heard a voice; it sounded exactly like Ghostbur’s voice, yet it sounded... off. You however remained hopeful and uncovered your eyes.

The man that stood there certainly wasn’t your boyfriend. Everything about him was just so wrong. The emotion in his eyes, his clothing, his smile, his stance, his hair, everything. This was a completely different person. This was Wilbur Soot.

“Hello again.” His eyes flicked around your group, his gaze lingering on you for longer than the rest. You noticed that he was staring at your neck, but that was okay. You were used to it; everybody did that. What you weren’t used to was the revulsion that flashed in his eyes. The eyes that once lovingly stared at you and reassured you that he’d love you even with your… condition were now filled with disgust.

That was what broke you, the tears that you tried to hold in came streaming out like a waterfall. Stinging pain hit you as the water worked its way through the cloth of your uniform onto your arms, leaving steam floating upwards towards the cave ceiling. You phased through Ranboo’s body and made a mad dash towards your sister’s house. You needed her, you could feel a panic attack brewing inside you. Usually you would hate to be a bother to your older sister and Ghostbur would always calm you down, but now he’s…

You pushed that thought aside and focused completely on getting to Puffy’s house in the distance. You phased through the door without a thought to knock, frantically beginning your search for Puffy.

You looked everywhere, but you couldn’t find her. Unable to cope any longer, you fell to your knees in the middle of the living room and hugged your head to your chest, your face being pushed against your uniform. Your shoulders shook with silent painful sobs, the only sound in the room being the sizzling of your skin.

Why couldn’t it have been you? It should be Ghostbur standing there in that cavern, not Wilbur. This was completely your fault, you should’ve gone instead of him. You should’ve volunteered quicker than he did, you shouldn’t have let him talk you into it with his soothing words. Now because of your complete and utter cowardice, he was stuck in the afterlife once again. You were never going to see him any time soon. Your other half was ripped away from you because of your inaction.

Between sobs, your lips repeatedly formed the same phrase: why couldn’t it have been me?

General taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@crybabyjabby @izzybobizzy13 @goldenstarofthunderclan @bunnyz-pxstel @averytiredfanfictionwriter @dcml04 @sparkling-gayyyy @bbigbbrainn @thaticecreambish @kiinokochii @satansphatass @bxkubitch @bxmentchildxx @roxy3457 @montygator17 @feverish-dove @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @jichuuchaeng @404rynnotfound @luluwinchester @laura--444 @the-cult-classic-bitch @youngstarfishdinosaur @nottheotheruser @ohworm-writes @localwolfanon @realitycanbeajerk @v10dw4lk3r @esylwen @seraphsema @boiled-onionrings

GN reader taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@twitchchatvroom @parkeepingparker

#wilbur soot x reader #ghostbur x reader #jschlatt x reader #mexican dream x reader #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #tw: swearing #tw: death #tw: near death #tw: blood #tw: panic attack #tw: violence #tw: injury #tw: grief

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penname-artist · 2 years ago

Note

🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻

GODDAMN IT MAN, WHY XD

*counts flowers* 11, alright-

I just bought a Japanese floor mattress (called a shikibuton) and I've got high hopes for it. I'll definitely let you guys know what my thoughts are after sleeping with it for a few nights, I think it should be here on Tuesday or so. Fingers crossed it's worth the $190 I paid for it!

I want to put a fun aesthetic to my speeddrawing videos. I have a neat little basket with a clasp on the front and I want to pull out random shit from it every day. Also I have a weird ceramic ladle that sits over a tealight candle and I have no idea what it's for but it looks super cool and I want to use it.

I'm amazing myself right now at how many "healthy alternatives" I've been going for literally just because I can. I dropped my amount of sugar in coffee from three and a half spoons to barely one and I have no idea how I did it??? I prefer banana chips over normal chips now? I crave trail mix and applesauce??? Help??? Even my mom was like "That's really impressive, you're young, most kids your age eat junk food all day" and I'm like "I kNoW I ThINk I'm dYInG!"

Geckos inside of your house are seen as a symbol of good luck in some cultures. I must have been blessed somehow because we had to safely capture and remove a baby gecko from my ceiling like a week ago. He was so smol.

Although I'm past my "listening to it every day on repeat" phase, Conan Gray's "Memories" is still currently my #1 favorite song, which is weird because normally I don't have a favorite but now I do, so

Asked mom "give me something to write down, anything" and she goes "I [meaning me] have horses on my ceiling fan". And I do.

I've been playing the new Slime Rancher 2 for the last couple days and it is ADORABLE and the lighting is SO GOOD and I'm enjoying it. The grind is way harder BUT I am enjoying it

I really hope I can remember this but I have a "line a day" 5-year memory book and I intend to start it January 1st, 2023. I'm excited to spend five years of one-liners in it, but also I'm a little bit ahead of the game, if my seven journals worth of detailed storytelling over the past two and a half years are anything to go by

You remember that weird "Laurel vs Yanny" video? I can only ever hear Laurel, just, for the record

Tips for existing in the world with major anxiety issues: 1) bring a fidget toy just in case, 2) locate safe spaces such as bathrooms, bench seats, and quiet places to chill when you are pent up, 3) if you get low on energy while out and start going into shutdown mode, bring a little snack of a yummy food, eating may help, 4) don't try to overexert yourself if you know it's going to get worse, just don't do it, know your limits, 5) bring a notepad and a pencil or a pen and peoplewatch for fun, 6) you can also play fun word games on your notepad, like writing the letters of a word and then making more words with their letters (side note: "pretzel sticks" was so far one of my most word-packed words ever)

I'm deeply debating taking large amounts of time to write random and entirely non relative listings of obscure hobbies I have an interest in.

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heliosthegriffin · 4 years ago

Text

He’s channeling his energy productively.

Jaune walked down the halls of Beacon backed to his dorm, it had been a long day so far, not a hard day though, just one of those days that kept going and seemed like they wouldn’t end. Making it back to his room would at least let him spend the rest of day how’d like.

The sounds of laughter followed a group of older girls walked pasted him. It was outside of class time so the students could wear whatever they wanted. They wore clothes that were made to go clubbing.

Jaune’s eyes had a life of their own as they stared at the girls walking past, you’d think having seven sisters would make him more respectful wouldn’t you? But, having a lesbian older sister, and a couple others that were bi, all they did was teach him how to peak without getting caught.

That said he’d doubt his friends would call him out for staring, considering some of the girls here had assets that would give Yang pause.

They didn’t notice him pausing and walked by, a fragrant fruity perfume left behind. Jaune couldn’t help but look behind him, watching those girls go, a sway in their step that cause something in Jaune to rise up.

“Dammit,” Jaune cursed as his pants tightened up.

Jaune look around before he adjusted his pants, so that his zipper wouldn’t fly off by accident again, and tucking his erection down his pant leg so that it’d be less noticeable.

Jaune felt frustration well up in him, this had become a reoccurring problem since he started Beacon. The girls here were just too damn hot! It made walking anywhere a damn hassle and a embarrassment, and he had no way to release any of his damn tension in his dorm, Nora had broken the locks to the bathroom and the door; That had probably been the closest he had ever come to killing somebody.

Letting out an other sigh he resigned himself to shuffling back to the dorm as the blood went flowing elsewhere. He should just thank his lucky stars that he’d never popped a boner anywhere near Ruby, Yang would have found out somehow, probably Nora, and then killed him.

Right as he got close to the dorms, Jaune’s blood-flow was back to normal, but he still felt tense and incredibly worked up.

The sound of weights being lifted, treadmills running, and other exercise equipment sounded from nearby.

The gym was only a short walk away from the dorms. Jaune paused for a moment, Nora and Yang always seemed to go to the gym when they go worked up, maybe he should try it, it’s not like he didn’t go often anyway, so what would it hurt to work out so stress?

---------

Jaune stared at the scroll in his hands, ‘10:03′ where did the time go? He went in at ‘4:26′, went to the weight rack, and then everything seemed to go into a blur, and then the next thing he remembered was a upperclassman telling him the gym was closing in soon.

“Guess, I had more stress to work out than I thought I did.” Jaune said to himself walking to the gym showers, suddenly starting to feel exhausted and wanting to jump into bed at the closest opportunity.

-----------

The next morning was agonizing, his arms felt like they were made of pure, while on fire and being pulled apart! Maybe he went too hard last night.

He was also feeling cavernously hungry. No wonder Nora has an appetite like a black-hole.

------

Jaune’s problem came back in full force during lunch when Yang leaned too far back and the top couple buttons of her shirt decided they wanted a life in the air force.

Leaving Jaune with a delicious view of her cleavage.

Yang looked at her shirt, “Shoot, I actually liked this one.” She then resumed eating.

A hand caressing his leg, brought him out of his vision. “Are you alright, Jaune?” Pyrrha’s warm, gentle voice whispered into his ear

A mildly blush went up his face. “Yeah, just, uh, taking in the view.”

“Oh, ok then, but if your not feeling well, I can take you back to the room.”

“I’m good.” Jaune said a little too fast, as his mind started to fill in the blanks of what his monkey brain wanted to do to Pyrrha.

Pyrrha nodded.

Jaune felt thankful that Yang or Nora hadn’t found a chance to tease him about being alone with Pyrrha.

Lunch came and went, and Jaune made sure he was the last to get up, so that his problem wouldn’t be seen. He couldn’t exactly fiddle with himself under the table without drawing attention. So with all the swiftness he had, he tucked himself into his pant-leg while getting up.

In hindsight, maybe walking behind his developed female friends, and especially Blake, was a bad idea. His other head disagreed with him.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, combat class was a mess, but mostly cause he can’t being drawn to his friend outfits, they showed so much leg.

He went back to the gym again after class, he went to the treadmill and leg exercise machine. The upperclassman had to tell him to leave again.

-------

The rest of the week seemed to follow a similar pattern for Jaune, he’d wake up sore, but a little less so each day, go to class, end up aroused, then pent up, then go to the gym when he had the free time, and only when he had free time, going into those workout trances made him lose anytime for studying, hanging out, or training.

Training with Pyrrha was probably the hardest part of his week, literally and metaphorical, because while he loved Pyrrha like a sister, his body constantly reminded him that they were not siblings! It always made him feel disgusted when ever he looked at Pyrrha that way. No way Pyrrha ever looked at him that way.

After training with Pyrrha though, he still had two hours before the gym closed, and he was pent up again.

The upperclassman had told him to get an alarm or something, cause he wouldn’t always be there to tell him to leave.

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

Hanging out with team RWBY was always a... Experience, they were fun, don’t get him wrong, but it was like chaos in a bottle. The bottle was also cracked, and there was no cork either.

Today he and the rest of his team came over to hangout, and Ruby insisted they play twister.

Jaune was forming a bridge with his arms bending backwards to stay on there spot, while Ruby was draped across him with one leg over his shoulder and the other over his arm, with her front laying across his stomach, and her arms going in between and around his legs. While Nora lay under him her chest pressing into his back. It was also a really small mat.

Everybody else had dropped out, or refused to play, while Blake controlled the game, and Yang video taped everything.

Then Nora sneezed into his neck. That was the straw that broke the camels back. Sneeze both tickled his neck and scared the life out of Jaune, as he somehow managed to jump a foot into the air from his position, carrying Ruby with him. They landed on Nora with a thud.

Jaune’s position with Nora’s chest on his back and Ruby’s legs on his chest, really wasn’t going to help with his tension, as his lower-body decided to achieve liftoff.

That said he had managed to get a grip on himself lately,. So Jaune calmly got off Nora, and picked up Ruby, putting her next to Nora. All while hiding his full mast, then went to the gym again.

“You think he’s alright?” Ruby asked innocently.

“Probably just rubbing one out.” Nora said full of confidence. “These sweater puppy's of mine are of a quality most women can only dream of, yet here I sit, my majesty a reality, I don’t blame Jaune at all.”

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

Jaune was watching with wrapt attention as Ms. Goodwitch strode across the arena pointing out several flaws in recorded fights she had on holographic videos. Tapping them with her wand to enhance the smaller images at time.

RIIIP

Her blouse broke, showing off globes of creamy white flesh barely being contained by a purple bra.

Ms. Goodwitch paused, a light blush on her face. “Well, Students this should teach us to be prepared for anything.”

Jaune then got up, walking out the door.

“Mr. Arc, where do you think your going?” His teacher asked severely, as several laughs broke out of the room, many people pointing at him.

“To the gym. I don’t think I’m going to be able to focus much today.” “Very well, any others who wished to join him?”

The gym was very packed that day.

------

Jaune enjoyed hanging out with Pyrrha, she was probably the best friend he ever had. He just wished she would stop having to bend over so often in front of him, or walking in front of him when she did that he couldn’t help but focus on her swaying hips.

Jaune sighed as he felt a rise tower start to erect. “I’m going to the gym be back later.”

Pyrrha merely looked bewildered. She though she had him for sure this time!

----

The transfer students were interesting people, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of them. They came from all walks of life, all paths, all creeds and kingdoms. From the strictly dressed military like Atlas Academy, to the survival of the fittest types and loosely dressed Shade Academy, or the storied and traditional style of Mistral. They were all interesting, diverse, strong and incredible sexy.

Ever since he ran into that black haired girl and her green haired partner, he somehow kept managing to find them in the most compromising or revealing positions possible.

So, Jaune started hitting the gym harder than ever.

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

1 Year later....

----

With a slight shaking arms Jaune pushed the loaded bar back up, exhaling. Then he took a slow, deep inhale as he lowered it down to his chest, then exhaled rising it up again. Inhale, exhale, till he finished his rep.

He rose up from the bench with a grate moan, feeling the warm soreness across his body. It hurt, but in a good way. In a way he couldn’t have appreciated a year ago.

Grabbing his towel he wiped the sweat off his face, and then cleaned off the bench. Treat the gym right, and it’ll treat you right back.

Jaune paused as he walked toward the shower, he had gotten into a habit of showering here so he didn’t have to make his teammate's rush to clean up, there was wall of mirror he looked himself over finding nothing of note, beside himself sweaty and his hair kinda sticky looking.

The water was cold, but high pressured, helping unwind any knots on his back and wash off grime better. He had started taking cold showers more frequently as in the field your rarely got to wash off in general, and if you did, it’s not likely you’ll get hot water, so it he thought it was probably best to get into the habit now.

Working out felt good, taking a shower afterword was just perfect. The only thing that would make it better was wearing his onesie, he had a right to comfort! But, it had gone mysteriously missing after he met Coco on his walk back from the gym half a year ago. So, for now he was stuck wearing white tank-top, and a pair of cotton shorts back to the dorm.

He waved by to the upperclassman about to close the gym, and left for his dorm. He may not have started going to the gym for the right reason, but over the course of a year, he felt like he had grown from then. In fact... what was the reason he started going to the gym? Something about women? Eh, must have been nothing. Ever since he started taking his training double seriously during the Vytal festival, it was like he just didn’t feel dating anybody till he around to being a huntsman, like that there was more to life than dating or stuff.

Jaune ran a hand through his hair, he had started growing it out at the beginning of the second year and now Pyrrha and everybody else vetoed him getting a hair cut!

“Hahah, jokes on them though, they have to brush the knots out of my hair!”

Walking back to his dorm a fruity perfume pasted his nose, a vaguely familar laughter along with it. Then a slightly familar group of girls were walking in the opposite direction as him. They looked like they came back from a night on the town. He liked the way they dressed, it complimented themselves very well.

As he walked pasted them they paused and stared at him, Jaune paused too, but shrugged, giving them a broad smile and a wave before walking back to his dorm.

Jaune failed to miss the women eyeing fucking him as he walked away, all of them red face and heavy breathing.

“Hmm, why do I feel like I’m in danger?”

----------

Jaune wasn’t sure when, but he had grown into a morning person. It was fun to get up in the morning now, he liked watching the sun rise, seeing the sky change colors on his morning runs.

Being team leader meant having responsibilities, so being a early riser now meant getting up his team, they were going to be third-years in a not small amount of time. So he made sure that they got up at a reasonable time to prepare for the day. Along with the fact on mission they would have to get up before the sun rise on most days.

Also, he especially liked to watch his teammates get up, it was entertaining in different ways from Nora crashing out of bed, to Ren rising from a blanket cocoon, and Pyrrha’s silly little death threats to any man stealing bitches out there.

He tended to wake them up with a gentle approach putting hand on there shoulders and carefully shaking them awake. He had forgotten how strong he was a couple of months ago when he sent Nora flying into a wall by accident, so had tried to be gentle.

The rest of Team Jnpr had learned a couple months ago that they no longer had a choice in waking up early, the only choice was before the sun was up or after.

Jaune put on his uniform for class, he frowned a little bit, as it was tighter than it was yesterday. Maybe it’s new? Guess it needs to be broken in.

Team RWBY met them at breakfast, Ruby refused to let her other bestie get ahead in the leader game by letting just JNPR get up early! Jaune didn’t notice but he often got murderous glances from Blake.

Eating breakfast Jaune felt a crick in his back so he leaned back.

Pop-pop-pop-pop, RIIIIP!

His buttons on his shirt fired off like a machine gun shattering against the walls of the cafeteria, and then his shirt fell to pieces, revealing his sculpted torso, arms and abs.

“Ahh man, I liked that shirt.” Then continued eating, not aware of the stares his friends, other students, and Ms. Goodwitch were giving his body, eyeing him up as much or more than he used to do to them.

AN: If this Jaune was ever put into a situation where couldn’t exercise for like a week, his libido would come back with vengeance and make him a unstoppable sex monster. That said, what are the odds of that happening?

#Jaune Arc #Not quite crack #Slight Himboification #Team JNPR #Team RWBY #Glynda Goodwitch

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latuuart · 3 years ago

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Rei is not responsible for her husband, but she was a woman with a great quirk and plenty of opportunities to protect herself or their children. She is not a modern day abused wife with no power. I bet there are doctors/detectives with quirks like an actual lie detector. Would All might/others ignore her if she asked for help? She wasn't a nobody. Not to mention that she maimed one of the kids herself. Also, weird that none of the older kids ever reported this to their school, especially Natsuo

Hmm.. I'm not gonna assume anything about you here anon, but let me share a bit of experiences that I had with a few women in an abusive marriage here in my workplace.

These women came to me not for their situation. They came to consult about their children' condition. But, as we were talking and I was giving them consultation, these women couldn't help but blurted out the situation of their household. It's the pent-up feelings, they couldn't help it anymore that they told me about their husbands' violence towards them, some of them were crying when they were talking about that.

One woman came at me, initially came to consult about her right ear. It looked red and felt painful when touched. I asked her what happened. She said she fell. But, (from experiences and knowledge) the appearance of her ear and the other signs also the symptoms that she had did not really look like someone who has just fallen. It looked like it was gotten from a blunt trauma. And I asked again because it's always important to make sure the cause of the condition. She told me then, while crying, that her husband punched her. Not just on right ear, but also on her face, if I'm remembering correctly, there was subtle redness on her face too (I don't remember exactly it was on her right cheek or her nose, my encounter with her happened more than a year ago).

Do you understand what I'm trying to say here, anon?

It is never easy to tell people that your husband hit you.

It is never as easy as coming at the police then saying "hi, my husband hit me, please arrest him".

It is also not as easy as you think to tell other people about your household's condition. Those women told me because they saw me as a trusting figure, someone who would believe them. And I did, I do. It's not easy to tell people that you have been violated (in any way) that's why when someone come at you and say how they have been violated, it's always better to believe them, because it takes a lot of courage to speak up and how there always must be (even if just a little) an uncertainty in your head that people wouldn't believe what you said.

Enji is a powerful man. A very powerful one. One is denying the truth if saying he isn't. Take a look at how grateful Rei's father when Enji pursued his daughter, praising Enji's status and all. It shows just how high Enji's status was (still is) even comparing to Himura Family's status.

Next, coming at All Might? Like, coming at your husband's co-worker telling that his friend is hurting you at home? Does it sound usual to you, anon? Also, can we even trust the Heroes Society at this point? Did we ever see 1 (ONE) pro-hero confronting Endeavor for his past abuse or even just providing comfort to Rei and her children post Dabi exposing Enji? So easy to gather supports when you are a powerful man in a powerful position, huh?

Next, no, you are wrong. It is not weird for children to not talk about their abusive household. I will share another experience from my workplace. This kid was beaten by his mother and his mother's new husband. People from his neighbourhood took a pity on him (because they knew there was abuse going on towards him in his house for years) and took him without his parents knowing to us to check his condition, for this matter then to be able to be taken into the police. He did not want to talk at all, did not want to tell us anything at first. From a looong persuasion, he finally admitted what his mother and step-father had done to him.

So, if you never ask, why would a kid tell you their parents are hurting them at home?

Think about it again, please anon.

It is never easy to tell people someone that is supposed to love you, provide care to you, cherish you, is actually hurting you at home.

I also would like to add, about Rei's power, it is still forbidden for her to use her power, because she is no hero at all. Remember the Heroes Society's silly rule? You are not allowed to use your power if you don't have a permission. And, do you expect her to fight Enji? The hulk, big man, twice her size, the number 2 hero? He didn't have a problem with slapping and throwing her to the ground when she didn't even do anything to hurt him back, do you expect her to want to end up like the villains in their battle with Endeavor? She wasn't stupid. There's a difference between bravery and stupidity.

The last one, why would we talk about Rei so much here? If we want to talk about the core problem of the Todofam's abuse story, let's talk about Enji. In case you forget, the scar on Shouto's left eye, it wouldn't be there if Enji wasn't an as*hole. Rei hurting her son wouldn't even happen in the first place if Enji wasn't an abusive bast*rd.

So, let's stop this victim blaming energy (and kinda victim doubting energy too, because what it is supposed to mean when you said it's weird that the victims never reported the abuse before...). I'm sorry if there's any of my words that is probably rude and offends you, not my intention here, truly. But, I have to admit that I kinda got worked up when answering this (and it must be showing in my words) because this is such a, truly, a sensitive topic. Abused women are exist out there, and there are so many of them.

Worldwide, 27% of women aged 15-49 years who have been in a relationship report that they have been subjected to some form of physical and/or se*ual violence by their intimate partner.

The prevalence estimates of lifetime intimate partner violence range from 20% in the Western Pacific, 22% in high-income countries and Europe and 25% in the WHO Regions of the Americas to 33% in the WHO African region, 31% in the WHO Eastern Mediterranean region, and 33% in the WHO South-East Asia region.

Globally as many as 38% of all murd*rs of women are committed by intimate partners.

Abusive relationship and abusive marriage are common. It is out there, 1 of 4 women out there experiences that. And it is only a number of women who have reported that, how about the unreported ones?

And if this world is such a safe place, just report to the authorities then it's done (just like you said just Rei reporting to All Might or other people so it would be done?), why the number is still so high?

Don't forget about Rei's feelings towards Enji, too. I doubt she loves him, but I also doubt she hates him and wants him to d*e or suffer. She is so much of a soft soul to be wanting that and it must be a complicated feeling to have if we picture ourself in her position.

Please, when talking about victims (of any situation), when we talk about what they are supposed to do and what they are not supposed to do, always remember, can WE do that if we are on their position?

Again, I'm sorry if my (long) rant answer offends you. Hope we can discuss about another subject other than this. Have a good day.

#rei todoroki #natsuo todoroki #bnha #mha #my hero academia #bnha spoilers #boku no hero academia #anti endeavor #dabi #anonymous #latu post

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makeste · 4 years ago

Text

BnHA Chapter 282: Aizawa Defeeted

Previously on BnHA: Oh my god do we even care about that at this point. Tomura made a speech; Gran Torino died; Deku lost his shit and tried to strangle Tomura to death with his bare hands; Ryuukyuu came back from Wherever She Was and tried to grab Tomura but he punched a hole through her giant hand; and now he’s grabbing his Quirk-Be-Gone bullets and is ready to cause some mayhem okay?? That about sum it up?? Is anyone even reading this?? CAN WE JUST GET ON WITH IT I’VE WAITED AN ENTIRE WEEK.

Today on BnHA: Well I guess let’s start with what doesn’t happen: Bakugou doesn’t lose his quirk. HE LUCKED OUT!!... for now, anyways. Because, thanks to a near-impossible-to-predict series of events (seriously, raise your hands if you had “Aizawa gets shot but goes full World War Z on his own ass” on your bingo card), Tomura has seemingly regained his regeneration powers, which means that his other quirks are probably back online as well! So we’ll see how that all goes. Anyway so in the meantime Shouto’s back, looking very mad that everyone temporarily forgot he was a main character. And Gigantomachia is back as well! Or almost, anyway. Also, you’ll never guess who broke another one of his arms! Go on, guess. But at least he still has the arm, though, which is more than we can say for certain other people’s limbs. Poor Aizawa is literally on his last leg. He and Tomura really got off on the wrong foot. He chopped his leg off, is what I’m saying. It’s that kind of chapter folks.

you guys I’m losing my whole fucking mind. I straight up deleted the tumblr app off my phone for 24 hours so that I wouldn’t be tempted to log in and risk potentially being spoiled. and I’m happy to say that it worked! so here we are now, completely spoiler free, and let me just say that if Horikoshi decides to cut back to Gunga Mountain now, I will either cry for hours or abandon the series forever and go do something more productive with the rest of my quarantine like learning how to play sad songs on the guitar

all right. here goes

so we’re opening with Deku, who is currently comprised of 100% rage and 0% mercy, and is doing that thing where only the whites of his eyes are visible. and basically he’s just thinking “I’VE REALLY GOT TO HOLD ON TO THIS GUY AND MAKE SURE HE DOESN’T DO ANYTHING ELSE HOMICIDAL.” which is a solid game plan, but perhaps not so easily accomplished

-- oh my god this poor kid is still in denial, I can’t. why are you doing this

is there even still a Gran Torino to tend to at this point? after Tomura bulldozed a hole through his torso, and you went and finished the job with your own fucking attack? sob

but I guess the law of Tragic Shounen Mentor Deaths mandates that Gran’s should be at least as drawn-out as Nighteye’s was, though. so he’s probably only Mostly Dead, which is still Slightly Alive if I remember my Princess Bride correctly, and I think I do

so now the rest of these stooges are finally catching up with us here

yes, my friends. a bullet. WELCOME TO MY LIFE FOR THE PAST FUCKING WEEK. anyways I have a LOT of pent-up energy here just fyi. there may be a lot of unnecessary screaming in this recap

FUCKING WYOMING SMASH Y’ALLSSSS

I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT JUST HAPPENED SOB. DID HE JUST HAMMER FIST TOMURA’S HEAD INTO THE GROUND. DID HE SNAP HIS FUCKING NECK AT 100%. IN AN IDEAL WORLD HE WOULD HAVE JUST CHOPPED TOMURA’S ARMS OFF WHILE SOMEHOW MANAGING TO AVOID BREAKING ANY OF HIS OWN BONES IN THE PROCESS, BUT I HAVE A FEELING THIS SITUATION WILL NOT BE RESOLVED IN ANY KIND OF MANNER ONE WOULD CONSIDER “IDEAL”

(ETA: fun fact: this attack did absolutely nothing except make things approximately 100x worse. but you tried Deku. you tried.)

THE FUCK KIND OF PORTENTOUS BULLSHITTING TITLE IS THIS. OH MY GOD, I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT EMOTION I’M HAVING RIGHT NOW, IT’S JUST A LOT OF LOUD THOUGHTS

anyway so if you’re just joining us, Tomura just pulled two bullets out of his pocket, the good guys finally noticed, and then Deku did a smash and everything exploded. the radius of this attack actually looks wide enough to have potentially involved Aizawa, who probably does NOT want to get any debris in his eyes right now, and also Gran, who probably doesn’t particularly want to be hit by another deadly attack for the third time in the past ninety seconds. anyway so I guess what I’m trying to say here is WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THAT YOU LITTLE GREEN LUNATIC

AHHHHHH

he got the one!! the one that was in Tomura’s right hand!! but what about the one in his left ahhhhhhh

(ETA: lmao at Kacchan being the one to blow up the same bullet I was so sure he was going to be shot with. saw the writing on the wall, huh kid? what do we say to the god of foreshadowing?? ‘NOT TODAY.’ ...except that we’re still not actually out of the woods yet so you still better watch yourself lol.)

...

based on the font here, these are Tomura’s thoughts. which he is thinking immediately after getting the lower half of his jaw very painfully cronched by the VERY homicidal sixteen-year-old still clinging to him. anyway so Tomura’s thought processes are as inscrutable to me as ever lulz

and Deku’s arm looks broken again, yaaaaay. but at least it’s his left arm and not his right! so that’s nice. now they can match

[SHRIEKS]

HE YEETED IT. IT HAS BEEN YEETEDED. HE DID A YEET. [sobbing] he DiD a YeEt oH my GOD

DID IT HIT SOMETHING!?!?!?

my reading process here is as follows: 1) scroll down exactly one panel. 2) scream even though absolutely nothing has happened yet. 3) WRITE THAT DOWN 4) REPEAT

DKSFJLKHSDLGKHLI

DID IT HIT HIM!?!? DID IT GET HIM IN THE LEG SOB ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS. JUST LIKE THAT?? BOOM GUN BULLET LEG!!?

YOU GUYS IT REALLY HIT AIZAWA AND NO ONE DID A GODDAMN THING?? it wasn’t even drawn out or anything??? it just HAPPENED, within like four pages??? NO SLOW MO?? NOT EVEN A REACTION PANEL WHAT THE FUCK

son of a bitch I would so dearly like to grab Manual and RockLockRock’s heads right now and just conk them together real hard. YOU STUPID FUCKS sob YOU HAD ONE JOB!!! IT REALLY WAS JUST ONE!! AND YOU WERE SHARING IT!! SO IT’S MORE LIKE HALF A JOB!! AND YOU STILL COCKED IT UP IN ABSOLUTELY NO TIME AT ALL OH MY GOD

(ETA: they should blow this panel up and make it into a t-shirt and make Manual and RLR wear the shirts every day for the rest of their lives. half a job, you guys. please go away I cannot even look at you right now.)

FUCK MY EVERYTHING

(ETA: I still can’t figure out if this horrific angle is due to the earlier damage from the Noumu, or if Tomura really just flung the bullet THAT hard. honestly I’m surprised it didn’t just slice right through him with that kind of velocity. “no thanks because then I wouldn’t get to write a scene where he chops his own leg off” oh okay well when you put it that way, Horikoshi.)

if I recall correctly this is the leg that he said was “twisted”, no? yeesh. might just want to chop it off real quick, then. s’not like it’s doing you any more good. does anyone know if zombie rules apply or not with this sort of thing?? shit

?!?!

“THANKS”?? okay what. did it hit him or not??

-- oh my god WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT

I WAS -- I WAS JOKING I -- FFFFFFFFKJK

jesus fucking christ. when I said “might just want to chop it off real quick” literally FOUR PARAGRAPHS AGO, I can tell you that the one thing I did NOT expect was for Aizawa to be all, “you know what, that’s a good idea”, and then YOINK OUT HIS TRUSTY HERO SHANK AND GO FULL 127 HOURS ON THIS BITCH. "LALALA WE’RE GONNA DO IT RATIONALLY TEEHEE” like excuse me, the fuck

anyways. I don’t even know what to say. thank you Aizawa’s leg for your sacrifice, and for always supporting him. literally. oh my god I came here ready for my son to enter a new phase of character development, and for the manga as a whole to enter a new phase of glorious, glorious angst. no one told me I’d be sitting here making puns instead. what a fine, confusing day

anyway though let’s just fucking hope it worked. and side note, if Aizawa Shouta really did chop off his own fucking leg just now and somehow STILL managed not to fucking blink, I think we might as well just go ahead and hand him the Biggest Badass In The Series award right now because no one is ever going to top that. nope. not happening

it is truly a testament to Shigaraki Tomura’s unfathomably mysterious sexy villain energy that he still somehow manages to look hot with only half a face

also no one in this manga actually feels pain, do they. not Deku, not Aizawa, not Tomura, no one. no wonder none of them have any self-preservation instincts to speak of

did someone just randomly explode just now. at this point it might as well happen, right

oh it’s the shockwave from Deku’s Wyoming attack, apparently. how nice of it to have a delayed reaction for absolutely no reason

anyway so Deku’s being flung back, but he’s grabbing onto Tomura again with Blackwhip. but oh shit you guys, if Tomura escapes Deku and Ryuukyuu’s clutches and still has any bullets left in his pocket, we may still be able to salvage this Bakugou quirk situation after all. would be nice to be able to actually do something with all of these “happy quirk losing day” balloons that I ordered

(ETA: actually, believe it or not I honestly like this better. Tomura using AFO was always the more dramatic option anyway. and now that we’ve done the bullet thing everyone has presumably let their guard down again, which, good.)

I love how Tomura apparently hasn’t noticed that Aizawa’s just amputated his own leg? to be fair he’s probably distracted by all the explosions and such

also gotta love how Deku’s arm-breaking attack seemingly just made everything worse for no reason. and also how Manual and RockLockRock are once again just standing there doing absolutely nothing

SO NOW GUESS WHAT’S HAPPENING

I MEAN IT! GUESS. BECAUSE YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE LOL

OH WELL OKAY THEN

just like we all saw coming!! ...

so is this Endeavor’s attack?? Bakugou’s?? either way, hot damn. fortunately for Tomura he is apparently operating under the same guidelines as the U.S. Federal Reserve, in which mutilated bills may still be exchanged at face value if more than 50% of a note identifiable as United States currency is present. basically as long as roughly half of him is still vaguely Tomura-shaped I assume he’ll be fine

(ETA: in hindsight I should have immediately been able to identify this as a Shouto attack based solely on how murdery it was lol.)

OH MY GODDDD

KRANCH?!?

OH MY GOD LOL WHAT. LOL. REMEMBER EVERYONE’S THEORIES FROM LIKE TWENTY YEARS AGO LOL. SHOUTO WHAT THE FUCK. DID YOU STOP FOR DRIVE THRU

AND MEANWHILE DEKU’S BACK ON THE SCENE GIVING ARGUABLY EVEN LESS FUCKS THAN BEFORE, IF SUCH A THING IS EVEN POSSIBLE. SO FAR THIS CHAPTER HAS PRECISELY ZERO THINGS THAT I ACTUALLY EXPECTED IN IT, WHICH IS VERY IMPRESSIVE

IT ALSO HAS A LOT OF SMASHING

a LOT. of smashing, guys. feels like... 60% smashing, 20% severed legs, 20% Kranch

-- oh no oh SHIT oh shit oh shit

(ETA: um so I really can’t tell how far that wound extends and whether or not Aizawa still has his right eye, shit.)

first of all how did Deku get here next to Aizawa when he was just over there with Tomura, what. and second, I think Aizawa just blinked, oh shit. probably on the verge of passing out after CHOPPING HIS OWN LEG OFF which STILL hasn’t been acknowledged yet?? did I just completely misinterpret all of that back there or what

(ETA: there was seriously so little attention called to this that I scrolled back up to confirm it probably like half a dozen times. apparently Horikoshi thinks that THE MOST BADASS THING TO EVER HAPPEN IN THE MANGA should be completely downplayed. whereas if it were me, there’d be an entire two page spread of JUST THE LEG. WITH MUSIC PLAYING. EVEN THOUGH IT’S A MANGA.)

YEPPPPPPP. fuck

look at him though. he’s so happy. this is why I can’t stay mad at you no matter how deranged you get you little maniac

so is quirk-stealing back on the menu then or what. don’t think I’ve been lulled into any kind of false sense of security by any of this lol

-- ARE WE SERIOUSLY CUTTING AWAY

so Todoroki really went after them ALONE. the better to put his dad right back up at the top of the Lose Your Quirk Sweepstakes finalists. well... second-to-top, maybe. like I said I will not be lulled

yuh-oh

why do I feel like the odds of Gigantomachia arriving to herald the end of this chapter just shot up DRAMATICALLY

so the next page is almost entirely just a list of cities that the news anchor is telling people to evacuate because they’re in Machia’s path. along with a bunch of dead heroes lying around everywhere, and Ochako being all ominous

(: weren’t they, though? heh. this is going to be so, so bad (: (: (:

-- fuuuuuuuuuuu

aaaaaand that’s it. hahahaha. okay then let’s summarize

Bakugou defied all expectations and kept his quirk (FOR NOW)!

Aizawa cut his own fucking leg off and it WASN’T EVEN REMOTELY ACKNOWLEDGED FOR REASONS I CAN’T UNDERSTAND (R.I.P. AIZAWA’S PRECIOUS LEG. YOU ALWAYS PUT YOUR BEST FOOT FORWARD)

Kranch showed up after 157 years and is probably wondering why the heck I keep calling him “Kranch” now. THINGS CHANGE WHEN YOU’RE MIA FOR A WHILE MY LITTLE STARBUCKS CHRISTMAS CUP

Deku broke his arm for the 78th time

Tomura regenerated but seems to think Aizawa’s quirk is actually gone for good, which I’m pretty sure it’s not. so if they can keep him from destroying everything long enough for Aizawa to turn it back on again, we might possibly still survive this

and lastly, Machia is about to kill all of these stupid people frolicking around outside of this fitness club who are probably so proud of themselves for not being glued to their phones 24/7 because they prefer to LIVE LIFE IN THE MOMENT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. well that’s on you my friends. at least it’ll be a quick death. ffff

#bnha 282 #aizawa shouta #shigaraki tomura #midoriya izuku #todoroki shouto #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #sorry for all the leg puns #it's in my nature #I can't help it if I find this kind of situation humerus #...oh no wait that's arms #dammit

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firefly464 · 4 years ago

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Hello wonderful! I love your writing a ton!! For the Drabble fic on ao3, I was wondering if you could write about SBI, specifically Techno and Phil learning what happened? Ty have a lovely day!!

Oooooo i like this one 👀

lots of hurt/comfort potential :D

ok so in this one we’re gonna pretend that smp!tommy actually grew up with the sbi, and they are actually his family instead of him just showing up in the middle of the woods without any memory. He still probably just appeared in the woods, but he can remember. Also sam and tommy made communicators after tommy complained about the lack of phones because sam is just cool like that

Original Story - Other Drabbles

~~~

“Get the fuck away from me!” Tommy cried out, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and anger. He couldn’t help but press himself further into the corner behind him, trying to put as much distance as possible between him and the man in front of him.

Techno held his hands out, trying to appear as harmless as possible. “Tommy, its ok. I’m not going to hurt you. I just want to know why you’re in my house.”

"Oh, you’re not going to hurt me?” he scoffed slightly “Please. I don’t believe that for a second. What happened to ‘Blood for the blood god?’”

The man froze, his eyes widening. He had never told anyone other than phil about the voices that haunted his every movement, the voices that were constantly screaming at him, calling for violence. “How... How do you know about that?”

His younger brother didn’t respond, instead only pushed himself even further back.

“Tommy, I need you to be honest with me. How do you know about that.” His mind was racing with different explanations, but it all came back to a single thought.

His fear only grew as the silence stretched out. “Tommy, have you... have you been hearing the voices?”

“The fuck are you on about?” he muttered quietly. It had none of the fire that used to fill his every word, and his eyes were no longer a vibrant blue. They were dull, void of life.

Techno stepped closer, placing his hands on Tommy’s shoulders, making him flinch in fear. “Look at me.” He demanded.

His brother slowly met his gaze. Techno frowned. There was no light of bloodlust in Tommy’s eyes, only a dull emptiness. He took a step back and pulled out his communicator, already typing out a message. The response was almost immediate.

“What did you do...? Who are you texting?!” Tommy demanded, unable to keep the fear from creeping into his voice. “What the fuck did you say?!”

“Tommy, take a deep breath. I just messaged phil, that’s it. He’s on his way.”

“What the fuck?! Why?!” Techno couldn’t help but notice the way that Tommy’s words were now filled with fear and desperation, rather than energy and flame.

“Because he knows more about this than I do, and I need to figure out what’s going on. We’ll figure this out, ok?”

~~~

Tommy was still huddled in the corner of his small cave when he heard the door open above him. As voices began to float through the opening that led to the rest of the cottage, he pushed himself further back, trying to disappear.

He knew that he could easily just leave through the small tunnel he had made, but he couldn’t bring himself to move. Maybe it was out of fear, maybe it was because he knew that he had no where else to go. If he tried to run away, he would be alone.

His thoughts were interrupted by a chipper voice “Tommy! Tommy you- oh dear, you look very sad”

He glanced up slightly, slightly surprised to find himself face to face with the ghost of his dead brother. “Hi Ghostbur...” he said solemnly.

There were so many things that he wanted to say in that moment. ‘Why did you leave me. Why did you leave me alone again.’ The words got caught in his throat, leaving him unable to speak. He could only give an empty smile as the ghost handed him a small bottle, filled with powdered blue pigment.

“Have some blue!”

Tommy stared at the bottle for a moment, before glancing back up. “Thanks, Ghostbur...”

“Alright, that’s all well and good, but we need to have a serious talk about this” Techno’s voice came from behind Ghostbur, though Tommy had already reverted his gaze back to the floor. “Tommy, how do you know about the Blood God?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he cursed himself for ever opening his mouth. How long had it been since he slipped up? Since he had caused someone to worry like this?

God, he was so sick and tired of dealing with all of this shit. He just wanted to go home. To his real home. He wanted to see his family again, his parents. It had been years since he had last seen them, and it still felt like an open wound whenever he thought about it. For fuck’s sake, he was supposed to be in university right now, not trying to recover from weeks of exile and isolation.

“Tommy, its ok. We can help you, I promise.” Phil’s voice could be heard from somewhere else in the small cave, but Tommy kept his gaze trained on the small bottle in his hands. “Just tell us what’s going on, we can help you through this”

The boy couldn’t help but flinch as someone placed a hand on his shoulder. He hastily pulled back even further, trying to avoid the contact. He shut his eyes in a desperate attempt to keep tears from spilling over.

“Tommy...” Phil’s voice dripped with pain and grief for his youngest son, “It’s ok, we’re your family. We can help.”

“No you’re not...” the words escaped him before he could do anything, before he could think twice about what he was saying.

A small gasp could be heard, though he couldn’t tell who it was from. “What? What are you talking about? Of course we are...” Phil asked softly, though Tommy could hear the hurt in his voice.

Something snapped inside of him. He wasn’t sure what it was, but suddenly, he could feel as nearly 4 years of pent up pain and frustration came pouring out of him. “No you’re not! You’re not my fucking family, stop fucking acting like it!” The tears that he had tried so hard to keep hidden began to pour out. “My family is gone and I’m never going to fucking see them again”

“What? Tommy, don’t be silly, we’re right here!” Ghostbur said, in his annoyingly chipper voice. “Here, you seem stressed. Have some more blue,” he said as he held out another small bottle.

Blue pigment covered the floor as Tommy slapped the bottle away, his eyes alight with raw anger. “I don’t want some bullshit blue powder, I just want to go home!” Ghostbur’s expression filled with confusion, which only served to fuel his anger. “Don’t you fucking dare look at me like that, you already fucking know this shit”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, that’s right, you don’t fucking remember, because you refused to admit that your little brother was gone, and he wasn’t fucking coming back!” The room fell silent as Tommy took a deep breath, desperately trying to regain his composure. “Because you refused to admit that he chose to leave you, and you blamed me for it instead”

“What are you talking about.” Techno’s voice was low and quiet, the threat in his tone clear as day. “What do you mean he’s gone. What did you do to my brother.”

Hearing the threat in Techno’s voice seemed to break the dam that Tommy had so carefully built up inside him. What had been pure anger and rage was quickly replaced with pain and sorrow. He could feel as the tears began to pour down his face in a rush, leaving him coughing and sputtering as he tried to breathe.

Phil took one look at the sobbing boy and quickly rushed over, pulling him into a tight hug. In that moment, it didn’t matter to him what was going on. All he cared about was his son needed him.

Desperately, Tommy hugged Phil back, his hands clutching the back of phil’s shirt, as if Phil would vanish the moment he let go.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, with him desperately trying to calm down, and Phil silently comforting him. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. He didn’t know.

When he finally calmed down enough, he pulled back and wiped his eyes. “I’m so sorry,” he said softly, “I’m so sorry. I never wanted any of this.”

“Shh, it’s ok. Why don’t you start from the beginning?” Phil kept his voice calm and steady, silently offering his support.

With a small nod, Tommy told everyone the story. He explained the swap, explained his old life. He talked about his parents, and his friends. He told them about how he had found himself in this world with no explanation, and how he had destroyed his only hope of ever returning home. He told them about how Wilbur had kicked him out of L’manberg when he had originally found out.

By the time he was done, he was crying again. And based on the sniffles that he could hear, he was pretty sure Phil was crying as well.

“So yeah. I’m not your son, or your brother. That Tommy is gone, he has been for years. I- I’m sorry...”

Before he could even process what was happening, he was engulfed in another hug. However, this time he could feel the arms of not one person, but three. Three separate pairs of arms wrapped around him, offering their support.

“Tommy, I don’t care what dimension you’re from, or if you don’t really consider us you’re family. You’re still my son, and I still love you unconditionally. Understood?” Phil said quietly. Tommy could only nod slightly in response.

“You might not remember all the shit you did when we were little, but you’re still the same nerd that tried to steal my sword when you were ten,” Techno’s voice, which was normally deadpan, was now filled with affection for his younger brother.

Ghostbur was the last one to speak. But when he did, he sounded sad, and filled with regret. “Tommy... I don’t know what Alivebur did to you, or how he treated you, but just know that I’m not him. I’m not going to hurt you, ok? You’re still my baby brother...”

The four of them were quiet for a while, the only sounds coming from Tommy’s quiet sobs.

Finally, a quiet voice cut through the silence. “Thank you...”

~~~

Im gonna put the taglist in this one because im proud of it. Let me know if I should continue putting the taglist in drabbles, or if i should just keep it to the actual chapters themselves :D

@hismilw @violet--majesty @chiera99 @koi-boye @waffle-time-god @miss-oleum @porkgavor @crafted-dreams @harley-the-pancake @lemonaid-ruru @luminousart @g3rmpy @bee-tubbo @firepowder @boombahey @rayjayo @carry-on-my-wayward-why @echo-delta @star-fruit23

#Philza #ph1lza #tommyinnit #technoblade #Wilbur soot #wilbursoot #sleepyblr #sleepy bois inc #dream smp #mcyt #the real world #my writing

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nataliavega · 2 years ago

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hello it’s me back at it again, but this time with a character you don’t have to hate 😌 (unless u want to, idk ur life)

Full name: Natalia Estelle Vega Nicknames: Tali (by her family), Nat Gender: cisfemale Pronouns: she/her Birthday: December 12, 2001 Zodiac: sag sun, scorpio moon, taurus rising Sexual orientation: she’s currently figuring that out Marital status: single Teams/clubs: center forward on the soccer team, theatre collective Three skills: tying a knot in a cherry stem with her tongue (a party trick she loves to bring out from time to time), crying on command, embroidery Trope: the understudy

stuff and things

Nat is the youngest of 5, with 4 older brothers

her family is incredibly religious, but especially her mom

she is a daddy’s girl through and through with somewhat of a strained relationship with her mom, though she’s adopted many of her mom’s superstitions like taking luggage outside on new year’s and you’ll travel the world, no sweeping at your feet or you are doomed to never marry, having to tell someone about your nightmares or else they’ll come true, etc.

went to an all girl’s catholic school for her entire k-12 education, so she’s got some pent up rebellion to let loose

dated Nate for a while, still kinda tied up in that

is a huuuuge lover of books, big main character energy, likes to romanticize her life as though it were a novel.

she is very body and sex positive since she grew up in such a stifling household, but she’s still largely figuring it out. big fake it til you make it energy here. girl doesn’t really know what she’s doing

she wants to be an actress but she’s always the second choice. she’s got a huge complex surrounding that and it manifests in bouts of pettiness and brattiness and pretty much all the negative traits of a baby of the family

she’s super friendly though!!!! most of the time!!!!

#ogdenintro #about

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petri808 · 3 years ago

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Bakudeku canon divergent, vampire quirk AU

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24

For the next several days, Bakugou stopped in towns along the train route that were in the easterly direction to see if any other strange reports had been made. He wasn’t sure if the first man’s attack had anything to do with his friend, but in the towns, he was able to confirm a sighting of a green streak, there were coinciding reports of attacks in the days preceding them. Always a similar story, late at night, didn’t see the attacker, and bite wounds on various parts of the body such as the arm, shoulder, or even neck. The other thing they had in common, were the victims were found in drunken stupors. Was it a coincidence? What was another coincidence, is after the first victim, the rest were all what police classified as problems. With or without quirks, they were bad men who had lists of crimes under their belts. That meant whatever was causing the attacks now appeared to have a specific target.

Bakugou stood in the Ena township police station, tapping his foot to release some of the pent-up energy. “Yesterday,” he questioned the desk sergeant, “are you telling me that attack was just yesterday evening?”

The man nodded. “The victim is still in the hospital being treated for low blood levels. They’ve had to keep him sedated through the IV infusions because he wouldn’t stop screaming about a man with green eyes.”

“And there’s no other incidences?” The officer shook his head. “That means the attacker could still be here.”

“Wait, do you know who it is?”

Bakugou shook his head no. He wasn’t about to tell some beat cop who he suspected it could be. “It’s just based off the pattern I’ve been tracking. There are usually a few attacks over the spans of one to three days, and then they just end. So, if this was the first, it means there will be more.”

After speaking with the cops and getting a map for the area of the latest attack, Bakugou staked out the scene. There are no traces left behind to say who or what had caused the attacks, but what he did notice of the area is it was a seedy side of town. The victim said he’d been pulled off the main street into an adjoining alley way around 1 am, too quickly to even get a scream out. He remembered the time because the bar he’d just left had hit its closing time. The alley was narrow, and empty save for a few dumpsters for neighboring shops, no doorways or lighting, perfect for hiding in.

‘Tonight, is still a new moon…’ Bakugou noted, which added to the dark cover of night. After his reconnaissance, he went back to his tiny hotel room to get a few hours of sleep. It was going to be a long night.

It was a decision he didn’t know if he would come to regret someday, but in the end, the blonde hero realized that his flashier costume would make him stand out way too easily. So, after foregoing his costume, Bakugou dressed all in black for the undercover work. He climbed to the roof of a building, dead center of the area the attacker might choose in the hopes that the green lightning seen by eyewitnesses will be the tell-tale sign he’ll be able to use to track the person. Patience wasn’t exactly his virtue, but it was the only way he was gonna catch the guy.

The first night’s stakeout yielded nothing. No sightings, no attacks. Which could mean anything or nothing. Previous attacks didn’t always take place every night in a row, but it could also mean the attacker had moved on. Did they catch-wind of him being there and fled? Damn he hoped not! This was the closest he’d come to catching up to the green lightning! Two nights later, Bakugou was growing disillusioned. Every day he checked back with the authorities to make sure no other sightings had been made in town or in surrounding cities, and with the answer being ‘no’ each time, there was a small glimmer of hope he was still in the right place at the right time.

But as he laid on a rooftop on the night of day 4, a lot of thoughts were plaguing him because there was nothing to do while waiting but think. Sometimes he would run the events of that AFO fight though his mind trying to remember any little details that may help him. Other times, it would be about Midoriya and what could have possibly made the man run off like this. Those thought’s either left him broken or wanting to strangle the guy for causing them so much pain. Midoriya better damn well be ready to do a hell of a lot of apologizing to their friends and family!

Bakugou grimaced at the last thought. Such personal emotions he would rather lock away into some box deep within the recesses of his soul than to admit the truth. He told himself he was doing this for their friends. He tried to convince himself that he was doing this for aunty Inko and to make All Might proud. These were a part of the search, yes… but not the full reason. The blonde had to admit he missed the stupid nerd. Midoriya was his childhood friend, and no matter how much shit he gave the guy, he was the one person he could count on. He was still determined to beat the mouse and become the Number one hero… but he was also proud of how far Midoriya had come in the last three years. It would be a shame for it all to be thrown away now.

Just as he was ready to call it a night, Bakugou heard a muffled scream from a nearby street. He rushed over as quickly as possible, racing into the alley way just as the unconscious victim’s body is being laid down. Bloody hell he was right all along!

“DEKU?!”

All he could see was the person’s back, but he’d know those red shoes anywhere. The mousy green hair looked even wilder than normal. Midoriya still had on his costume, but it was torn up with a raggedy cloak swaddling his upper body. Simply put, his friend looked like a homeless man off the streets. The figure froze for a second, then without turning to face off against Bakugou immediately flashed with green and took off into the sky. Green lightning!

“DEKU YOU, FUCKING ASSHOLE!!!” Bakugou blasted off after the man. Damn it, his gear would have helped with the propulsion! He couldn’t remember him being so quick before, what the hell was going on? Midoriya was streaking away, zigzagging along roof tops, and heading towards a section of industrial warehouses. If it wasn’t for the quirks electrical output to tell him where to go, he could easily lose sight in the darkness.

He gritted his teeth and pushed his quirk to its limit. There was no way Bakugou was going to screw up this opportunity. So, if he couldn’t catch up, he could knock the nerd out of the sky! “ARRGHH!!!” He sent repeated AP-Auto shots towards Midoriya at medium power, growing angrier as the man dodged the first few volleys. “THAT’S IT!!!!” In his rage, Bakugou increased the spread like buck shots of crackling fire ringing around the fleeing figure, and he kept up the pace in rapid succession.

“AHHHHH!”

The scream pierced the night and Bakugou saw several hits knock the man off course, barreling the body straight for the ground. It wasn’t his intention to hurt, but damn it, Midoriya shouldn’t have run in the first place! He turned on the turbo and reached the man just as he was trying to get back on his feet.

“Don’t fucking think about it!” Bakugou grabbed the man’s shoulder and whipped him around. “Goddamn it Deku! What the fuck is your problem?!”

“K-Kacchan, wh-wh—”

“Don’t you Kacchan me, you bastard!” He gripped tightly so that Midoriya can’t squirm away easily. “Did you think I wouldn’t come looking for you idiot!”

“Yes.”

It was as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Okay, he should be surprised by that answer. When had he ever acted like he cared when it came to Midoriya? But that didn’t mean such a quick and blunt response wouldn’t hit him like a brick to the head. And you know what, he has shown he cared in his own way. Damn it! When has he ever just left the man behind? His fist balled up and cocked back, striking Izuku hard on the chin and sending him back to the ground. “Stupid fuck!” Bakugou spat the words out before dropping to his knees on top of the man. “I ought ‘a beat the crap out of you right now for even thinking that!”

But Midoriya shoved back trying to push the man off. “What the fuck are you talking about?! You don’t give a shit about me, never have! When the hell did you start caring?!” He kicked and twisted, fighting the larger male. “Get the fuck off me! I can’t stay here!”

“You are coming home with me Deku whether you like it or not!”

“NOOOOOO!!!” Midoriya activated his quirk up to 70% and bucked Bakugou off him. “It’s too dangerous, Kacchan just get away from me!” He took a stance to spring himself back into the air, but the blonde scrambled and jumped on top of him, pushing him back to the ground. “Get off, I don’t want to hurt you!” Midoriya screamed. This was getting out of control. Exhausting so much energy on Bakugou was stirring up his hunger and if that happened, he didn’t know if he could control himself.

“What the fuck ya gonna do, drink my blood too? What the hell is going on with you Deku?! Goddamn it tell me what the fuck happened in that forest!”

“Y-You know about that?”

“How do you think I tracked your ass down?!”

The pain is his stomach was rising fast. Midoriya winced as the rush of blood sounded off in his ears and other tell-tale signs progressively made its entrance. This was not good! “Kacchan please,” his voice whined and pleaded through the aching throb in his core, “let me go before something happens.”

“I don’t care what it takes Deku, I can’t lose you again.”

“I-I’m so sorry Kacchan.”

Bakugou’s eyes widen as he saw a dark red sheen enveloping the whites of Midoriya’s eyes. Is this what happened when he’d attacked all those men?

Every last nerve was fighting against control. It was an option Midoriya didn’t want to use, but if he could control it just a little longer, all he wanted to do was give himself a head start. “Please,” he begged one more time, “just forget about me Kacchan.”

“Get it through your fucking head! I’M NOT LEAVING YOU!”

That was the last thing Bakugou remembered…

#bakudeku #katsudeku #bakudeku fan fic #bkdk #ktdk #bakudeku fan fiction #bakudeku canon divergent au #vampire quirk #decchan #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku

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