#that's not actually the ability to opt out it's the ability to take gut punches and not feel it
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dreamyintersexouppy · 1 month ago
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haiii green back with another gender thought, realized that as boy as i may be i still exist in a transfeminine body and live a transfeminine life, even if i don't specifically identify as transfeminine i still exist in a tma space in the eyes of society, my gender as a boy doesn't really affect that much. the people who know me and treat me like a boy are not treating me like i'm tme they're just respecting me... so basically all the tmra boys are jealous of me, the one true trannyboy
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catgirl-catboy · 5 months ago
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Which Ace Attorney characters can you beat in a fight:
Phoenix: I know he looks like a weakling, but this man has canonically gotten into a fistfight before and the other guy died right after. Even after the death, he was still PISSED. Do not fight Phoenix Wright. Not only would you lose, Phoenix would not stop punching if you went down.
Maya: You can easily win- Maya learned how to fight from anime and it shows. You'd think spirit channeling will help you out, but it takes time and focus, neither of which Maya would have when she's busy eating pavement.
Edgeworth: You could win, but it would not be worth it. He would file charges for assault, and you'd have to deal with Gumshoe hating your ass for the rest of your life. Can you imagine having to explain having Gumshoe as an enemy? That being said, before you take the dive, be sure to ruin his dumb ass cravat. You're doing him a favor.
Gumshoe: I don't think he'd fight back unless he's on the clock, but he absolutely could beat you.
Franziska: 100% my most controversial opinion on this list, but I like your odds. She has a whip, but I doubt she has actual fight experience. Who would fight the daughter on Manfred Von Karma? You, that's who! I also think you'd avoid the legal charges you'd have to deal with from Edgeworth, because Franziska would want a rematch.
Pearl: It'd be tough, but you'd win. Cartoon logic aside, she's eight and wouldn't know any of the classic dirty tricks. Since you have longer arms, I think you could prevent her from doing too much damage. That being said, the fact that it was close at all would make you a laughingstock. Also, Morgan would go all Karen on your ass for fighting Pearl, even if she started it.
Mia: There's no way to sugarcoat this, but you're going down. Mia can and will fight dirty- that magatama would get jammed into your eyes if we're talking a serious fight. Redd White, despite running a blackmail company and looking much stronger than her, opted for a weapon and so should you.
Godot: Out of all the people on this list, I'd want to fight him the least. Hot coffee directly to the dick, and then he'd start bludgeoning. Depending on what point in the timeline, he's been in prison too, so fight experience is a given. Your only hope would be to say something ??? enough to make him decide a battle of words is the better option.
Apollo: His perceive ability would give him an edge in a fight, but he's such a butt-monkey it wouldn't even matter. You're winning this, but like Edgeworth, he's going to get legal about this. He's too poor to afford a good lawyer, so I wouldn't be too worried though.
Kristoph: You can win, but you'd die of a mysterious poison two weeks later. We just don't know what could have happened!
Klavier: You can easily win, but for the rest of your life you're going to be known as the asshole that beat up beloved rockstar, Klavier Gavin. Its social suicide. Just take the dive and maybe destroy his career after if you're vengeful.
Trucy: She absolutely knows how to kick your ass, but she's socially astute enough to know when it is better to take a dive. My gut says that she'll probably let you beat her up, then talk about how her entire family is made of lawyers so you settle it out of court. Even if you win, you lose.
Ema: You have about 50/50 odds, but unlike most people, Ema has no limits. This isn't about pride, its about morbid curiosity. Realistically, this is the second most dangerous fight after Godot, since who knows what chemicals she has on her?
Athena: Simon absolutely taught her how to fight. That being said, she isn't in the right headspace for fighting, and I imagine it would remind her of the UR-1 incident. The fight would be with her past, not with you. That being said, Athena can and will tell everyone present about about why you are so bloodthirsty, which is worse, actually!
Juniper: Mess with Juniper and you get Athena.
Simon: He'd kick your ass, but he'd do it in a way where you're pretty much fine the next morning. He'd be fair about it and not hold grudges. Pretty enjoyable fight experience overall.
The Phantom: easy L, you've signed your death warrant. Even if you somehow win this, you're still dead. This isn't even a fight, this is assisted suicide.
Nahyuta: I know he looks like a twink, but with his background he can and will kick ass. That being said, I think you should fight him anyway because it'd be good for his pent up frustration.
Kay: I think its pretty safe to say you'd lose. She was raised by a cop, and would fight dirty. Still a 50% chance of getting sued by Edgeworth, even though Kay begged him to let it go.
Sebastian: He's a joke character. He'd win, because him winning a fight is the funniest thing that could have happened. He probably didn't even realize you were fighting. And if you're talking post AAI2, I think he'd genuinely be able to beat the average person with his baton. It'd be close, but he'd win.
Ryuunosuke: I know he has a sword but still one of the easiest fights on this list. Do it. You know you want to.
Susato: This one is a pretty canon no.
Kazuma: No fucking way, and after what he did to the Payne family you shouldn't even try. Sword aside, he could do this unarmed.
Van Zieks: This may be controversial, but unless you happen to be British he's too busy thinking racist thoughts to notice you punching him in the gut. Not only should you fight him, I think you're morally obligated to do so. Steal some of his wine while you're at it it'll be wasted otherwise.
Sherlock: He wouldn't fight back because he finds the concept boring. Bring him a bear to fight, maybe then you will see the powers of a great detective!
Iris: Ignore everything I said about Pearl, this isn't even a fight, this is a massacre. Not only will she beat you within an inch of your life, she'll over you tea right after so you think the two of you are cool. Do not be fooled! The latest edition of Sherlock Holmes needed a fight scene, so your shame is broadcast all over the world!
Gina: Regardless of if you win or lose, you're losing your wallet.
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limitlessgojo · 3 years ago
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Blood Bound: Blackened Bond (Ch 15.5)
Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood
Previous Chapter: Shadows Fall
Next Chapter: Non-Standard
Word count: 2.4k
Tags: Kamo Noritoshi x Reader, Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader
Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast @nayydoesthings
Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, and specify if you're okay with nsfw posts or not, please mention it in the comments below ty❤
Author's Notes: This is a deleted chapter but I decided to just put it as an extra/half chapter. I took a step back to assess my drafts and deemed that it didn't need to be in the story for it to be cohesive. But this is full of extra info that will be quite significant in the chapters to come^^
土御門天皇
Chapter 15.5: Tsuchimikado
“Geto Suguru has pronounced war against the Jujutsu Society. We are expecting there to be an ambush here in Kyoto and one in Tokyo Shibuya. We must prepare thoroughly. Amongst the students we will only be asking Jujutsushi of Grade 3 or higher to assist us in this battle. And you may opt out if you do not wish to fight. But your help will be highly appreciated, especially on such short notice.” Principal Gakuganji ended his speech by looking at you dead in the eye.
And deep in your gut, you knew you didn’t have so much as a choice. You were going to fight this battle as a Special Grade sorcerer (and being the only one in this room at the moment), whether you liked it or not. So you gave a short nod in return.
“I’ll be joining. As the future clan head of the Kamo clan and the eldest son, this is not a matter to be ignored or taken lightly.” Your head whipped around to face Noritoshi and to your biggest surprise he was looking straight at you. Then he turned to nod to Principal Gakuganji who nodded back approvingly.
“I’m always up for a good fight, so of course I’ll be joining. Can’t miss out on a chance to beat down curses.” Todo grinned and cracked his fists.
“Will you join, Tsuchimikado?” Utahime asked.
Everyone was silent as you looked at her then the Principal. “Of course I will.”
Everyone else called out to say if they were participating or not. After the meeting was finished after several more announcements, and you left back for your dorm rooms.
◇◇◇
The next day, Utahime sensei called in some students plus Hiroki into her office. You all filed in, wondering what it was about. Hiroki nudged you, “Why am I here with yall kids?” You pinched him in return.
Outside the door, you went face to face with Noritoshi. He gently called your name, “Good morning Y/N.” You just purse your lips and nod.
In this time of war, you need to set aside all personal matters. It’s all business; everyone had to cooperate together to have a chance of surviving.
You counted and named the people present. Noritoshi, Todo senpai, You and Hiroki. That was it.
Utahime let you all sit down on chairs facing her desk before calling your attention, “So, I called you all here today, because we have some information on the possible curses that might appear here at Kyoto. As you know, Geto Suguru has the ability to manipulate and take in curses.
We know of some grade 1 and special grade curses. I decided that amongst the students, the three of you are the most capable in handling those. Hiroki san, you’ve stated that you’ll be fighting alongside your cousin, so I brought you in here today so that both of you can prepare together.”
He grinned, “Of course Utahime san. We got this in the bag sis.” He punched you softly in the arm, and you softly hit him in the head. A childhood habit of yours.
So Utahime sensei then explained and listed off the curses that are known to be in his possession. All of you paid close attention and took notes. Most were Grade 1 and 2.
“And finally. We know of another Special Grade curse, the Giant Black Tsuchigumo of Kyoto. This curse is-” she continued to speak, but it felt like radio static on your end. You couldn’t hear anything anymore.
The blood drained out of both your and Hiroki’s faces. ‘Huh? I thought that nightmare was already done and gone. Whatthefuck’
Your right hand shot out to grab at Hiroki. Utahime paused at the sudden movement. It was getting harder to breathe, and you could feel the onset of the panic attack kicking in.
You’ve done so well recovering from anxiety attacks over the years, but this just made you feel so helpless. “Sorry, can’t breathe.” You gasped out.
“Give her space!” Utahime and the others pushed back the chairs and desk. Hiroki caught you as you leaned your forehead against the top of his chest and settled on the ground.
“Breathe in 2 3 4, hold 2 3 4 5 6 7 8, out 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9, and again,” Hiroki repeated your go to breathing exercises, ignoring how your nails dug into his arms. It took you a good 7 minutes to calm down. “I’m so sorry,” you apologized, wiping your sweaty palms off your thighs.
You looked down at your hands to see them still shaking. Utahime, Noritoshi and Todo were all kneeling with you on the floor. “Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Utahime patted your head lightly.
“Tsuchigumo. That big black one is dead. I have no idea which one you’re talking about right now, but the one that reigned in Kyoto is dead.” you said. “Gojo Satoru and I killed that curse back in late 2007.”
Noritoshi inched closer to you. Hiroki stiffened, watching him closely, but he didn’t do anything to close the gap. He just stayed by your other side, a silent and steady presence.
Utahime reached out to wipe your sweat with a towel. You only noticed now that the room has been rearranged, chairs pushed away to make a bit of space. There were cushions on the ground for everyone to sit on.
“Drink.” Hiroki pushed a cup of hot tea into your hands. You nearly spilled it, but he cupped your hands firmly, helping you drink. You leaned against your cousin, sighing at his warmth.
Hiroki spoke up, “As you can see, it is a bit of a touchy subject for the both of us. Our clan had a bad run in with that Tsuchigumo years back when sis was only 6 years old. But we are pretty sure that, like she said, Gojo and Geto san have gotten rid of it.”
Utahime nodded, “Geto did huh. Then he must have taken it in during that time.”
Noritoshi looked at you and realized that something far worse than just an attack happened. “Your sister,” he spoke quietly, “was she…?”
Hiroki raised his eyebrows. “Yes, our Sora was killed by that Tsuchigumo.”
The atmosphere in the room turned heavy and almost unbearable. Utahime looked concerned, “We need as much information on that Tsuchigumo as we can. Y/n, can you tell us anything?”
Oh yeah, just the one memory you’ve desperately tried to forget your entire life. Still you nodded.
Hiroki squeezed you.
“So basically.” You paused. “One night when I was 6, Sora neechan was like 10 years old. We got attacked near the Kiyomizu shrine. It was getting late, the sun was setting. But we were up at Daimonji-yama to play, and there were barely any people around. It wasn’t too dark yet, but it was really quiet.” Your teeth were practically chattering.
Noritoshi met your eyes and for a moment you wanted him to hold you. Until you remembered you were supposed to be angry with him, so you brushed it off and looked elsewhere.
“Satoru nii and Geto san were actually in Kyoto at that time to visit us. So I remember calling Toru nii and screaming for help, he was on my speed dial. He told us that we could call for help anytime. We are pretty much like siblings to each other. So he would always come to our aid. Right niichan?”
You leaned into Hiroki as he let out a small “Yep. He never lets us down. Dumb as he is.” Your lips actually quirked into a small smile at that.
“Sora and I basically had to hold off the curse until they got there. But it was strong. As you know, Tsuchigumo are earth spiders. But this particular one reigned in Kyoto for so long. Like centuries. It was so strong it ate every other tsuchigumo, making it grow bigger. Still, it rarely comes out to feed and is adept at hiding. We like to think of it as a smart curse. Every bite is laced with poison.”
“Back then I only mastered basic freezing and wind manipulation techniques. I couldn’t make barriers yet. And it really…” you closed your eyes remembering that sense of helplessness you’ve felt like never before.
“It was the worst 10 minutes of my life. I couldn’t do anything to hurt it. I had another technique I was working on, but it involved using reverse cursed techniques which I didn’t perfect yet. And I didn’t like playing with fire as much as I did with water and ice.”
“I froze it several times, but my technique was way too weak. It kept breaking free. Sora nee didn’t even have a cursed technique; she couldn’t fight. But still she felt responsible for me since she was older, so she …” you stopped. You closed your eyes and tightened your fist.
At this point your nails were drawing blood from your palms, but you didn’t feel the pain. “It’s so stupid really.” You laughed out loudly trying to distract everyone from the tears that were forming in your eyes.
Noritoshi reached out to you. But Hiroki’s eyes flashed at him in warning and he dropped his hands. Your heart squeezed painfully.
“I was just a stupid kid, who let her weaker sister take the shot of poison from that Tsuchigumo, instead of facing it head on. She wouldn’t let go of me no matter how hard I tried to put her behind me. A huge part of me was scared and terrified that night of course. I didn’t know what to do and I was such a coward. It was about to hit me until Satoru nii came.” You took a deep breath and forced out the remainder of the story.
“So I actually did manage to activate my reverse cursed technique towards the end, but it was too much. I burned nearly half of the mountain…. My mom had to help in restoring a large part of it afterwards. Satoru finished it off and carried us away immediately.”
“But Su- Geto san. Like he has the cursed spirit manipulation right? I never realized if he took it in or not really. I never particularly cared about it that night, because Sora nee was dying in my arms.” You rushed your words and pushed further into Hiroki’s arms.
“It was a bad omen for our clan,” Hiroki’s teeth were gritted tight as he relived your stories. “For such a powerful and evil curse to share a part of our namesake, only to hurt one of our own. After that day, we hunted down all the Tsuchigumo we could find across the entire country as a priestess told us to do so to cleanse our clan of a lingering curse. But… for some reason it was never enough. Now we know… it still lives with Geto san.”
“What painful memories,” Todo cried. “We will help you take it down, y/n. And I don’t doubt that you can defeat it the way you are right now.” You were touched by his words.
“But can you face it once more?” He asked.
“I’ve been training all my life for a day like this. Of course I’m going to throw that thing into the depths of hell.”
“Careful there.” Hiroki nii was eyeing you carefully. “You tend to rush headfirst when you’re being controlled by your emotions. You’re too reckless lil sis.”
“That’s true.” Noritoshi hummed. You glared at him. “If it’s to save a life, why not.” You shot back and had a stare off with Noritoshi.
More like a one sided glare on your part and him lovingly looking back at you with a sad smile. Noritoshi’s bond mark burned.
"Ahem." Hiroki cleared his throat loudly and everyone turned to him. "I'll be watching over lil sis here so it should be fine. I'll be joining this war anyways."
You smiled at your cousin gratefully.
“Well then. That was the last curse that needed explaining. I think the four of you are suited to taking them down. You’re all dismissed.”
You all nodded at Utahime, rising to your feet along with everyone else.
◇◇◇
“Y/n! I need to talk to you.” Mai said urgently. She followed you back to the first year dorms after class. You had told the first years about the special grade curses you were expecting to see in the war.
Mai looked particularly shaken upon hearing about the death of Sora. She was always the cool and calm one amongst the first years, besides Mechamaru that is. So this was very new.
“Of course, come into my room.”
You served her tea and cakes, before kneeling down on your floor cushion.
Mai threw her arms around you. Your eyes widened as her arms tightened around your shoulder. You cautiously put your arms around her.
“I know how it feels….. To lose an older sister.”
You flinched, “Is yours-”
“She’s alive.” There was a different pain in her eyes. And that was then you realized that she must have been left behind.
“Grief is the loss of a person. Someone could be going through a divorce or a break-up and experience grief. You could lose an important person, while they’re still alive and it’s still considered grief.” Mai said.
You wanted to cry, but your eyes ran dry. All you’ve been doing is crying yourself to sleep night after night lately. Your soul was still longing for Sora when she couldn't be reached anymore.
Noritoshi was different. He made it clear that he’s still running after you, never stopping to call out your name even if you ignore him in the hallways. But you were not willing to touch on his matter as of now.
Mai told you all about Maki and her life in the Zenin clan. How she was left behind and forced to be a Jujutsu sorcerer. Everyone has their issues deep inside, but you’re all still pushing and coping as you fight curses.
You buried your hair into Mai’s chest. “I’m sorry you experienced that Mai. You’re such a brave woman for doing this everyday even though you’re afraid of curses.”
“You get used to it.” She sniffed.
You sat there for a while, just hugging her.
“Wanna watch sappy romcoms with me?” You peeked up at her from her arms. “Of course.” You both smiled at each other.
Author’s notes: Tsuchimikado translates to “Emperor of the Earth”, while Tsuchigumo translates to “Earth Spider”. Thus, with how Tsuchi (meaning earth), both names share common Kanji. They are a strong clan that can heal and guard living beings and plants. And Tsuchigumo are expected to be easily defeated by them, being an earth creature. But, as Hiroki said, it was a very bad omen when Sora was killed by one.
Blood Bound: Table of Contents
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atsukashii · 4 years ago
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❝r.i.p to the youth❞ // e. kirishima
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SYNOPSIS: ➛ The world has gone to shit and you have lost almost everyone close to you, including Kirishima
» CHARACTER PAIRING: eijiro kirishima x reader
» WORD COUNT: 5.6K cause i have no chill again
» GENRE: apocalyptic au, aged up characters
» WARNINGS: major character death, ANGST with fluff ending, blood, swearing
« masterlist || ao3 »
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You were only seventeen when the world had gone to shit. You had been studying with your friends at U.A when you watched the news roll in, villains had popped up everywhere in a large scale attack. After that day, the world had never been the same. Led by Tomura Shigaraki, the league of villains now held hostage the world, ruling it in the very way they knew how. Now labelled The Purge, many of the top heroes were wiped out in the first few months, and more as it followed.
Now today, five years later, you are still trying to survive through an apocalyptic world, where ones who were only students when it started, are now leaders of rebellion… the only force to attempt to rise up against the villain dictatorship. The Rebellion Army was created by pro heroes once the fighting began, however as the years passed, there were newly inducted commanders in charge more frequently than there ever should be. You are one of them. Along with your previous schoolmates and close friends, Izuku, Shouto, Bakugou, Iida, and Momo, somehow you had all become the leaders of the rebellion army. All the previous pro heroes either having been killed or forced into solitude for their safety and the safety of the rebellion. Together, your spread out force had managed to locate some of the existing pro’s, however, they opted to be the voice of reason and advice, and decided to leave the leadership to a bunch of twenty-year-olds. You were inducted as a commander just over two years ago due to the strength of your quirk, your incredible strategic skills, and your ability to be stealthy was far greater than anyone else. You had earned that rank in a time where you didn’t want it. All you wanted was for this all to end.
Looking down at the picture in your hands, you wish you could turn back time and transport back to it. It had been a few months before The Purge began, where the only concern you had was if you were going to pass your final exams, your work-study, and your boyfriend. Not the fate of the world, or at least not until you were a pro.
In the faded image, you were shielding your eyes from the sun but had a bright grin on your face. Your thighs were draped over a shirtless male torso that had your heart hurting inside your chest. He had a carefree, teeth-bared grin on his face, his eyes squinted shut in the sunlight, as he held onto your legs to support you. He looked so happy that day, in fact, you all were. You and your class had gone to a water-park, as a time to relax and just have chaotic levels of fun. It was one of your last good memories before it all fell apart. And now, this picture with your boyfriend was your greatest treasure. 
Because two years ago, villains had discovered your previous location and attacked out of the blue. It had been pure chaos and a mad scramble to evacuate and get away with as few casualties as possible. It was one of the worst days of your life. Because that day, you had been separated from your boyfriend and once the dust had settled, he was gone. You had searched for days, not eating or sleeping. The only thing on your mind was finding Eijiro Kirishima, if it was the last thing you did. You were only forced to stop when Bakugou pulled you away, kicking and screaming.  Everyone had said he was dead, and that you needed to accept it, but Bakugou just reiterated the same line over and over.
‘Shitty hair wouldn’t fucking die like that. We’ll find him y/n.” yet here you were, two years down the line, with still no sign of him. So like everyone else, you had accepted the fact that he was no longer going to be around, and when you found yourself deep within a pit of depression, it was your friends who pulled you from it, helping you take a step every day. You weren’t over it, and you knew you wouldn’t ever be. For that red-head who was sunshine personified was the love of your life, and he always would be.
A knock comes from your closed door, and hesitantly, you shift your gaze from the photo in your hands to the figure now poking their head through the partially cracked doorway. Momo’s kind smile meets you, and when she sees the tattered picture in your hands, it morphs into something soft but laced with pain. You aren’t the only one who is hurting from his passing, it has affected your friends and comrades too. There was too much death these days, too much for people to bear.
“It was a very fun day.” She says, walking over to where you sit on your bed, before sitting next to you. It had been one of your best memories with Kirishima, yes, but also with your other friends. Some who weren’t around now…
“And so different to life now.” You reply, pushing the picture back under your pillow before you turn to your friend and fellow leading commander. “What’s going on?” There had to be something for her to come and get you during your break.
“Shouto wants to move the stealth operation to today. He says he’s got a bad feeling about tomorrow.” You’re not surprised by the idea, so you just nod, not questioning your friends’ instincts for a second. Being in charge of such a large operation, all six of your close friends have learnt the inner workings of each other's minds. And when someone has a gut feeling, a hunch, you follow it, because nine times out of ten, it’s right. And in a world ruled by villains, being wrong means death, and that’s something you don’t want to see happen ever again.   “We want you to lead it.” Of course.
The argument sits heavy on your tongue, but something inside you like always can’t seem to let it out. Maybe it was the guilt, or the fear of not being there to stop something bad from happening again. Because not long after you had lost Kirishima, you had lost your mentor, your work-study agency leader, your friend, in a stealth mission gone wrong. You had almost died that day, unable to save your mentor. Instead, Keigo Takami had saved you, and you weren’t going to let his sacrifice go to waste. You were going to protect every single one of your friends, even if it meant you died in the process.
“Alright.” Together, you both stand and begin the walk to the meeting room. The second you walk in, your eyes meet your four commanding friends, as well as three others. You smile at Jiro, Sero and Shoji before sitting down at a vacant seat. “What’s the plan?” You ask the quiet room, listening as Momo points towards a map of the city in the centre of the table, explaining the plan.
“Jiro’s ear jacks are going to eavesdrop on anything audible inside the warehouse. Shoji and Sero, you are on lookout, and  Y/n, you are on escape routes.” Everyone in the stealth team had quirks that allowed them to do their job quickly and efficiently… but you were just there as back up, as a walking bomb ready to go off if something detrimental should occur.
You’d lost half of your quirk the day you had almost died, and witnessed your mentor sacrifice himself for you. Those flames, ones you can manipulate yourself- but failed to, burnt your wings until the weight that had rested between your shoulder blades your whole life, was gone. Now, you could manipulate fire, but hadn’t used it in almost a year, instead, focusing on hand to hand combat. After that day, you could barely glance at flames without either making yourself sick, or having flashbacks powerful enough that they seemed as if you were actually trapped back in the past. The sensation… the scent… the burning… the screaming.
“Live, little firebird. Save us all.”
Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a sigh before standing to your feet. Everyone in the room looks in your direction, and you look at Bakugou, one of your closest friends and look into his eyes, trying to ignore the nagging thought that they look similar to Kirishima’s.
“We leave at 22:00.” Momo nods to you across the table and you look to your friends who are risking their lives alongside you. “Let’s get some dirt on these assholes.”
                                            ҉  ҉  ҉  ҉
“We don’t get closer than ten metres to any entrance or exits of the building.” You whisper, using your very very little air manipulation to help your words travel to your friend’s ears. You see all three of them nod in response as you creep down the abandoned alleyway. The world is so quiet, the only noise was the slight breeze and trash being moved across the street from it. Everything about this area was abandoned and for good reason. You had discovered through one of the rebellion’s many spaced out informants, that they had seen S class league members frequently visiting this warehouse. This mission wasn’t to take more than two hours, that’s what Bakugou had drilled into your brain.
“Don’t be fucking late because I’m not coming to look for your dumb ass.” You weren’t a moron, which is what you had responded with and you could have sworn the blonde wanted to punch you in the face. It was the usual really, the urge and not the actual physical blow - that never happened. However, you knew that if your team didn’t show up, the blonde would come looking for you and not stopping until he dragged you all back and then tried to kill you himself for being stupid.
Normally, other than villain activity, it is quiet in this part of town. The previous residents having abandoned their homes the second the league of villains moved in. So you are surprised when Shoji gestured to you only thirty minutes in.
‘Figure. 2 blocks.’ He gestured with his hands, not risking to speak so close to the building. Sure you are on the second floor of the building next door, but with Jiro’s quirk in use, you aren’t going to distract her either.
‘Villain?’ You question, using both your hands to communicate the thought back. Shoji shakes his head and instead waves you over to his position. Silently, you manoeuvring until you are next to him, looking out the broken out window at where he is pointing - straight towards a figure staring at the building you’re currently listening on. The person is completely decked out in all black, and you definitely different recognise them, not that you could make out much of their figure other than the fact they were tall and bulk, probably male. If he were a villain, surely he could have just walked towards the building instead of peering at it like a predator watching its prey.
In silence, Shoji and you watch as the figure moves towards the building, carefully using the shadows to hide their body as they slip between alleyways and across the street. Okay, so not a villain… Suddenly the figure disappears behind an alleyway and you look at Shoji with a frown. What the hell was someone that wasn’t a part of the rebellion doing here?
From what you were aware, you were the only current branch within this area, the rebellion spreading wide across both Japan and the world, all under different titles and names, however, you were the leading force in this city, and possibly Japan. You would know if there was another organisation within the city limits. So who the hell was that?
Jiro taps the floor twice and your eyes look to Sero, holding his binoculars, directed straight at the warehouse. They were wrapping up. You tap your wrist to signify that you were to head out in one minute, when a gasp suddenly breaks the silence. Oxygen leaves your lungs as Shoiji tackles you to the floor. Wheezing, you don’t question in when heat engulfs the world outside the window. Your ribs scream in pain from the impact, but over your friend’s shoulder, you see the bright blue flames lick across the ceiling through the open window. Blue flames.
Your screams bounce across the concrete walls of what once had been an office building but was now nothing but rubble. Blue flames lick over your shoulder blades and neck. Your spine, engulfed in a pain you never thought possible, but what has you screaming is the image in front of you. You look up into Dabi’s smirking face, his blue flames swirling around his scarred fist. “This is the end of the line for you gorgeous.” He raises his hands in front of your face and for a second you close your eyes, praying for it all to be over. But then there’s a thump, and you watch in horror as Hawk’s - beaten to a pulp, lands in front of you, his scarlet red wings spread out behind him shielding you from the blue flames.
“Live, little firebird. Save us all.”
The last of his feathers grip your clothes, and you slam out of the rubble, dragging you across town as fast as they can. You cry out and beg to stop as one by one, they fall to the ground, losing their power, until you lay on the sidewalk outside the warehouse on your stomach, trying not to scream. You knew your wings were gone, the heavyweight you had held up your entire life wasn’t there. Only pain, god so much pain, you wanted to die. You had only passed out after you’d heard people mumbling above you, and at that point, you hadn’t cared if it were villains… you just wanted it to end.
Those blue flames… They had brought down your old compound that day, and you had been flying people out of the burning building when you had bumped into Kirishima, about to sprint into battle to join Bakugou and Shouto. You had wanted to beg him to stop, to just get out of the building, but that’s not who you were, and it definitely wasn’t who he was.
“Don’t worry angel, I’ll be back. Get everyone out and I’ll meet you at the safe-point soon.” Kirishima says, kissing you on the forehead before racing out. You hadn’t even had time to tell him you loved him like usual, before moving to pull more people from the wreckage and transporting them. And that was something you would never forgive yourself for. You let Kirishima run into that burning building.
Once you had gotten the last people out, there was a loud crunch, followed by a boom. You and Sero turn around, only to see the roof of the warehouse begin to collapse. Figures flee from the fire, and one is heading towards you at an alarmingly fast rate. The second they reach your position, you do a headcount, tracing peoples faces until you realise there are only four of them. There should be five. Whipping your head back and forth, you quickly spin around, scanning everyone here for that head of red hair...but he’s not there. Where is Kirishima? Where the hell is your boyfriend?
You then look to the very singed and exhausted as-blonde before you. “Where is Eijiro?” Bakugou frowns at you, before looking around, his movements getting more frantic with every passing second.
“He was right there…” You hear hum mutter, only for another loud bang to come from the old warehouse. 
No, god please no...The situation finally hits you, and you jump to action, your wings propelling you forward towards the burning building. You hold out your hands and try to smother the flames with your quirk, but theres too much, and its burning through the building to quickly. 
Your only a few feet from the inferno when you’re tackled to the ground. You try desperately and wildly to shake the weight off, but soot covered hands have pinned your wings so you can’t move.
“Get off me! HE’S STILL IN THERE! I NEED TO GET HIM OUT! KIRISHIMA!”
“And die yourself in the process? There’s nothing you can do Y/n.” Bakugou’s voice is in your ear, and you scream out in frustration. The noise is so loud, coming from a place deep inside you that it hurts your vocal chords when it comes out. There's another crunch, and you watch helplessly as the roof completely collapses, finally succumbing to the flames, and the second it falls, part of you dies with it.
“EIJIRO!” You scream again, trying to shake the blonde off you.
“I’m so sorry Y/n.” 
“No, please no.” Your voice is barely there, unable to be any louder. The flames leaving nothing in their wake, devouring everything it comes into contact with. “Not him, not him.” You repeat the words over and over, as you rest your head on the ground. He’s not dead, he can’t be. I can’t- I can’t do this without him. Your heart is pounding inside your ears, unable to hear anything else, and your lungs can't seem to hold any air at all. Before you know it, black dots line your vision, and then everything is dark. Before you pass out, the last thing you remember was the flickering of blue flames. 
Those blue flames took your mentor from you, they took your wings, your freedom, they took the love of your life from you. You had nothing left. And now, those blue flames are going to pay. 
For a year and a half, you haven’t touched your flames. You haven't activated the power that prowls under your skin like a beast. You had smothered it, tried to calm it, bottled it up for months, waiting for a moment to release it. The second you lock eyes with Sero, you nod before rising up off the ground. 
“Get them to the checkpoint now.” You hiss, just as a chuckle echoes from down on the floor below. 
“Running away so easily?” 
“He’s right below us,” Jiro whispers, her ear-jacks still pressed into the concrete. She looks up at you, fear her eyes. How the hell do we get out of here alive? Luckily enough, you already have an escape route.  
“Sero, now!” You yell out, aiming your hands at the floor and releasing a breath. All that unrelenting anger, frustration, grief, fury bubbles to the surface, and the second you see Sero swinging out the window with Jiro and Shoji in tow, you unleash yourself upon the world. Your pent up emotions spread to life in the form of a white flame, immediately melting the floor beneath you, and unfortunately missing the scarred man that it now reveals. 
“We’ve been looking for you, little firebird,” Dabi smirks, even whilst standing in the middle of a world of flames. “The name’s kind of ironic isn’t it, considering how you lost your wings.” You know he’s goading you, so instead, you raise a hand, your own flames swirling around your fingers almost resemble lightning in their color.
“Ironic, considering you’re about to be burnt alive.” You hiss out before releasing your flames upon him. Dabi quickly unleashes a flash of power, only for those cursed blue flames to become overwhelmed by a wave of white melting hot fire. The smug look disappears in his eyes as he takes you in. You can feel the fire bubbling inside your veins, spilling out across your body like a shield, only not burning you. “You took everything from me,” Your throat aches from breathing in the smoke of the building. “and now, I will take your life.” You shout, letting your quirk redirect itself partially to your feet, sending you flying through the air where you fire white-hot fireball after fireball in the raven-haired man’s direction. 
He would not survive this. You would make sure of it.
Your blasts were tearing up the building around you, and the warehouse you had been spying on, yet you did not care. You would set the whole world on fire before you gave him the chance to get away. The second you boost yourself out of the building and into the open courtyard between the buildings, is when you finally notice the fact that they’re barely standing, one slight movement from completely crumbling around you. Focusing back on Dabi, he looks at the buildings before relaxing his stance and glaring back at you.
“Don’t fool yourself, you can’t kill me. You’re nothing but a pathetic waste of a quirk.” He spits back, releasing a volley of blue flames towards you. Placing both your hands above your head, palms facing the sky, you swiftly release a blaze of power as you bring down your hands towards the floor, effectively slicing the incoming blue flames in half like a hot knife slicing through butter. You weren’t going to talk anymore, instead, you would fight him until he felt as much pain as you once had. Until Dabi knew how you had felt every day for the past two years since he had taken everything from you. Since he had ripped the love of your life from your grasp and permanently forced your feet to the ground. 
Pieces of debris began to fall to the floor around you from collapsing buildings. Raising your arms either side of your body, you grin a feral smile at Dabi and aim at the two buildings, knowing fully well that when they collapse, they will bury you both. Quickly catching on to your idea, the man in front of you hesitates, only for a second, as if shocked by your actions. 
“I’ll see you in hell, Dabi.” You release your flames and watch as the world crumbles around you. 
                                           ҉  ҉  ҉  ҉
At first, there is nothing but silence, your body weightless and mind empty of all thought. Is this death? Everything is dark until there’s a shout that echoes so loudly in your brain it hurts, and you feel something grip you tightly but you can’t tell where... and then… Nothing…
When you come to again your eyes blink open instinctively, and you find yourself staring at a concrete ceiling that you’ve seen many times before. The infirmary? 
You blink a few times, vanishing the blur from your eyes. You can hear the scraping of furniture coming from outside the room, but surprisingly, as you glance around, you’re the only one in here. 
Trying to sit up, suddenly your ribs screech in protest, forcing a hissing breath from your lungs. Jesus christ! You pause once you force your aching body upright, and glance around the room again, giving yourself a chance to let the pain settle before moving again. An IV machine stands empty next to your bed, and a bandage wrapped around… well your everything. The white compression cloth fits your ribs like a second skin as well as your arm. You don’t even remember getting injured… All you remember was unleashing hell on Dabi and bringing down a building around you. You were ready to sacrifice yourself to take out one of the main league members like any of your friends would have done.
The only questions that matter right now though are did you succeed? And how weren’t you dead? You can’t seem to come to an answer for either though. 
A loud muffled noise comes from outside, interrupting your thoughts. Curiosity gets the better of you, as you manage to pull yourself off the bed, ignoring your aching body’s outcry. The second your bare feet meet the cold concrete flooring, you can’t hold in the wince as the temperature makes your bones groan. You push on, slipping through the closed doorway, and glancing around, trying to track the source of the noise. You can’t make out the conversations, not until you’re passing through the halls, hunched over and holding your ribs that ache with every slight movement. It’s only once you’ve been walking around for too long do you deduce that the sounds are coming from the main common room of the warehouse. As you head in that direction, you pass a mirror and actually cringe at the image that stares back. 
Yikes.
Any dust and grime that had covered you from the rubble you had most likely been pulled from had been cleared, but you still look as if you have been dragged backward through hell. Small scratches pepper your face, and a massive black eye is forming on the right side of your face. If you thought you could move your arms high enough without wanting to cry, you might have prodded it to make sure it was real. Thank god for small mercies, you suppose.
As you draw closer to the large open doorway of the common room, you see a few people gathered around the entrance, with smiles on their faces. The look confuses you enough to force your feet to scuff along the floor as you stop. The second the noise meets their ears, their heads snap in your direction, and those smiles become grins that are slightly terrifying. How long has it been since you’ve seen faces like that?
“Y/n, you’re awake! I should get someone from the medical team, stay there a second.” An older woman says before quickly jogging back down the hall from which you came. More sound spills out of the room and this time, you can finally catch parts of the conversation.
“I’m going to kill you myself.” Bakugou growls, which doesn’t surprise you. But the fact that his words don’t meet his tone is what surprises you enough to force your legs to move, and to step into the room. Right away, your eyes are drawn towards the cluster of people in the middle of the room. First, you see Sero and Jiro, both looking a bit dishevelled, but mostly okay which has you sighing in relief. The next is the fact that everyone was here… but why? Between the heads of your other friends and comrades, you catch a glimpse of the fiery blonde that has pure murder in his eyes. However, he doesn’t act upon and instead reaches forward and brings someone into a tight embrace.
Oxygen abandons your lungs and for a second, you’re positive that you are hallucinating. Your body is no longer responsive and your mind is an empty void as you try to take in the person before you. He’s still across the room, but you’re asphyxiating under his very presence. His red hair is now black, most likely due to the fact hair dye wasn’t on the list of top priorities of anyone these days, and has also grown out enough to be pulled off his face. It’s so different… but those crimson eyes, ones that gleam like light peaking through rubies is the same… You are dreaming, or dead… you have to be… You had watched your boyfriend die, you had watched Eijiro Kirishima run into a burning building. You had seen the structure fold like paper cards, and you had searched the rubble for days after. You had grieved for two years for the man you had loved since you had first met him in the U.A entrance exams.
There is no logical reason as to how he is now grinning at Bakugou, slapping him on the back with tears filling his eyes. It’s not possible.
It’s not, you searched for so long…
The second he pulls the blonde back into another embrace which earns a string of curses and some laughs, his eyes finally meet yours over Bakugou’s shoulder, and you find yourself transporting back to the day you had lost him.
“Don’t worry angel, I’ll be back”. He never came back,
“Get everyone out”  You had.
“I’ll meet you at the safe-point soon.” He never did.
You’re gasping for air as your heartbeat thunders inside your head. It blocks out all other noise, and black dots dance within your vision. All of a sudden people are looking at you, and you can see Izuku’s lips moving in your direction, his eyes full of panic as he takes you in but you can’t hear him. You can’t seem to look from the ghost in front of you. No… he’s dead… Kirishima was dead. You have grieved him, you have cried over him, you have mourned the love of your life and still were…
Stepping out of Bakugou’s embrace, the man slowly walks towards you with caution, as if not to spook you. Well, that’s too late because I’m not seeing ghosts so I’m definitely off my rocker. With every step he takes towards you, you find the rise and fall of your chest gaining more and more speed, trying to take in more air, but failing to do so. Within seconds, he’s feet away from you, and you can’t take it. You had wanted this, so much… but it was impossible. Shaking your head, you hold your hands up in front of you to stop him from moving closer. Tears are flooding down your cheeks uncontrollably, and when he takes another step, you physically flinch back, a broken noise emerging from your lips that causes him to freeze. No, you’re dreaming! Wake up y/n! Maybe you’re in hell, and you are going to be forced to relive this again and again, only to lose him. If that’s true… Your eyes roam over Kirishima, looking almost the same as the day you lost him, and you know then your heart can’t take much more. You can’t take it.
“I- I can’t - I can’t…” You know you’re not making sense, and you’re not even sure if your words are actually understandable. But the pain and anguish in his red eyes is so similar to your own, it makes looking at him hurt even more. Kirishima finally walks forwards once more, until he is close enough to hold you, but he doesn’t. Instead, he stares down at you with so much affection and fondness in his eyes, and so much heartache you feel an echo of it inside your own chest.
“Sorry it took me so long to come back angel, I got a little lost.” oh my god. He says, trying to break the sombre mood with a joke, but you just fall to your knees, weeping and sobbing so hard you can’t breathe. In a split second he’s there holding you, crushing you to his chest so tightly, all you can hear is his heart and all you can smell is his scent. Oh my god, he’s here. He’s actually alive. The thought makes you cry even harder. Oh my god, he is alive.
Eijiro’s alive. Your brain begins to piece it all together. When you had brought the building down… someone grabbing you, a shout. It was him.
You pull back, your trembling hands cupping his wet cheeks as you search his face for any signs that it isn’t him, that it's nothing but a cruel dream. But the pure love swirling in his crimson red eyes and the tears running tracks down his cheeks are enough of an answer. “How I- you didn’t come back. Why? I needed you! And I thought you had died!  I thought he had killed you like Hawks… I needed you Eiji, and god I missed you, so so much!” You manage to get out between the sobbing. Your mouth is moving on its own at this point, and you can’t keep up with what it’s saying. You have so much to say, so much to tell him and feel as if you don’t say it now, you’ll suffocate under its weight.
“It’s a long story sweetheart, but I’m here. I’m never leaving your side ever again.” You clutch his shirt beneath your palms, your weeping quieting slightly, and you rest your forehead to his chest, just relishing in the heartbeat you feel beneath your hands. He’s alive. Eijiro’s alive. Your brain repeats it on a loop as if trying to forever engrave the fact into your brain so it will finally sink in that this is reality. You will no longer have to experience a day without his smile, a night without his warmth, a second without his heart.
“I love you. I love you so much, and I missed you so much Eiji I can’t-.” You whisper breaks again as you squeeze your eyes closed, trying to stop another wave of sobs from breaking through. A warm hand gently lifts your chin, and you find yourself staring back up at your first and only love. He’s alive.
“I missed you too,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before rubbing his nose against yours, his eyes not wavering from your own, as if he blinks, you’ll be gone. “I love you so much y/n, I will always come back to you. Always.”
You couldn’t care that you were in a room full of people, you couldn’t even care if villains showed up out of nowhere. Kirishima was back, he was whole and he was home.
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scandeniall · 5 years ago
Text
leaving the fold
pairing: atsumu x reader
summary/warnings: Youre leaving the Jackals. That means your life, position, and soulmate./ mentions of death, (bsd verse so implied mafia), profanity
wc: 2.1K
notes: this is a bungo stray dogs type universe and yall are the port mafia in this case because i miss them :-). also this is more dialogue heavy than i usually do ???
“What the fuck am I hearing about ya leaving,” You mentally roll your eyes at the now likely dented wall behind your door that had been pushed open. You don't even look up from your laptop’s screen as you greet in amusement.
“Well hello to you Atsumu. You're back from your mission already? How’d it go, I’m sure it was like child’s play to you” The fist coming down on your desk does little to shock you, nor are you surprised when the top of your laptop comes crashing down.
“Cut the shit. You're trying to leave the agency-”
“Will you keep your voice down,” you hiss out standing from your desk to shut your office’s door. You ignore his comments about not giving a damn about his volume, despite him lowering it anyways. Turning back to face him, you eye him menacingly. “How did you find out.”
“So it's true huh.” His eyes glare at you just as deadly. “What were ya gonna do, just disappear one night. Ya know more than anyone here that leaving is a death sentence” His voice grows angriet the longer he speaks. “Besides, where ya gonna go. There's nowhere in this city that the Jackals don’t have eyes. We run the underground.” By the time he had finished the two of you stood face to face. “You’re an executive for fuck’s sake (Y/N) you can’t- ”
“Shugo was set up.” Silence settled among the two of you. Both of you thought about your fallen friend. You noticed Atsumu’s eyes undergo a range of emotions: confusion, comprehension. Shock, disbelief, and back to anger as he silently accused you of lying. “Foster purposely sent him on that mission, knowing he’d die.” You stand tall as the words leave your mouth, managing to calm your raging emotions. The only indication of any sort of emotional weakness came from the balled fists resting at your sides. “Why the hell would-”
“Shugo was planning on leaving the org. I don’t know how, but Foster caught word, and-” the words trailed off as you walked past Atsumu to sit on the corner of your desk. “He had a pregnant girlfriend. Said he couldn’t keep putting her or their unborn child at risk with this life. He proposed about a year ago.” You begin to fiddle with your fingers, ignoring the shock written all over the blonde’s face. “They’d been dating maybe two or three, I’m not sure. When they got engaged he told me he was gonna leave. That's why he started taking lower paid and ranked missions. Then, she got pregnant and that was the last straw for him.” The crack in your voice ultimately caused your friend to react.
“If he had him killed, why are you trying to do the same thing.” This time the words came out in hardly a whisper as you felt his body settle next to yours on the desk. The feel of one of his hands encasing yours brings you back to the reality you’d talked yourself into. “I can take care of myself and you know that. Youngest to become a Jackal’s executive ever, remember,” you lightly bump his shoulder as you tease. “Not to mention, I’m the best at hand-to-hand combat here.” At that Atsumu scoffs, “Yeah, because your ability is better for being on the defensive.”
“I can still kick your ass,” you shrug as the conversation dies down.
“You think, Foster is letting you out without raising hell.” For a second his hand tightens on top of yours so quickly that you barely notice. “Him bringing you into this world was like hitting a goldmine.”
“Which is why he wouldn’t kill me right away-”
“You don’t know that,” his voice begins to grow again. “Listen. I know why ya wanna leave, but it's a shitty idea. Ya don’t have anywhere to go, can’t get a normal job or anything. Ya know I loved Shugo too, but people here die all the time” You snatch your hands away at his words, pushing at his arm as it reaches out for you again.
“You can’t be fucking serious right now,” you laugh out humorlessly. Your mind flashes back to the dozens of conversations the two of you had over the years as you practically grew up together. “We didn't choose this world, it chose us.” The phrase he’d always tell you along with the kid who used to say it long forgotten. 
“Well one of us needs to be realistic. It's part of the life we all chose including him.” You shake your head at disbelief following his words.
“Get the fuck out Atsumu,” is the only thing you settle on. Your voice is low and dangerous, but he doesn’t move. “Now,” this time you were the one raising your voice. The thing you’d told him not to do as he walked in.
“We’re on the same level (Y/N). I’m not one of your damn subordinates,” the fellow executive bites back. He easily avoids the book you opt for throwing at him.
“Difference is, we’re in my office.” This time he narrowly misses the punch you’d thrown his way.
However in the attempt, he neglects the fact you managed to get behind him, until you had his arms pinned against his back. “I said get the fuck out.” You scoff as you let him go, now pointing at your door. The air is heavy, as the two of you seethe in anger. Atsumu shakes his head in disbelief as he nears the exit.
“Tell me one thing,” you raise your eyebrows signaling him to continue. “Where do ya plan on going.” The question was void of any real concern. In an attempt to further upset you it was asked in malice. Mocking you. Telling you that outside of the Jackals you had no one nor anywhere to go. And it pissed you off.
“Maybe the Adlers,” the words came out solely to spite him. The mention of your counterpart organization angered him to where his own ability activated. So you stood. Stood in anger as the books on your bookshelf flew to the ground and papers fluttered to the ground. “When you realize the way Foster is leading this organization will be our demise don’t come crying to me,” you yell over the sound of your office being trashed. 
“Fuck you”
“Fuck you,” the door slammed shut behind you and you were left with an aching heart and trashed office.
The argument with Atsumu had been over a month ago. And since then, the two of you didn’t interact unless otherwise necessary. Your missions together were strictly business, both of your subordinates easily catching onto the tension. Your comments at one another just too harsh to be considered the usual joking. Whenever you had to work together, you’d opt for not riding together to sights. 
The only time things seemed relatively normal were during executive meetings. You would take your rightful place as Foster’s right hand, engaging and giving updates and directives. You interacted with Atsumu as usual, even throwing in careful jokes and he’d reciprocated. He knew you still had every intention of leaving. You were stubborn. When you set your mind to something you followed through. It was one of the things he loved about you. Despite his hurt at that he didn’t want you to end up dead all because he couldn’t act in a mere meeting. 
You’d finished the last letter, the one actually designated for Atsumu. It was nearing 3am and you had to be gone soon. You looked over your now former office for the last time and sighed. Eying the letters in your hands your mind thought back to the people you were leaving behind. The closest thing you could call friends in this hellhole. Directly under you in ranks were the two you entrusted as the commanders of your infiltration unit; Bokuto and Sakusa. You’d miss the way Bokuto would laugh after a completed mission somehow making the carnage left behind seem a little less gut wrenching. You’d even miss the quips at your hygiene when you got unnecessarily messy during a fight. 
Then you had the guys under Atsumu’s command. His trusted commanders; Osamu and Suna, and the newest member of the organization. Hinata, a firecracker who was quickly rising in ranks.
The last letter belonged to your fellow executive. The one you shared nearly a decade’s worth of memories with. Your right hand on missions, the two of you clicking immediately and being able to act scarily in sync. the one who you’d have hundreds of sparring matches with and he’d pout whenever you let him win. The person who’d you stay getting into trouble about the base as kids, annoying everyone in your sight with pranks. The one you swore was your soulmate, despite the fact that the two of you could never be. Not with the lives you lived at least.
The buzz of the new burner phone you’d gotten shook you out of the thoughts. The text about who you were set to meet reminded of you of the time. Adjusting the straps of your backpack, you shut the light out of your office for the last time. You’d manage to drop the letters off, slipping them in the lockers of their respective occupants before sneaking off. You’d made it outside, before a voice sounded behind you. “Ya didn’t think I’d let you go by yourself now.”
Turning around you were met with Atsumu, who looked unusually happy given the situation. “Atsumu, I’m leaving and you can’t stop-” hands reached around your waist pulling you into him and effectively cutting you off.
“Of course not. Listen. You’re leaving but you're not going alone alright.” The way his index finger pressing against your lips causes your breath to catch. “It can’t be me. Not yet anyway. Listen, you were right about Foster. He’s trying to lead us into an all about war with ability users.”
That revelation causes your eyes to widen. You almost forget about the fact that Atsumu’s body was pressed against yours and that your lips were so close to one another. He only nods at your shock, looking around cautiously before continuing. “Bokuto and Sakusa are going with you. You need someone with some offensive ability, and you need Sakusa to keep you on track.”
“Are you serious,” you whisper. Your friends were coming with you? He only nods offering a smile that disappears just as quickly as it occurs.
“I assume you already had a plan for yourself. Got room for two more?” You quickly confirm, making a mental note to text your awaiting party. You also confirm after he asks you about a burner phone. “Alright good. Sakusa has my burner and some information about where we can meet up later.”
Your hands go towards his chest gently pushing him away. “I have so many questions right now-”
“Babe, you have to go. Morning guards will be here soon. We’re going to bring Foster down. For now Me, Samu, Suna and Hinata are staying here. Acting as normal. But we’re your inside eyes ok and when the time is right we’re here with you.” Your mind hardly registers the new nickname. He was with you. He believed in you and thought you were doing the right thing. The only thing you could do was wrap your arms around him in a hug. You only nod as he whispers for you to please be safe. 
“Fuck! Tsumu, I wrote you all-”
“Already got Samu on it. I knew you couldn’t just leave. By now he should have already picked the locks to your guy’s lockers. Now you have to go. Bo and Omi are waiting about 2 blocks down at the end of the street.” You find yourself nodding once again, this time caught off guard when his lips come down to meet yours in a quick kiss. You’re the one to pull away, this not being the time nor place. “Get the info from Omi- and we’ll figure out a meeting for next month.”
His words cause you to step away from him, taking a deep breath. “Be safe Y/N”
“Aren’t I always,” you shoot him a smirk before nodding. He watches as you depart, lost in how he was now going to have to act in order to uphold his promise to you. “You couldn't even say I love you? How lame,” the voice causes Atsumu to jump as he scowls
“Shut up Suna! You’ve been spending too much time with Samu”
a/n: not me making meian oda and coach foster mori LMFAO. Yall also peep how i made bokuto and sakusa both hirotsu. Ok so yeah idk if im making a part 2 so in the case that i dont (bc this plot wasn;t even supposed to get a happy ending)
atsumu’s ability is basically gravity control so basically chuya (yeah he manipulated it to trash ur office), you ability is smoke manipulation aka you can form it, its poisoneous but not deadly and can only really stun momentarily or be used as a way to impair vision. Atsumu got them dazai brains, and you got them chuya hands. But yeah you were the youngest exec like dazai due to a back story that u wont know unless i decide to make another part, and yall basically double black
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gemraldkid · 5 years ago
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Analysis and speculation on Bête Noire
Spoilers for Undertale and Glitchtale. Undertale by Toby Fox and Glitchtale by @camilaart​
You thought I was joking? Nope. Here it is: a mix of canon, headcanon, and speculation.
Of all the characters that people are obsessing over right now (Ronan, Jessica, Gaster, Rave, the prequel wizards), I choose to put all of my energy into making some sense of the one character that continuously reminds us that we should hate them. I could be thinking about the struggles of anyone else. I could be worried for Chara or Asriel or Asgore (he’s not dead until he starts turning to dust), but nooooo. This is what occupies my thoughts about this series.
This is basically most of my headcanon relating to Betty. I wanted to put these thoughts out there before the new episode since... well, anything could happen. 
Betty’s probably gonna mostly die from hate and stuff.
Imagine if we were actually supposed to end up feeling bad for this character? Right...
You shouldn’t take everything I say here as facts.’m pretty sure I made it clear enough which parts are speculation with the amazing power of verb tenses.
I’m open to corrections about currently available facts that I got wrong.
Glitchtale is a series that I’ve greatly enjoyed watching. I believe that it is one of the finest things to come out of the Undertale fandom. It is a testament to how good a fanfiction can be.
One thing that I find particularly praiseworthy is the way OCs are handled. They manage expand on the world without hogging the spotlight for too long. There’s a good balance between introducing new elements without ever forgetting about the old ones.
Of course, among many of the new characters, one in particular stands out: the current antagonist of Season 2, Bête Noire or “Betty”.
Betty is the character I have been the most fascinated with so far. She’s been a mystery to many ever since the punch to the gut that was the ending of “Dust”.
What follows is a look into the way that I perceive Bête Noire. I am not necessarily dead-set on a single possibility. While my views are backed up by certain facts, I acknowledge that they are also based on and influenced by my personal wishes for this character. Therefore, my words should be taken with a healthy amount of salt.
Betty was first introduced to us as an innocent 13 year-old girl, barely a year older than Frisk, physically. She was a shy, happy-go-lucky kid who became friends with Frisk after the latter saved her life from a fast-moving car.
Unfortunately, things were not as they seemed. The girl never was in any real danger as the car was an illusion created by powers. The scenario was merely a set-up to get her closer to Frisk and their family of monsters.
Illusions are likely a power granted to her by her trait: fear. With it, she is able to see the memories of others simply by looking them in the eyes. This grants her knowledge of their personality and, most importantly, their emotional weaknesses. Using that knowledge, she can create illusions to throw off her enemies. These illusions can serve a variety purposes even if they don’t directly involve fear. Examples include the aforementioned car and the illusion that caused Undyne to kill Alphys.
Bête Noire originally woke up when the barrier was broken, a month before the events of “My Sunshine”. This means that she spent a month doing “something” before starting her plan. She likely spent days and nights observing the humans and monsters. Through her observations and memory-reading abilities, she judged whether the monsters were truly as dangerous for human kind as she believed. This wasn’t all she observed, however. Betty also learned the ways and customs of this new time period. After all, the only memories in her possession belonged to someone who lived over 800 years ago...
-
Agate Lightvale was best known as the wizard of bravery who helped seal the monsters underground. She lived in a medieval time. While she was born into a common family , she didn’t live a common life. Her twin brother, Copper, was lucky enough to be born with a soul of determination, a trait so rare that only one person can possess it at a time. It elevated the Lightvale family to a noble status.
Growing up, Agate acted like a big sister to Copper even though they were the same age. However, this changed  as they grew older and trained to become wizards. Copper became more independent while his sister started to develop a few insecurities. 
Agate spent most of her time training in combat. She was always looking to improve, to get stronger, to surpass her limits. Unfortunately for her, being the twin of the soul of determination meant she was often overshadowed. 
Her brother was essentially a “chosen one” of sorts. As a result, he got most of the attention. Agate would execute a spell flawlessly while Copper stumbled at the same task. Yet, he would be the only one to receive praise.
In addition to being the rarest trait, determination is also the strongest. Agate was confronted with the reality that, no matter how hard she trained, she could never surpass her brother.
Still, it didn’t stop Agate from being a kind and respected individual. True to her trait, she was know for her bravery in the face of danger and resistance to physical pain. In addition, she and Copper both stayed strong for their younger sister, Amber, who’s birth resulted in the death of their mother. Agate and her siblings were extremely close.
After the war between humans and monsters ended, she, her brother, and five other wizards created the barrier, trapping the monsters underground.
After a certain amount of time, Copper proposed the idea of releasing the monsters from captivity. He believed that humans and monsters could still live together. Agate opted against this. She believed it would be better for both races if they lived separately. The discussion got extremely agitated to the point where Agate spontaneously challenged Copper to a duel that would decide the future.
-
If I may break the flow of information a little, this part seems a tad off to me. I find it notable, at the very least. In the official depiction of this moment, Agate looks smug, as if she knows she is going to win. Isn’t that odd considering what we know? I believe there was more riding on this duel than the fate of two races.
Recall that Agate had a bit of an inferiority complex with her brother. Isn’t it possible that she also challenged him to prove she was stronger, to finally break out of his shadow by defeating him in front of the entire kingdom? If this is the case, I believe that the “confidence” she showed might not have been entirely sincere. Surely, a part of her knew that she couldn’t win. Yet, she still instigated a fight.
I think it’s possible that challenging Copper was not an act of hubris on Agate’s part; it was an act of desperation made in the heat of the moment.
-
Ultimately,  she lost. Her brother was victorious. Agate was overwhelmed by her loss. While she had an abundance of physical bravery, she lacked it emotionally. Due to these factors, she lost her trait then and there. Completely humiliated, she fled to parts unknown. Still under the intensity of the battle, Copper didn’t think to go after her.
During this period of her life, Agate made many poor life choices. She searched for a way to break her limits more than ever before. She came across at least two forbidden spells. She used one of them to reverse her souls trait from the orange of bravery to the dark orange of fear. The process completely eradicated the last shred of sanity she had. After being absent for an unknown amount of time, Agate rejoined her family, who welcomed her back in spite of the changes she had gone through. 
Driven by her obsession for victory, Agate furiously demanded a rematch from Copper. He refused, knowing it wouldn’t bring about anything good. Seeing that he wouldn’t move on the issue, Agate threatened the life of Amber, her own sister. Copper attempted to protect her, but was ultimately forced to watch as Agate stabbed her through the chest. This horrible sight caused him to lose his trait, allowing Agate to easily finish him in the same manner. She relished the victory as all life left his eyes.
Unfortunately, she would soon be forced to join her siblings. Inverting one’s trait is immensely stressful on the soul. With her time running out, Agate performed another forbidden spell to ensure that her will lived on: the Bête Noire spell.
The Bête Noire spell consists of creating a powerful, nearly lifelike golem called a “bête noire”. While the golem itself is powerful, a bête noire’s true strength lies in its longevity and ability to form complex thoughts. 
Most spells typically act in very basic ways. For example, a simple fire spell will simply follow a chosen path or pattern before disappearing regardless of whether it hit its target or not.
Bêtes noires, on the other hand, can not only accomplish much more complicated tasks, but also think about how they will go about doing so. They are even be able to improvise if things don’t go their way. In addition, they can exist for several weeks before fading. However, if they have a way to replenish their magic (such as harvesting it from souls), they become virtually immortal. A bête noire is essentially a living spell. 
Of course, to craft such a being, the cost is extremely high. It requires the caster to use their own soul for the conjuring. Then, they must also have a vessel other than their own body that can be merged with the soul to create the golem.
Agate was willing to sacrifice the life she wouldn’t have for much longer and she had two perfectly good vessels. Still spiteful towards her brother, the wizard chose Amber’s body over Copper’s. Her soul turned pink as it absorbed Amber’s body. With the deed done, Agate lifeless body fell to the floor.
The soul remained sealed and hidden for over 800 years until the barrier was broken. At that moment, it awoke, transformed into the being that would be know as Bête Noire.
-
Bête Noire knew her purpose from the very start as she possessed some of Agate’s memories as she possessed some of Agate’s memories. Unfortunately, the goal her “mother” left her with was no longer as good-natured as it once was. In Agate’s twisted mental state, it had gone from “Keep humans and monsters separate for both their safeties.” to something akin to “Kill all monsters so that they will never live in peace with humans. Do so by any means necessary, even if it means killing humans who oppose you or using the power of hate.”
-
Gathering hate is stated to be the universal purpose of a bête noire. It’s fitting when considering the name. “Bête noire” is a french term that literally translates to “black beast”. Black is the color (or lack there of) of hate. In addition, the term “bête noire” is used to indicate a person or object that someone particularly dislikes.
I originally found it ironic that Bête struggled to keep her hate under control, but the solution is simple. She likely only struggled to keep it under control because she wasn’t in her complete form at the time.
Nonetheless, I can’t help thinking that maybe bêtes noires are supposed to succumb to the hate they collect. Perhaps they are meant to serve as vessels for the stuff. After all, Betty still requires a large surplus of magic to keep it at bay. One would think a creature made to collect hate would do more than just resist it a little better than others. 
Yet, if bêtes noires are supposed to succumb to hate, why has this one been shown fear it? Perhaps because, as a creature made purely of magic, it would be akin to death, something that she fears because fear is built into her nature.
-
In order to accomplish her mission, Bête had to gather information on both her enemies and the era she was in. She separated herself into two beings in order to hide her monstrous appearance and blend in with the humans. She dubbed the part she separated from herself “Akumu”, the Japanese word for “Nightmare”. Under the nickname “Betty”, she spent a month observing and planning. 
It should be noted that she must have done so 24/7. Bêtes noires don’t need to sleep. It could also be for this reason that she is so unfamiliar with the concept. Agate’s knowledge about sleep was mostly omitted because it had little relevance to the mission.
As previously stated, Betty used her power of fear to look into the memories of the monsters. From the information she gathered, she judged that monsters were in fact deserving of death. This may seem strange to many since, as seen in Undertale, most monsters are innocent and kind-hearted people. How could she possibly think so poorly of them even after seeing their past? Is she blind?
I believe so. Betty may, in fact, be blind to certain degree.
Any normal person would most likely have seen that monsters didn’t deserve what was coming to them. Why didn’t Betty? Because she isn’t a normal person. Highly advanced or not, Bête Noire remains a spell, and spells exist to carry out the will of their caster. They are tools.
If magic bullets could miss because they took pity on the opponent, few people  would use them.
Keep in mind that Betty isn’t just a bullet that uses up 0.001% of the caster’s magic. She’s a bête noire. People had to die for her creation. If a person poured all of their life force into a spell that would carry on their will, they would be pretty upset to learn that they failed because the spell didn’t want to do the one thing it was created for. 
All this to say that I believe that Betty is unable to go rogue either physically or mentally. She has no choice but to believe she is in the right. After all, if she realized that her only purpose for existing was objectively wrong, it could make her a less effective weapon.
When she looked into the souls of the monsters, it is likely that she was never going to come to any other conclusion than “They are dangerous.” 
She did see some of the good in them, but most of what she retained were parts that would prove her right. These included Asgore killing the 6 humans (even though it was the only way to save his kingdom), the horrors Asriel committed as Flowey (even though he was soulless at the time), and Frisk’s many resets (even though they aren’t even a monster). These actions were obviously horrible, but there were nuances that made them more understandable. Context was important.
Betty, who I believe was unable to pick up on such nuances, may have simply taken the most basic message from this. “These monsters did bad things, therefore they are evil and the same must apply to all of monsterkind.” She is blind to anything that doesn’t fit into the way she is supposed to see the world.
(Of course, this doesn’t mean she is unaware of Papyrus or Undyne’s heroic and selfless acts. It just means that can’t see them as proof that monsters are good people.)
As such, Bête may not be wholly responsible for her actions. Some of her malicious acts can be blamed on her creator. After all, her contradictory objective of killing humans to protect humanity was given to her by Agate, who’s mind was far from clear at the time.
However, other aspects are harder to justify. The pleasure she seems to take in her victims’ emotional suffering could have come from Agate as the wizard displayed something similar shortly before casting the spell.
The fact that Bête wouldn’t care if the world ended as long as it was by her hand definitely makes her seem incredibly hypocritical (which she is) and entitled, not to mention evil. I suppose that by annihilating everything she would technically accomplish her goal of killing all monsters. With her one purpose in life fulfilled, she would have no more reason to live. The idea of ruling humanity afterward is likely more of a bonus. Assuming this is the case, it’s a testament to how much important the mission is to her.
Finally, I would like to bring up the debate of whether Betty and Agate are the same person or not because, if they are, most of what has been written here will be completely pointless. There are two ways to look at this.
This post tells us that Agate is technically Betty, but it may only refer to them in the physical sense. Betty’s body is physically Agate’s soul. The debate is about whether they are mentally the same.
This comic is likely the largest piece of evidence to support this. To my knowledge, it is still canon. In it, Bête finds the remains of Agate’s body. Her reaction is quite interesting because she acts and talks as if the body was once hers. She also has to reassure herself that she “can’t die now”, implying that she was once mortal. She also mentions ensuring “our race’s survival” in reference to humanity. For that sentence, she includes herself with the human race. This implies that she was at least human at one point.
This evidence certainly appears conclusive, and it very well might be. However, it directly contradicts this conversation which, to my knowledge, is also still canon. Here, she refers to Agate as “mom”, indicating that she thinks her as a separate being. Why is this? Is one of these sources outdated? Possibly, but I have another proposal.
Betty’s mind appears to be all over the place. One moment, she laments the fact that she is meant to be hated and, at another, she takes joy in torturing her victims. She doesn’t want to die, yet she wouldn’t mind if the world ended at her own hand. She is hypocrite.  Sometimes, she believes she is Agate’s creation; at other times, she acts like she is Agate herself.
Bête Noire’s first memories came from Agate. Surely, It isn’t too far-fetched to say that her mind was likely derived from her creator’s. If that is indeed the case, the solution is clear; Betty might be insane just like Agate was before casting the spell. Agate’s insanity could have rubbed off on her creation. Thus, it’s possible that Bête’s thoughts are meant to be hypocritical and contradictory.
In the end, is Betty Agate? She may not even know herself. I believe she is more of an imperfect copy or a “simulacrum”. The things that make her “Agate” are the incomplete memories of the wizard’s life and the similar way of thinking. In my opinion, these don’t make an entirely different person, but they also aren’t enough for her to be considered Agate. She is merely a being in possession of her creator’s memories.
-
Also, these hints might still be relevant today.
“Steven Universe logic”? You mean the show where almost every problem is solved by talking and all the villains end up becoming good? Sure, that could just be referencing Sans and Asriel getting talked out their states, but you never know. Maybe Betty’ll regret her actions too before dying. Eh? EH?!
“Never assume things”? No kidding. Words to watch by.
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rydenstories · 6 years ago
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We should have never played in the junkyard.
REDDIT
Trash could've been my first name growing up.
It wasn't the way I carried myself and it wasn't the way my family was. Sure, we were poor, but we weren't dirty or anything. It was just that stupid town we lived in. Rural, but rich. If your parents didn't either own a farm or work on one, you were considered one of the poor kids. The trash.
Of course, there are choices that didn't help my reputation. Call it teen rebellion I guess, but sometimes I think I tried to out-trash people's opinions once I got older.
That's how I, along with my best friend Mick, started hanging out at the junk yard.
Now it wasn't really a junk yard, not officially. The woman who owned the land was a hoarder and that's putting it generously. I mean acres upon acres of land with just.... stuff on it. Rusted down cars by the dozen, broken appliances, and other piles upon piles of junk.
Delia, a wispy haired woman with a thick southern accent, owned the land. Growing up, we heard all kinds of stories about her. Mostly that she was some kind of witch, though the adults just said she was crazy. I'd overheard my mother talking about her many times after crossing paths at the market or whatever. "Such a nice lady. It's sad she's so nuts. All that money and all that land, but she's too focused on crap!"
And she really was. Hell, most people in town stopped throwing certain stuff out because they knew she'd just come pick it up before the trash men could come. Instead, they opted to drop things off. That's actually how our fascination got sparked.
Let me point out that Mick's parents were never around. Dad was a trucker, mom worked double shifts. Me being an only child, and my mom almost always being home to care for me, Mick was essentially my brother and was always with me, from kindergarten on. That's why he was with me that day, when my dad was dropping off our old fridge. The coils that kept the freezer cold had finally crapped out for the last time.
Delia came out from a trail of trashy treasures poking out of overgrown grass. She gave my father a smile that was magnetic and I was completely enamored with her life, as was Mick. I mean, from everything I'd learned so far, I'd assumed that she'd be wild and unhappy. At least embarrassed by her situation. This woman radiated positivity. I mean, I'd seen her before in town and she LOOKED happy, but she truly had this energy that was hard to hate.
Later that same week, Mick and I hopped some fences until we got onto Delia's property. You didn't need a map to know, you could see the pile-up from a mile away. Exploring her land was something we'd talked about from the minute Dad took us back home. We were both 14 and a little too old to be playing pretend, but we couldn't stop coming up with ideas for how we could make the junk yard our battlegrounds.
We went a few times without being caught. We sneaked around and there was a definitive thrill we both derived from the fear. However, when Delia found the two of us, using garbage piles as barricades for an imaginary war, she was still bright and positive. We both quickly stopped our play and did as kids often do; lined up to be reprimanded. Instead, she put a hand on Mick's shoulder. "Ain't much to do 'round here, eh?" We both shook our heads.
"Ayup. Always been like this. If you kids are really lookin' to have some fun, you might wanna walk about five minutes that-a way." She pointed further into her land. "Cars'n stuff are a little less rusted. Don't want you kids getting some kind of infection on my watch." She smiled and turned away, starting off in a different direction. Mick spoke up. "Wait, we can play here?"
Delia turned, same smile still on her face. "Well sure! Just be careful and respectful of my things, y'understand?" We both nodded and she set off again, stopping every so often to check out a discarded item before gently placing it back down and continuing on her winding but meticulous path.
She'd been right, just heading a couple minutes into the junkyard provided with newer garbage, and other landscapes that seemed almost like something out of fantasy. Our imaginations ran wild. We hung out there almost every day. Most, we wouldn't even see Delia. I mean, there was just so much land and so much to do there. Our paths rarely crossed.
Still, we'd see other people around sometimes. We weren't the only cast-offs to find a refuge there. Sometimes, you'd find homeless people sleeping in abandoned cars and campers. People would also look for junk parts. It wasn't that abnormal to have your play be interrupted by someone wandering.
We found a huge expanse of field that was nothing but refrigerators and other appliances. Newer, older, and in various stages of rust. We'd imagine that they were trees and that we were chasing one another through the forest, a bounty hunter and an escaped convict. I was getting ready to turn the corner around an old Frigidaire and "arrest" Mick when the creaking, moaning sound of rust broke the both of us out of our imaginative story-line.
Mick stood up from his knelt position and came up next to me as I turned myself around to search for the source of the sound. My eyes searched between rusted husks until they landed one one of those old 60's models, the ones that look like a spaceship. The door had open just a crack before stopping.
I started to turn away when the groaning noise returned again. Sure enough, the door was opening.
The door creaked a little further and I could see fingers curled around, holding on and cautiously opening from inside. Fear had turned my body heavy as stone, but the sight made Mick yelp. The fingers quickly pulled back into the fridge and the door slammed closed again.
We stayed like statues in place for a while, waiting for the door to open again, but it didn't. Arming ourselves with nearby scrap metal, the both of us crept over to the fridge and pulled on the door. It didn't want to give way until the two of us pulled with both hands. It was stuck shut good and creaked much, much louder when we opened it.
The inside was bare, nothing, no person. Just rust.
Neither of us wanted to admit to how frightened we were, but we weren't exactly ready to just resume play either, so we quietly backed off of the area and ran home.
It was probably the longest time we'd spent away from Delia's land. Being away didn't stop us from constantly speculating, once we knew we were safe, of course. There were moments where we rationalized to the best of our ability, but it didn't take long for that to descend into stranger explanations when rationality clearly couldn't apply anymore. We had to go back.
It's strange. Delia's land is so expansive, that it's kind of hard to find the same place two days in a row. We found other fields of fridges and other appliances, but not that field with that refrigerator. It took two weeks and almost forgetting about it entirely for us to stumble upon it once again.
We both went straight to that same old fridge. It looked like it could have been blue in it's heyday, but years of rust and sunshine had faded it away. The door had been closed again. It wasn't nearly as hard for the two of us to get open this time and we found it unsurprisingly empty.
The two of us stood there in silence for a moment before it seemed like Mick got an idea. "Close me inside!" He climbed in before I could protest and started trying to pull the door closed on himself, which clearly wasn't working. I didn't immediately step forward to help and instead protested. "What if the door gets stuck? How am I gonna explain that to my mom?"
He laughed as he continued to try to pull the door closed, rocking the fridge and nearly knocking it over. "I can hold my breath a real real long time, you'll figure out the rest."
Sighing, I resigned myself to closing the door on him, though not all the way initially. I could hear him from inside. "All the way! All the way!" The door touched the frame and settled there. I stepped back and stood again in silence.
A few seconds passed.
"Hey? What's it like?" No answer, not even a muffled one. I rolled my eyes and stepped back towards the fridge, grabbing and yanking the door back open with surprising ease. "Yeah, you're not gonna scare me-"
Empty.
For a moment, it was like my brain just stopped functioning. I stared dumbly at the rusted back of the old fridge. Before my thoughts arranged themselves, I already felt myself stepping forward and touching the inside, pushing hard against the back. Smacking it. Punching it in a frightened panic.
I started yelling for Mick. Yelling into the empty fridge until rationality started to pull me back again. I backed off and began searching the other appliances, tearing doors open and frantically yelling for my friend. I opened every single damn door on every fridge, deep freeze unit, and oven with no luck. He wasn't behind them, or among the outlying piles of trash. He was just gone.
As if on cue, or maybe even her own instinct, Delia approached from somewhere unseen. "What's goin' on here? Y'all gotta find somewhere else to play." She stopped and looked around at all the open doors, concerned. "Hey.... where's that other kid?"
I started to break down. I could barely explain through the sudden burbles of sobs that were coming from somewhere inside my gut. My mind couldn't make sense of what was happening, but Delia didn't seem particularly shocked and just sighed before going around and closing all the doors, shaking her head as she got to her work. She kept repeating "This is bad. This is real bad for us, kid."
Once all the doors were closed again, she came back over to me. "Show me which unit he went into." I lead her over to the spacey 60's fridge. She closed and opened the door a few times with no change. She backed off and sat down on an old toaster oven. At first, I thought she was deep in worried thought, but after fifteen minutes or so, it became clear that she was waiting for something.
Then, there it was again. The creak and groan of a rusted hinge, trying desperately to open against time's toll. Only this time, it was one of those meat storage freezers that open from the top. Whatever was crouched inside had pushed the lid open just a sliver. Glossy, silver bauble-like eyes peered out from the darkness inside. They were round and wide, with no iris or pupils to the cascaded swirl of chrome color that made them up.
Just as the lid started to close again, Delia leap't to her feet and barreled towards the freezer. It noticed, tried to retreat faster, but couldn't disappear before the surprisingly spry old woman had yanked the door open entirely and peered inside. Her face was painted with both fear and fury as she shouted inside. "Don't you dare run, you coward bitch!"
A scream erupted from somewhere deep inside the freezer, high pitched and almost metallic sounding. A black, disgustingly contorted hand reached up toward Delia and gripped her hard on her arm. It yanked her a little, but she wasn't budging. Instead, she reached her other arm down with it. "You give that kid back, god damn it!"
It was clear that she was trying to pull the thing out.
Every instinct told me to run, but I couldn't move. My legs had become jelly beneath me and I'd knelt down moments before without noticing.
She'd gotten some good pull on the thing and I was starting to become overwhelming frightened that I would have to see those disgusting chrome eyeballs again, but it seemed it had also started to realize that she had the upper hand. It let go of her arm and she let it go in turn. Then, she was holding onto something heavy, pulling it up to the surface.
He'd come up headfirst, Delia pulling him under the shoulders with all of her might. Mick was unconscious and dirty, looking as if he'd been gone for days, although it hadn't been more than an hour. As the last of his legs came up, she collapsed backwards and barely dodged his body toppling onto her. My own body was finally responding to my brain again and I sprinted over to them. She was already trying to shake him awake with no response.
It was only when I knelt down and began begging him to wake up did his eyes start to flutter. Then, his entire face scrunched up in pain as blood began to pool from his tear ducts and run down his face. Pain overwhelmed his body and he screamed.
"My eyes! My fucking eyes!"
Delia quickly rose to her feet and began to leave.
"Stay with him. I'm calling 911. You better come up with a good story by the time they get here, kid."
I tried to comfort him through his wails and pain, but I was overwhelmed and terribly frightened. I could stop my eyes from darting between each and every appliance in the field, terrified of seeing those swirly, sickly baubles peeking out again.
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thereluctantinquisitor · 6 years ago
Note
"You look like you're going to tip over any second" with Darren and Cyrus
Darren & Cyrus, during Inquisition. Approx 1700 words.
In which Cyrus isn’t looking so good, and Darren is worried for a very good reason.
(TW: descriptions of a (borderline severe) asthma attack. It was as much a surprise to Cyrus as it was to everyone else). 
“You look like you’re going to tip over at any second.”
Cyrus’ chest felt tight, as though some unseen person hadhim in a grapple and refused to let go. “I’m fine,” he hissed, glancing aroundwarily at the group of soldiers accompanying them. Reynolt’s squad had beenassigned to the same mission. The last thing Cyrus needed was for any of them tosmell weakness. It was blood in the water to them. “Just… fuck off, Darren. Get off my case.”
Beside him, the blond hesitated, clearly unconvinced asCyrus almost stumbled over an exposed tree root, his reflexes too slow to avoidit, his pulse beginning to pound in his ears. “No. You’re not okay,”Darren insisted softly, leaning close, his hand coming to rest warily on Cyrus’elbow. Just in case. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wr—”
—“Cyrus. If you don’t tell me I’ll…” Darren trailed offuncertainly for a moment. But he swallowed and huffed out a breath, steelinghimself. “I’ll call the Captain over. You know I will.”
At that, Cyrus pulled to a sharp halt, turning to fix Darrenwith as forceful a glare as he could manage. It was remarkably hard, with hisvision blurring at the edges and his chest so…
“Darren. I… I swearto the fucking Maker… if you… so muchas…” He reached out, gripping the blond by the collar. Making a fist, catchinghis breath, he couldn’t seem to do either properly, his throat feeling unnaturally tight.“I-If you…”
Darren already had his arms in place to catch Cyrus when hewent down, the Orlesian’s legs buckling beneath him. He staggered and collapsedagainst Darren’s chest, words cutting off with a tight, quiet sound of confusion.
“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Darren did everything in his powerto channel the one person who had always brought him comfort: his ma. Her tone.Her warmth. Her innate sense of reassurance. He never forgot the way she hadheld little Cian as he shook and shivered through his final night. Even whenhe’d taken his last breath, his baby brother had never been afraid. It was hardto be afraid when you were safe and warm in her arms.
But, of course, Darren was not his ma.
Slowly, carefully, he sank to his knees, lowering Cyruswith him until they were together on the grassy ground. The Orlesian’s foreheadwas resting on Darren’s shoulder, his chest heaving in short, erraticmovements, the air seeming to whistle as it battled in and out of his lungs,his attempts to pull in air painful to witness. Eyes wide, barely containinghis panic, Darren raised an arm and waved to get the attention of hissquad-mates. “Hey! Stop – wait!”
“D-Don’t,” Cyrus wheezed, but he was barely audible now, asthough there was no air left to give the word shape. Darren knew Cyrus had beenunwell for the past few days, but this…
He could feel Cyrus’ attempts to breathe growing shorter andfaster as panic started to set in. Darren held him, trying to keep him calm –reminding him he wasn’t alone – but sensed that whatever this was, it wasbeyond his ability to soothe. He was useless to help.
But there was another person who could.
“Connors!”
It would have been only seconds but it felt like an eternitybefore Connors arrived, dropping to her knees beside them, her brow creased as she assessed the situation. With firm, clinical hands, she pushedDarren away from Cyrus, inspecting the Orlesian’s face, listening intently to his attempts tobreathe. He was shaking now, a light sheen of panicked sweat covering his skin. “Holdhim,” she instructed, returning Cyrus to Darren’s waiting arms as she slung herpack off her shoulders. They weren’t lucky enough to travel with a mage.Connors and her tonics was the best they could hope for.
With Cyrus gasping and wheezing in his arms, Darren couldonly pray to the Maker that she knew what to do.
“Keep him still,” she instructed, glass tinkling in her bagas she searched, her gaze flicking calmly over to Cyrus at intervals to assess his state, “andcalm, if possible.”
“Calm?” Darren squeaked. “H-How can I--?”
“Do your best.”
In truth, Darren felt like he was the one starting to panic. But he swallowed and held his friend, forcing the sudden urge to cry aside. Now was not the time for that. It wouldn’t help anyone. “I-It’s okay. You’re okay. Just… tryto take a deep breath for me. Like this...” He drew a long, slow breath in. “Can you try? Please?”
Cyrus’ body convulsed slightly – something like an abortedcough. 
Then everything just seemed to fall even further apart.
“S-Slow down, okay? Cyrus, you’ve gotta slow down.” Darren knew itwasn’t Cyrus’ fault. He was just babbling now, as frantic and scared as he’dever been when one of his friends got hurt. But this wasn’t like other times. This wasn’t some injury he couldput pressure on until someone smarter arrived to fix it. Maker, he wantednothing more than for someone to just make it stop – make it go away. But as therest of the squad drew near, Connors barked a sharp order for everyone to standback. To give them space.
That just left Darren.
Connors was doing something at the corner of his vision;mixing two vials together, if Darren had to guess. It was hard to pay attention.All he could think to do was rub his hand up and down Cyrus’ upper back, thegesture feeling impotent and pathetic in the face of his friend’s struggle to breathe. How it had all gone so downhill, Darren couldn’t begin tosay. He swore it had just been a bit of a cold the day before. It just… didn’t make sense.
“Lean him back. His face needs to be clear.”
Connors actually startled Darren, his attention had been so absorbed by the man in his arms. After letting out a small yelp, he nodded frantically, shifting his hands to brace Cyrus by theshoulders and reluctantly pushing him away. The man was pale and rigid, asthough every part of his body was focusing solely on the act of breathing in what little air it could. Connors moved closer, giving him another quick assessment, thenviolently shook the vial in her hand.
“Cyrus. Listen. When I tell you, you are going to try to breathein what is in this vial. As much as you can. Exhale through your nose.Understand?”
Weakly, shakily, Cyrus nodded. The fact that he was still presentenough to respond had to be a good sign, and it set part of Darren at ease.Well, a small part. 
Majority of him still remained sick with worry.
Connors stopped shaking the vial, inspecting it brieflybefore leaning forward until it was centimetres from Cyrus’ face. “On three,”she said calmly. Another nod from Cyrus. “One. Two. Three.”
She unstoppered the vial and brought it quickly to Cyrus’lips. Struggling, he tried to do as instructed, breathing in the vapour thathad formed in the vial as the two liquids mixed. The first few ragged attempts looked so painfully hard that Darren had to glance away to stop himself from panicking. Connors, on the other hand, watched Cyrus intently, her gaze never waveringas her squad-mate choked and shuddered. Then inhaled halfway. Exhaled stiffly. Inhaled again. Exhaled.
Inhaled.
Exhaled.
Suddenly, Cyrus spasmed and pulled away from the vial to cough; a hacking, wetsound. Connors slipped her thumb over the opening until he was done, thencalmly instructed him to keep going until there was nothing left, the liquids inside continuing to produce vapour as they mingled.
Astonished, relieved,Darren just knelt there in front of them, watching in utter awe as colour beganto return to Cyrus’ cheeks and lips, his shoulders and neck relaxing as hepulled the substance into his chest. Eventually, Connors was able to release the vialinto Cyrus’ care, the Orlesian no longer trembling to the point of incapacitation.It was only then, with her patient stable, that Darren caught her release a soft,slow sigh of relief.
For Connors, that was the equivalent of fainting.
“How did you know that would work?” Darren asked,shuffling back slightly as Hanin moved in to fuss over Cyrus, placing his large form between his recruit and Reynolt’s approaching squad like a barrier. Connors almost seemed likeshe wouldn’t answer for a moment, but after taking in the look on Darren’sface, she quietly relented.
“I didn’t. We were lucky.”
The confession was like a punch to the gut. Darren gawped ather, at a loss for what to say. To his surprise, Connors continued unprompted.
“Sometimes the airways close too much and nothing can reachthe lungs. We were lucky Cyrus’ condition was not so severe.” She paused, then added, “This time.”
“Shh!” Darren glanced warily over to where Cyrus was slumped nearby.“Just… don’t say that so loud, okay? He’d never admit it, but I think he’s scared enough right now.”Swallowing thickly, Darren couldn’t help asking one more burning question. “You... soundlike you’ve seen this kinda thing before. If he was… thatsevere… what would have happened?”
This time, Connors opted not to answer. She just gave Darrena long, silent look, then rose to her feet, dusting the grass off her knees. “Weshould rest for a time,” she declared to the gathering group, Reynolt’s squad havingfinally descended the nearby hill to gripe about the holdup. She turned and addressedthe rest of her statement to Hanin. “An hour should be sufficient, sir.”
His hand on Cyrus’ back, expression tense with worry, Haningave a single nod. Although he seemed reluctant to, he stood and strode overto deal with Reynolt, who seemed more than irritated by the setback if his scowl was any indication. Theirconversation was little more than a low, heated hum to Darren as he scrambledback over to Cyrus, slowing his approach to a tentative shuffle as he drewnear.
“Hey…” Darren mustered a feeble smile. “Feeling a bit better?”
Clearing his throat roughly, Cyrus spared him a brief glancebefore rolling his eyes. “I’m fine, kid. Don’t... give me that look.”
He still sounded breathless, but the eye rolling and snippy remark brought a true smile toDarren’s face. “Thank the Maker for that,” he said, then shifted to flop intoa sitting position by Cyrus’ side. They remained like that for a long while, therest of the squad moving over to back up Captain Lavellan as he attempted toreason with the stubborn Reynolt. Sure, stopping now would make them late toarrive at the next camp. Sure, it might get them in trouble for slowing down the mission…
… but, glancing over at Cyrus, who was clearly fighting a sudden anddevastating wave of exhaustion, Darren knew the Orlesian wouldn’t be gettingback up any time soon.
Which meant that neither would he.
And not a single member of Reynolt’s squad – or anyone – could change his mind about that. 
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feynites · 7 years ago
Note
*whispers* Opposite Day Uthvir jumping out of a cake.
(featuring @palindromekomori‘s Wonder)
Sometimes city trends are an absolutely obnoxious trial to work around.
Uthvir can admit that, even though they have to deal with them less often than some other events managers do. Arlathan loves her trends. They help define the favoured from the unfavoured; the fashionable from the forgettable; the high class from the low. And sometimes, they are unavoidable if one wishes to remain relevant.
Which is how Uthvir has ended up on the inside of a cake.
Roughly, anyway.
The party they are at is actually an event being thrown by Wonder, one of Ghilan’nain’s chief diplomats. They had leapt at a chance to participate in preparations. While Ghilan’nain does not have many substantial voices in Arlathan, Wonder is definitely one of the few she can claim. He was a servant of Sylaise prior to Ghilan’nain’s ascension, and is even older than his Lady. His events are rarer than most, but always elaborate and impeccable. And getting in on the preparation stage is a good way to rub elbows and make connections, and earn some commendations; which Wonder himself is often quite free with.
Had Uthvir known what trends the party would follow… well, they would still go for it, of course. But they might have warned Thenvunin.
Then again, maybe not.
It had been Wonder’s insistence that all the mid-ranking managers who helped prepare the event should leap out of cakes.
A suggestion that would seem utterly random and inane, except for the fact that ‘leaping out of cakes’ has become something of a relevant party trend. It began with Ghilan’nain herself gifting Andruil with a ‘cake’ that burst open in a flurry of birds. Delicious birds, which Andruil proceeded to shoot down in quick succession, and then had roasted and served in sweet glazes.
Not to be outdone on the subject of romanticism, Lord June had followed up the display with a birthday celebration for his wife, with a cake that opened up to reveal the illusion of several dancers gallivanting through the tiers.
Ghilan’nain countered his efforts with a cake that opened up to reveal a pair of new living ‘dolls’ for her wife.
And thus the trendiness of ‘things in cakes’ had been set, and had veered notably towards ‘people in cakes’. Of course, elements such as living dolls or cakes the size of small houses were reserved for the leaders themselves. Even the highest ranks would struggle to achieve such things for their own celebrations - and risk skirting too close to the realms of ‘challenging’ the leaders if they tried. It is one thing for Ghilan’nain and June to engage in a celebratory pissing contest, and quite another for some upstart event manager to make them feel slighted.
So mostly the trend had manifested in the form of attractive performers leaping out of cakes.
The Pleasure District, Uthvir believes, has been running quite wild with the concept in particular.
But Wonder’s take had veered more towards some sort of appreciation for the contributions of the party managers.
“You should get a little chance to do something glamorous!” he insisted. “Be a star of the night, too! And this event’s managers are all such lovely, tiny people - it is perfect!”
Uthvir had raised an eyebrow at the comment. Though they suppose Wonder was mainly alluding to the fact that, by chance, none of the mid-ranking managers were more than five span in height.
So now they are inside of a cake. Wearing very little in the way of clothing, beyond some jewelry and a shimmering short skirt, and waiting for the signal to leap out and be charming. Which is in their ability to manage, though there is a reason they never actually went in for the performance lifestyle. The inside of the cake is quite dark, and cramped. They count their breaths, and wait.
And finally, a little light goes off. Granting them a moment’s warning before the top of the cake opens up in a rush of sparkles, and the little circular platform which Uthvir is standing on shoots upwards. They strike a pose, and put on a smile. Though they can barely see past the sparks. Wonder is saying something about his ‘lovely assistants’. Uthvir’s eyes flit over the assembled crowd, before they follow their cue and jump down from the platform, and move to stand in the line up of mid-ranking managers arrayed behind the party’s host.
“Now let the revelries begin!” Wonder exclaims, and throws more sparks into the air.
As the large arrangement of guests offers some applause, Wonder turns to look back towards them all.
“Go on and enjoy yourselves, then, my pretty minions!” he instructs. “The party is well in hand, you should mingle! Feast! Seduce! Make sure everyone is as charmed as I am by the six of you.”
One of the other managers giggles, and draws a wink from the charismatic party planner. Uthvir opts for a bow instead, and takes the offered leave. They have a change of clothes in one of the servants’ alcoves, just a little more suitable for spending a cool winter’s night in, and a few guests they want to try and strike up conversation with.
And a slim chance that Thenvunin did not see that little demonstration. Though they are not certain if they would rather he did or did not.
The question is settled for them when they are barely off of Wonder’s pavilion before an agitated bird swoops in on them.
“Uthvir!” Thenvunin snaps. He is wearing a very high-collared floor-length gown, fashionably pink, with an enviably warm coat. It looks very nice on him. Actually shows off his waist for once, too. “You jumped out of a cake?!”
“Oh is that what that was?” they drawl, wryly. “I could hardly see past the sparkles.”
“You are nearly naked!” Thenvunin hisses.
“Well, yes, that was the uniform for the cake jumpers,” they reason. “Would you care to escort me to a private alcove?”
They give him a flirty look, but he actually seems somewhat agitated over the whole thing. A passing elf - not one Uthvir knows, but they have Sylaise’s markings on - pauses, and gives them a once over.
“Hey, if he doesn’t want to-” they begin.
Thenvunin’s back goes ramrod straight, and before Uthvir can blink, he rears back and punches the other elf right in the gut. Hard enough to send him staggering backwards with a surprised oath, and then a wheeze, and then several unexpected apologies.
Uthvir watches them hurry away.
They point after the stranger.
“How hard did you hit them?” they wonder. That was an awfully thorough withdrawal.
“Just hard enough,” Thenvunin replies, before shrugging off his coat. He hands it stiffly to Uthvir. Who bites back a quip about it at the obvious discomfort in him, and rather, just accepts it. The pink does not clash with their silvery skirt, at least, and it feels wonderfully warm from Thenvunin’s body heat. The party is not actually cold, per se - just not quite warm enough for near-nudity.
“Thank you,” they offer.
“Yes, well. Considering how disreputable you keep making yourself, I suppose I ought to help prevent some of the consequences,” Thenvunin replies, with an unhappy sniff. “Why did you leap out of a cake, of all things? You are a manager, not hired entertainment.”
They shrug.
“It was Wonder’s idea,” they explain.
Thenvunin frowns.
“…Ah,” he says. “Wonder is very influential.”
“Just so,” they agree. Then they wave dismissively. “But he is well-meaning. He wanted to make us all part of the grand display.”
“How generous,” Thenvunin replies, his tone so flat that Uthvir laughs. They reach over, and thread their arm through his. His coat smells like him. For some reason, it is doing wonders for their mood - probably the warmth is a great help on that.
“Come on,” they say. “Let us go and find that secluded alcove. Just you and I - no one else allowed.”
“Uthvir!” Thenvunin protests, as if they have suggested something scandalous. “The party has only begun! You should have some discretion!”
Despite his words and tone, though, he does not resist at they tug him along.
And the look on his face when they get there and pull out a full-length evening gown, in a soft white that compliments his pinks, is well worth all the teasing.
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thelastspeecher · 7 years ago
Note
Super hero au, baking, After discovering his ability to manipulate flames, Stanley decides to abuse this power by baking the cakes his mother used to make when he was younger. And as it turned out, criminals are less likely to mug people in dark alleys if they're given free food. So now Stan is fighting crime both with and without his mask!
🍰 - baking
In what has become a very obvious pattern, I didn’t completely follow your suggestion nor baking prompt.  Technically, it’s related, and inspired by both those things.  Also, I decided to set this in the Superhero AU where Angie’s a supervillain named Sirocco, bc that was what I got inspired for.  Anyways, hope you like it!
Send in an emoji and I’ll write a ficlet!
              Stan groaned silentlyto himself.
              I hate going to the bank.  Ialways get stuck behind some moldy oldie who insists on paying their bills orwhatever with pennies.  Currently, hehad been waiting for fifteen minutes, and was still at the back of theline.  Stan sighed and looked around thequiet, calm bank.  Man, what I wouldn’t give for a distraction.  Somethin’ to keep me from dying of boredom.
              Crash!  Stan instinctivelyducked at the sound of a glass breaking.
              What the hell happened?
              “All right,everybody on the ground, now!” a voice shouted. Stan’s eyes widened; the voice sounded familiar.  He turned around.  Standing proudly in front of the broken glassdoors was his archnemesis, the supervillainess named Sirocco.
              Fuck!  I don’t have my heroingduds on me.  And even if I did, I wouldn’tbe able to mask up without everyone here seeing.  Stan subtly pressed the “SOS” button on hissquad communicator, kept in his back pocket. Hopefully someone can show upbefore Sirocco takes all my dough.
              “Hey, you!” Siroccosaid, noticing him.
              “Uh, me?” Stanasked.
              “Yeah.  Why aren’t you on the floor?”
              “There’s kinda glasseverywhere,” Stan pointed out.  Siroccostormed over to him.  Stan stood stockstill as she stared directly into his face.
              Shit, shit, shit.  What if sherecognizes me?  Sure, she’s never seen mewithout my mask.  But Shermie recognizedme before I even had a chance to introduce myself as Flamethrower.  Sirocco frowned at him.  Something akin to recognition flashed in herblue eyes.  Stan swallowed nervously.  After a moment, Sirocco took a step back fromhim.
              “You seem familiar, stranger,”she said.  
              “I, uh, I hear thata lot.”
              “Hmm.”  Sirocco looked him up and down.  “Don’t know if I buy that, but whatever.”  She began to make her way to the teller.
              “Hey!” Stan blurtedout impulsively.  Sirocco spunaround.  A hot wind picked up in the banklobby.
              “Are you reallygoing to try my patience?  You know who Iam, right?” Sirocco demanded.
              “Yeah.  You’re one of the Twister Twins.”
              “That I am.  I’m a supervillain.  You don’t want to mess with me.”
              “Okay, yeah, yeah,”Stan said, his mind working furiously to come up with a solution that didn’tinvolve revealing his secret identity to everyone at his bank.  “But…maybe you could, I dunno, not…steal ourmoney?”  Sirocco cracked a half-smile.
              “Heh.”  She sounded genuinely amused.  “You’ve got guts.  But what could you offer me that’s betterthan a bunch of money?”  Stan looked at hisbag.  He didn’t really have anything onhim, except for…
              “Homemadesnickerdoodles,” Stan said.  Heimmediately squeezed his eyes shut.
              Fuck, shit, damn! That was a mistake!
              “Homemade…snickerdoodles?”Sirocco said.  Stan opened his eyes.  Sirocco was completely taken off guard.  She stared at him in confusion.  “What- why would ya offer somethin’ likethat?”
              Hold on, Sirocco has a southern accent? She must cover it up normally. Sirocco’s eyes widened as she realized that she had let her accentslip.  She cleared her throat loudly.
              “Those must be the bestcookies in the world,” she said.
              Aaaand the accent’s gone.
              “Nah, I mean, I made‘em.  I dunno if they’re the best in theworld.”
              “You made them?  You don’t look like the type.”
              “Yeah, but, I, uh, Iam.”  Stan opted to not tell her that thereason he was into baking was due to his heat and fire-related abilities.  Sirocco chuckled softly.
              “You’re aninteresting person, Mr…?”
              “I’d rather not say,”Stan said.  Sirocco raised an eyebrow athim.
              “Oh?”
              Was that the wrong thing to do? Sirocco stared at him for a moment. She nodded, marched back to him, and held her hand out.
              “You amused me, stranger,” she said, emphasizing thelast word.
              Oh, no.  That can’t be good.
              “Give me thosesnickerdoodles, and I’ll be on my way.”
              “Wait, really?”
              “Really.”  Sirocco smiled charmingly at him.
              She definitely knows something. Stan rummaged around in his bag and pulled out the plastic containerwith the snickerdoodles he had planned on bringing to Shermie.  I canalways make more.  He handed her thecookies.
              “Thanks,” Sirocco chirped.  She winked at him, then turned on her heeland exited the bank, stepping daintily through the broken glass doors.  Stan stared after her, dumbstruck.
              How the fuck did that work?
----- 
Six Months Later
              Stan landed at thebrawl just as it was ending.  He huffedand shut off his flames.
              Great, missed another fight. He looked around.  Most of themasks involved had dispersed already, but he caught a glimpse of one of theTwister Twins ducking into an alley.  He ranafter the supervillain.
              “Hey, Tsunami!” Stancalled.  The male Twister Twin froze.  “I know that’s your codename.”  Tsunami, the Twister Twin, spun around.
              “How do you know that?” Tsunami snarled,marching over to him.
              “Sirocco told me,”Stan answered.  Tsunami’s eyes widened.
              Huh.  Gray, notblue like Sirocco.
              “Wha- you know her codename too?  What’s going on with you and my sister, huh,Flamethrower?”  
              “It’s…complicated,”Stan managed.  Tsunami scowled.
              “That’s not goodenough.  Look, buddy, Sirocco might be mytwin, but she’s younger ‘n me.  So thatmeans she’s my baby sister.  I don’t likewhatever weird thing is goin’ on with her and some hero.”  Tsunami was getting upset to the point thathis accent was starting to slip.
              Pretty sure he’d kill me if I told him that we’vehooked up twice.  Masks on, yeah, butstill.  If he’s the older twin…
              “I don’t think you wannaknow the details,” Stan said quietly.  Tsunamifrowned at him, confused.
              “What does-”  Tsunami cut himself off and took a stepback.  “Oh.  Oh, no. No.”
              “Uh…surprise?” Stansaid.  Tsunami slammed a fist against oneof the brick walls of the alley.
              “Consarnit!  No wonder she told me to go easy on ya!”  Tsunami glared at Stan.
              If looks could kill, I’d be six feet under rightnow.  Damn.  This seems like an overreaction to finding outyour sister has an active sex life.
              “Whattaya want,Flamethrower?  Spit it out, so that I cango home and talk to my sister about this,” Tsunami spat.
              “I just- I made hersome cookies.”  Tsunami stared at him.
              “…What?”
              “I, uh, I haven’tseen her robbing banks for a while.  Ipoked around, heard that she’s on some kinda sick leave?”
              “You could call itthat,” Tsunami muttered.
              “And, uh, I mean- yeah,we’re archenemies or whatever, but…I like to think I’m getting through toher.  And even if we punch each other inthe face all the time, doesn’t mean I want her to be so sick that she’s gottatake months off.”
              “Yeah, that soundslike a ‘hero’ thing to do.  ‘Speciallysince ya have a…thing goin’ on.”  Tsunamirolled his eyes.  “Hand ‘em over, BoyScout.”
              “I’m not a Boy Scout,”Stan said, digging the small package of cookies he had stashed out of hispocket.  He gave the cookies toTsunami.  “Pretty damn far from it,actually.”
              “Hmph.”  Tsunami frowned at the cookies.  “These aren’t goin’ to poison An- Sirocco orsomethin’, are they?”
              Wait.  Did healmost slip up on his sister’s name?  Hemust be really putoff by all this.
              “No, they’re normalsnickerdoodles,” Stan said.  Tsunamisighed.
              “I’ll test ‘em justto make sure.”  Tsunami turnedaround.  “Thanks or whatever.”
              “Yeah, no- noproblem,” Stan said.  His heart wasracing.
              I knew I shouldn’t have hooked up with Sirocco.  I caught feelings for her, and she’s agoddamn supervillain.  Stan watchedTsunami walk away.  A sick supervillain.  Really sick.  For three months.  Stan frowned. Yeah, three months.  About a month after we did it the secondtime.  Eh, more like six weeks after thathookup.  Stan turned around and beganto walk away.  He froze, rememberingsomething.  Hang on, didn’t Shermie say something aboutsix weeks, when they had that “surprise” kid?  Ice suddenly filled Stan’s veins.  Itusually takes about six weeks for someone to realize…
              “Shit,” Stanwhispered.
              Tsunami was angry about more thanjust his sister hooking up with me.
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afuerterosa · 3 years ago
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Lydia Danell Stone
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Memphis:
|Checking my wrist, eyeing the thread that barely held together there I knew it was going to be any day now. I hadn't taken it off since @AFuerteRosa had tied it on my arm and worry had already taken up residence in my gut at the uncertainty of the last few days but if I knew anything, it was that fate would not get me this far only to take you from me now. Granted you weren't exactly human. You had been gifted certain abilities and skills, such as myself, that had carried you so far in this life, your purpose prior to me was laced up tight until the day I walked down that street. Mama Stone had told me the stories of Boston and how she almost lost him, how at the last minute Papa had called a second midwife in. A regular human hospital had been out in their case too and while Papa could soothe her heart from breaking, taking on a majority of her pain, there was something entirely different about this kind.
As I would come to find out, there were some pains you could protect a person from but others you could not. “Hijo de mi luz.” I could hear my mama like she was still here. The cadence in which her voice carried the name she would call us when we were kids had a way of wrapping us up in that blanket of warm comfort whenever we were scared. And while the memory was one of joy, that feeling of something horrible possibly happening or going wrong never went away fully. Not until it was over and Papa knew Mama Stone was okay, that Boston was going to be okay.
The percentage of death in mothers during childbirth didn't discriminate because you helped finalize one's passage to the other side. We all had a number, some were just called home sooner rather than later and while some comforts were bestowed upon us, there was still a chance that destiny could fuck it all up.
One bad decision could snowball from there and then you're left with the pieces trying to fit them back together into this new normal. Running my fingers through my hair, I blew out a calming breath trying to center myself long enough to get us through this next part, thinking about the first time I took your hand.
You had been so timid, so shy and not so trusting of me until that light from the street lamp burst, pitching us both into that same darkness. In that moment, I knew it was going to be okay.
That no matter what, we were going to be okay and just like with the lyrics from our song, we waited for that hint of a spark. It was that very second all hesitation left your body and you slipped your hand in mine, taking that chance. It felt like it was always meant to be this way.
And as with the natural progression of things, we found ourselves here. We were about to have a baby.
Suddenly, I was transported back, the memories of us always played on my personal station of repeat, however the present song playing was definitely a new release as I watched @AFuerteRosa make that face to keep from swearing. Again.|
Cara Mia, I already called and they are on their way. |We had everyone on standby and I wasn't taking any chances. No matter how much I channeled to soothe, something else was fueling our little nina and it wasn't the habaneros you had with breakfast.|
Lita:
•I had read about Braxton Hicks in that What to Expect When You're Expecting book. I also had researched everything under the moon about what to expect. To the point where you had taken my phone from me on a few occasions and "jokingly" threatened to disable Google from my phone.
Some women described it as strong period cramps. I could handle that. The word strong though. That was a tricky one. What wasn't bad to one might be earth shattering to another. Luckily, I had a high pain tolerance.
When that first Braxton Hicks contraction set in, I knew what it was immediately. I even boasted to you that all my research had been a good thing. Because now I was prepared. They were only mildly annoying, and passed pretty quickly. This, however, was not mildly annoying. This was MUCHO annoying. It felt like our little jalapeno was attempting to break free of my womb directly through my stomach. Unfortunately, I was now on another of those before mentioned time outs because I Googled...again. And under normal circumstances, I might have laughed at the images that popped up from the movies of aliens and other clearly fake things bursting from women's bellies. Today, was not a normal day and instead it sent me into a round of tears.
But now, whatever it was had let up. I think? Putting my hand on my belly, I did a check in. Everything felt normal. Or as normal as you could feel when you're doing your best impression of an overstuffed Walrus. My bras didn't fit. Under boob sweat did nothing for feeling sexy. My feet looked like tamales. Then there was the sharp pains down there. Sitting comfortably was out. Because just as she had run out of room, so had I. Shaking my head with a sigh I mumbled• Definitely not normal... •Refocusing, I attempted another check in. Si, everything felt similar to how it had been last night. Before she attempted to rip free of my belly. Offering you a smile, I spoke a little louder this time for you to hear• Maybe they don't need to come after all. •running my hand over mybelly and still smiling• I think it was just a... •On cue she did it again. This time I gripped the back of the couch with a sharp gasp that cut off my sentence as I whimpered out• Ay yi yi. No more habaneros.
Memphis:
Take my hand. |Having said that, I didn't wait for you to loosen your grip on the couch. The cushion, hell the whole damn thing could be replaced but you and our daughter could not.
One palm was flat against your belly, guiding over the thin soft material of your dress, pressing just enough to feel our baby kick against my hand as if to let me know "Hey! I'm still in here but I want the fuck out!" while my other took yours and laced our fingers together. No amount of smooth talk I did toward our little girl was working and the more she ignored my voice when I asked her to take it easy, the more uneasy I got in return.| Did you want to try a bath? I could even turn on the jets for us. She likes it, remember?
|Your face instantly fell, turning into the poster child of guilt and when you offered me that sheepish grin through gritted teeth, I couldn't help the words that left my lips next.| Or maybe you liked it and just told me that seeing how we have practically lived in the tub the last month. |Trying to make light of it now was probably not the greatest idea considering when you tried to give me that signature laugh of yours it quickly took a sharp turn into dark corners. In other words, major labor pains had hit their stride in this race.
The small bouts of rebound from the recovery of them seemed to go from long periods to short ones fast and when I finally saw those tears spring to your eyes again, that was it. My decision was made and we were getting up.| I'll carry you, Cara Mia. Bed or tub?
Lita:
•Me and my expressive face. It seemed to have gotten worse during this experience. Because as soon as you mentioned the bath, I gave myself away. And I couldn’t help but give a guilty laugh when you pointed it out. Only laughing was not something our little jalapeño appreciated at this moment. Maybe it was the tightening of my muscles when I did it? The slight jiggle of my stomach? Before I could think much more on that I was crying out• Dios mio! Period cramps, mi culo. Que locos. •My grip on your hand like a vice, and I probably left some nail marks too. But this… Another wave of nope was trying to rip through my lower abdomen and hoohah. I didn’t even register your question when you scooped me up• I changed my mind, mi amor. I don’t wanna do this anymore.
Memphis:
Hold on tight, baby.. |Where the fuck were they? Just as I was going to curse them to high heavens, I was swatted back down from the top by Mama Stone herself, when the cell in my pocket went off. The text alerting us that our midwife and company had arrived came through just as we reached the special room I had set up. Opting to help you sit on the bed for a moment, I was trying to be careful with my words as I punched the code to get in, to let them inside. Starting the bath was next and as I took my place right back before you, I tried my bestto use my gift to sooth you both, placing a kiss to your forehead when I do.| They are on their way inside and soon this will be all over. I promise you. Just breathe..
|It even sounded cliché and I don't know, shitty maybe? Just breathe but in that moment my eyes were pleading, begging you to understand that I was doing everything within my power that I knew to do to keep you safe, healthy but most of all, alive.|
Lita:
•I tried that breathing thing you see everyone do. But all it did was make me lightheaded. So that went out the window. Instead I opted for a series of whimpers and colorful words in both languages as I watched you begin filling the tub. And when you returned to stand in front of me I reached out and gripped the front of your shirt tightly. You weren’t getting away again any time soon. Not if I could help it. Shaking my head at your words, I was ready to tell you again I didn’t want to do this anymore. But the look in your eyes caused me to stop• Do you think they can knock me out? I don’t have to be awake for this right? That lady on the news gave birth in a coma.
Memphis:
I don't think that's how this works. |Actually, I was almost sure of it. The death grip that you had on my shirt was no match for the series of kicks our daughter gave you just then. Barely up on the bed, my arms circled around you to keep you steady even as I heard the shuffle of feet behind us.| Baby, I'm not going anywhere but I have to move in order for them to look at you. |I kissed your forehead again, reassuring you that I wasn't leaving and held our laced fingers up to prove my point.| I promise to hold your hand the whole time. I haven't broken a promise to you yet and I'm not starting tonight. So these lovely people are going to make sure of that. Isn't that right? |I looked at the audience that now surrounded us, sealing my fate with them all or rather theirs with us when my gaze reinforced my words pointedly at each one before turning back to you. With a collective "Oh yes! Absolutely!" officially behind us now, our personalized medical team got underway, checking your vitals and prepping you for possible delivery. And just like with the movies, it was like time stood still for only us the second your water broke. There was you and me, holding hands while the whirlwind of chaos ensued around us with machines beeping and daggers for scalpels being tossed in the air and caught. A signal from my brain that this was really about to happen when our first of two midwifes called out to direct you to give one good push..|
-----------------------------------------
Memphis:
|11.52 pm.. That was the time @AFuerteRosa brought our little girl into the world. The night of the 13th had its highs and lows but I had managed to soothe some of the pain just not all. And chaos be damned, our daughter wasn't taking no for an answer in making her appearance known. There was a time or five where I was sure my hand wasn't going to make it out alive by the death grip you had on it.
Remembering that pain from my arm being nearly ripped from its socket, I grinned thinking I would take that pain ten times over again if it meant I would be sitting here with you today. Watching you with our baby left me completely speechless at times and others, all I could do was grin ear to ear when she would start to coo.
The phrase a kid at Christmas came to mind then and if anybody was holding that title, it was me right now. I had already been fighting the reenactment of the Lion King. That desire to hold our daughter to the sky and demand that our kingdom bow before her had been great but with a light chuckle, I knew that was me being biased. Quietly opening the door to the room now, I entered with the box I had picked up during one of our numerous store trips. The boutiques and shops along the strip were no match for either of us when it came to decorating for our Lydia's arrival. With the plush Lulu The Lamb being no exception, I spoke low just to be sure as my feet carried me swiftly to you. Grinning wider when I see @AFuerteRosa holding our little one to her chest.| You want me to take her?
Lita:
•I had never been so thankful for my ability to heal quickly than I was now. It had been a handy thing when a target was extra spunky. Or that time I had been captured. But now, when an entire being had made its way into the world by way of my hoohah, I was thanking all that was holy that I would not be like the women on the baby shows I had been watching the last few months. It also made up for the fact that I didn't have any of the interventions available to me that regular human women did at the hospital.
Luckily, I had you by my side. My own personal pain killer. I shuddered to even try to guess how much worse it might've been without you there. And as if on cue, my thoughts seemed to summon you to the room. My whole face lighting up with a bright smile when I spotted you. That stuffed lamb in your hands earning a soft laugh that had Lydia commenting in baby noises• Si. She needs to spend some time with her Papa too.
Memphis:
|Setting the box down immediately and off to the side, I was quick to grab up Lulu and the soft plush blanket to match, placing them both on the bed beside you.| I don't know if you'll get her back once I take her, Cara Mia.
|I had been teasing just a bit as I pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it too. Having read about the skin to skin contact further solidifying the bond between father and child, I gave you a wink first before slipping into the king size bed with you, offering a tender kiss to the top of her head after placing a meaningful one to your lips. Carefully taking Lydia when you hand her over and cradling her to my chest now.| You did you so good with her, baby. You really did. You feeling good?
Lita:
•Hormones were definitely raging. Because you taking off your shirt already had a lot of thoughts going through my mind that I had to suppress. Meeting your lips with a happy hum, I lifted her carefully from my chest and handed her over before turning on my side to face you. My smile so wide it almost made my cheeks hurt as I watch you with our little Lydia• Thank you, mi amor. I feel pretty good right now.
Memphis:
|Making faces at our little one was a first for me too. So many firsts I thought as I bumped her cute little nose with my own, whispering to her.| I promise to always protect you, mija. Sometimes that's not always going to be how you like it but it will be because your Mamá and I love you so very much. |Glancing over to you when I hear that familiar sniffle, I lean in to kiss away your tears, happy ones that they were and enjoy this time with you snuggled up with our baby.|
My heart is so full because of you. Both of you. My stomach on the other hand..|Just then, Lydia started to put up a fuss and I let out a chuckle.| Apparently, she is hungry again. Would you like something, Cara Mia? |I had the fridge stocked with anything we could want preparing for not just Lydia but @MindYourPanties and @LaLolaDelores too.|
Lita:
•Watching you with our little nina had my heart swelling and tears filling my eyes. Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly fall any deeper in love with you, here we were. Laughing at myself when you kiss my tears away• You are already such a good papa. •Smiles as I continue to watch you. Only faltering when she starts to fuss• Oh, pobrecita. Tienes hambre? •Moves to sit up before finally answering your question• I could eat too. Si.
Memphis:
Si, she is. |Giving Lydia another huge grin and a kiss to her forehead before gently handing her over, I watched to make sure you were comfortable with her before grabbing up the soft blanket to cover around you both.| You can have anything you want. What sounds good? |Already feeling reluctant to leave you, I laughed more to myself with a shake of my head. I was just going to the kitchen not into town.| Name the first three things that come to mind. |Opting to leave my shirt off, I slide out of bed and head for the door, opening it as I waited to see what was on the menu for tonight and looked over my shoulder back to you.| I will be bringing back some dessert I know that. So main course only please. |grins|
Lita:
•Takes Lydia from you and gets us situated, smiling at you when you put the blanked over us• Hmm… •My mind going blank now that I don’t have her inside me to call the shots• I think my mind went blank. •cracks up• Rice? •nods slowly• Si. I want Spanish rice. Wait, it’s Tuesday isn’t it? Tacos. I want tacos and rice.
Memphis:
For two more hours or so.. |Smirks when I pause right outside the door and turn back, poking my head back into the room to see you loving on our baby girl once more.| That was two things. What is the third? Throw something random in there. |laughs|
Lita:
•brushes my fingers over Lydia’s head, humming softly before looking up at you in the doorway again• Um… •chews my bottom lip• Garlic bread. •laughs at the look on your face and shrugs a shoulder• It sounds good.
Memphis:
Garlic bread. |Laughing, I give a salute with a wink and head off for the kitchen. Taking a moment to check on the furry kids before I do. Gizmo hadn't left your side for most the day but there were others that had been acquired in the short time we had been here. Once I made those rounds, letting everyone out and back in, my sights finally landed on the industrial size fridge I had put in. Our family had grown into a family of five overnight with my brother's arrival and as I set the oven on to cook and got to work on the rice first, my thoughts drifted to the fact that they were really here. The story of their courtship was something even Papá would have been proud of I thought as I assembled the tacos next while the garlic bread finished baking. Finally plating up once it was all done and I loaded it up on a tray for us to enjoy together. My final destination for the night, our bedroom.| I hope this is to your liking, Cara Mia. |Grins proudly at the spread I sit out for you after I entered the room, seeing our Lydia fast asleep.| Has she been out long?
Lita:
•Once you left the room, I went back to humming to our little nina. The song I was humming oddly familiar as I wracked my brain to try and figure out where I had heard it from. It was Gizmo who reminded me when he nuzzled her little leg• You are just like Lady in that Disney movie… •pauses mid sentence and laughs• That’s it. Amor, you’re not the only one channeling that movie it seems. •laughs a little more before Lydia lets out a cranky fuss and I hush myself, beginning to rock her gently and hum again until she falls asleep, and looking up at you with a smile when you re-enter the room• She just drifted off. She has a full belly, a dry booty, and we had our own little Disney moment. •laughs softly as I carefully climb from the bed and lay her down in the bassinet•
Memphis:
She seems to be adjusting well to the sleep schedule so far. |Speaking of which, I gestured you closer before grabbing up your hand, pulling you over to sit beside me so we could dig into our food.| I suppose I might have jinxed us then so maybe we should eat while we can. |Chuckles low, trying not to wake the baby while she sleeps and I slide the plate with the rice on it before you. Grabbing up a taco for myself from the other.| Just in case she does wake up.
Lita:
•my eyes going wide when you say that before laughing when you say exactly what I was thinking• Si. Don’t jinx it. •slides back into the bed next to you, pulling the plate into my lap• I am starving. •scoops some of the rice up then pauses, turning to look at you with a wide smile• Thank you, amor. For making this so I can still eat good food instead of just some cereal or something.
Memphis:
You're not just feeding yourself but the baby too. |Takes another bite of my taco, finishing it off with another bite soon after and I wipe my mouth with a napkin.| Some cereal can be good for dessert but not the main course. No matter what others might think. |laughs again, grabbing up a bite of rice this time then promptly chowing down on another taco, dipping it into the sauce first.|
Lita:
•It was as if time froze at that moment, my mind capturing every detail of this moment. My handsome husband eating in the bed next to me, enjoying the feast he had just spoiled me with. Our first baby, Gizmo, dutifully watching everything at the foot of the bed. And our sweet little nina fast asleep in her bassinet. My heart was so full. And I was grateful for everything that had happened in my life up until this point. The good and the bad. Because it all brought me to this perfect moment in time that I wouldn't trade for the world•
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flaming-potato-arson · 7 years ago
Text
Angel Rider Part 0ne
Altea Creek. Of course. Why had Lance expected anything else?
The tradition goes as stated below: every year on Christmas, after excessive gift giving and wrangling all of his relatives into a few cars, someone gets to pick where they go and what they do. Some years, the choosen location is closed and they go somewhere else, wether it be the Speedway down the road or the state park two hours from his house. Every year ended up wild and crazy - everything tended to end up wild and crazy with his family, Lance supposed - and a ton of fun. Even when it didn't seem like it.
Altea Creek did not seem like fun to Lance. To his horse crazed, nine year old sister who had been sprouting horses facts for the past five months, it was like Santa and God did a duel blessing/present from Heaven.
"Horses, horses, horses...." Rod chanted softly, swirling the end of a plastic horse's tail on her finger, swinging her feet. Lance held in a groan, opting to look out the frosted window of his mom's mini van, Shaikra blasting in his ears from his ear phones.  The snow was coming down more thickly the farther out they got, a decent foot on the ground as far as the eye could see. The warm, cinnamony smell of his aunt's annual gifted air freshener and artifical hot air filled the car, which Lance thought was much better than the chill outside.  Voices threatened to block out his music, with his three older siblings in the very back row, and three of his four younger siblings inbetween them, all talking and screaming and reading and just generally being themselves.
Lance sighed, shifting against the window.
"Lance, lindo, is something wrong?" Curse-not-curse his mother's innate ability to sense apathy and sadness.
"Nothing, mama. Just a little worn out." He gave a tired smile back at her. She had twisted around almost completely in the passenger's seat to look him dead in the eye, the family junk that always got left in the car piled around her. "Are you sure? You've been holed up in your room a lot lately. Singing....playing loud music...." She trailed off before finishing quickly. "It's alright if you're tired - you can nap in the car while we go on a sleigh ride, if you need to. " Her bright blue eyes (the ones he had inherited) shined back at him. Lance focused on the swaying, classic green alien head hanging from the rearview mirror.
"Nah, I'll come."
"Okay, mi hijo." She sat up as his dad took a wide turn off the freeway on to a long, winding dirt road. Lance watched the alien head against the falling snow through the windshield before exhaling and closing his eyes.
Maybe some Shakira will help.
Oh my god this was the worst idea ever -
Slamming the car door shut, Lance took in the multitude of families wandering around and stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. His aunt's car pulled up behind them, and a door swung open before the car even stopped, his nephew throwing himself out of it. Yelling poured into the air as the rest of the doors opened, countless cousins, aunts, uncles, parents, grandparents, and sibling unfolding like clowns from a clown car.
Someone was yelling at his nephew, - thank god, someone had to break him of that habit- cars locked with affirmative beeps,  and dozens of tiny little hands were pulling on his jacket, leading him in the familiar wave of being lost in the crowd that was his family, voices he knew well becoming background noise.
Lance took the time to actually look at his surroundings, checking out the spots where someone might think to hide if they found it funny. Tall, thick evergreen trees made for a shadowy forest on the edges of the premises, with plenty of nooks and crannies to slip inside. A few smaller, barn-like buildings dotted the mostly open, snow covered fields, but a big, firetruck red one dominated the area with a lingering warm and welcoming aurora. A long, thin building replicated itself, leaving an open path in between what he assumed where the stables.  
Stable workers walked around in elf and Santa like clothes, directing couples and kids to sleighs and others hitching horses to lead said sleighs. Laughter and excited squealing came from just about everyone, but someone's laugh tinkled like bells to Lance.  She was bent over, talking to a kid, crystal white hair spilling in waves out of a hat topped with a bell. The classic elf get up fit her nicely, her dark skin a refreshing change from the regular green. The Santa with a prosthetic arm and tuff of bleached hair next to her smiled down at the kids, one hand resting on her back. Their smiles were bright and wide, and the pair of them looked like something of a re-imagined Hallmark card.
It was sickeningly cute and Lance turned away, following his family.
"Hello, if you'd just follow me-" A short gremlin with short, messy hair lead the majority of his family towards a sleigh, a giant, butterscotch colored gypsy horse harnessed to it. The complete feathered look gave it away and Rod had been drilling him with horse facts constantly. Silently, Lance looked at the creases in the attendant's forehead and the look in his mother's eyes and lead a few of the smaller kids away. Ella, his older cousin, joined him with a quick wave.  His mama shot him a smile, and he returned it, herding six kids into a mostly open area.
"Okay, everyone stay in sight of this area. Waiting your turn can get boring, but if we all wander off we're going to get lost, okay?" A chorus of "okay's" came back to him. His nephew - Geroniom, not the crazy, throws-himself-out-of-moving-cars one and his baby sister sat down in the snow, content to throw it at each other, Ella quickly plopping down with the two toddlers. Rod was vibrating with excitement, virtually teleporting around the edge of the clearing to look at every passing horse. The other three were attempting to make a snow fort, that was actually coming along pretty well.
Deciding that his siblings and cousins could handle themselves, Lance turned on his music and shoved his phone in his pocket. His recent Twitter feed wasn't really appealing and the cold wasn't bad enough to need a distraction from. Dropping himself on to a bench, Lance closed his eyes, letting the sounds of a Hallmark movie come to life fill his ears and time cease to exist.
What Hallmark movie involved blood curdling screaming?
Snapping up, joints popping, Lance jumped off the bench and whipped his head around. Pounding and surprised screaming came from the stables, people running away from a literal fucking blur. Lance could only see glimpses of what he thought was a horse while employees tried to capture it before it got out to the clearing. Urgent bells were ringing, adding to the chaos. It was getting closer, and definitely was a horse. An attendant with a jet black mullet made a last grab for the reins, but the horse charged out the stable doors. Snow exploded where inky blue hooves pounded down. It was like someone had ripped an ink blot through a blank canvas. The whole horse was a deep blue that almost looked black, powerful legs launching it across the ground. Frantic energy filled it's motions, fear and anxiety dictating where and how it bolted.
Bolted right towards his little sister in the middle of the clearing.
Rod was frozen with fear, facing the oncoming bullet with her hands up.
The horse didn't seem like it was going to stop.
The horse wasn't going to fucking stop.
Fucking hell.
Lance didn't really care when he started running, just that he was running towards his sister. He wasn't on the track team for damn nothing. The snow tried to cling to his feet, but each adrenaline filled stride shook it off. That horse was fucking big - Some white soccer moms were screaming - and it wasn't going to fucking stop - the chilly air burned horribly with how fast he was taking it in - Goldenrod is nine that beast could fucking kill her- everything was blurry but his little sister - fucking horses - panicked energy circulated heat through his entire body, he swore he felt like a lit fire work - aren't you supposed to approach that fucking thing sideways, fuck it - he slipped - fucking NO - he gained the ground back -oh my fucking god - and tossed himself in between Rod and the horse.
Sharp hooves slammed down inches from his face,  a startled neigh accompanying it. Sweat dripped down the horse's dark blue coat. It - no, she - reared back, rocking on her hind legs. The leathery brown reins shook in front of his face, whipping around with each movement the horse made.
Lance yanked them down.
Wide, fear blown out eyes met his, hot horse breathe almost mixing with his. Stress literally vibrated off this horse, giant frightened huffs and puffs expanding her whole chest. Sky blue eyes stared him down, terror swirling in pitch black pupils. Lance let his eyebrows raise in a stressed out manner and knew he made a mistake.  A rough jerk nearly ripped his hand off his wrist when she tried to buck back, to get away from him, but he gritted his teeth and  held on, trying to anchor her down.
Rule one of horses : Don't show fear or stress. Rule two : They like music.
His phone was off and he couldn't risk letting go. Too many people were around, dead silence dripping stress and caution from the shifty crowd.  If anyone got too close, she's freak and Lance didn't know how much longer he could fight the weight of a wild horse.
Well, he could sing.
"A steady beat goes one, two, three, four " Lance let his eyelids slide down, refusing to make eye contact with the horse. Carefully, he put a hand on her nose, and was a little relieved she didn't try to bite it off.  He let the cold seep into him, letting it encourage him to remain calm."A steady heart goes I love you more"  Her breathing stopped feeling like a punch to the gut and more like a slap to the face against his fingers. "I know, sometimes  it's confusing"
With slow, conscious steps, he started to lead her to the stables, avoiding anyone. When she flinched away, ebony tail dancing, he made eye contact.  "Pick out a moment when you couldn't make up your mind, and you think your entire life is timed" he could hear the quiet crunch of hay under his feet, but he wasn't in the stables. Where were the stables? "You said it's your choice but who's choosing?" A blurry something edged in the corner of his eye, and Lance pushed a hand out, not daring to lose eye contact and unwilling to let this stranger get closer.  (He hopes they were dragging Rod away from the horse.)
"You told me we were the perfect song, so I continued to sing along" At least he didn't sound horrible. Lance never thought three years of chorus would come in handy. Then again, he never expected to be leading a crazed horse through snow. "But now that I know what this is all about, I'll stop talking, and shout..." Warm, giant hands eased onto his shoulders suddenly and Lance had to fight to keep his voice steady. "Hey, I thought we were the greatest symphony, melody, harmony," "Hi, I'm Hunk." A warm breath whispered in his ear, faintly smelling of heat and peppermint. Lance kept singing, monitoring the horse's jostling before she settled. This horse really didn't like anybody. He put his hand back on her muzzle, relishing in the warm air she gave off.
"I'm gonna lead you to the stables okay? I need you to keep singing until we get her squared away. We haven't named her yet and she's really flighty - came from a bad place, and you're the first person to actually calm her down. We're pretty close, just follow my lead, yeah?"
Lance nodded, staring deadfast into sky blue eyes, letting the motion of giant hands on his shoulders push him where he needed to go.  He ignored everything in favor of singing for the horse is front of him, adding a soothing note to the lyrics when she almost fought against going in the stable the guy was pushing him towards - moving a horse backwards was probably a really bad idea, but Lance wasn't going to try his luck anymore today.
Eventually, she was completely inside, shifting around as he and Hunk backed out, Lance letting the words die on his tongue. The door swung close with a solid click, and she neighed softly from the pile of hay she had curled up on. "Look man, I'm really sorry about all this-" Hunk started when Lance turned to face him, hands springing up in a defesive gesture, chestnut eyes wide. There was a light pink tinge burning through the dark color of his ears, a yellow strip of fabric dangling against one.
"It's fine. Nothing really happened -" Lance cut him off, slicing a hand through to air to silence him. Despite his size, Hunk looked like a nervous mouse but the adrenaline leeched out of Lance, leaving him suddenly dead tired, and ready to get the hell out of this crazy horse ranch. "Yeah, but -" Hunk tried to match his unwavering strides through hay and mud. "Look, I'm really tired, so I'm gonna assume you're worried about legal stuff, right? I'm not gonna sue or anything - here you can have my number if you're really that worried" Pulling a pen out of his pocket, Lance bit the cap off and snatched Hunk's bulky forearm. "Yeah, okay, goodbye." Finishing the little scibble with his name, he pulled back and stalked back out.
The rest of his family must have gotten off the sleigh and were crowding around Ella and the others, loudly chattering. He slipped inside, using the fact Ella was the one telling the story and thus, the attention was all on her, to sidle up to his mom and not be noticed. "I'm going to go nap in the car." He said in her ear, not sticking around even when she tossed a surprised  glance his way, treking through the snow to the minivan. Heaving open the back hatch, he wriggled inside, slammed it shut, and flopped on to the row of seats. Sighing, he shifted around, found a blanket folded in the pouch on the back of the seat, spread it over himself, let his tired blue eyes flutter shut in the muted darkness of the near empty car, and passed out.
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whatifwallywas · 7 years ago
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Hey, y’all. I’m back. And gone again. See you next year- knowing me - and thanks for reading! <3 
062 Catwoman's sidekick?
Selina wasn't sure where did he come from or for how long he's been out on the streets. He was just another stray that followed the others in search for a dry place to hide.
She's seen him regularly over the past couple of months, often scavenging for food in the nearby dumpsters and sharing it with the rest of the strays or just walking around and gathering empty cans, probably to sell later.
Today he was doing neither, it seemed.
When she walked into the alley, her high heels echoing loudly throughout the damp street, a dozen pairs of eyes turned towards her, tails going up and happy meowing starting in earnest at the sight of her.
Her little strays.
And him.
The kid was a young, scrawny looking thing. He sat, crouched with his back against the wall, huddled on himself with three of her kitty-cats in his lap. Another, smaller one slept peacefully, hidden from the wind and cold inside his pulled-up hood.
The kid glanced up at her as she was walking by, offering her a smile but not moving any further than that, conserving energy and warmth offered by the cats.
Her strays followed diligently after her and soon enough the alley was filled with the loud mewls and demands of food and attention.
She turned towards him once she had her hand closed around the railing of the fire escape.
"My offer still stands." She ensured him, her small grin widening when a surprised grin found its way onto his face. She inclined her head up, towards her flat. "Come on, kitty-cat." She teased gently, before scaling the stairs in a couple fluid moves.
She heard her strays running after her, letting out delighted meows as they followed.
He didn't always follow her up, but he seemed to be more and more at ease with her every time they ran into each other.  He actually had a hidden sassy side that she loved to bring out in him, and was a very sweet and happy, albeit a hesitant kid.
Today, the streets were damp and the wind was cold and biting. When she reached her balcony and glanced down, he was slowly moving towards the ladder, his moves stiff from sitting still in the cold for too long.
Her other strays had no qualms of this sort and were right behind her when she finally stepped inside her apartment.
One flick of the switch and the whole space was filled with warm light, the cats happily following her into the kitchen where they impatiently demanded to be fed.
By the time she grabbed all the cans and brought them over to the living room, the kid was up there with her.
He carefully took his dirty shoes off and set them by the entrance to the balcony. His dirty socks were full of holes but at least mostly dry so he wasn’t leaving any prints on the floor.
She never really cared about the mess - the other strays made a whole new mess all on their own -but he seemed pretty adamant about taking his shoes off while inside.
She guessed that whoever he was with before made sure he did that.
"Hi Selina." His voice was a bit scratchy from the lack of use but he still sounded cheerful when he went over to her and helped her put the cat food into bowls. "How are you?"
"Hello kitten." She greeted back, blowing a stray hair away from her face as they worked, her voice calm as she started telling him about her day.
They were done in no time and the apartment soon was filled with the soothing sound of purring cats.
"I'll order us some food while you take a bath." She told him and his brows furrowed with uncertainty once more.
"Are you sure it's okay?" When she first met him, she wasn't sure what he meant by that. Later he apologised for using her water, her soap, towels and then on top of that eating her food.
She gave him an encouraging little grin.
"I'm sure, kitten." She reassured, before picking up her phone. "You can put everything in the washing machine. There is a shirt for you next to it."
She waved off his uncertain murmurs of 'are you sure' and 'you didn't have to' and smiled at his stuttered thank yous as the kid finally walked into the bathroom.
She could hear the sound of the shower being turned on soon after.
By the time the take out was delivered the kid emerged from the bathroom, freckled face clean and red hair damp.
He was barefoot, his nails cut short and wearing a clean pair of sweatpants that he left here last time and which were just a smidge too big on him. He had two sets of clothes that he owned and usually left one of them here to wash while he wore the other.
The new sweatshirt she got him was light grey and a bit too big, but it was warm and she didn't miss his delighted smile at the baby pink color of the cute cat printed in front.
They sat on the couch, laughing and eating, exchanging stories and talking about the time they spent apart. Wally was a very humorous individual and even her worst day didn’t seem so bleak with his infectious smile. They could effortlessly talk for hours, and soon enough it was getting very late, and it was clear that the kid’s head was getting heavier and heavier. When he finally rested it on the back of the couch and his eyes slipped shut, Selina stood up, draped a blanket over his slumbering form and after making sure all of her other strays were alright, turned off the light and whispered “Goodnight kittens. Goodnight Wally.”  before retreating to her bedroom.
By the time she woke up the next morning he was long gone, her flat tidied up to the best of his ability with all of the kitty bowls put back in the kitchen and the blanket carefully folded on the arm of the couch. Her flat was mostly empty now, save for some cats that preferred to get some more sleep- most of them usually left with Wally, to begin their day early.
Unlike the cats, he won’t return for another few days, when she’ll find him crouched in that alley again and invite him in. And again, he will stay the night before leaving in the morning. He was acting like some of her other strays- hurt by humans one too many times to trust fully, but Selina was nothing if not patient. If she managed to tame all her other strays, this one will not be an exception.
__
It was a couple months later when he agreed to stay over for breakfast. He very hesitantly sat at the kitchen counter with her, eating blueberry pancakes that she prepared for them, and Selina couldn’t have been prouder of his progress. He must have noticed her good mood, because soon enough he started to relax and laugh with her again, probably not realising that her smile and pride was reserved for him only.
He helped her load up the dishwasher and walked her all the way down when she was leaving for work using the proper staircase for the first time instead of the usual route through the fire escape. They bid goodbyes and went their separate ways, but she maintained the good humor well into the night. Her job consisted mostly of pointing out security flaws to big corporations- that she had previously broken into, but her employers didn’t need to know that- and the work was not hard but long and tedious when it came to writing the reports. That day, however, even that seemed bearable. If Batman noticed her wider than usual grin when she punched him in the gut during their fight that night, he did not comment on it. He let her ‘slip away’, after making sure he had the goods she tried to steal secured and back in their rightful place.  
__
“Sit down, kitten” She told him, the moment he stepped out of the shower shaking her head at his weak protests about his hair still being wet and not wanting to soak the couch, and made sure he was comfortable before draping the blanket over his shivering form. The moment she did he was surrounded with cats, all wanting to get as close as possible to the new heat source and sprawling in his lap and next to his head. He carefully petted the calico who laid down closest to his hand and the purring that resounded helped him relax and ease into the pillows.   The weather has been terrible the last couple of days and it was obvious that the kid finally came down with a cold. She knew he’d been pushing his luck for months now, staying long hours on the streets during winter, when the weather in Gotham was bad all year around, and refusing to stay over at her place for longer than a day at a time.
She brought him a towel and had him wrap his hair, so he wouldn’t make his cold even worse and sat down next to him, making sure not to get too much into his personal space.
“I’m going to put my hand on your forehead to check for temperature, alright?” She informed him calmly and waited a few seconds before he hesitantly nodded his head, before carefully reaching out towards him. He looked terrible with his feverish skin, eyes bruised from the lack of sleep and body still shaking, even after the hot shower he took. From time to time he let out a pretty bad, wet cough, that he tried to muffle behind his too-long sleve.
He twitched when her hand made contact with his forehead and somewhere in the back of her head she realised this was probably the first time they consciously, purposefully touched, and how careful Wally always was about personal space and boundaries.
Having confirmed his raised temperature, she turned the tv on, volume low- Wally loved sci-fi, action movies, news and documentaries. He didn’t really enjoy supernatural movies- for now opting for the news channel before she left to make some tea with honey and order food.
Her fridge had some food in it, but it definitely didn’t have enough vegetables to make a soup so she ordered congee from the chinese restaurant down the street. She brought him some cold medicine, along with a roll of toilet paper- she would buy a few boxes of tissues tomorrow-  and a trashcan.
The food arrived soon after and they both sat on the couch watching the tv when the story about the museum’s new temporary exhibit came on. The priceless bracelet with an enormous alexandrite was in Gotham for one week only, and soon enough will be shipped off to another continent to continue its tour around the world. It would be a pity if something were to...happen to it. Selina bit the inside of her cheek and glanced sideways at her company only to realise he was already looking at her, eyes tired but a knowing grin present on his face.
“Are you going today?” He inclined his head towards the tv, as the cameras showed a close up of the gem.
She followed his gaze, then looked back at him, before considering for a moment, noting how exhausted and sick he looked. What if he wanted a glass of water in the middle of the night? Or started coughing and couldn’t stop? Or decided to leave in the middle of the night even though he’s sick? “No.” She looked at the tv and stretched her legs, putting them on the coffee table in front of her “Too much competition.” She glanced back his way after hearing his bewildered huff, and then a short round of coughing.
“That never stopped you before.” He rasped staring at her, before his brows furrowed in worry. “Is it because of me?” He asked concerned, before trying to get up from under the blanket, careful not to disturb any of the sleeping cats. “I’m sorry, I can go -”
A hand on his shoulder caused him to flinch slightly, before she gently pushed him back on the pillows.
“Slow down, kitty-cat” She chided gently, before regarding him seriously “I do want to go. And I will only if you promise you’ll stay put in the flat.” At his guilty expression she rolled her eyes with a smile “You’re not on house arrest or anything. But I want you to stay home and recover.”
She immediately noticed how his entire body froze at her words and for a moment she was worried she said something wrong. Then, he carefully picked up the closest cat - a fat, black and white boy named Pineapple who lived next door but loved hanging out at her place- and hugged him, burying his face in his fur.
“Home” She heard him whisper as Pineapple let out a dissatisfied noise and her eyes softened. “Thanks Selina” If his words sounded a bit choked up, she pretended not to notice.
“No problem, Wally”.
Later that night she donned her Catwoman suit and left to...retrieve...the bracelet.
She was almost out the door -window- of the museum, when everything became more complicated - to her great advantage. She knew Batman was going to be at the scene- how could he not be? It came as a surprise that Gotham’s Museum still tried to hold exhibitions after the constant break-ins it suffered at the hands of villains.
Speaking of. It was a child’s play to slip in and out unnoticed, once Batman had his hands full with Penguin and his henchmen and two other, smaller criminal groups which wanted to use the gem in order to make a quick buck. Just as she predicted.
Her buyer was ready to pick the package up almost immediately after she got it and paid in cash. When she received the suitcase with the money - oh my, how old-school- the ship with the buyer and the bracelet left Gotham. Selina might have failed to mention that the bracelet probably had a tracking device- if she knew Batman well enough. Which she did- and that the Dark Knight will probably come for it soon enough. It was a good thing that she didn’t care.
Coming back home after depositing the money, to see Wally sleeping peacefully on her couch surrounded by cats made her feel just as good as stealing the gem did. It was nice to have someone home to come back to.
___
Wally stayed over for an entire week until she donned him well enough to leave the house. She - as always- invited him to stay over for as long as he wanted. He- as always- left the first chance he got.
She didn’t see him for a long while after that- she knew him well enough to figure out he thought he overused his stay and wanted to stay away in case she was tired of him. She did come back home one day to find a box of chocolates- her favourite, expensive kind- laying on the balcony, along with a dead bird and a bottle cap, the latter two being a common occurrence since two of her strays loved to bring her gifts. She picked up the box, his own gift for her. Whether he used up all his savings to buy it for her or simply stole it, she had no idea, nonetheless, she appreciated the sentiment.
She glanced at a pretty big box, leaning against the wall in the hall, first of many to arrive and hoped he would enjoy the gift she had for him as well.
__
When he finally arrived at her place, two and a half weeks after he left, a “new”,old, brown coat that he found somewhere, resting on his back, he blinked confused at the mess that became of her living room.
He gently knocked on the glass of the balcony doors and she beckoned him in. He slid it open and took off his shoes, leaving them on the doormat just inside the flat so they wouldn’t get soaked by the snow and rain outside.
“Are you redecorating?” He asked with a grin seeing the opened up box and scattered pieces of some ready to be assembled shelf? Cupboard? On the floor. Selina stood up from the floor, re-adjusting her headband and using the extra seconds to discreetly look him over- he looked cold and tired, as always when he slept away from her place, and he seemed to have lost the little weight he managed to gain while staying over last time. She covered her worried frown with a smile.
“It’s actually the last of the boxes” The question in his eyes -but what are they for?- Was clear, and she cheekily ignored it as she turned towards the kitchen. “I’ll make us food while you shower”.
Her grin widened hearing his amused huff, as he mumbled “Alright...Thank you” as he shuffled towards the bathroom and she quickly made some spaghetti.
By the time he was done, the food was ready and they ate together, before Wally helped her assemble the piece of furniture- it turned out to be a bedside table- Selina still refusing to address his inquiries and smoothly changing the subject every time he asked.
“Alright. We’re done.” She finally said, after it was complete and the pieces of cardboard were moved to the hall where the cats were having the time of their life, jumping on them and sitting in the smaller boxes. There were a lot of boxes, Wally noted. “Help me move it to the right room.”
Selina’s flat was big, with a very spacious living room connected by an archway to the hall and kitchen, with a smaller corridor leading to the bathroom, her bedroom and a spare room she used as her study. Or rather, didn’t use since she always sat in the living room anyway.
It was that particular room that she started pulling the bedside table to. It was pretty light, and she was strong as heck, so he was convinced that she asked for his help in moving it only to humor him. When they entered, he couldn’t help but whistle in appreciation. What was previously a pretty sparsely decorated room was now looking cozy and homely. The walls were still the same dark forest green color, but the big desk that used to be in the middle, was pushed against the wall. The bookcase stayed in its place against the other wall, but next to it stood a brand new wardrobe. There was also a comfortable looking single bed without covers and a cat house in the corner - Selina had at least six of them around the house, four of which were in the living room. He looked around curiously, wondering why would she need another bedroom anyway, when his gaze fell on the corkboard above the desk. There was nothing on it, except a couple of colorful, glittery letters strung together.
W A L L Y ‘ S    R O O M
He stopped dead in his tracks. Selina must have noticed his shock, because she easily pushed the bedside table to it’s place next to the bed and took the lamp that was on the windowsill and put on top of it. She turned to him with a smile, but it quickly disappeared when she saw tears in his eyes.
He sniffled and quickly covered his face with his sleeve. It was the same light grey sweatshirt with a baby pink cat on it that she’d given to him months before, looking worse to wear and almost fitting him perfectly now that he’s grown a bit.
“Kitten-” She started gently but he cut her off.
“I don’t deserve this.” He mumbled into his arm, standing in the middle of the room, entire body shaking, trying not to sob too loud. She sat down on the floor and pulled him to her, carefully embracing him and letting him hide his head in the crook of her neck. After a short moment he hugged back, clinging to her desperately while he hiccuped. “I don’t-” “You do.” She murmured back. “You do. You will always have a place here, kitten. Stay.” She told him seriously, rubbing circles into his skinny back. “Stay.”
___
He stayed. ___
“Catwoman” The deep, gravely voice caused her to stop in her tracks and grin.
“Batman” She purred happily, turning on her heels, a small satchel filled with jewelry on her back. “Long time no see.” She said, tilting her head at the third person present. “Your little friend is adorable.”
The dark haired boy behind Batman huffed as he stood straighter.
“I’m not that little. And thank you.” He answered with a grin, his tone friendly and cocky but his stance showing he’s ready to fight. Catwoman didn’t miss the subtle click of a batarang being freed from the gauntlet and couldn’t help but shake her head. The moment it was let loose, she ducked and the projectile flew right past her head but straight toward the shop’s alarm button. However, the alarm never rang. Catwoman tutted.
“How rude of you, Batman. Can’t you see we were having a conversation?” She grinned, when something moved behind her, swiftly and soundlessly.
The batarang was lodged into a piece of plywood, held securely in the hands of her new acquaintance.
Wally nonchalantly set the piece of wood on the ground, before cocking a hip and looking the other kid over.
“Hi.” He said finally, with a cheshire-cat-like grin. “Nice to finally meet you, Robin.”
The younger boy blinked confused at the redhead, before a matching, delighted grin found its way on his face.
“Likewise, Kid-Cat” __
Don’t fight them don’t fight them don’t fight them
“Get out the way, nerd!”
“Didn’t you hear him?” “What’s wrong? Are you going to cry?”
Dick grit his teeth as he was pushed around a couple of times before a particularly strong shove sent him tumbling to the floor along with his backpack. He sighed through his nose in agitation, quietly enough so the bullies wouldn’t hear it. Gosh was it frustrating not to fight back.
The bigger kids finally seemed to be getting bored by his lack of response, so they shouted a couple more insults before going their own way and the 10 year old was left alone to pick up his belongings. He noticed a kid rounding the corner just as he was reaching for the last book. “Hey, you alright?” The redhead asked, walking over quickly and offering him a hand up, which he gladly accepted.
“Yeah, thanks” He quickly patted down his pants, to get the dirt off his knees. He shouldered his bag and turned towards the other kid.
A very familiar looking kid. A very familiar looking kid that may or may not be linked to crime and also cats. He tried his best not to show his surprise but the redhead must have noticed the slight twitch of his shoulders because he paused and considered the brunette for a moment. Dick felt sweat gathering on his brow the moment he saw the other kid’s eyes light up in recognition. Bruce said that Catwoman knew Batman’s secret identity, so it would make sense that her sidekick was in on the secret.
He didn’t expect the readhead to beam happily and stick his hand out to shake, no trace of hostility in his stance.
“Hi” For a second the grin became cheshire-like and very very familiar “Nice to finally meet you, I’m Wally Kyle”.
The younger boy blinked, before returning the grin. He had the feeling that they were going to make very good frenemies. He just couldn’t wait.
“Likewise, I’m Dick Grayson.”
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junglewrites · 5 years ago
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The Ruins - Book Review
"The best horror novel of the new century,” Stephen King said of this book. 
“A smart, clean-burning horror machine,” said The New York Times.
It’s hard to live up to that sort of acclaim, I think. For me, Scott Smith’s The Ruins did not. There will be spoilers, if they can be called that for a book that was released over ten years ago.
Immediately after I finish a book, I jot down a few notes and save it as a draft for myself, to aid me in making the points I want to make whenever I wind up writing the review. Because I find the notes for this particular story to be rather amusing, I’ll just post them as is, and then elaborate:
boob obsession
the Greek/the German
bad female characters
boring characters
"equal to" obsession
doesn't follow its own logic with what materials are eaten
no character arcs or development
"Nazi"
Henrich is not a German name
penis-obsessed women - "for comfort"
But before getting to the elaboration, I’ll talk of how the book came into my possession. As always, I am trawling free book bins wherever they appear. I pick up anything I recognize the name of, and almost anything that isn’t an overtly religious text. I found The Ruins in one such bin. I had seen the movie many years ago, and although I remembered the twist of the movie I decided to give the book a shot between some of the nonfiction and heavy-hearted books I’ve been reading. It served the intended purpose of letting my brain relax and unwind, and I think this book was important to read as an aspiring writer, because it shows you all the ways in which one should not write.
In The Anatomy of a Story by John Truby, he says one of the most important things about a story is to always make the main character the most interesting one. If someone else is more interesting than the intended main character, make the story about them.
The thing you absolutely should not do, upon realizing that your main character is not all that interesting, is introduce three other main characters who are also not interesting. You cannot hide how boring a character(s) is by increasing the amount of POVs the story has.
While I found the main characters themselves to be very flat, perhaps the most boring thing about them is that none of them really have a character arc. They all have massive character flaws, for certain, but these flaws didn’t do much to contribute to the demise of the characters.
This could maybe be forgiven if we were made to feel any connection with the characters, but I don’t feel the author managed to achieve that here. He is an older male writing about younger people in their very early 20s, and it feels as though he’s forgotten what it’s like to be a part of that age group. His view of women, how the male characters see the women, and also how women see themselves, is also warped.
The women characters are described by turns as being vapid, complainers, and unable to act under pressure without freezing or being guided to action by one of the male characters. This is both the way the author describes the women, but confusingly how the women describe themselves. The women are also made to take the brunt of the guilt for the things that have gone wrong in the story, despite the fact that most of these things were caused by the male characters.
One of our female characters is also comically obsessed with penises. At one point she gives one of the men a hand job to make herself feel better, which seems very out of place given the fact that the following things had happened that same day: (1) they discovered corpses being eaten by plants; (2) one person had their back broken; (3) they are trapped on top of a hill surrounded by murderous locals who will kill them if they try to leave; and (4) everyone has acknowledged that they are likely to be stuck there for at least a few days, with minimal food and water to survive on. I dunno. Were I in her position, I wouldn’t be interested in dishing out hand jobs, and to me this only reinforces the idea that these female characters are really only there for the sake of the males. Their only identities are based on doing what the men say. Even stranger, at another point in the book she has the desire to touch the penis of the man who broke his back, simply because it is exposed. We’re assured there’s no sexual interest behind the thought, she just wants to touch it. It’s nonsensical and contributes nothing to the story.
This sexual obsession branches out to the narrative voice as well though, where male characters look at certain objects or structures and think “boob,” or where we are being constantly reminded that the female characters oh, I don’t know, have breasts. It happened at least once every 50 pages or so, and I always had to put the book down a moment and stare off into space for a few seconds before resuming.
Circling back around to failing to get us to care about the characters, I’ll point out the author’s consistent use of the phrases “the Greek” to refer to Pablo, the man who broke his back, and “the German” to refer to Mathias, the one who gets them in this situation to begin with. I felt that these two characters were the most interesting of the story, and to use distancing language for them 50% of the time makes it both clear that they are not significant and hard to get attached to them. The other characters thinking of them in this way, in my opinion, also just generally makes them kind of shitty people. A person should not be reduced to their nationality, which both Pablo and Mathias were. Pablo spoke only Greek, and no one else in the group spoke Greek. Not including Pablo’s POV in the story, I think, is a wasted opportunity. In fact, Pablo mostly just laid around with his back broken the whole time, the group often not giving him water or food, or even feigning to include him in discussions.
And as someone born in Germany, who has been there many times and has German ancestors on all sides of my family... it was a punch in the gut to have Mathias even jokingly be called a Nazi. Mathias himself was clearly bothered by this, but the way he acted on being bothered by this was simply by being quiet and withdrawing into himself. Granted, I did not spend my formative years growing up in Germany and I do not presently have any German friends, so I cannot say that I do not know any Germans who would react that way. But given the country’s past, and the policies it now has and the way it reacts to even a whiff of Nazi bullshit, and the way I felt when I have been called a Nazi by peers just because I am German, I have a hard time accepting that Mathias would just swallow such a hurtful insult, whether it was intended as a joke or not.
In addition to all the mentions of boobs for no reason in particular, later on in the book the author develops an obsession with using the phrase “equal to.” As in “Jeff was not equal to the task.” He used this phrase so many times that I began to become conscious of each instance of it, and like the mention of boobs I also had to set the book down and stare off into space whenever I encountered this phrase.
This also happened any time the author would consistently describe whatever a character was feeling through body language, and then promptly summarize it by bluntly stating whatever that feeling was. Like yes. Yes, I had gathered that Stacy was afraid because you described the physical reactions to fear. I am intelligent enough to gather that this is what is going on here. You do not need to explicitly state, each and every single time at the end of these descriptions, that Stacy is afraid. 
With how often I had to put it down, it’s amazing I made it through the book at all.
Still with me? I’ve only a few more bones to pick with the story.
This book was accused of being smart, but I think this is only because one of the characters seemed to have a lot of knowledge about survival skills. These skills were almost only ever talked about, however, and rarely acted upon. Instead, most of the time was wasted with being stupid. It is no wonder these characters did not survive, because they all acted like idiots. Even the story structure could not be considered smart, because the conflict of the story is based entirely around the characters intentionally sabotaging their own survival, even when we are walked through the process of the characters explaining how they know better. I think losing the survivalist early on would have added some actual tension to the story, and probably prompted the characters to actually try and survive instead of being told how to and simply opting to not do any of these things.
This book was also meant to be frightening, a story of survival against an impossible foe reminiscent of Dracula. But Dracula is terrifying precisely because he has concrete weaknesses and abilities. It is even in knowing these weaknesses that the characters struggle to exploit them, and that is what creates tension. The villain of this story- plants which consume organic materials, talk, and seemingly think- are not frightening because their rules are ever-changing to suit whatever the story needs, even causing direct contradictions with what was previously stated. The plants supposedly eat all organic material- blood, vomit, clothing, leather, flesh. But the plant doesn’t eat bones, for no reason other than skeletons are scary, I guess. The plant can move really fast, suffocate perfectly healthy people, grab things and pull them around... but it lets Pablo be despite the fact that he’s paralyzed from the waist down and dying of dehydration because......????????????? 
Despite the high sodium content of this review, I actually... have to recommend the book, especially to anyone who wants to write horror. Not because it’s a good book, but because it’s a bad one. Few things are a better teacher than failure in motion.
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koreanpike3-blog · 6 years ago
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Bears vs. Vikings: Notes from a tough 25-20 victory
There is something about Sunday Night games that has every fan on the edge of their respective seats towards the final two minutes of regulation....
Regardless, a stingy defense and Cody Parkey’s bid for redemption balanced out an uneven effort on offense in their return from a 5+ year absence on Sunday Night. They also gained a much firmer grip on the race for the NFC North crown. Plus, this is the type of “signature” win that will make most critics believe in the Bears this season.
First; and foremost, the fans should take a bow for their performance at Soldier Field. They were LOUD from start to end, and surely that electricity was felt in every square inch of that stadium. Well done, Bears fans. I’ll raise a cold one in your honor tonight.
And right on cue, the Bears forced a 3-and-out on the Minnesota Vikings’ first possession of the night. Akiem Hicks is a freakin’ monster.
Also on cue, the Bears score on their first possession of the night, albeit only a field goal. Mitchell Trubisky looked great in their initial march down the field, until he took a sack in the red zone. Jordan Howard was also heavily featured in this first drive. Cody Parkey’s first kick of the night split the middle of the uprights.
Parkey is just having the worst month of his career. After he boots the field goal, he shanks the following kickoff as it flew over the Vikings’ two-yard line. Woof.
“Bend but don’t break,” a saying made famous during Lovie Smith’s career in Chicago, was on full display during the 2nd possession against the Vikings’ offense. Literally, the Bears’ D needed to force a takeaway to keep the scoreboard blank. It almost seemed destined that a big play would be made in the Bears’ own red zone.
And then Khalil Mack delivered. Again. He stripped and recovered his 5th forced fumble of the 2018 season. He came into the night as the first player since 1982 to have 7+ sacks, 4+ forced fumbles, and 1+ interceptions within the first ten weeks of the regular season.
This is where the night started getting rough for Trubisky. And Matt Nagy, for the matter; they appeared to abandon the run while opting to go vertical with the passing game. This drive ended with an interception, where Trubisky tried to thread the needle to Taylor Gabriel in between three different Viking DBs. All three Viking DBs had a significant height advantage on Gabriel, too.
Oh look, that Khalil Mack guy seems pretty good at this football stuff. The entire front seven just whipped the Vikings’ O-Line on all three snaps, with Mack getting the Bears off the field as he hammered Kirk Cousins while the $84 million-per-year quarterback was throwing the ball. Had Bryce Callahan just held onto the ball for two seconds longer, that would have been a pick.
If Trubisky has displayed anything to this point in his career, it’s resilience. After he tossed the interception in their previous series, he teamed up with Jordan Howard — something they should have done in the previous series — to control the clock and score a touchdown. Trubisky and Howard punished the Purple People Eaters on the ground, which set the play-action passing game up nicely.
Anthony Miller has some ridiculously good hands. I initially thought the ball bounced off the turf following a low delivery from Trubisky, yet Miller held on and secured the touchdown. The chemistry between these two players is strong nowadays, as Miller has recorded a receiving touchdown in 3 of the last 4 games.
Oh, boy. A two-point conversion already? Most fans didn’t like that call, as it appeared to be a bit too aggressive for that situation. Me....to hell with it. The days of bubble wrapped offense under John Fox are loooooong over, my frents.
If I were to tell you that Kirk Cousins is earning a fully guaranteed $84 million per year, after watching this series, I’d expect a few weird faces. He continued to crumble under pressure in this series as he failed to connect with Adam Thielen on two separate tries.
It’s nice to see this Bears offense when Jordan Howard is given more than one touch per series. It would also be nice if Nagy could just stop getting cute in critical moments. After Howard trucks for some solid gains, the offense started going horizontal. Against one of the fastest flowing defenses in the league. Not a good idea.
Cody Parkey hit his 2nd field goal just barely inside the left upright. All this while the NBC broadcasting crew was obsessed with the “doink” sound effect trademarked by John Madden. Idk who was happier to see Parkey sink his 2nd kick; the Bears’ coaching staff, or Al Michaels.
Adam Thielen and Stefon Diggs went from having a combined 0 catches in the first 29:10 minutes of the game, to making all the catches on this last minute effort to score some points heading into half time.
That was until Leonard Floyd forced Kirk Cousins to toss an arm punt straight to Adrian Amos. Amos now has a career high in interceptions (2) within a season. And that ensured the Vikings would be blanked on the scoreboard heading into the 3rd quarter.
You know, it would be splendid if the Bears’ offense could stop sleepwalking in the 3rd quarter. Despite Tarik Cohen having a nifty 21-yard gain on 2nd and 21, the gameplan just didn’t appear to make sense as the Vikings’ defense stiffened up big time.
Luckily for the Bears, there’s more than one monster on their defense. His name is Akiem Hicks, in case the rest of the NFL hasn’t figured this out yet. He recorded another tackle for loss, and Leonard Floyd joined in on the fun with a TFL of his own.
TRUBISKY NO! That’s all I’ll say on this series of which resulted in his 2nd interception of the night; or should we say, arm punt. It also gave the Vikings excellent field position to begin a comeback.
MACK YES! Just as Thielen and Diggs are heating up in the receiving game, Khalil Mack took Cousins down for his 8th sack of the year. That became too much for the Vikes’ offense to overcome as they settled for a field goal.
This is where I started saying “oh s—-.” Granted, this forced fumble was a result of outstanding hustle from the Vikings’ defense. And I respect how hard Cohen fights on every tout. Still, it’s not a bad thing to just go down and secure the ball after contact is made. Be smart and survive to live another down. Instead, the Vikes are once again gifted with a turnover deep in the Bears’ territory.
AKIEM HICKS YES! Seriously; though, how did the New England Patriots and New Orleans Saints miss on this guy? He took Cousins down for a huge sack on 3rd-and-2 that forced Minnesota to settle for another field goal.
At least the Bears chewed up some clock on the ensuing possession. This was a “big boy” moment for Trubisky and the Bears’ young offense, and they missed on a chance to effectively end the game.
EDDIE JACKSON OMG!!! The budding star at safety made a Mike Brown-esque pick six on a poorly thrown ball from Cousins. He overthrew Laquon Treadwell badly, and instead of simply backing away from the play, Jackson attacked the ball and returned it for the back-breaking touchdown.
Here we go: two D-linemen in on the Bears’ 2nd 2-point conversion of the night. Roy Robertson-Harris and Akiem Hicks got their opportunity to play offense in yet another package featuring members of Vic Fangio’s crew. Best of all Akiem Hicks lined up in the backfield as a tailback, in a T-formation, and motioned out wide as a slot receiver.
So because for the sake of common sense, Trubisky lobbed a ball to Adam Shaheen after the 6’7” tight end received a single manned look in coverage. Welcome back, Shaheen.
I would have absolutely lost my mind had the ball gone to Hicks....and I actually wanted that to happen, too. Here’s to hoping that’ll come against the Green Bay Packers.
Another thing that would be nice — the theme of tonight’s thread — is if Vic Fangio could discontinue the soft prevent look in the fourth quarter. Not only does Cousins finally get a touchdown on the board following an impressive drive, but a BS call on Hicks gave them two attempts at a two-point conversion. They, naturally, succeeded on their second attempt.
I swear, Matt Nagy planned on getting Cody Parkey his chance at redemption tonight. Even though the previous two touchdowns resulted in consecutive two-point conversions, after Parkey made his first field goal. Nevertheless, the Bears controlled the clock and forced Minnesota to burn out some of their timeouts. And when called upon, Trubisky made a few decent plays, while drawing an unnecessary roughness from Harrison Smith.
The moment every Chicagoan was waiting for — both in fear and in anticipation — Parkey’s chance to drive the final nail in the Vikings’ coffin. He delivered, beautifully mind you, on a 48-yard field goal that kept the Bears ahead by two scores. Kudos to Parkey for gutting out what was a gruesome week of memes, angered fans, and calls for him to be cut; only to deliver the knockout punch against such a tough opponent.
Barring anything stupid, any touchdown drive this late in the game would be considered “garbage time points.” Sure, Cousins got Diggs and fantasy owners a touchdown to make the score a bit closer. Of course, all it would take is #BearsSpecialTeams to manifest itself again in the obvious onside kick attempt.
Nope. Not happening. Benny Cunningham made a smart play to snatch the ball immediately after Dan Bailey kicked it. And that wrapped up the game.
In all, Mitchell Trubisky completed 20 of 31 passes for 165 yards, a touchdown, and two picks. His performance wasn’t pretty; rather, he did just enough against a top five defense to control the clock and keep Cousins and Co. off the field. The ability to extend drives with his legs is reminiscent of Aaron Rodgers. One could say this is his first true win against a tough opponent.
For those who follow me on Twitter, you all have likely seen how adamant I am when it comes to feeding Howard the ball. Tonight is a great example of that; 80% of the time Howard carried the ball inside, he’d pick up 5+ yards. I, still, can’t see why it’s a good idea to not give him more touches.
After being shut out last week, Taylor Gabriel led all Bears receivers in receptions and receiving yards. I can get used to this whole “spreading the wealth” concept in the passing game.
I’m sure coaches from all levels would agree with the following statement: the Bears’ defense is the best in the league when one considers a “whole team” concept. From Akiem Hicks recording 5(!) tackles for loss, to Eddie Jackson and Adrian Amos recording a pick each, to Khalil Mack feasting on multiple plays. This defense is 1) stacked from top to bottom and 2) built to last for a long time.
The Chicago Bears (7-3), currently winners of 4 straight games, have a short week with a game on Thanksgiving Day being hosted by the Detroit Lions (4-6) this coming Thursday afternoon. They will then be at the New York Giants (3-7) and at home versus the Los Angeles Rams (9-1) the following week.
It feels good to finally be in a healthy position for clinching a spot in the playoffs.
Source: https://www.windycitygridiron.com/2018/11/19/18102253/chicago-bears-vs-minnesota-vikings-notes-from-a-tough-25-20-victory-akiem-hicks-cody-parkey-nfl-2018
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albinzadamski · 7 years ago
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How the Right Colours Can Transform Your Homes Interior
When it comes to colours and design, most of us will usually just pick what “feels right” or “looks good” for our interior. Of course, we are entitled to just go by gut because it is, after all, our living space, so it’s important to be happy and comfortable in it. However, many people may not realize that the colours we choose can have different effects on our rooms, and on our mind. Some colours can give the illusion of a room having more or less space than it actually does, whereas some colours can make us feel more relaxed or maybe even hungry! Therefore it’s worth considering what effect the colour schemes of the rooms in your living space are having on you, because they may perhaps be making things more difficult! Read on to find what some of the more mainstream colours and shades in the design world can offer to your interior, as well as some tips on how to pick the right colours for you.
Reds, Oranges and Yellows
These colours are known have a stimulating effect because they are very high-energy. Therefore they’re better suited to more lively and energetic areas like the kitchen/dining room as well as the living room, or any other room that sees the most footfall in the form or family or friends. The colours themselves are lively so can have the effect of livening up those who are exposed to it due to their vibrancy.
Red
Red, in particular, is seen as the most powerful colour in terms of the effect it can have on people. Some of its startling effects include its ability to increase metabolism as well as respiration rate. In fact, red has also been known to raise blood pressure! It’s certainly one of, if not the, most bold and eye-catching colours to be found in nature. A harsher shade of red can sometimes be seen as a warning or a threat – and so could potentially keep you a little bit on edge – so it may be wise to opt for a warmer hue that is not quite so garish. Whilst red can be a very stimulating colour, you need to be very careful with when and where you use it – it can also increase appetite so perhaps use it frequently in kitchens, but more sparingly in bedrooms! Overall, the colour red is associated with love, romance, warmth and energy – and the shade you choose will determine whether the effect is immense or more subtle.
Orange
Orange is made from red and yellow, and therefore has some of the same properties discussed before – namely, that it is also stimulating for the mind as well as the stomach! It has connotations of food, warmth and fun. Orange is seen as light and tropical, that’s why it’s often used in tropical scenes or in artwork and decoration for youngsters because it can add a light and entertaining vibe to a room. A deeper orange is reminiscent of the autumn time, particularly the withered leaves that descend from the branches and pile up on the floor. On the whole, the colour orange radiates warmth, energy and fun.
Yellow
Yellow is also cheery and fun like its friends. It is most definitely a colour that will turn heads and attract attention, and therefore it’s no surprise that school buses and taxis are often this colour. Using yellow within your home can cultivate a fun and vibrant mood due to its sheer brightness – however, be careful not to go for something too vivid in too many places as it could prove to be a bit of an eyesore. A pale yellow should be enough if you want to bring a bit of vibrancy and sunshine into your living room. Yellow is great for attracting attention to certain aspects of your room – your décor or perhaps an accent wall or statement piece.
Pink
Pink is good if you want more a “fresh” feel to your room or living space. It is a light and airy colour that isn’t at risk of being too overbearing – unless you are heavy-handed with some of the bolder shades like hot pink. Pink has soothing and calming psychological effects and can bring something tasty to a room. The colour is largely associated with romance, love and gentleness.
Blues, Greens & Purples
This family of colours is relaxing and can bring about a peaceful and tranquil atmosphere. For this reason, they often feature within bedrooms and bathrooms, as these are traditionally places where we wind down, perhaps in our bed or in a bath.
Blue
Blue is a very calming colour and can be used to “cool” a room – in the sense that it can give the illusion that a room is colder than it is – making it a great addition to a space that is prone to becoming very warm. Blue is also useful for study spaces or places of relaxation because it helps to soothe us and therefore makes it easier to clear our minds and focus upon whatever we wish to focus upon. It is also said to decrease appetite, especially if dishes or kitchen walls are painted blue. The colour blue exerts serenity and peace and has even been known to lower blood pressure, as opposed to red raising it.
Green
Green is also very calming and can create a serene atmosphere within your home. It is advised to use green, in the same manner, you would use blue within your homes, for they have very similar psychological effects. Green works well when paired with other colours within your interior, and is a colour that radiates harmony and serenity, and keeps us in touch with nature.
Purple
Purple reeks of royalty and sophistication so are perfect if you want that regal and powerful feel to your room. A bluish purple is more serene whereas a deeper or redder purple is more eye-catching, so pick according to the kind of mood you are going for.
White, Black, Grey & Brown
Neutral colours blend well with almost anything. They’re good for playing it safe, or if you’re not sure what colour scheme you want to go to with your home.
White
White is a neutral colour which gives off an air of cleanliness and spaciousness, and it can often be very refreshing. White can also give a sacred, “pure” feel to a room or something like a greenhouse or your personal sanctuary. When walls and furniture and even the floor are white it creates the illusion of more space within the room, as well as providing adding a bit of vigour and light to the room. White also works fantastically with its neutral counterparts, which is handy if you are hesitant to use it on its own or make it the dominant colour in your living space. It also packs a punch when used sparingly, for example, to highlight a certain window or piece of art hung on the wall.
Grey
Grey is also neutral yet very elegant. Depending on how you use it, its subtlety can be pleasant, and a breath of fresh air in a room. However, grey is also susceptible to making a room look rather drab and old, so be sure not to overdo it or it may have an adverse effect on your interior.
Brown
Brown is a recurring colour in nature – we see it in the earth, in trees and even in volcanoes. This is likely why brown is seen as an “earthy” colour, because of its connection to the natural world. Brown can help us to feel safe and grounded, and thereby make us more comfortable in our homes. Brown walls and furniture are great for adding an extra dimension, some extra depth, to any room, and make it more inviting and comfortable. The colour brown can create a rustic and homely effect within your living room, making it a soothing place to sit and relax with family. Brown gives off vibes of ease, friendliness and comfort.
Black
Black is known to be a very sophisticated and chic colour and can add this effect to any interior. If you get the balance right, it can transform a room from bleary to bold yet elegant. Black is an especially strong colour when paired with lighter tones, like a white wall or photo frame. Just as white is good for directing the eye to certain spots in a room, so is black. With black, it really can be “less is more”, especially because it is seen as a more sombre colour and a colour of mourning. Overdoing the use of black will likely not do much good for the aesthetic of the room.
Small Spaces and Big Bedrooms
Taking into account the size of a room is imperative when you are thinking about choosing colours. If your space is small, the colours on the warmer end of the spectrum could make a space feel even more cramped. Similarly, an already large space will feel larger should you opt for the cooler blues and greens. You may think making a large room feel even larger is an added bonus, but oftentimes if a space is too big it can be a struggle to make it feel comfortable and homely, as large areas of it can feel bare and neglected. If you want to squeeze every last inch out of a smaller space, it would be worth ensuring the walls are a lighter hue, as lighter colours give the illusion of more space. Think cool pastels and neutral colours like white and beige if you want to “open up” a room. A room can also have the effect of seeming wider if the furniture matches the walls, or is at least of a similar hue because the colours amalgamate and give the impression that the room is light and airy.
Another tip is to try and make sure your ceiling is a light colour. It is advisable to make sure a room’s colour gradient (from bottom to top) goes darker to lighter, as a dark ceiling is unsightly in most settings. A light ceiling, on the other hand, can give the impression of the ceiling being higher than it actually is, so is ideal for lower ceilings that can sometimes feel a bit foreboding. As a general rule, try and make sure your ceiling has the lightest hue in the room. When it comes to a wall, a bright colour is good for diverting attention to a certain wall, perhaps an accent wall, but bright and bold colours can be overkill if used on all the walls – the balance can often be difficult to achieve, so think carefully before slathering the walls in hot pink!
Warm, Cool and Some Nifty Rules
Warm colours are more effective if you are trying to cultivate an atmosphere of togetherness and well…warmth! However, be mindful of the fact that even if you use a warm colour, a warm colour that is also bright can negate the effect you’re going for. Be sure to use more subdued hues if you don’t want to room to seem too busy and energetic. Cool colours are fresher, as well as soothing. Deeper shades of cool colours can create an air of serenity, which is especially useful for bedrooms. Green, in particular, can help us feel safe and more in touch with nature because it can be found so frequently in the natural world. Green, however, is not very flattering to our skin, because green is poor at reflecting light. It may be worth keeping this in mind when considering which spaces of yours will feature green heavily and which ones won’t.
Apart from the warm and cool colours, you have the neutrals. These are good if this is your first foray into interior design, as they are safe colours that mesh well with most hues, making it harder to go wrong with them. Due to their versatility, they can adapt well to any changes in colour scheme or general theme.
Technical Tips
If you want to go with science rather than gut feeling, it would do you well to check out a colour wheel. It is a trusted method of colour matching and selection, used by many designers and artists. It can be found easily online, with a simple Google Images search for “colour wheel”, and this nifty circle will let you know which colours are a good contrast and couple. Colours that are next to each other on the wheel are known as “analogous colours”, whilst two colours directly opposite each other are called “complementary colours”. Using a few analogous colours can lead to a cohesive, pleasing colour scheme in your home, and complementary colours are also a good match because though they contrast they balance each other pleasantly. If you want to try and be a bit more daring try and incorporate a couple of complementary colours into a room to bring a pop of colour. You could use the pairing of blues and greens for the walls, for example, to create something very soothing and pleasant. A quick glance at the colour wheel shows us that blue is opposite orange, so some décor or a table that is of an orange hue will greatly complement your design.
Sticking with the technical theme, there is another handy piece of colour scheme advice commonly used in the interior design world, and it goes by the name of the “60-30-10 Rule”. This rule advises that 60 percent of a room’s colour should consist of a dominant colour, 30 percent a different colour, and the final 10 percent should be an accent colour. This tried and method has proven successful when it comes to balancing colours in a room without it all seeming like way too much, or not enough.
Sometimes we can go overboard with brighter, bolder hues, which can make as space seem very crowded and busy. Other times we go a bit too safe and stick only to neutral colours, which can leave a room feeling somewhat tired and underwhelming. The dominant hue should be a neutral, or softer colour so as to ensure that the room is not too overwhelming to the eye. The secondary colour is better off being a bolder hue, but keep in mind that this 30 percent mustn’t be too garish either. You can fulfil any desire for a bold and brilliant colour in the final 10 percent so that it complements the neutrals rather than overwhelms them. This 10 percent can consist of furniture, wall décor, or maybe just a solitary wall in your colour of choice. This accent colour is what will add the vibrancy and freshness to the room, and keep it exciting. You can find this 60-30-10 rule in many areas of design, from painting to fashion design.
So there you have it, these were some tips and tricks when it comes to picking the right colour scheme for your interior. Remember, you don’t have to commit to any colour straight away, start off the neutrals and take it from there, or use a small sample of paints to visualize a room that could potentially be a winner.
from Otomo - Blog https://www.otomo.co.uk/blogs/news/how-the-right-colours-can-transform-your-homes-interior from Otomo https://otomouk.tumblr.com/post/169707423658
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