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sigmoon · 8 months

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𓇢𓆸 Wildflowers under the summer rain

Chapter three: Lily Of The Valley

Pairing: Fyodor Dostoyevsky x reader

cw: PTSD flashbacks (sexual abuse), mentions of depression, a panic attack, y/n is not doing well, but is back at girlbossing at the end of the chapter. However, if descriptions of PTSD symptoms and panic attacks make you feel uncomfortable or trigger you, please skip this chapter.

Lying on the uncomfortably cool floor of the small room Fyodor gave you as your own, you focused on the feeling of your back against the hard concrete and the goosebumps that spread across your skin. On days like this, when you felt like gravity was weighing down on your body much heavier than usual, it was easier to just submit to the feeling and lie down on the floor in a starfish position, your limbs sprawled out as you stared holes into the ceiling. Inhaling deeply and releasing your breath in a shaky exhale, you closed your eyes and fought the urge to do what you felt like doing the most right now.

But then again, you were far too weak and heavy to even bother to get up from the floor, walk towards the drawer next to your bed, and take out the small handgun that Fyodor had insisted you’d carry with you. “Just in case of emergencies,” he'd explained. “Besides, take it as a sign of my trust.”

You had only left your room once today, for a brief trip to the bathroom and back, sending some nasty glares toward your new colleagues, the whole insufferable bunch.

You already felt like going right back to sleep after waking up with the familiar heavy weight on your chest this morning, and after your stroll through the headquarters, which took longer than planned, since you couldn't find the bathroom in this stupid, intricate tunnel system, you went right back into your room and locked the door behind you before you lay down on the floor. You didn’t know how many hours had passed since then, as you remained on the cold surface and didn’t bother to stand up even once. Was it yesterday's conversation that weighed down on you? Or still the aftermath of the events of the past few months haunting you like ghosts of the past? You had many of those, after all, and they were all painfully loyal, paying you regular visits that you never asked for. Whatever it was, you weren't able to think a single clear thought, anyway.

Not when you felt him on you again. Those vile hands, no, claws, caressing your skin and leaving it burning like someone poured acid on it. The firm embrace around your torso squeezed you so tightly against a repulsive body that you could swear you heard your ribcage crunch and crack, and the hot, humid breath against your neck, heavy and rapid. And that smell, a mix of cheap aftershave and cigarettes, that made you gag when you even thought about it, filled your nostrils and took your breath; like the sensation of inhaling some poisonous gas. You could feel yourself stiffening up, wondering for how long you haven’t inhaled or exhaled, holding it until you felt dizzy before starting to breathe again, in short, rapid gasps. You felt like a fish on land, eyes wide and full of panic, your mouth half agape, fighting for some oxygen. You felt that old burning sensation between your thighs again, one that made you feel disgusted by your own body, vulnerable, wanting to tie your legs together with a rope and never open them again. You felt dizzy and the lamp on your bedroom ceiling was spinning in circles, hypnotizing you and pulling you even deeper into whatever it was that you spiraled into once again. Was your entire room spinning? Or did your eyeballs leave your skull, bouncing through your room like ping-pong balls? Your body felt so restless that you felt like you had to jump up from the floor and climb up your walls, but the thought alone, of sitting up straight, was enough to make you feel so weak that even breathing was exhausting.

You traced a few shaky fingers over your chest, aching to sink your fingertips into your flesh, carve your ribcage open, and tear out whatever rotten stuff was buried deep inside you and caused you to drown in sorrow day and night.

You only snapped out of your trance when, with a particularly sharp inhale, you choked on a drop of your saliva and abruptly sat up, coughing and gasping for air. Trembling, you cleared your throat a last time and then brought a hand to your collar, tugging on it in a desperate attempt to make the agonizing tightness in your throat go away, a feeling of a hand around it, slowly squeezing tighter and tighter, but never hard enough to grant you the final relief that the lack of oxygen would bring you.

You felt cold and weak and realized that you haven’t eaten or had any water for hours. With wobbly legs, you stood up, tightly grasping the edge of your desk and slowly breathing in and out, when Fyodor's words from yesterday rang in your ears. He was right. You had the power to do what countless other people, innocent victims of god knows what will never be able to do; make the world a little more just. Delivering appropriate punishments to those who deserve it, so the poor souls of their victims can finally find rest. And here you were again, wallowing in self-pity and squirming on your bedroom floor like a damsel in distress, praying for someone to come and save you from your demons. As much as Fyodor's lecturing angered you, you knew very well that indeed nobody was going to come and save you. There was no helping hand in sight, no white knight, nothing at all. Not even Fyodor was there to help you. Deep down you knew that your most loyal companions were the demons that lived inside you like parasites, sinking their teeth and claws into your heart. Trying to get rid of them was a futile attempt, you knew that by now. The only option you really had, was befriending the demons and becoming one of them, finding someone else they could maul, someone like him, who deserved to be shredded to pieces. As long as they had a desperate soul to torment, the demons didn't care who it was. You or anybody else, it didn't matter to them. And this was your chance. If using your ability to break others who deserved it provided you and other victims with a bit of peace and satisfaction, you were willing to do so. Regardless if it were people that Fyodor chose, and if he was only using your ability for his own benefit at the end of the day.

Every rational thought was drowning in bloodlust, with no trace of morality left when your mind was running and your teeth were grinding. "Fuck it," you murmured to yourself and walked towards the door. Before leaving your room, you looked into your mirror and studied your own face. Puffy and swollen from crying, flushed, and an expression of dark determination contorting your features into a grimace that barely looked like a familiar face to you anymore. Your eyes seemed dull and empty, but in your irises swirled the essence of unhappiness and a small spark of hesitance and doubt whether you were making the right choice. But you quickly blinked it away, straightened your back, and stepped out of your room.

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Hio’s note: Please remember that everyone experiences PTSD differently and that what I write is fictional and written through my lens and not everyone will relate to it or feel like it's "accurate". This chapter and the entire series are a piece of fiction, not a description of reality or actions/choices/behaviors I think are good or healthy. I don’t mean to romanticize the dark contents I write in any way. The reader's character is an OC, a character I created, and not an example of healthy coping or good life choices. Please stay safe and reach out for support if you need to.

I hope you liked the chapter regardless and look forward to the next!

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skayafair · 5 months

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Scared Vi

The thing I was finally able to put into a thought and into words after staring at gifs for 2 hours straight: throughout all the post-timeskip Arcane Vi is fucking scared of everything that's going on around her. AND she's on the brink of losing it pretty often. I need to rewatch (no idea when I'll be brave enough to ride this rollercoaster again) but I didn't notice it while watching, because, WELL, there was already TOO MUCH to take in, so some more subtle details escaped me. I've caught that Vi is very vulnerable in her honesty, openness and straightforwardness, but that wasn't all to it, and it bothered me! Because all three don't ooze the vulnerability 24/7 and that's what Vi looks like to me nearly all the time!

So I was wondering.

And here's the answer. She's been suddenly released out of her cell into the world that is now completely unknown to her. Yes the air of freedom is great, and she enjoys it, but at the same time there's always this frightened undertone.

She's constantly on the edge.

Not in the least because when things that used to be familiar, like your home, ones you used to know like the back of your hand, change but not completely, it's the worst trap of all, the most confusing and anxiety inducing. How much of what you remember is still the same? How much changed? Can you trust its exterior even if it looks the same? Or would it betray you in the worst possible moment? How do new things work? How do they work WITH the old things? I've experienced it once coming back to my former workplace that changed quite a lot but no one bothered to fill me in so I was piecing together the information for a YEAR. And I might not be the brightest but I'm not dumb either. I'm pretty good with systems. It was BAD.

So I can't imagine how much worse and disoriented Vi must have felt. And Caitlyn took her out of jail to SHOW HER AROUND. Having no idea how the world Vi used to know so well changed just in several years. So she's on a look out all the time. And her eyes, her expression betrays her put up exterior of confidence and maybe even arrogance, leaking this anxiety and straight up fear almost all the time.

She looks like a frightened, lost little girl. And when she doesn't, she looks like a desperate teenage girl who tries to punch her way out of every problem because she's backed into a corner and that's the only way she knows, even if it never helps. (No seriously, the only time it helped was against Silco's thugs and EVEN THEN they weren't completely dealt with and kept causing problems straight up to the bridge fighting scene. Vi's fists kept her alive and safer but they never SOLVED anything.)

I think the way she looks just SCREAMS fear and anxiety when she and Powder/Jinx fight back to back after the torch scene. Jinx looks like she's completely in her element, she knows these guys, she's been in situations like this time after time. It's habitual. She's very confident and almost careless there, moves freely, she knows what she's doing. She might even enjoy it. Vi, on the opposite... Vi, who's all about loose body language, free movement and such - nearly curls up into a ball against Jinx's back, keeping her fists and elbows close to herself. Vi NEVER looked like this again, I think. I... believe she was the most thrown off kilter back then. She finally found her most treasured and the only remaining piece of her past - her sister, and sure, lil Powpow changed, she had to survive, but she's still Vi's little sister!

Right?..

Wrong. Powder-Jinx back then is the quintessence of the trap Zaun is to Vi now: familiar pieces are all there, they're recognizable even if a bit changed, but you never know what lurks under the surface.

And gods does Jinx just demolish every last bit of the ground Vi was standing on. It's not even when Jinx goes full on unhinged, it's when she simply starts blasting bullets all around. When she fights and she's confident in what she does. Vi doesn't know this girl. Vi doesn't know this gang flying around. I bet she doesn't even know this TECHNOLOGY because the world made a whole leap technologically while she was stuck in her cell isolated from pretty much everything. It's like a literal time skip for her. And she doesn't know what to trust, so she can't trust anything no matter how much she wants to. And she HAS to want it, because she looked genuinely hopeful fresh out of Stillwater. Before she saw what her home turned into. Silco really did bring the monster out of it, not just himself or Jinx or shimmer junkies. The whole city. So Vi looks small, and frightened, and I think she's even panicking back in that scene.

She's ready to snap at any moment.

It's very interesting to me, because she looks tough and very mentally healthy on the surface but boooy are there mountains hidden underneath.

Vi does snap, actually. Several times. Her voice cracks as she's trying to convince Ekko she's THE Vi, same she used to be. She charges at Sevika TWICE. I think second time was much worse btw. She literally downs a drink IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT - I don't think it was out of mental stability. And, well, the cry in the end. She won, and it helped nothing again. Even her mental state. Another fragile moment with Vi is the way she looks around her sister. Vi is confident and action-charged by nature, she's energetic and isn't shy to take up space. So she never looks small... except when she's around Jinx. She's drowning in guilt, and this guilt is spilling out.

Interestingly enough, scenes when Vi DOESN'T have this scared/guilty/anxious/desperate look is around Cait. She's either playful, or actually confident, or even RELAXED. Which is... wow, all things considered. Part of it is a put up facade, of course, but only in the beginning. The ship sails itself huh...

A lot of people pointed out Caitlyn is about future in Vi's life centered around the past, but I think what's more important is that Cait is about the present. Plus, she's a familiar - an enforcer, a topside - turned unfamiliar in a GOOD way.

Gods once again I'm baffled at the level Arcane is thought through. These are subtle, small details, expressions that aren't exposed or accentuated like many other ones. They are underlying, but once you notice them it's a whole new tapestry unfolding right before your eyes.

As you can see, I'm very normal about Arcane and Vi in particular, yup, totally cool 😌👌✨

#yes I've watched Arcane just like a week ago what of it #sorry if it's been mentioned multiple times by now #I only watched several essays on YT and none talked about this #so #I'm kinda hyperfixated on Vi as you can probably see #this insane amount of work the creative team put into the characters #gods I'm so glad I can witness this masterpiece #arcane #vi arcane #jinx arcane #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane

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minhavn · 2 years

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What about a four year age difference smut between beomgyu x f reader where the f reader is younger

warning : age gap (gyu is in his late 20 & reader is mid 20), dubcon, car sex, drunk sex, size kink, implied dom/sub dynamic, implied squirting, pet names (little one, little girl) & nawt proofread

The first time you met Beomgyu was when you were having an internship in a high profile company under his supervision as one of team leaders in the division you were signed up for.

There wasn't much interaction between the two of you because Beomgyu always found his way to stay professional, both as your supervisor and team leader—making sure you wouldn't make a mistake or attracting any drama due to your lack of experience in real life.

Unfortunately, your internship only lasted for three months only—long enough to make some acquaintances but a bit too short to make you realised about the feeling that you harboured to the handsome, young team leader.

Fast forward to the next few years, you found yourself enamoured to the same man who held the new manager position now. Still finding him attractive despite being in his late twenties, looking even more mature than the last time you saw him.

As an assistant manager from another department, you couldn't help but feel disappointed whenever you missed your chance to see him—especially when the two of you could only meet because of business, having no time to know each other more on a personal level.

But, it seemed like the Heavens heard your prayers because three departments, including yours and his, were going to have a drink night at the bar few buildings away from the company, celebrating a successful deal or something like that.

Which led you to this position, getting sandwiched between your tipsy manager and a couple of drunk colleagues—not looking safe no matter how many times you looked at them.

Feeling a small tap on your shoulder, you whipped your head and swore that your spirit almost left your body because Beomgyu was holding out a glass of soju beer for you, smile looking sincere as always. "Here, no need to be so uptight over this," he coaxed as you took the glass from his grasp, cursing at yourself for being a lightweight and getting tipsy after few sips, head resting against the older man's shoulder comfortably.

Squishing your face between his warm hand, you weren't sure if your face was red from the embarassment or the alcohol—but, at least, it was enough to give you some courage to lean into his touch, flashing him the sweet smile you always showed him ever since you were an intern.

Beomgyu, who realised the alcohol in your system was already getting too much, told the rest of the employee that he would take you out to get some air—helping you to walk so that you wouldn't stumble on the ground.

Sitting you down on the nearest bench he could find, he took off his coat before draped it over your small figure, feeling his heart skipped a beat at your current look—hair slightly messy, cheeks flushed and eyes look glassy; reminding him of a porcelain doll people usually displayed.

Raising your head slightly to see his face, you pulled the coat closer to your frame and took a small whiff of the familiar cologne he always wore—washing you with a sudden feeling of comfort and security.

"I'll drive you home—"

"Am I not good enough?" You pouted, peeking through your lashes before tugging his sleeve gently; making him widened his eyes in surprise before brushing it off and helping you to get into his car.

Carefully, he buckled your belt and made sure he didn't make you uncomfortable before getting to the driver seat; praying to God that his sanity wouldn't leave him alone when you were so close to him, looking all pretty and vulnerable.

"Manager," your voice called for him, sounding more attractive than usual and hell, you always looked so attractive to him but tonight was where his limit got tested.

With your hand on his thigh, Beomgyu's sanity had snapped before he shot you a look; telling you to take off the coat and sit down on the backseat, waiting for him before he took off his tie and unbuttoned his shirt—pushing you down under him.

"I swear to God you always know how to get me acting up, little one," he let out a shaky breath, hand sliding under your miniskirt before pushing them up to your waist and yanking your panties and stockings down, ignoring the ripped sound they made before tossing them away. "Acting coy and sweet when you're seducing me ever since you came to here as an intern," he pulled you to sit down on his thigh, clit making a contact with the soft material of his trousers and the filthy squelching sound it made whenever your bare cunny made a contact with his thigh didn't help either—in fact, they made Beomgyu got more aroused as you threw your head to the back, letting out a long, incoherent whine before staining his expensive pants with your cum.

Beomgyu loved you, that's a fact that wouldn't change, ever. But, you were way too young for him and could always find someone who's more desirable and younger than him. "Manager, more, please," you rutted your hips against his knee, trying to chase another high with tears streaming down your cheeks; making Beomgyu cooed to you sweetly, wiping away those stray tears before unzipping his pants and pushing his length inside you—clenching around them involuntarily whenever your gummy walls made a contact with his thick, veiny girth.

Resting both of your hands on his shoulders, Beomgyu realised how small you were; hands covering your entire ass as you were barely on eye level with him, despite being on top of him. "Little girl is having trouble down there, hmm?" He gave you a shallow thrust, trying to taste the water and getting lost inside your eyes—car filled up with loud squelching sound, your wanton moans and pleads to let you cum as his thick cock bullying your cervix mercilessly; thick rope of hot cum filling up your womb as a white ring covered his whole length, feeling satisfied that he was able to make you cum with ease, whispering a small 'one more time, little one, okay?' from time to time just so that he could knock you out and watch both of your cums dripping down to the backseat, legs spread out wide for him to stare at before fucking you for one last time with his fingers, covering them with your juice.

"Once again, for me, please, little girl."

#yijin — hard hour #yijin — dark contents #txt smut #beomgyu smut #tw.dubcon #tw.size kink #tw.age gap

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call-me-copycat · 1 year

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Escaping The Night (Part 5)

Welcome! - Introduction and request rules (important if you want me to write for you or you want to know who I am)

▶ Characters: Shinso x Fem Reader + Father/Mentor Aizawa (platonic)

▶ Genre: Angst to Fluff + Slow Burn

▶ Summary: Y/N is taken to the U.A for the first time by Aizawa, and on the ride there both parties try to unravel all the layers that the other has built up in order to try to understand another without knowing the other is trying to do the same.

▶ Warnings:

- Another slow chapter that mainly involves thinking about the other ( I pinky promise I have the whole plot planned out! It'll get better!

- Mention of poverty, mental illness, and behavioral issues when Aizawa is thinking about former students (for a split second)

- Once again, Shinso isn't in this chapter, but he will be soon!

- I had to make up a character for this chapter and he might return, sorry if you don't like that :(

▶ Word Count: 3630 (I try to aim for 3k to 5k since anymore will lag my phone)

➜ [Part 1]

➜ [Part 2]

➜ [Part 3]

➜ [Part 4]

➤ [This is Part 5]

➜ [Part 6]

➜ [Part 7]

➜ [Part 8]

➜ [Part 9] Coming Soon!

And with that, he gathered his keys and you silently trailed after him out of the door. When he had his back turned you looked down at your wrist.

That quirk canceller and tracker was still there, easily ruining any chance of escape without any real effort.

You scratched at it a bit before following Eraserhead out to his car.

And once more as he did the day before, Eraserhead opened the passenger door for you to get in, to which you did without a word.

The drive was silent just as it had been yesterday, the only thing new being the destination. You quickly realized that you were already falling prey to routine, one of the things you wished to avoid. Although it was small, you knew that falling into a routine could be as bad as it could be good, but either way once you were caught in the stream there was almost no chance of getting out.

However, the sedatives had made their way through and out of your system overnight, and so today you were feeling much more energetic and alert, as opposed to yesterday. You were going to make sure to stay on guard, because at this point you were a leaf being carried down the river of existence. Completely vulnerable, and at the mercy of wherever it carried you.

You decided to not resist being wound down the river, but rather just let it carry you and you'll adjust based on what was presented to you. Because that's all you could do at this point, so why waste energy when it wouldn't even make impact?

Buildings passed by in streaks, all of their colors merging into each other as your tired eyes tried to keep up with them and other passing objects, desperate for some kind of external simulation.

The car was warm, and Eraserhead had the radio on very quietly just to have some background noise. Whenever he thought about it, he realized that even though he always resented loud people and tried to avoid them, he somehow always wound up surrounded by them. He supposed that he must have gotten used to that enough because now he can't stand pure silence for too long, maybe for reading a book, but not for a lengthy amount of time anymore.

Aizawa internally chuckled at the realization, never having thought about it much. Maybe you were impacting him even though you've been in his care for less than a day. He wondered just how much he never thought about these small things, and especially why he was now.

Looking over at you from the side of his eye, Aizawa noticed that you were completely different from the night before. Whereas yesterday you were calmer and weren't as resistant, you were the complete opposite today. You were sitting up in your seat, body full of tension and mind sharp, always ready for attack or unpredictability. He was sure if someone were to crash into the car that very moment you'd be prepared from how focused you were.

And yet, even with a mind that constantly swirled with paranoia that caused your tension, you still were able to radiate an odd sort of elegance. Your posture was perfect, and your eyes were sharp, almost as if they could cut with that glare. It worried yet fascinated Aizawa, as he had never seen a kid like you before.

Aizawa had taught lots of different types of kids over the years he worked as a teacher. Kids that were in poverty, kids that had behavioral and mental issues, kids that were in bad situations with family members or loved ones, and so he began to think that he had saw them all. All sorts of kids and their lives and situations were presented to him, and he was able to help those kids and turn them into mindful, disciplined heroes of the day.

And then you came along.

He was caught entirely off guard, as he had never seen a kid like you before, in fact he had never seen anyone like you before. He was so used to the routine of helping kids with their problems so that they could properly train them to become heroes, but you were already incredibly well trained. And with that, his routine was thrown off balance, because now he needed to dig deeper and uncover the layers that you kept secure in order to find out just how∆ he could help you.

Aizawa was a man of rationality, one who depended on predictability. He wasn't one to think he was perfect like some pros do, he knew he had things he could do better, areas he could round out. But you were just a mystery. In all honesty, he didn't even know where to start, he was just going off of what he could find out about you and what he could help you in. But you kept everything locked up. Hell, he didn't know a single thing about you personally. Now that he thought about it, he wondered if you even knew anything about yourself personally.

Aizawa knew he got himself into something that was going to be tough. He knew that it was foolish to have acted so impulsively despite his lack of knowledge of the person and the situation, but it was as if something pushed him to say those words. He saw a kid in need of help and next thing he knew he was signing the papers to care for you.

It was as if something gripped his heart that day, and when he got the chance to look into your eyes, he saw a bit of himself.

He was snapped out of his thinking when he looked up and realized that he had missed his turn, causing him to mutter a low curse and switch on his blinker to try and take another turn with hopes that he wouldn't have to go all the way back.

You watched the tired pro curiously, as it seemed like more and more puzzle pieces were put in place everytime you saw him, the pieces making a puzzle of recognition. And everytime a piece was connected, you saw a little more of him as a person rather than a suspicious stranger.

However, in each case you thought the puzzle was starting to fill up, you'd realize that it would grow and so more spaces would be made and the already placed pieces would lower in value as their size decreased. This puzzle was one that was always increasing infinitely, one that could never be put together entirely no matter how many pieces you collected and gathered.

The easy pieces were ones that were physical statements, such as 'he was born ___' and 'he is ___ years old'. Ones that don't change, or are easy to keep up with. However, those aren't all of them. Likes and dislikes are an example of ones that are nearly impossible to keep up with entirely. What if one day they think to themselves of their favorite food, 'you know, I don't like this all that much anymore' but still eat it regardless?

Thoughts are always changing, and not even the one that creates them can keep up with them entirely. As more thoughts are created and more are pushed out, a competition is created, and the flow is never solid. Thoughts and ideas flow like water, in and out, all around. Rapidly or slowly, changing with discoveries, ideas, realizations, beliefs, and so many others.

An organized chaos, you like to say.

Sighing, you sat back a little more as you were overwhelming yourself with these types of thoughts. Sometimes you made yourself feel like you were 40 rather than 16.

'You're just an old soul in a young body, nothing wrong with that. It's just an effect of having to have grown up so fast'.

It was something that someone had once told you. You didn't remember the face to the voice, nor the situation you were in, but the words they spoke clung to you profoundly.

Just as you started to gather your thoughts back up, you felt the car come to a slow. The trees that once passed by your window in a blur were now easily recognizable, and you knew you were close to where Aizawa wanted to go.

Your eyes widened as you turned and looked out of your window to see the one and only U.A High. The large building was sitting atop the hill as if it was a throne that watched over the smaller buildings of Musutafu. It's size was enormous, and it made you feel tiny and incapable in comparison to it's inferred power. The building was covered entirely in windows, which all assisted the reflecting of the sun when it rose and set, helping to further ensure that everyone saw the power that it held inside of it.

Your eyes followed the building in silent awe as Eraserhead drove past it and into another parking building that was situated near the bottom of the hill that sat the colossal U.A High. As soon as he parked, you stepped out of the car yourself without him opening the door for you, wanting to get another look at the distinguished building that you had heard so much about. You had only heard from friends, passing strangers, and some news outlets about U.A.

All you knew was that it was a training facility for young heroes, along with some other departments for students of excellency that were somehow able to get into the school despite the infamously vigorous exams. Though, you also heard that as of recently they were allowing quirkless students to join as well, which bugged you a bit that they didn't already do that. You also knew that some of the top heroes had trained there, and so it piqued your curiosity about how the school ran on the inside.

However, before you could get any further you felt a hand on your shoulder, which caused you to jump and swiftly twirl yourself around with your fists clenched and up out of habit, only to come face-to-face with Eraserhead's stern expression.

"Slow down there, tiger. In case you forgot, you're a culprit of vigilante-ism*1. We can't let you go off on your own until we are absolutely sure we can trust you. Until then you are to stay by my side, and if you purposely disobey this on more than one occasion then you're due for a punishment " he explained, his tone turning sharp near the end to show the seriousness that it held.

You remained straight-faced, but your disappointment still seeped through a bit as your shoulders sagged for a second. However, you quickly regained your composure and steeled yourself to be ready for whatever the day held. You scolded yourself for losing your control for that split second, and you promised to watch yourself and your actions following. The situation you were in would be made infinitely worse if you managed to get yourself into trouble.

Eraserhead lead you up the path that directed you both from the parking building and up to the entrance to U.A., and as you followed him you marveled at the large concrete entrance and trees that dotted the broad front side of the school. Of course, all the trees didn't have any leaves since it was the winter, but you decided that if you were here long enough then you'd possibly get to see them again in the spring. You had mixed feelings about that thought, but you once again brushed it off in order to avoid the downpour of emotions that it would bring.

The air was dry and it stung your nose even you breathed it in, a harsh greeting that was a constant reminder of the winter season. It was a feeling that you had learned to numb out, as the number of nighttime outings would have been impossible to endure if you didn't.

The freshly fallen snow that fell the night before crunched underneath the two pairs of feet as Eraserhead walked up to the doors and you followed. He opened up a pocket on the black messenger bag that he had swung over his shoulder when leaving the apartment that morning and pulled out a small plastic card before sticking out into a small check in and out machine that sat right next to the 2 large entrance doors to the school.

You caught a glimpse of the card and saw a picture of him on it on the corner with some writing on it that you supposed made it an ID of sorts.

"Entered: Aizawa Shota. At 9:38 A.M on October 2nd, Saturday. No work hours scheduled."

The card reader stated with a mechanical female voice as soon as Eraserhead inputted the card into the slot.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah" Eraserhead muttered to the reader as he took his card back out and put it in his pants pocket this time.

You supposed that must have unlocked the doors because the light near the top of both of them that was once glowing red turned green soon after the card was inserted.

You wanted to go and open the doors yourself, but decided against better will as you recalled the stern warning that had been given to you earlier.

Eraserhead opened up door 1 since it was right next to the reader, and you followed his lead right after he stepped inside.

You couldn't help but gasp in awe a little as you scanned the large open area that was the first floor of one of the buildings of U.A.

*I tried simplifying what I thought the ground floor looked like*

There was a large circular table in the very center, with a few empty chairs behind it, only a one being filled. On top of it were some computers and other machines that you wondered were for what, and in a few stacked baskets were papers that were neatly organized and labeled. You read a few.

'Reduced Fee Application'

'Transfer Application'

'Complaint Register'

'Class Schedule- Hero Course [Year 2]'

'Campus Map'

'Suspension / Expulsion Documents'

'After school and Behavioral Programs'

There were many, many others, but you lost interest as there were too many to read and they all sounded mundane and quite average (to your disappointment). Though, you reached over and picked up a map while Eraserhead spoke to the secretary.

The receptionist was a man who looked to be pretty young, possibly in his twenties, and he had pale blue short hair that matched his darker blue eyes. His outfit was one of the staff outfits that U.A must have required certain employees to wear, his being a white button-up shirt that was tucked into pressed dark blue slacks, and held on with a shiny belt. His whole outfit looked extremely clean and well-cared for.

*A little doodle I made :)*

'That's U.A for you...' you thought to yourself, not one for overly fancy places and events, but you did enjoy the clean and organized atmosphere. Everywhere you looked you didn't spot a single grain of dirt, the place was practically sparkling.

The building was empty and quiet, which made it a bit unsettling as it spoke volumes as a place that seemed it should have been full and bustling with people. The devoid atmosphere created a sort of dead feeling, one that made it feel almost forbidden for anyone to be there. The receptionist's joyful attitude helped to diminish a fraction of your unease, but you didn't know whether to decide if that was his personality or a forced face most receptionists had to wear.

The man in question had a bright name tag on the front of his shirt, which read 'Hanzō Tsurumaki'. Upon noticing all the empty chairs that day without owners behind the man, you couldn't help but wonder where everyone else was, and why this man was all on his lonesome. Though he didn't seem too lonely, because he was all smiles and spoke in an energetic manner similar as that blond man- Mic- had earlier.

"...-yes, she's with me. I want to register her into the system because-"

You suddenly caught on to the little conversation that was being held between the two just as Eraserhead got cut off.

"Oh, a new student! Cool, what department do you want her to go into?" The receptionist asked eagerly, ripping out a piece of paper from under the desk where he was sitting and setting it down onto the clipboard, before grabbing a pen and excitedly scribbling something down on it.

"The hero course, for class 1-A.", Eraserhead casually responded, twirling the pen he had in his hand a few times while still reading one of the documents that he was filling out before he went to fill in the rest.

Your eyes widened, is he signing you up to U.A.? This early into your capture, and suddenly you're going to find yourself working under the very people that you had to do the dirty work for? This didn't sit well with you, but you realized that you were missing the conversation because of your distracting emotions, so you decided to question later and gather information now.

"Hmm, are you sure, this late into the year? If I may suggest-"

Eraserhead cut the man off,

"I know that and appreciate your suggestions, but this is a... special case. Most of the information has already been put into the system already, but there's still some left. I want her to be put into class 1-A since she has to be around me and my supervision as much as possible."

The receptionist hummed a bit with a smile as he furiously scribbled something down onto the paper, dramatically hitting the pen down onto the paper when he finished to put the period.

"Alrriiighty, Class 1-A...- Hmm." He stopped typing for a second, causing Eraserhead to look up from whatever paper he was filling out.

"What is it?"

"So, this quadrant you're in right now is for Second year Hero Course students. But I could technically still sign her up from here, but I really shouldn't because last time I did that I got nice yelling at." He looked almost apologetic. "They really like to keep the quadrants separate here, y'know?" The receptionist laughed nervously while rubbing the back of his neck, but his smile was still there. You wondered why so many people you've seen here smile so much.

Eraserhead sighed tiredly, the weight of more and more problems already starting to weigh heavily on him as he thought about all that he needs to get done and the even more the things that he needs to start.

"You know what- nevermind. Is there anyone in the first year quadrant?" Eraserhead asked, to which the receptionist dutifully searched on his computer, fingers flying across the keyboard.

He hissed lightly through his teeth, looking over to Eraserhead with guilty eyes.

"What?" It was a simple question, but the way Eraserhead said it made both you and the receptionist wary as his patience was clearly starting to dissolve.

"Soo, there aren't really much staff working today, and it looks like there are only 4 receptionists working today- one for each quadrant. But the receptionist for the first year Hero Course quad went on break and won't be back for about another 20 minutes."

Eraserhead just sat there for a second, seeming as if he zoned out for a bit, before seemingly snapping out of it.

"Just put her on through this computer,-"

The receptionist raised his hand a bit, about to retort before Eraserhead cut him off.

"Look, if you get in trouble, tell them to come to me. I'll explain everything to them, so don't worry about it".

The receptionist looked up at him with a grateful expression for a second before starting to work immediately, but not before stating an enthusiastic 'Yes Sir!' with another large smile on his face.

Eraserhead rolled his eyes from the sidelines as he was much too tired for having to deal with this particular receptionist time and time again. In fact, it seemed that everytime Eraserhead came to work after school hours, on weekends, or holidays when not too many people would stick around, he would somehow inevitably run into this guy. Maybe the older receptionists just kept giving him the hours and jobs that no one else wanted.

"Ok Eraserhead-san, I filled out as much as I could with the info that was inputted into the system, though there are some blank areas that'll need to be filled in yourself, is that okay?" The kind receptionist asked apprehensively, not wanting to get on Eraserhead's bad side. He's heard stories of the man.

"Yes, it's fine... ", Eraserhead didn't know why, but he suddenly felt the urge to follow up that with something else, and once again he found himself acting before thought.

"Thanks for your work, keep it up kid. People like you are the only thing that's holding up us older folks today."

And with that, Eraserhead signaled to you with his hand to follow him as he started walking in the direction towards the first-year Hero quadrant, and you obediently yet quietly followed, the both of you remaining inconspicuous to the dazed look on the young receptionist's face.

Hanzō quietly picked up the pen that Aizawa had earlier and activated his quirk, copying the exact way Aizawa had spun it in his hand earlier. Aizawa didn't know this, but he had greatly inspired a troubled soul that day with his words.

A/N:

Well I hope you all enjoyed part 5! I actually tried posting it a lot earlier, but my phone crashed and the whole thing was lost (⁠｡⁠•́⁠︿⁠•̀⁠｡⁠)

But no worries! I found some time and energy and was able to remake it! (Although without as much energy as I initially aimed for..)

Sorry about how slow this one is, I know that it's very similar to part 3, so I know it's most likely not going to do well when posted, that's why I'm going to try to post part 6 soon after.

I'm so very sorry for the delay! I've been really busy trying to juggle lots of different things all at once and I've been feeling a little burnt out, but I'm glad that I was able to get this chapter out for you all, so thank you for your patience!

I'm currently working on the other parts now as I type this (multi-tasking), so I just wanted to assure those questioning that I have everything planned down to the very end (⁠๑⁠¯⁠◡⁠¯⁠๑⁠)ゞ

Thank you for reading, I hope you have a lovely day!

(Also I might start a tagging system, so if you'd like to be a part of that so you can know even the next chapter is out then please let me know!)

*1 - I made up the word (vigilantehism). Please don't mind it too much! (⁠+⁠_⁠+⁠)

⛩️Tagging! 🎑

@cactilli

@breadglasses

@nat-the-gemini

年2023/月02/日12

　 ∧＿∧

　( ・ω・)

┏━Ｕ━━━Ｕ━━┓

┃　♡好き♡ ┃

┗━━━━━━━━━┛

#escaping the night #bnha aizawa #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #aizawa shōta #dadzawa #aizawa x daughter reader #my hero academia fanfic #bnha fanfiction #bnha #boku no hero

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bluerose5 · 1 year

Text

Beyond the Loss

Shalibrations prompt from discord for Garrus and Shepard comforting Tali during/after her loyalty mission.

~~~

Tali didn't know how to feel.

So many emotions were running through her. Her thoughts amassed into a flurry of unending noise. She wanted so badly to let loose a scream at the top of her lungs, but all of her energy had been sapped clean from her body.

When all else felt uncertain, she found comfort in that which was familiar.

She sat upon the floor in Engineering, staring at the drive core while it pulsed, the Normandy's quiet yet steady heartbeat.

At one time in her life, she thought the ship —the original ship— to be too quiet for her tastes. She could remember how uneasy she was at first, her instincts crying out that something was broken or damaged.

Then, she grew to love the ship and its silence, just as she grew to love its crew.

So many of them were lost to her.

And now, her father was gone too, all because he was trying to take back their homeworld. For her.

Tears fell down her face as she stared unseeingly into the distance. She tried hard to come up with new ideas for the ship, ways to improve its systems, but those were empty distractions at best.

She had lost so much. She just wanted the pain to stop.

When Tali heard the doors to Engineering hiss open, she frowned.

Without looking away from the drive core, she called out, "I thought that I told you two that I want to be alone!"

"Damn," Jane replied. "Are we that predictable?"

Two pairs of footsteps approached, but Tali simply hugged her legs closer to her body, the side of her helmet resting upon her knees.

She didn't bother meeting their eyes.

"I told Gabby and Ken that I needed time to myself," she huffed. "I guess it was too much to hope that the locked doors would deter you."

"If you truly want us to go, then we will," Jane assured her. There was shuffling and the slight creak of weary joints as Jane knelt before her.

Garrus plopped down at her side with way less grace, but his presence was a welcome comfort nonetheless.

"But we have a feeling that you don't actually want that," he whispered, the flanging of his voice reverberating in an attempt to comfort. "You shouldn't have to be alone right now. We should get through this as we always have. Together."

A lump got stuck in Tali's throat, choked up on all of the emotions lingering in the air.

There was a time when they weren't together, though.

Both of them had already lost Shepard once, and they saw how well that worked out.

Her father's death only reminded her how fragile life truly was. How even the strongest of them could be there one second, then gone in the next.

Maybe her behavior wasn't that befitting of an admiral's daughter, but she couldn't care at the moment.

Right then, she was simply a daughter who lost her father. A woman, who only two years prior lost one of the greatest people in the galaxy that she had known.

There was always the possibility that she could lose her again.

If this mission through the Omega-4 Relay didn't go exactly as planned, then she could lose them both. Both Garrus and Shepard. The ones who were there for her since the beginning.

Pain radiated throughout her chest.

She was so tired.

It took its toll, always having to be strong in front of others.

For once, she let her emotions guide her. She launched herself into Shepard’s arms without warning; but, while initially shocked by Tali's actions, Jane instantly wrapped her up into a warm embrace.

Tali buried her face mask into the crook of Jane's neck, then released a shuddering breath.

For once, she let herself be vulnerable, all alone with the two people she trusted above all others on that ship.

Her voice broke when she spoke.

"I want you both to stay," she whispered, her tone tiny when faced with the day's horrific onslaught of news. "Don't go."

"We're right here, Tali," Jane assured her, squeezing tightly, as if she would never let her go.

Oh, how Tali wished that to be true.

"We're not going anywhere," Garrus agreed, "not unless you ask us to."

Tali shook her head at the thought.

"No, I want you to stay," she said, more certain, resolute. "I–I can't lose you two."

Jane and Garrus exchanged a pointed glance over her head, but their silence only made her panic spike even more.

Holding Shepard close, as if her very life depended on it, she repeated, “I can’t lose you. Not again. Either of you.”

It didn’t help that, in his grief, Garrus disappeared without a trace. Tali felt his loss as well during those past two years. It was hard to ignore his absence when he left no messages indicating his whereabouts, no explanation. How often did she turn to her side, expecting to talk shop with him, only to feel disappointment when she was reminded that he was gone.

Up until recently, she hadn’t even been certain that he was alive, part of her worrying that he had run off and gotten himself killed.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Garrus murmured. He shuffled his way over and hugged them both. “You won’t. We’re not going anywhere.”

“With what we’re up against, you can’t promise me that.”

“We just did,” Jane stated. She pulled slightly away, just enough so that she could meet Tali’s eyes while she talked. “And we’re going to keep that promise, okay? Your father might not have survived to give you that house on the homeworld, but we can still hold onto that promise and carry it out for him.”

“That’s a tall order for you to fill,” Tali mumbled.

“I think I speak for both of us,” Garrus told her, “when I say that we like a challenge.”

Tali gave a watery laugh, knowing from experience that there was some truth to those words.

Even then, it took little for that fragile laugh to fracture into painful sobs, the foundation of her composure slowly but surely slipping out from under her.

Thankfully, they didn’t judge her. They didn’t try to stop her or offer worthless platitudes.

Instead, they held her, and they let her cry in their arms.

They offered her their presence, and that was enough for her.

By the time she had quieted down to mere sniffles, she could confidently say that she felt somewhat better. Not whole, not by any means, but better.

It was a step in the right direction, at least.

Jane pressed a soft kiss to the top of her helmet, and Tali spared her a weary smile.

“Thanks, you two.”

“No thanks necessary,” Garrus said. “Always happy to help.”

“That, we are,” Jane agreed, shifting in place. “Now, I don’t know about the two of you, but I think that this day calls for a pile of blankets back in my quarters, some snacks, some drinks, and a whole bunch of movies.”

Of course, Tali instantly perked up at that.

“Oh! Can we watch Fleet and Flotilla?” she asked. Widening her eyes beyond the mask, she clasped her hands together as she stared up at Jane, knowing well enough that Shepard couldn’t resist that expression. “Please?”

Garrus already knew that Jane was a goner then, not that he had planned on actually protesting the request, but he loved to tease Tali about her fascination with that movie regardless.

“Ugh, again?” he asked. One playful glare from Jane was all that was needed to straighten him out, though. “Alright. Whatever you want, Tali.” As they got to their feet, he flared his mandibles out into a slight grin. “I might have even picked up some graxen when we were last on the Citadel.”

Tali gasps, “You did not! You’ve been holding out all this time?”

“I wonder why,” he deadpanned.

“Can’t have anything to do with a certain quarian who always steals his snacks,” Jane joked.

“Sharing is caring, or so the humans say,” Tali chuckled. She poked Garrus in his side. “I fully expect you to share, Vakarian.”

“For you, I think I could spare a little.”

As they continued to bicker on the way to the elevator, Tali savored the warmth that started to blossom, working to overtake the cold that had threatened to take root.

While things might not have been perfect at the moment, she was certain that life would get better. The storm wouldn’t last forever. One day, she would bathe in the sunlight at the start of a new day.

And she had faith that, with Garrus and Jane at her side, they could get through anything.

#mass effect #mass effect trilogy #tali'zorah vas normandy #jane shepard #garrus vakarian #shalibrations #tali x shepard x garrus #femshep #bluerose writes

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heavensbeehall · 3 months

Text

"Catching Fire", Chapter 15

Part 2: The Quell

Chapter 15: The Preps keep crying when Katniss arrives in the Capitol. Cinna's new costume turns her into a burning ember. She goes down to the chariots and meets Finnick Odair. Katniss thinks he's creepy but I have read these books before so I know she's wrong. They do the Tribute Parade. Chaff kisses Katniss and she doesn't like it. Johanna strips naked and she doesn't like it. Peeta tells her they are teasing her and she's mad. Also. Darius is their new Avox.

Thoughts:

-- Katniss thinks she "has" to console the Preps and that it's annoying. But she could also just cry with them, but I don't think she can allow herself to be vulnerable in front of them.

-- How ugly do we think the District 10 costumes were? I'm picturing one of those inflatable cow Halloween costumes.

Quotes:

"Don't worry. I always channel my emotions into my work. That way I don't hurt anyone but myself."

D: D: D:

Cinna knows exactly what he is doing with the Mockingjay costume. In addition to designing "dozens" of wedding dresses, he then remade the winning one with an entire other dress underneath it. And I can't help but feel that--if he got the preps away safely--he could have gotten himself away, but he chose to stay. I am assuming he wanted to be with Katniss at the launch room. (Either that or he treats his life as nothing but a performance art piece?) Didn't want her to go in alone. But she did anyway. D: D: D:

"Portia and I spent a lot of hours watching fires," says Cinna.

Are they together? Or just work partners?

Finnick Odair is something of a living legend in Panem. Since he won the Sixty-fifth Hunger Games when he was only fourteen, he's still one of the youngest victors. Being from District 4, he was a Career, so the odds were already in his favor, but what no trainer could claim to have given him was his extraordinary beauty. Tall, athletic, with golden skin and bronze-colored hair and those incredible eyes. While other tributes that year were hardpressed to get a handful of grain or some matches for a gift, Finnick never wanted for anything, not food or medicine or weapons. It took about a week for his competitors to realize that he was the one to kill, but it was too late. He was already a good fighter with the spears and knives he had found in the Cornucopia. When he received a silver parachute with a trident--which may be the most expensive gift I've ever seen given in the arena--it was all over. District 4's industry is fishing. He'd been on boats his whole life. The trident was a natural, deadly extension of his arm. He wove a net out of some kind of vine he found, used it to entangle his opponents so he could spear them with the trident, and within a matter of days the crown was his.

I am getting tired of people trying to tell me Finnick and Annie weren't Careers. Finnick definitely was and Annie probably was. It taking a week for his competitors to realize how popular he was suggests that going in at 14 was a ploy to make him less threatening to the others. Possibly he didn't join the Career pack because of his age (though it doesn't specificy.) This passage also hints at Mags, his mentor, having another skill besides making fish hooks. She must have squeezed a lot of money out of Capitol citizens for that trident and timed it's arrival strategically.

I really want a District 4 book because I want to know about their Career training system. It seems slightly different from the other two, more individualized perhaps.

Because of his youth, they couldn't really touch him for the first year or two.

The Capitol won't sex traffic a 14-year-old kid. But once he's sixteen, that's fine, right?

(It's actually kind of sad that multiple people tease her for being "pure"--as Peeta says--uncomfortable with nudity and kissing. They must have all had fucked up sexual awakenings.)

He's draped in a golden net that's strategically knotted at his groin so that he can't technically be called naked, but he's about as close as you can get.

I hope Mags' costume isn't matching!!!

Probably this drives most people crazy. But for some reason all I can think of is old Cray, salivating over some poor, starving young woman.

Cray is not far off from the aura he is giving off. Maybe I shouldn't bring up my dark Finnick headcanons. But... his persona must be mimicking people he knew, right? So... was he exposed to sexuality before he was 14??? Or did this Finnick not emerge until after the Games?

"Do you think we'd have ended up like this if only one of us had won?" he asks, glancing around at the other victors. "Just another part of the freak show?"

"Sure, especially you," I say.

I think Katniss would've ended up like Johanna or Haymitch if she had won alone, actually. Though if Prim survived she would try to keep it together for her sister. I don't know about Peeta. Katniss seems convinced he'd be worse than her. I could see him ending up like the Morphlings, maybe, since they have so much in common (and also the only way I see him winning alone is by hiding in his rock). But I could also see him being a really good mentor, like Mags.

The woman, Seeder, looks almost like she could be from the Seam, with her olive skin and straight black hair streaked with silver. Only her golden brown eyes mark her as from another district. She must be around sixty, but she still looks strong, and there's no sign she's turned to liquor or morphling or any other chemical form of escape over the years. Before either of us says a word, she embraces me. I know somehow it must be because of Rue and Thresh. Before I can stop myself, I whisper, "The families?"

This is a small moment but it's important to me and I'm sad it was cut from the film.

#finnick odair #tribute parade #peeta mellark #mags flanagan #cinna #rue #seeder #chaff #johanna mason #darius

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natashasnoodle · 2 years

Text

Falling For You | Robin Buckley x Female Reader

Masterlist | R.B Masterlist

Words 1.5k

Summary: Your first date with Robin took an unexpected twist.

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Modern College AU

Living in college dorms was an experience. People were messy, parties were thrown in the hallways every other day rendering no sleep for everyone in the vicinity, you talk to people that you would never ordinarily talk to out in the wild, and for most people, it's living away from home for the first time and everyone reacts differently. You get the people you hear crying through the walls every night because they aren't coping with homesickness, and those who are absolutely thriving in the new environment they have been thrown into.

Some people even happen to meet people that they have a romantic interest in when moving away. If a person grows up in a relatively small town, it can feel weird dating people that you've known for your whole life, or you just never meet anyone that you would want to. But as soon as you're out in the big wide world it can feel like there is plenty of fish in the sea.

When you had moved out of your minuscule town with no one interesting in, to out into the big city of New York, you had a shock to the system. Everywhere was in reach and it was always active. At home as soon as 9pm hit the town was dead silent and everyone was safely tucked into their homes. But here, the nightlife was rife, which was a cool thing to witness even though you weren't too keen on big bustling parties.

You had been one of the lucky ones when it came to finding someone at college. It was a few months into your first semester when your roommate kicked you out for an evening with her boyfriend. Having nowhere else to go, you decided to sit in the hallway with your laptop plugged into an outlet that looked like it was about to fall off of the wall, and sat practically pouting as you worked on finishing the draft of an upcoming essay. Though the thought of sitting on badly carpeted floors for hours on end made it hard to focus as the numbness already started to kick in.

After an hour of doing work you heard a door slam down the hall and then someone mumbling profanities under their breath whilst kicking the skirting board, before settling down against the wall with their laptop too. It was only after they unlocked their device with a huff that they noticed you not too far away. Red clearly rushed up her cheeks as she realised that you had seen her little outburst, but when you offered her a shy smile and a wave she knew that it was okay, and carried on working through some tasks on some new music composition app that her class had been introduced to.

As it turned out she was sat dejected in the hallway for the same reason that you were, and it just so happened to be a regular occurrence, happening pretty much every weekend. Your roommates sucked. But over the course of a month, the two of you gradually warmed up to each other and ended up sitting next to each other and chatting whilst getting work done. You learned that her name was Robin and you both practically told each other your entire life stories one night. With the new vulnerability and the lateness of the hour, you both moved closer and shared your first kiss, which was incredible, and that led to her asking you out on a date.

It was planned for the next weekend, and you couldn't have been happier. Your roommate had even agreed to not kick you out until a bit later so that Robin could pick you up from your door and not whilst you were sitting out in the hallway. She and her boyfriend were excited for you and had started trying to hype you up when you got nervous as the time drew near.

You sat on your bed anxiously playing with the rings on your fingers staring at the door expectedly when 7pm hit. But there was no knock at the door.

When 7:20 hit the other two in the room started sending you sympathetic looks which weren't helping, but they were right. It wasn't as though Robin had far to travel, she was a few doors down. With a sigh, you stood and told your roommate that you would get out of her hair, and left to go freshen up and maybe have a nice relaxing shower at the communal dorm showers. Though no shower in that room was ever relaxing.

Your feet dragged as you made your way down the hall, and as you passed Robin's door you debated on knocking but felt rather embarrassed so continued on your journey to the shower room. You pushed the door open and turned the corner, expecting the room to be empty due to the silence of it, but you ended up jumping out of your skin when you saw none other than Robin Buckley standing in front of you wrapped in a towel as she clumsily held it up with one hand, her other arm looking black and blue at her elbow.

She didn't look to be having a great time, and your eyes widened as you took in the sight of her. Her eyes followed suit when she looked up from staring at the floor, "Oh thank God!", she shouted and moved forward slightly before wincing.

"What the hell happened?", you spoke and stepped forward to examine her arm further. "I'm so sorry I must be so late for picking you up I've been in here for what feels like hours and no one has come in", she began nervously rambling, to which you gave her a pointed look for her to get to the point, "Right, right. I slipped and landed weird, they really need to get some shower stickers or something, but yeah I thinking my arm is broken", she looked at it with a frown.

"Okay first things first you don't have to apologise, the main issue right now is the fact that you have a snapped bone, and secondly you 'think'?!", you exaggerated with your hands, "Rob there's no thinking here, look! It's definitely broken, we gotta get you to a hospital".

You felt Robin's stare burning into you as you spoke and look up to see her with a dopey smile on her face, "What?", you questioned with an eyebrow raised. "You look nice", that was the smoothest you had ever heard Robin talk, a lot of the time she stumbles over her words. But due to the severity of the moment, you rolled your eyes in amusement, "Come on Casanova let's get you dressed".

At that moment Robin seemed to finally realise what was happening and she shook her head with comically wide eyes, "Get me dressed?". You frowned and looked at her with incredulity, "Unless you want to go to the hospital in a towel and freeze to death", you deadpanned and it sunk in for Robin that this was going to happen. "Okay... but close your eyes".

You agreed with a small gulp and locked the door before grabbing her clothes from the side and walking over to her and closing your eyes. It was a tricky task and you were both incredibly flustered by the end of it as it was a rather embarrassing thing to be doing to anyone let alone someone you were supposed to be going on a date with.

"Let's go get your arm chopped off", you laughed and unlocked the door, heading out into the hall with Robin trailing behind you, though apparently, that was the wrong thing for you to say. "What?! You think they're going to chop my arm off? I can't live without it, my entire degree is based on playing a two-handed instrument Y/n what the hell am I supposed to-".

"Woah, woah", you spoke and raised your hands as though talking to a scared horse, "It was a joke, Rob, they're just gonna take some x-rays and stick it in a cast for six weeks, after that you'll be as good as new". Her spirits visibly rose which you had to hold back a laugh at, and you took hold of her good hand out of instinct, wanting to get her to the hospital as fast as you could, knowing that she was secretly in a lot of pain right now, just doing a good job of hiding it.

You missed how she blushed but felt the way her grip on you tightened, using you to ground herself to reality. A source of comfort. "I'm sorry I ruined our date", she said with guilt lacing her words. "It's okay, I just wanna make sure that you're better and get your arm nice and sorted, okay?", you reassured her as you led her outside and to your car.

She smiled, now knowing that you really didn't hate her or blame her for anything, and once she was comfortably seated in the passenger seat and you had gotten in next to her she turned to you with a smirk, making you frown yet again. "You could say that I fell for you".

Your face was blank before you laughed and reversed your car out of its parking space, "You're a dork, Buckley".

✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

Taglist: @fxckmiup

#robin x reader #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x reader #stranger things

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thetaurusgeminisystem · 3 months

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Hetalia writing blurbs #1

A/N: So this is a series I'm probably going to post whenever I come up with some sort of short blurb from a story that is one of my WIPs. I'm doing this to hopefully gain some encouragement because I struggle sometimes with continuing a story. This is a blurb that was written by me and an alter in my system who is an introject of Germany. A lot of what is written is from his own source memories that he's had in the past. This is incomplete at the moment, but I wanted to share what was written.

TW: MENTIONS OF WWII GERMANY, POSSIBLE DESCRIPTIONS OF BAD CAMPS, HISTORICAL HETALIA. Not for the faint of heart. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Berlin, Germany

December 1961

If there was one thing that he hated to feel it was the feeling of weakness. From a young age, Gilbert had taught him that allowing your enemy to see your vulnerability was a death sentence waiting to happen. As the wall went up around the borders of his heart city of Berlin, he became completely fragile.

Ludwig Beilschmidt knelt in front of the concrete fixture that was raised by that damn commie and his men. The wall was thick, cold, and covered in razor sharp barbed wire at its peaks. He had watched so many of his desperate citizens try to escape the harsh rule of the communist east. He also watched them fail miserably and then if they were lucky they weren't executed.

The sound of gunshots, barking dogs, and Russian commands rang in his ears. Nearly every single time the sounds were accompanied by the flashbacks of his foolish mistakes. He knew damn well that he couldn't take on Russia alone, but he was truly too afraid to argue with his boss. Instead he stood by his men's sides as they pumped meth in their systems to block out the excruciating pain or sleep deprivation. He never imagined that his men would become addicted to the illicit substances and then become desperate for more of them.

He could remember the sight of seeing his men lying in the cold and unforgiving snow dead. Their deaths came from either the loss of blood and bodies riddled with bullets or the freezing hand of Russia's famed General Winter taking hold. Being shot to death was a mercy killing when you could die slowly of frostbite and hypothermia. As dark as it was to say, he preferred seeing the snow painted scarlet then to see the failures of his boss to realize that the lack of supplies would cost so much more than the land was worth.

Ludwig had gotten into the habit of coming and kneeling before the monstrous concrete wall almost every day. The habit had come after seeing the true physical state of his older brother Gilbert who now was known as East Germany. Some days Ludwig swore he could hear a lone flute playing on the other side. As it grew much colder though, the sound of the flute grew fainter and fainter. This didn't discourage the younger German personification though. He came every single day and stayed until nightfall because he feared that if he didn't come then he would lose hope.

As it was, he was already losing hope. England and France barely made a move to aid him and his people. Of course he felt that he should have expected that, but it didn't mean that it didn't cut him any less. America seemed to be his only true ally here. The young personification stood by his side when Russia made him feel threatened. Ludwig felt he owed much of his current freedom to the American and his younger sister.

The American girl with the teal and rust colored hair seemed familiar to him. Of course she had taken care of him and his wounds while he was forced into America's custody and he had seen her on the battlefields during the war, but there was something else about her. Ludwig knew her official name to be New York City, but her human name was lost on him at the moment. Everytime he thought of her recently it was like he was trying to access information that he wasn't allowed to. Why the hell was his brain blocking the information away?

What frustrated the German even more about the situation of his lost memories was that every time the personification of New York City was around him, he felt a strange sense of home. Did other nations feel that way when she was around? There was a small part of him that kind of hoped that they didn't. He didn't know where that part of his brain came from, especially because he hadn't made a move towards her, hell he didn't even understand what his feelings were towards her in the first place!

Ever since his time staying in her home, he hadn't fully been able to get her out of his mind. The girl was kind to him and patient with him when he felt that he didn't deserve her kindness, let alone her patience. He saw himself as a monster after he was forced to see the true nature of his boss's “perfect Germany”. He understood why so many other countries looked at him with anger, disgust, and even hatred. Yet the two Americans didn't look at him that way. They looked at him with sympathy.

Gods, but why sympathy? Did they feel sorry for him? Why? Sympathy was a sign of being fragile! He wasn't weak god dammit!

Suddenly Ludwig was brought out of his thoughts when he felt the touch of a cold tendril upon his face. He blinked as he noticed the simple white flakes beginning to spread across the ground. He looked up at the skies above him and saw the sun was still fairly towards the eastern skies, even if it was well hidden by a layer of clouds.

He then glanced down at the cracked wrist watch on his left wrist to confirm his suspicions.

1:00pm

Ludwig then stood to his full height and rested his forehead against the wall. He hadn't heard the sound of Gilbert's flute today, but he was too determined to leave. Gilbert had to be somewhere on the other side, he just knew it. Ludwig took a deep, shaky breath before he began to softly sing “Einsamkeit”. Each of his words were punctuated by a small puff of steam.

“One day bruder… one day” Ludwig finally said quietly as he finished the song. He leaned his head against the cool concrete and closed his eyes. One day he would finally be free and let his people live a life in democracy.

Ludwig stayed this way for at least a few good hours. The only time he seemed to move was to get back into a kneeling position when his legs grew tired. He was almost in a trance, his thoughts dragging him back to the past. His trance-like state made him grow unaware of the growing blizzard conditions around him. He even grew to not realize the steady worsening of his cough.

His mind was at a day in the past where he was forced to his knees in similar snow. He had cuffs securing his wrists in front of him securely. The biting steel of Russia’s pistol dug into his temple while the barrel of England’s was digging into his upper back. He could see dingy and disgusting looking buildings, a gallows where a cowardly soldier allowed the rope to claim his life, and what looked like an army of living skeletons being led away from further horrors by American and British soldiers. What he could remember most about the environment that Arthur, Ivan, Francis, and Alfred had dragged him to was the acrid smell of death.

“Are you aware of what's been going on here, Herr Germany?” the Russian asked, his tone dripping with an edge of disgust, mockery, and anger. As the question left the Russian, the barrel of his gun jabbed at Ludwig’s temple.

Ludwig had no idea that this place even existed, no less , had been used to murder innocent people. He took another look around in horror from his spot kneeling on the ground. Silent tears began to roll down his cheeks as he realized why his body had been sick and why Ace had betrayed him along with others among his men. Ace never meant to hurt him or betray him. She was trying to save him as many of his citizens had.

“Answer the question, you dirty kraut! How could you do this to your own people?” Arthur growled and then he kicked Ludwig in his lower back making the German fall face first into the dirt.

After a moment more of seeing dead bodies being taken away, a sharp pain burst across Ludwig’s chest. “NEIN! I KNEW NOZHING OF ZHIS, MEIN BOSS KEPT ME IN THE DARK ABOUT ANYZHING OZER ZHAH ZHE VARFRONTS!” Ludwig cried out as his tears spilled in a nearly uncontrollable manner at this point.

In that moment it was the first time that Ludwig was fragile around his enemies. When the trials came, he expected a death sentence. What he got was way worse.

The four allied nations had agreed to drop the genocide crime against Ludwig. This was due to all the evidence that New York was able to present. The evidence supported the theory that Ludwig was kept in the dark about all matters outside the war fronts. That didn't stop them from charging him with the rest of his war crimes though.

In the end, he was split into four sectors that were divided among the four allies. England, France, and America took the westward sectors while Russia took the eastward one. Russia's demands did not end there though. Thanks to a rightfully traumatized Poland and Lithuania, Russia demanded that Gilbert be completely disbanded as a nation and his land given to Poland.

What Ludwig had not known was that this very factor left Gilbert defenseless against Ivan and his lackeys. Gilbert had been beaten and kidnapped from the eastern side of the wall and was now imprisoned deep in Russian territory.

8:00pm

The icy winds of the blizzard kicked up and the snow was nearly blinding for anyone who dared to come anywhere near the Berlin Wall.

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xtruss · 10 months

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A bulldozer works to maintain Chicago's underground. More frequent and intense storms pose danger to aging infrastructure like these tunnels. Photograph By Keith Ladzinski, National Geographic Image Collection

Here’s What Worries Engineers The Most About U.S. Infrastructure

Water and sewer systems built in the mid-19th century weren't meant to handle the demands of modern cities, and many bridges and levees have aged well past their intended lifespan.

— By Alissa Greenberg | July 17, 2023

Christine Kirchhoff’s family were preparing to move into a new house when Hurricane Harvey hit Houston in 2017. Then the massive storm dumped 50 inches of rain on the area in just a few days, leaving two nearby reservoirs so full that their operators were forced to open the floodgates. Kirchhoff’s family had to be evacuated by boat. Both their original and new houses were inundated.

As an associate professor of civil and environmental engineering at Pennsylvania State University, Kirchhoff spent a lot of time thinking about water even before it swallowed her family’s livelihood. She is part of the legion of professionals behind the complex, often invisible systems that support American life: dams, roads, the electric grid, and much more.

For the last 25 years, the American Society of Civil Engineers has been sounding the alarm on the state of that infrastructure across the country. In their most recent assessment, for example, transit scored a D- and hazardous waste a D+. It’s an expensive problem to ignore. The ASCE estimates current infrastructure conditions cost the average family $3,300 a year. “Everyone is paying whether they know it or not,” Kirchhoff says.

Train derailments, highway and bridge collapses, and dam failures have become increasingly common. But which areas are civil engineers most concerned could cause imminent catastrophe, and what can we do about it? Kirchhoff and other infrastructure experts weigh in.

Water Contamination Crises are Already Here

The engineers we talked to agreed: our water systems are in trouble. Both those that protect us from water as a hazard (stormwater, dams, levees, bridges) and those that help us manage water as a resource (drinking water, wastewater, inland waterways) are in grim shape.

Streets were flooded after Hurricane Harvey hit Houston in 2017. Photograph By Ilana Pancih-Linsmam, The New York Times/Redux

The United States’ 2.2-million-mile drinking water and 800,000-mile sewer system was developed in part in response to the widespread waterborne diseases of the mid nineteenth century, Kirchhoff says. Maintenance has lagged woefully behind since then; some older areas, including some cities in the northeast, still use century-old wooden pipes. And many more of our pipes nationwide are still made of lead.

A water system designed for yesterday’s climate and to filter yesterday’s contaminants is especially problematic in a world of increasing demand, fiercer and more frequent storms, and “forever” chemicals. The result: boil orders, water main breaks, and sewer overflow, plus 15 percent of our water treatment plants working at or over capacity. These issues, combined with the toxicity of lead pipes, lead to water crises like the one that continues to plague Flint, Michigan.

Amlan Mukherjee, the director of sustainability focusing on infrastructure at WAP Sustainability Consulting, recommends focusing on these pipes—swapping lead for PVC or other materials and fixing the leaks that spill some 6 billion gallons of treated water a day—as one high priority fix.

Our coastline is also dotted with facilities storing hazardous oil and other chemical waste cocooned in donut-shaped earthen structures, adds Bilal Ayyub, a professor of civil and environmental engineering at the University of Maryland at College Park—structures that, he notes, could be made of concrete. Because of soil’s vulnerabilities, he worries that dramatic rainfall or a storm surge could destroy these structures, resulting in a release of toxic chemicals “bigger than the Exxon Valdez spill by orders of magnitude.”

His worst-case scenario has already happened at least once, when floodwaters from Hurricane Harvey ate through the earthen container at the San Jacinto River Waste Pits, releasing noxious waste into a nearby river.

Physical Collapse is Happening Now

Meanwhile, the number of high-hazard-potential dams in the United States now tops 15,000. Many were built during or before the WWII era and have been widely neglected since then. And when it comes to bridges, “there are cautionary tales all over,” says Maria Lehman, president of ASCE and vice chair of the Biden Administration’s National Infrastructure Advisory Council. “Every county in the country has a list of bridges that, if they had money, they would replace tomorrow.”

Our 617,000 bridges include not just those spanning mighty rivers but also every highway overpass and minor link across a stream—and close to one tenth of them are significantly compromised. “If you have to think in terms of catastrophe, we’re already there,” Mukherjee says. In 2007, the collapse of an I-35W bridge in Minnesota killed 13 people and injured 145. More recently, a six-lane bridge over the Mississippi was closed for three months in 2021, disrupting interstate travel and shipping because an inspector missed a significant crack. Americans drive 178 million trips on structurally deficient bridges each day.

Every day, millions of Americans travel across bridges and overpasses, like the Marquette Interchange in Milwaukee, that may be structurally deficient. Photograph By Keith Ladzinski, National Geographic Image Collection

Yet the US spends only 1.5-2.5 percent of its GDP on infrastructure, proportionately less than half of what the European Union spends, Lehman says. This long-term lack of funding has run out the clock on many solutions. Many of our bridges were built to last 30-50 years, but nearly half are at least half a century old. The average age of our levees is also 50; our dams average 57.

Now, extreme weather is intensifying just as structures fail. We’ve already seen consequences in the devastation of Hurricane Katrina in 2005, for example, when collapsing levees inundated 80 percent of New Orleans, killing hundreds, or in the failure of an under-inspected dam in Edenville, Michigan, which flooded the region and destroyed thousands of homes in 2020. The trend is set to continue: after Superstorm Sandy engulfed New York City transit, Ayyub helped study similar risks in Washington, D.C and Shanghai. His models showed widespread flooding that could swamp D.C. metro stations and in severe cases even reach “the backyard of the White House.”

The Future of U.S. Infrastructure

Mukherjee is optimistic about the use of new technology to solve some of these issues, though adoption has been slow. Drones can provide human inspectors with up-close views of areas they can’t reach themselves and reduce chance of human error; a drone on an unrelated project captured footage of the Mississippi bridge crack two years before its discovery.

Ayyub has also worked with North American freight railroads to find weak links using computer modeling, combing through thousands of stations to “identify exactly which point if it fails will have the biggest impact,” he says. Why not do the same with our power grid and waterways?

One piece of good news: in 2021, Congress passed the Bipartisan Infrastructure Law, which provides $1.2 trillion over five years for the ailing systems that help American society run, the largest federal investment in US history. It was a major victory. “Every president for the last eight presidents said we should spend a lot of money—like a trillion dollars—on infrastructure, and none of them delivered,” Lehman says.

Unless it is renewed regularly, though, this funding will barely stop the bleeding. And meanwhile, across the country, families like Kirchhoff’s (who after a difficult year were able to rebuild both the destroyed houses) struggle to recover from a relentless march of disasters, many of them preventable. It’s time for the US to learn the lessons drawn from of a century of neglect, Lehman argues, and begin maintaining the systems that makes so much of American life possible while they’re still in working condition.

“If you have a leak in your roof, you go up there, find it, replace the shingles, put on a little tar” she says. “If you let it go, it’s not going to be a little fix: it’s going to be a replacement.”

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mahalshairyballs · 2 years

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What would it take for Jake lockley to fall in love???

Sorry for the delay in the response.

It's actually a very interesting question!

I'm not sure what it'd take 🤔, would he need to work on his emotions before being able to fall in love or can he just do it already, he only thinks he can't because of his past ?

Jake weirdly enough, got me thinking about nature vs nurture a lot. Since I don't think Jake's 'real' or 'original' personnality is what he is today. How Jake is as an adult is how his childhood personnality got forcibly changed by the events he went through.

He might not be able to see a path back to his 'original' self, maybe there isn't one.

So what would even be his 'original' self ? Well, a way to see it is 'what if Steven had been the one to receive the abuses' ?

Jake was never like Steven, not exactly. But he was more sensitive? Kind-natured.

I think 'roles' aren't set for alters, not for the Marc system at the very least, they have to be taken. Either Steven or Jake could've been the emotional / physical protector and vice-versa. It just so happened that it was Jake who became the physical protector, but he had the potential to play Steven's role.

So did he have the ability to love before going through all this? Of course.

And now? I think he still does. It's just hidden way deep.

I think Jake knows that he's more sensitive than he lets out. And he's scared of it. He's not so much scared of being 'vulnerable' in front of others, as he is scared he won't be able to control it if he lets it out, won't be able to go back to his usually calm demeanors.

Jake isn't scared of new situations, he's used to that. To think on his feet, quickly, and deal with the hand he's given and make the most of it. He is, however, scared of unfamiliar emotions.

So he is scared of love. That may be why he kinda wants to not be able to love, since he doesn't know what he'll do with that emotion.

So what would it take for Jake to love?

To feel something strong for someone, to care about them, it wouldn't take that much more than for most people. Actually, just really *seeing* him, seeing him as different from Marc, addressing him by his name, appreciating him for who he is, goes a long way. He'll definitely at least like you a lot just for doing that.

Then, well, someone who is fun to be with, someone who gets what he does and try to understand him, someone who respects him, someone who's nice and gives him special attention.

He can fall fast for someone, since he's as desperate as the other two boys for love and approval. He just doesn't know it, as opposed to Marc and Steven who do.

The thing though is, what would those strong feelings feel like ? Would they feel like what we usually associate with 'love' or different?

I think it would be pretty different. I do think there's a few characteristics of love within that feeling, like wanting what's best for the other, liking their personality, wanting to spend more time with them, be close to them, etc. But I don't think it'd feel 'good' necessarily.

Like with his unease about nice physical touches, this kind of unfamiliar feeling that's supposed to be nice would feel - painful instead. Because this time it's the realization of something that's been missing.

Love for him would almost feel like a drug. It's something that's not necessarily enjoyable for him, but nonetheless he still wants more and can't go without once he got in contact with it.

So there's a chance that he'd become the most jealous of the three. Driven by that fear that this new love would go away anytime now.

I had a scene in mind where Jake found out that Steven and Jean-Paul had gotten in the habit of cuddling together in the mornings. They weren't doing anything more, but just that got Jake pretty mad at Steven.

Jean-Paul tried to explain the situation and wasn't really happy how mad Jake got for something so innocent to them (especially since they're in an open relationship presumably...). It was the first time Jean-Paul saw Jake that pissed off, which shocked him. But even what Jean-Paul saw was dialled down from how Jake was really feeling.

Jake blew up in their innerspace, so much it scared Steven. It wasn't pretty.

Jake feels a lot. He doesn't understand most of these emotions and doesn't try to. He only tries to live without being noticed too much, which means not letting these emotions show and not act on them too much.

So then what would it take for Jake to feel love that's more 'usual' or feels nicer ?

That, my friend, would be therapy. Lots of it. And letting it go, even if that means he won't be able to put it all back in again.

#anon response #anon asks #why is everyone on anon aww #hope the person will see my response #of course it ended up being another long essay about Jake #jake Lockley #moon knight meta #moon knight essay #moon knight headcanon #jake: i came i saw and i saved your dumb asses #jake x frenchie #nobody expects the spanish lockley #jake lockley isn't unreasonable #but sometimes he is

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sandrajames689 · 3 months

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Cisco Patch Solves Major Privilege Escalation Flaw Impacting VIM Systems

<h2>Cisco Fixes Major Flaw in VIM Software</h2> <p>Cisco Systems has issued an important security update to address a severe privilege escalation bug in their Virtualized Infrastructure Manager (VIM) program. On April 20th, the tech giant pushed out a patch to close a vulnerability that could let hackers take over devices running the VIM software.</p> <h3>The Vulnerability</h3> <p>According to Cisco's security advisories, VIM had a flaw in how it handled config files. By accessing these files, an attacker with basic user credentials may be able to steal sensitive internal info. Even worse, they could then leverage this data to boost their permissions on the targeted system!</p> <p>The technical details are a bit dense, but basically it came down to loose file protections. Certain config files weren't properly locked down. So a hacker could simply read these files to obtain creds for the database backend. From there, it was no problem for them to snoop around the DB or even escalate their privileges straight to admin level.</p> <h3>The Fix</h3> <p>Luckily, Cisco has already released a patch to tighten up VIM's security. Systems running version 4.2.2 or later are no longer at risk. Older deployments need to be promptly upgraded, though, or else they remain vulnerable to attack. Cisco has also provided some basic workarounds to limit access in the short term.</p> <p>It's always important for organizations to promptly apply any software updates addressing critical flaws like this one. Privilege escalation bugs can have massive impacts if exploited. With Cisco disclosing technical details and supplying fixes, there's no reason vulnerable systems should remain unpatched.</p> <h3>Staying Protected</h3> <p>As new vulnerabilities are found daily, it's crucial system owners regularly review product security advisories. By proactively monitoring sources like the Cisco security center, teams can ensure all products are running the latest, safest versions. Compliance is key to preventing costly breaches down the line.</p> <p>With clear communication around this VIM issue, Cisco helped admins take fast action. But it's a reminder we must remain vigilant - the threats are constant, and out-of-date systems will always be exploitable. Staying updated is cybersecurity's bottom line.</p>

#software update

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the-thinking-mans-mirror · 4 months

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1. We're On A Road To Nowhere

“So in conclusion, this specimen cannot be classified at the moment, and until it can be properly studied, should be contained with special caution. Despite them… not showing signs of aggression.”

“You know it doesn’t necessarily have to be a Supreme type. We agreed that we consider all of them irreversibly dead, and if proven otherwise, we surely would already know about that. No reason to worry.” Dr. Kengis assured him and landed on his chair, crossing his legs. Dollan had to wait out a few seconds while he checked the text that popped up on the screen of his laptop and rubbed his hands together contentedly after finishing reading it.

“For sure it doesn’t have to be one, but at least the two of us need to know what to do in case it ends up destroying the facility. We don’t want history to repeat, Doc, and I’ll… Well…” Dollan trailed off after he met the doctor’s disapproving glare. “You know very well why I’m so unsure about this.”

“Try looking at this from a more positive angle. Such little injury on them is a rare occurrence nowadays, almost as if it's their first transition, and as I’m informed, they seem to be already conscious, and I’m going to get in contact with them.”

Dr. Kengis carried on and on about how special this new case was, but the captain didn’t listen anymore. Over the years that Dollan had spent on the Platform, he became more and more convinced that his constant fear of vulnerability was justified as he learned how weak the “Shards” were in practice. No surprise they needed such a strong security system and at least some real humans and not just copies of their personalities and memories. Even if they had no emotions, the Shards were inferior and Dollan wasn't planning to change his mind about it. He didn’t trust anything. The doctors, the assistants, all the unwilling participants of this study, which he couldn't call any word other than “lab rats”, god, even the other security guards.

Taking part in the study of “mind reflections” taught him that humans stick their noses into things they weren't even supposed to know about more often than it seemed. The more the doctors proceeded, the more damage was done. And yet… whether he liked it or not, those were the specifics of his job.

The guards were supposed to bring them in the next ten minutes, at the time they were already on the way. A group of five went down the hall, carrying a person. A tall figure of a woman didn’t fit fully on a stretcher, her feet hanging off of it. Bizarre colors of her hair and clothes didn’t fit in the whiteness of the building, but it didn't seem to bother anyone. As she started to wake up after what felt like eternity, her long pointy ears twitched. She tried to open her eyes, but right after she squinted as her nose got scrunched up. The air in the room was filled with a pungent chemical smell. Combined with bright ceiling lights, it was not only suffocating, but blinding as well. She had to consciously put effort into listening to the noisy environment to process what was going on. Surrounded by, as she managed to notice, people dressed in a distinctive gray uniform with blue and white coats on top, she felt the surface she was lying on shake with each of their steps. She still didn't feel conscious enough to be able to understand what they’re saying, but just enough to grasp separate words. “Platform”, this word clearly repeated from time to time. It was hard to imagine in what context it can be used, because so far the idea she got of the place they were in was a hospital. After all, the thing they carried her on seemed to be a stretcher or something like that, hospital stuff either way.

“Why would I be in the hospital in the first place?” A thought crossed her mind, a first clear one in a long while. Anxiety interfered in the chain of thought and sudden doubt filled her mind. “This doesn't seem right. Should I talk to somebody? These doctors are weird anyway… If anything happens, how am I supposed to get away from at least five people?”

The odor suddenly became unbearable and the burning in her throat caused a coughing fit. The voices got louder as something that she identified as a weird looking medical mask got pulled on her face. It did make breathing easier, but it certainly wasn’t designed for it. Apparently, nobody thought about asking how she was feeling and this fact made her distant worry grow. “I’m like, ninety nine percent sure those ain’t doctors. Where the hell am I?” But this thought also got swept away as one of the people plugged an unknown device into her ear. By the looks of it, it was an earphone, but it didn’t make sense - why can’t they just speak like that? Maybe she would’ve asked if at that moment she wasn’t interrupted.

”Greetings, Number 12! Is the connection alright?”

The sudden noise startled her, she flinched but didn’t make a sound. The voice was by no means familiar.

“I… Uh… You see, it is, but you’re too loud…” She reported hesitantly, clenching her fist in slight discomfort.

“My apologies!” The stranger said cheerfully, way too cheerfully, but… Thinking about this, she was missing out on a lot here, so maybe their excitement was justified. But at least the level of sound was comfortable now. “It’s a good opportunity to be able to speak to you in person before you’ll be put under proper containment.”

“Containment? What’s going on, exactly?” Her anxiety returned as she realized that the situation started to take a dark turn.

“No need to worry! After we make sure you won’t be able to cause any disorder, we’ll discuss that!” The lack of proper reply to her question made her terror stronger.

“I'm-… I'm sorry, I think you didn't hear me. Where are you taking me?” She asked with growing horror, and was ready to call for help if needed, when the earphone let out loud crackling static, making her jump again, and after a moment of unpleasant noise it faded into…

”…Can you hear me? Hello? We don’t have much time!” A worried voice was calling out. It was more appealing and sounded feminine, and despite something still being a little bit off with it, she answered in a cautious whisper. “I can hear you. Who are you?”

“Awesome, 12! I don't mean harm to you, I want to get you to snap out of your dream, hence I implore you to tell me the truth. Do you know what you’re doing here?”

“…I don’t think I do…” She replied, dread overcoming her. If she had known something this entire time, why couldn't she recall a single memory of this place? What else did she forget?!

“Hm… That’s not a good thing, but I’m sure we’ll figure this out together, 12.”

”You know I have a name, right?”

“I didn’t hear him call you by your name, forgive me. What is it?” And she went quiet. For a good ten seconds she laid there, still carried to an unknown place where she was apparently about to get locked away for god knows how long, when something finally came to her mind. This special name… She felt a strong connection to it - it must be hers. ”It’s… Atlas. I think that’s it… I hope so at least. Hard to say when you barely remember anything at all.”

“We don’t have much time, Atlas. But you’re lucky you got me - machines find their way to anywhere. Now, if I may ask…”

“What was that about just now? Don’t tell me you just hacked into somebody’s system and…”

“Why, of course I did, silly. How else could I get to you?” They paused to let out a sigh and this made Atlas realize she has a breath to let go of as well. “We’ll talk about this eventually, but the alarms will come off at any moment. I need you to get out there before everybody finds out about our conversation.”

“I doubt it’s going to be that easy.” Atlas groaned and shook her head. Her thoughts just began to catch up with the present, and it wasn’t looking good in any way. Taking a peek at what’s in front of her, in the gaps between the backs of two people that were in the way she saw a door.

“That gotta be an elevator or something.” She thought, narrowing her eyes in an attempt to take a better look.

“Yes, that’s exactly what we are going to use for your escape.”

Whoops. Did she really say it out loud and didn’t notice?

“I must be thinking too loud.” Atlas managed out a scoff. None of the five guards seemed to notice and that made her ask the stranger on the call, “By any chance, do you know why these guys ain’t paying attention to what I’m saying?”

“I don’t know. I assume that’s the effect of the mask you’re wearing. Anyway, I must warn you.” As they paused, Atlas noticed how the group started to slow down, judging by how much less the stretcher shook. “You’re about to inflict some change on your surroundings. The best advice I can give to you is just to… believe you can do it. Trust your mind more than you trust your eyes.”

Atlas slowly lifted her back off the stretcher, leaning on her forearms. Looking at the elevator door just a few steps away, she saw one person walk up to the strange device near the door that looked like a tablet and press their palm to it. The device made a short satisfied sound, and from above everyone heard a distant thud. Not exactly the sound an elevator usually makes.

“And when, pray tell, I’m supposed to do something about…”

The blinding white light changed to red in the blink of an eye. Through the speakers right above them a deafeningly loud siren broke out. The sound stunned the group, and while they stood, frozen in surprise and confusion, Atlas stared into the slowly opening door, as she muttered her realization that was already evident.

“Well god damn. Guess the time’s now.”

“Atlas! The elevator!” The voice alarmed. “You need to get in it before they can!”

In terror, Atlas realized that behind the door was nothing other than pure darkness. The elevator shaft was empty. Of course it was, the power must’ve shut down!

“It’s not there!”

“I know! It doesn’t matter!” The voice yelled, and as Atlas saw everyone turn around to her, as if just realising she was there at all, she heard exactly what her panicked mind was telling her. “Jump!”

And Atlas leaped off the stretcher, getting out of her jacket with amusing speed as one of the people held onto the collar of it to stop her, and reached the fully opened elevator doors.

The darkness consumed everything in a matter of seconds as she slammed into the opposite wall, managing to get a good grip onto one of the loose cables.

“What are you doing?!” The voice exclaimed in utter shock, as if they genuinely expected Atlas to jump right into the all-consuming darkness.

“I don’t want to die, idiot!!!”

Atlas’s hands started to get weak and she slid down the shaft for a good few meters with a panicked yelp.

“Remember what I told you about the changes! You won't die if you think of your will to live! Use your power to bend this place however you wish, Atlas!”

Looking down, Atlas thought of all the things she would've wanted after she was out of this place. Nothing came to mind but… She wanted to know. She needed to live to find out! She didn't know what she was living for yet, but she sure as hell wouldn't go before she figured it out!

And Atlas finally gave in. Fingers slipping off the cable and legs slightly pushing her body off of the wall, she fell, fell into the evident nothing, her confidence in the opposite holding solely onto the very belief that below there’s more than certain death. Squeezing her eyes shut, she wanted to scream, but the wind that hit her in the face left her breathless. In the last attempt to protect herself from god knows what awaited her at the bottom, pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them tightly. She could barely hear what was in her earphone, which stayed in place by sheer luck - the wind was too strong. This descent seemed to last at least a good minute until Atlas realized there was no point in keeping her eyes closed. The pitch darkness devoured the small world she escaped from right into its gluttonous hands. And it was about to close down its jaws so in the end, Atlas disappears in it as well, but just the moment before it happened…

Her collision with an uncertain surface caused a loud bang, but Atlas barely felt any pain. Suddenly being surrounded by cold, she attempted to look up, and in that moment all she could see was the column of water that rose above her from the impact.

“You’ve made it!”

#writing #beginner writer #writers on tumblr #writeblr #fiction #psychological fiction #science fiction #scifi #fantasy #superhuman #the thinking man's mirror

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house-of-laminations · 2 years

Note

Fallen Angel!MC dislikes using their wings unless they absolutely have to. They aren't exactly fond of Diavolo's plan to unite the realms because honestly they wish both Devildom and Celestial Realm would stay the hell out of the human world. Humans already have enough problems to deal with on their own.

Though Fallen!MC is not related to Lilith at all I could see Lilith bothering them in their dreams like a creepy stalker ghost. Trying to convince the angel that they should really help save her family because 'it's the right thing to do' and then being told no. They're an angel of patience not an angel of kindness.

MC doesn't even really want to make pacts with the demons - they abhor the idea of controlling others. It would make them as bad as the Celestial Realm they fled. They do end up helping Belphie get free from the attic if only because they value freedom so much. Perhaps they also have a soft spot for someone who they once called friend. Though him claiming to be a human and fallen!mc pointing out that his portrait is in the hall.

Of course once Lesson 16 happens and everyone realizes that mc's a fallen angel because humans don't bleed golden blood. Nor do they smite demons with divine light. Or have broken halos that are blackened with tarnish. I imagine the brothers have varying levels of horror and disbelief at what mc actually is and what it means for them.

Diavolo and Barbatos trying to figure out what to do with this new information. How would the Celestial Realm and Michael react to the news that the missing angel has been found?

I doubt the brothers are going to want to surrender fallen!mc - they already lost Lilith. While they don't know the details surrounding mc's fall how do they know that they won't be executed if handed over to Michael. Most likely they'd try to convince MC to stay in devildom - which they won't. The human realm is there home - it's where they belong.

There's so much drama potential but also Belphie's self-loathing and jealousy to try and keep his fallen love interest in Devildom with him. Also demons trying to court the fallen angel and absolutely failing at it. They don't seem to figure out what would win the Fallen's affection would be returning them to the human realm.

Yes to all the angst!!! and also!!!! Consider the arc of a fallen MC who learns the pacts aren't about control: they're about trust. They're a promise, loyalty for loyalty. For a solitary creature, it's like a siren song.

Fallen MC distrusting Diavolo's desires for peace - because won't it just be more of the same? Except instead of a stalemate and a silent treatment between the realms, its just the tacit acknowledgement that both their systems suck and they're not going to do anything about it. And once they find out about Diavolo 'binding' Lucifer in his most vulnerable moments? ooh boy. oh no.

The brothers believing that 'hey, we're both technically fallen!' means they'll have an easier time courting MC, but in reality it's harder, because for all intents and purposes, they fell with grace. They had a new home waiting for them. They had each other - they weren't alone.

#fallen MC #obey me mc #driving this bus towards MAXIMUM ANGST tm tm tm #i talk to a real human

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ksalientian · 2 years

Text

32. [orv] han sooyoung & kim dokja

a kim dokja who never wakes up. text version of my twitter post.

These days, it was only Sooyoung who visited anymore.

She nodded to the nurse on duty, whose face was so familiar Sooyoung could list the placement of her moles with no hesitation, and whose name Sooyoung still didn't know. At first she had felt as though knowing would make everything permanent; now— now she was only being stubborn.

Kim Dokja was pale white as the belly of a fish, blending in with his sheets. He wasn't like a normal patient, and he didn't have as many machines around him as the people in other wards. A monitor for his vital signs, a catheter that Sooyoung had blushed at before, an IV stand filled with mundane nutrient fluid instead of the Fables of the past. His face remained unobscured but for a slim tube fed through his nose, and as always, he looked like he was only sleeping.

"Still here, huh?"

It was her standard greeting. Though the evaporation of his lifeblood that had been so urgent at the start had now slowed to a crawl— Sooyoung watched a tiny glimmer of light float up from Kim Dokja's forehead and disappear— it was still happening.

Yet despite it all he persisted.

Even Aileen and Lee Seolhwa had no guesses why Kim Dokja's avatar, which should have crumbled soon after the system did, was holding on so tenaciously with such frail hands.

Sooyoung remembered the taste of blood in her mouth and thought she knew why he lingered.

Constellation, ‘Demon King of Salvation’, is currently activating ‘Will to Live Lv.1’.

She thought she could hear it even now. But that was a secret for her and Yoo Joonghyuk to keep. This was an avatar, but he was still Kim Dokja, after all. She wouldn't go telling his vulnerabilities to anyone else.

"I bought a new car last week," she said, trying to dismiss her other thoughts. "It looks just like the one we made an advertisement for back then. Unfortunately for you, you're destitute now; I'm definitely the only one who can afford it."

As she told Kim Dokja about her life while poking his thin cheeks, some part of Sooyoung was still wondering how long this would last. Over the years even the strongest of feelings faded, whether intentional or not. Most of their erstwhile Company had unconsciously drifted further away, starting their lives anew, finding new constants that weren't Kim Dokja's crooked smile. Yoo Joonghyuk, she knew, avoided the hospital on purpose, devoting his remaining heart to his sister.

Sooyoung might have been one of them. Only she was a writer with an obsession— she would see the end of the story, no matter what it was. It was just that even her stubborn heart was capable of growing tired.

"If you wake up, what then?"

It wasn't the first time Sooyoung had said 'if', instead of 'when'. But she also found herself wishing, and this was for the first time, that Kim Dokja's epilogue would hurry up and come already. She reached out and pinched his nose shut, frustration suddenly welling up in her like a tide. Of course, from Kim Dokja there was no response, and she let go when the nurse gave a polite cough.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

But to whom she was apologising, Sooyoung wasn't sure.

#omniscient reader's viewpoint #kim dokja #han sooyoung #fanfiction #from my twitter

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raggaraddy · 3 years

Text

Lessons learned

Summary: When you break his rules Namjoon isn't going to let you go unpunished.

Trigger warnings: Spanking, groping, emotional manipulation, yandere themes, abuse.

Namjoon

Yandere!Namjoon Alpha!Namjoon

"Sorry. My fault. I told him that you said I could." You mewl sheepishly, batting your eyes up at Namjoon. You had just wanted some time to yourself. You know that he doesn’t like it when you walk through the forest alone, but recently you were craving the beauty of nature with the peace and quiet of solitude. And today you had someone new as your watcher. Someone young. Someone who wouldn’t know very well what you were and were not allowed to do.

Watching now as the boy cowers from the rage in Namjoons voice, you feel endlessly guilty for having taken advantage of him.

“Alpha, I-” The boy starts.

"Who told you to speak?" Namjoon emits a chesty growl leaving him wide-eyed and frightened. When Joon is in this his pack leader mode even you can feel the potency and power in his tone, you can only imagine how one of his wolves feels it.

Seeing the panic in the young man, Namjoon lightens his response. He breathes once fully in and out to settle himself. "I do understand that this was simply a slip of judgment. I am annoyed at the events, but I am not angry at you. Now go home. We will talk about this later,"

The boy, still too nervous to speak, nods his head quickly and scurries out the front door.

Now alone together in your house, Namjoon turns his full attention to you. His chest is already puffed out, his stance strong and solid.

“Y/n. Why do I put people in place to watch you while I am not here?” He questions sincerely looking for your answer. You know why, but you don’t really like the system of being guarded and don’t want to reply and validate his actions. So you only shrug.

He sighs. Rolling his neck, relaxing his shoulders, he scratches his neck. "Beautiful, I have people watch you not because I like the fact that others are with you while I am not here, and not because I want to crowd or smother you, but because I want you to be safe.” Gently his hands take yours, the ferocity he had with the boy having disappeared now that he was dealing with you. Leading you with him to sit on the couch he has a soft calming smile on his face. “You are my Mate and you are vulnerable. If something were to happen to you because I was careless or gave into your ill-considered demands, how could I bear to live with myself.”

His explanation has you feeling even more guilty than you already were. You weren't meaning to get the young man in trouble and you didn’t mean to make Joon worry. You just wanted to feel the breeze and sunlight coming through the grass and the trees.

“I’m sorry Joon.” You pout.

“I know you are Beautiful.” He brushes back the hair from off your face, tucking it behind your ear. The backside of his fingers tenderly caresses your cheek giving you warm signals of his love. “But I can not just allow this behaviour to go unaddressed.”

You jut your lip out and whine quietly.

You lied. You went out on your own. And you didn’t tell him where you were going. You broke a lot of rules and you already know where this is going.

“There are rules to keep you protected Y/n. And there are consequences when you do not follow those rules.” He softly reminds you. Sitting back on the sofa a little, he flattens his legs and pats them lightly calling you into place. “Come on Beautiful.”

You whimper puffing air out your nose, but follow his gesture laying your torso on his lap, resting over his legs. Leaning your elbows on his hard thigh you push yourself a bit more upright.

Slowly and softly his fingertips run up and down your bare thigh and rub your ass through your denim shorts. You are very thankful to have a thicker material on right now.

"Do you understand why I have to do this Y/n?"

You want to say no, but you've argued about this before and you always lose. Still, you can't bring yourself to actually say yes, so you just nod.

"Thank you Beautiful." He coos. His large hand smacking down at the same moment. Your head flicks back and you yelp at the sudden pain, already bucking up and struggling out of place.

With an intentional lifting of one of his legs he makes you fall further over his lap, raising your ass a few inches higher. Hanging you half on the couch with his hand pressed to your back to keep you down.

Alternating between both sides of your butt, Joon strikes, again and again, getting several hard smacks in before your legs start to kick and patter from the intensifying pain. Each blow is a mix of a sharp sting and a heavy thud. The swift smacks have you squealing, fingers digging into the fabric of the lounge, and biting your lip harshly to quiet the more vocal cries that risk falling out.

Namjoon's hand aims lower and he slaps once on the soft skin of your upper thigh. That one hit shocks you and really, really stings, it breaks any attempt you had at suppressing your tears. You break into a sob, hiccuping and panting as you try to press against his hold and push from his thighs to get yourself upright. Tears starting to drip down your face rolling over your bitten lip.

Effortlessly, his forearm keeps you from standing up. As his hand makes contact again with your thigh the cooler air of the room swarms around the heated marks making them throb. The pain of each hit morphing from a sting to a deep bruising ache.

“Stop. Stop. No more.” you cry, now fighting with effort to get loose. “I don't like it. It hurts.” He shuffles his legs breaking your balance. Wrapping his hand around your side and digging his fingers into you to dampen your fight, he slaps you again, this time harder. His wordless warning to stop resisting.

"Do you think that I enjoy having to do this Y/n?" He asks gently, stopping for a moment to rub small soothing circles over your butt.

Unable to move you give in and collapse your weight letting yourself dangle. You know he is strong enough to both hold you still and hit you. He's done it before and you believe 100% that he'd do it now.

"Yes." You mutter with a sniff.

He bursts out a short sharp laugh at your sulky tone and your sour comment. "Well, I would be lying if I said that you wriggling in my lap didn't turn me on a little. But that's your fault. You've got such a fine ass." He chuckles swatting you lighter and more playfully, the motion turning into a firm grope.

"I don't want anymore. I'm sorry. I've learned my lesson, I promise." You continue to cry, trying to reason or barter your way free.

"No Y/n. You're not done yet." He says sincerely. His open hand trails under the bottom of your shorts, his fingers feeling cool against the radiating heat of your skin. He squeezes your ass again, digging into the bruised and tender muscles causing you to yelp and whine while you unavailingly try to wriggle away. "You can cry all you like. You can hate this all you like, but I am not going to stop until the reminder is firmly printed on your ass. In a week from now when you still can't sit down without it hurting, then you can tell me you've learnt your lesson."

His hands come out of your pants and his forearm slides up along your shoulder blades, tipping you over further, lifting your butt higher still. "Joon," You coo his name to plead for leniency with a high tone and a sniffle.

"No. Now behave and don't fight me Beautiful." He smacks again with a warm chuckle. Your claim that he enjoyed it had brought his attention to how you rubbed and grinded against his lap in reaction to every strike. "The more you do, the longer I make this last. Then again," he laughs, "you're right, I am kind of starting to enjoy this." Lifting up as much as you can you look back over your shoulder and up to him with wide eyes. Focusing down at you he has a small satisfied smile on his face. He slaps your ass again, smiling a little bigger as you struggle and squirm. "So if you do want to keep fighting, I can make this last all night."

#yandere bts #bts #yandere #bts fanfic #bangtan #yandere bangtan #bts smut #yandere namjoon #bts namjoon #kim namjoon #alpha namjoon

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