#bus booking portal

[paytrav]

Paytrav is a leading API integration company in India, offering direct API solutions for various products such as AEPS, MATM, DMT, Multi-recharge, and Fastag. If you're looking to integrate APIs into your website or white label solution, we have dedicated software and digital solutions available.

[nadiajustbe]

I love the concept that Howl dislikes carriages as much as Sophie dislikes car rides. Because, sure, he moved to the magical world for a bunch of little conveniences like seven-mile boots and interdimensional portals, but he's also the Royal Wizard, so sometimes he needs to have a formal entrance by carriage.

And that's where Hell comes in. He is in dire need of his considerable collection of discs and cassettes to play music at full volume. He can't close or roll down the window (god, there no one at all!), and the sun is always either beating down on the seat or the wind is blowing through, he can't cry dramatically over a tune, he can't control the flow of the ride. The horse stops every two metres because of an old age or a desire to do its business. The whips slap loudly, making his ears bleed, and the coachman can be an extremely unpleasant person. The carriage sways from side to side as if it is about to fall apart. They either drive along obscure narrow paths in the forest with a lot of bumps in their path, or almost practically on the heads of poor passers-by. And he also can't stand how slow it is, how terribly slow, no matter how fast the horses are driven.

He keeps tormenting poor Ben (who, unfortunately for him, is the other Royal Wizard who often rides with Howl) about how terribly they are travelling and calculating how quickly they would have arrived there by car (10 minutes, Suliman, 10 minutes and we'll be there!).

Yes, he loves magic for its speedy portals and seven-mile boots, but if you want to take him on a vehicle with four wheels, it has to be a CAR.

[cerealmonster15]

thinking abt ur jamiazu fic where they go on a field trip and azul carried jamil <3 loved them sm .... azul talking to the lil octopus was so cute too

wahhh THANK YOU i really liked writing that one!!! i love making characters be SILLY DORKY LITTLE FOOLS

hes being SO VERY SERIOUS RIGHT NOW!!!!!!!!!!!

i'd like to think jamil was Haunted by that new lore of Azul Being Strong Enough To Carry Him With Ease LOL

[ezulix]

Travel is one of the basic needs of a person and it will never stop. So If you are planning to setup your own business, this can be a great startup Idea. You can start your own brand travel agency and can make it a handsome source of Income.

Ezulix Software is a leading travel portal development company in India. Our travel booking software is fast, easy to use and highly secured panel that allows you to create travel agents all over India and they can offer online ticket booking service by using your travel admin portal.

For more details, you can visit our B2B/B2C Travel Portal or can apply for a free live demo. (+91)7230001612

[baibhav]

Transport Booking Software Development Company

Rainet Technology stands out as a leading Transport Booking Software Development Company, offering cutting-edge solutions to clients globally. They have established a strong reputation for delivering high-quality software development services that are tailored to meet the unique needs of their clients. The company has a team of highly-skilled and experienced professionals who are committed to delivering top-notch services always. With their deep understanding of the transport industry, they are equipped to develop and implement software solutions that streamline operations, enhance efficiency, and increase profitability for businesses. The company's commitment to excellence and customer satisfaction has earned them a place as the best choice for any transport business looking to develop a booking software solution.

Visit Website: https://rainet.co.in/bus-booking-system.php

[rainet00]

Transport Booking Software

Transport booking software is an essential tool for businesses in the travel and tourism industry. It helps to streamline the process of booking tickets, managing reservations, and tracking payments. Rainet Technology Private Limited offers a comprehensive transport booking software solution that can be tailored to meet your specific needs.

The AEPS API allows you to accept payments through various payment gateways, including debit cards, credit cards and net banking. This feature also enables customers to make online bookings with ease by providing them with secure payment options. The BBPS API provides access to multiple banks so that customers can pay their bills quickly without any hassle. The PAN CARD API allows customers to verify their identity before making a purchase or reservation on your website or app.

The BBSS feature makes it easy for you to manage bus ticket bookings from anywhere in the world at any time of day or night. You can easily track customer information such as name, contact details and seat availability using this feature. The FBP feature enables customers to search for flights based on destination city/country and date range while comparing prices across different airlines simultaneously so they can get the best deal possible when booking their flight tickets online.

Rainet Technology Private Limited’s transport booking software is designed with user-friendly interfaces that are easy-to-use even for those who are not tech savvy users. Our team of experts will provide full support throughout the entire setup process ensuring smooth implementation of our solutions into your existing system architecture if required! Contact us today for more information about our transport booking software solutions.

Visit Site: https://rainet.co.in/Bus-Booking-System.php

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP idea: Yeti Orders

Danny Fenton gets sent to Gotham by a worried FrostBite who thinks he's overworking himself. Danny will do no hero work for an entire year on his Yeti doctor's order to let his core heal from overuse.

He was even shipped through a portal to a similar universe with almost exact ectoplasm levels so that his usual foes would not bother him. The plan was to hide as a human in Gotham, letting his poor core get the much-needed rest.

Frostbite's contacts—whoever they were—managed to set up Danny's fake identity, complete with a home to call his own.

It was a somewhat run-down place, but it was isolated from the rest of the city due to some gas leak a few years back. It was safe to move into, but no one wanted to face the memories of the tragedy. Danny lives alone in the far corner of the city and loves it.

Danny is also told to try to avoid any high-stress-inducing work, so with that in mind, he finds himself applying for a job at the public library. He's a just age out of the system orphan who moved to the big city to try and make a new life for himself.

Every day, he skips onto the city bus, which stops just outside his street; he rides towards the center of Gotham, picks up a latte and some new pastry at the cafe near his work, and spends days filing away books. He gossips with his co-worker Barbara about his nonexistent love life and starts to feel normal for the first time since he was fourteen.

Danny giggles with Barbs about the most eligible bachelor under forty list two months into his medical retreat. He is swooning over Bruce Wayne- though Babs makes a face - when the door to the library is kicked open.

The two librarians gasp as a group of men wearing question marks march in a group of tightened people at gunpoint. Danny doesn't have time to react before two barrels point at him, and a man yells for them to join the group.

He is forced to kneel alongside random citizens unlucky enough to have been caught on the street. Babs is knocked off her chair to the ground. The man laughs as she tries to drag herself closer to the group, which causes Danny's core to flaar in rage.

Two hours go by, with everyone on their knees, surrounded by guards. They are hostages, but what for, Danny doesn't know. All that he can pray for is for everyone to stay calm until help comes.

Sadly, that doesn't seem to be the case when a baby wakes in his mother's arms and won't stop crying. The guards quickly lose patience with the panicking woman until they drag her away from the group and rip her child from her arms.

Danny can't stay by and watch anyone, not with the gun being pointed at a little one.

He ignores the ache his core thumps with as he prepares to change into Phantom and save everyone. Yes, Frostbite will be angry, which may set back all the healing he's done, but Danny doesn't think he has a choice.

"I'm going-"

A crash from overhead interrupts his battle cry as a figure drops down on the main guard. Danny watches, amazed, dumbfounded, as the person does some quick flips, kicks, and punches, dancing out of the way of bullets and taking down the kidnappers one right after the other.

They didn't even use powers. Just some form of martial arts. It was amazing.

Soon, the figure stands, surrounded by bodies, and really, this should be on a poster; it's such an excellent shot. The person, now that he's not a blur bouncing around the room kicking ass, looks like a man with a with a metal staff. He has a red and black costume, with a long black cape on his shoulders.

He walks over to the woman, handing her back the baby that he managed to save mid-punch. She clunches to her child, sobbing so hard she shakes and the man carefully offers her some comfort.

Danny might just be in love.

"Is everyone alright?" a new voice asks suddenly, right in the middle of the circle of hostages, causing Danny to release a scream. Seeing as everyone stops to turn to him, he is not proud of the fact. Danny glances at the newcomer who spoke, feeling his face heat up.

This one is mostly in blue, but his outfit is obviously made from the same material as the bo-staff man. He has an amused smile on his lips, which should be illegal.

"Don't mind, Danny," Babs says as someone helps her back into her chair. "He's not from Gotham. This is his first Bat encounter."

Everyone nods like that makes sense, no longer staring at him like he lost his mind. More and more Bats eventually show up, having defeated the Riddler- apparently a man who regularly kidnaps people to make riddles out of?- and everything gets sorted.

The Bats stay long enough for the police to show up and haul the goons to jail. Witness statements are taken. The medics treat anyone injured, and in all the chaos, the Bats vanish.

Babs closes the library early, sending Danny home with a relieved smile and the next two days off. At that time, he finds out everything he can about the Bats, and he is amazed that a whole clan of them is running around saving Gotham.

Danny quickly realizes that he doesn't need to be Phantom here. The city already has heroes keeping her safe.

Instead, he becomes the Bat Clan's number-one fan. Buying a laptop just to join fan forums, watch old footage of the Clans, and join the BatBurger loyalty program.

By the time the Libary reopens, Danny caved into the urge to write fanfiction. He uses Phantom as his username, figuring no one would ever know. He may enjoy his yeti orders a little more now.

Meanwhile, Babs is showing Tim the fanfiction about Red Robin falling in love with a civilian. She laughs at how much Tim gets into it because Danny really does have a talent for the written word.

"Has he written anything else?" Tim asks once he catches up with the latest chapter.

"He just posted a new story about Batman falling in love with Bruce Wayne," Babs says, watching the numbers on his views rise. "It's only five chapters so far, but apparently, the world-building is amazing."

"Phantom wrote that the Bats were a ghosts of some kind." Dick yells from where he is also reading the Red Robin fanfiction, "Frankly, I'm flattered by how hot he made Nightwing sound."

"You sure he's not a threat?" Tim asks, clicking open the new fic with barely concealed glee.

"No. Danny has a weak heart. Per his doctor's orders, he can't be in any stressful situation. He's just a sweet kid who became our fan after the save from Riddler." Babs says, "I highly doubt we'll see him near the cape scene."

[joelmillerisapunk]

Escapism

Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 5,733

Summary: The grumpy Joel, one bed, who did that to you trope fic no one asked for/ Ellie matchmaking for Joel

Warnings: 18+, smut, joels a grump, ellie's there, reader experiences a tiny bit of ptsd from being captured prior to meeting joel and ellie.

Notes: Ty to @evolnoomym for the moodboard and beta reading and @syd-djarin & @joelslegalwhre for the beta read. and @saradika-graphics for the divider.

The world changed in the blink of an eye. Civilization, with all its comforts and securities, crumbled under the weight of a relentless pandemic. The infected roam the earth, their minds and bodies ravaged by a virus that turns them into mindless, ravenous creatures. Humanity, once the masters of their domain, is now just another prey in a landscape that has turned savagely against them.

You are on your own for months, ever since the virus claimed your sister and the raiders took everything else. Your husband and son, Ethan, are lost to the chaos, leaving you with nothing but the clothes on your back, a backpack filled with meager supplies, and a book - "No Pun Intended: Volume 1" - a cherished memento of a life that once was.

The days blur into a testament to your will to live. You scavenge for food, avoid the infected, and keep moving, always moving. The world is a graveyard of memories, and you are just another ghost haunting its ruins.

As the sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, you find yourself in the remnants of a once-bustling town. The buildings stand like skeletons, their windows shattered, their doors hanging off their hinges. It is here, in this desolate place, that you decide to make camp for the night.

You choose a spot behind an overturned bus, its rusted shell providing a modicum of shelter. You gather what little dry wood you can find and build a small fire. The can of beans you scavenged earlier in the day heats slowly, the metallic smell mingling with the scent of smoke and decay that seems to permeate everything.

As you wait for your meal, you allow yourself a rare moment of stillness. The book lies open in your lap, its pages a portal to a time when puns and laughter were the greatest concerns of the day. You are so lost in the world of words that you almost don't hear the low growl that signals the approach of danger.

It happens in a heartbeat. One moment you are alone, the next an infected lunges at you from the shadows, its bloodshot eyes and snarling mouth a terrifying vision of death. You have no time to react, no time to defend yourself. The creature pins you to the ground, its fetid breath hot against your face.

Panic surges through your veins, a scream lodges in your throat. Darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision, and you brace yourself for the end. But then, the deafening crack of a gunshot splits the air. The weight of the infected creature collapses onto you, its lifeless body trapping you beneath its bulk.

For a moment, time stands still. You lie there, stunned and gasping for breath, the world around you reduced to the pounding of your heart and the ringing in your ears. Then, as quickly as the nightmare has descended, the weight is lifted from your body. You scramble backward, your hands and knees scraping against the rough ground, until you reach the sanctuary of your sleeping bag.

Looking up, you are met with the imposing figure of a large, rugged man. His rifle is still smoking from the shot that has saved your life. His eyes, hard and suspicious, bore into you as he demands, "You bit?”

Your hands shoot up in surrender, tears threatening to spill as you vehemently shake your head. "Please don't shoot, I- I wasn't bit," you plead, your voice quivering with fear.

The man nudges his gun towards you, his voice gruff as he commands, "Get up slowly."

You rise to your feet, hands still raised, and perform a slow pirouette to prove your uninfected state. Satisfied, he lowers his weapon.

"I totally could have done that," a smaller, younger girl boasts as she steps out from behind him. His daughter, you presume, exudes a mix of bravado and youthful naivety. 

"I told you to stay in the woods," He chides her.

The girl ignores her father's reprimand, instead, bounding over to your belongings. "No fucking way!" she exclaims, holding up a book that clearly means something to you. "No Pun Intended - the first volume." She chuckles, turning to the burly man. "Can you believe it?"

You rush over, snatching the book from her hands. "That was my -" Emotion chokes your words as you clutch the book, a tangible piece of your past. "It was my sister's," you manage to say, hastily stowing the book in your bag.

The man surveys your camp, his expression a mix of concern and disapproval. "Ya know it ain't safe to be camping out in the open like this," he remarks. You follow his gaze, taking in the vulnerability of your setup, and release a heavy sigh. "I - I know. There used to be more of us - a group. We traveled together, always finding safer places to go. But now - now I'm on my own, alone and..." Your voice trails off as you turn away, taking a seat by the dwindling fire. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. I'm not gonna survive too long out here alone. It's only a matter of time. If you weren't here, I'd have been dead already. But thank you for your help. Help yourselves to some food, I don't have much else to offer you."

Abruptly, the girl's head bobs up, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Come with us, oh yeah, it's going to be a blast. Finally, another girl around here!" Her voice rings out with a mix of eagerness and camaraderie.

"Ellie, quiet!" the man snaps, then pinches the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb, a clear sign of mounting frustration. "We don't have the space for anyone else."

You stand by, a silent observer, as the man and his daughter, Ellie, butt heads over the possibility of taking you with them.

"You're just going to leave her here alone," Ellie emphasizes, her voice sharp as a knife, "to die? Come on, Joel." Her plea hangs in the air, reminiscent of someone who's just found a stray puppy and can't bear to leave it behind.

Joel's gaze flickers to you as if searching for a reason to abandon you. He heaves a sigh so heavy it seems to carry the weight of the world. He turns back to Ellie, frustration etched on his face, then looks at you once more. "You have five minutes to pack your things, and then we're leavin’. With or without you." With that, he strides off into the thicket of trees, leaving Ellie behind with a look that speaks volumes of his exasperation.

"Sorry, he's not always so grumpy... well, actually, he is," Ellie admits with a sheepish grin. "Don't mind Joel; he's just set in his ways. I'm Ellie, by the way."

You can't help but giggle, kneeling down to gather your belongings. "It's nice to meet you, Ellie," you say, your voice tinged with a mix of relief and curiosity. "But why do you call your dad by his name?"

"I ain't her dad," Joel's voice cuts in, as he reemerges leading a horse by the reins.

"He's not my dad," they echo each other, their voices intertwining in a strange harmony.

"Oh," you reply, hurriedly stuffing your meager possessions into your sister's old backpack—a white and black checkered bag adorned with random sunflowers. You hoist the thick black straps over your shoulders and roll up your sleeping bag, tucking it under your arm. Rising to your feet, you dust off your flared blue jeans. "Sorry, I could have sworn you two were related, the way you bicker like that."

Ellie nudges Joel with her elbow, a playful smirk on her face. "It's just Joel. He's old and cranky."

Joel stands there, stoic and unamused, the reins held firmly in his grip. "Need to find shelter before nightfall," he declares, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Why can't we just stay here?" You ask, genuine curiosity lacing your words.

"The fact that you almost got killed by one of those things, and you couldn't even hear it creeping up on you, should make it pretty damn clear why not," Joel retorts, his voice rising as he gesticulates wildly, emphasizing the danger lurking in the shadows.

"Be fucking nice, Joel!" Ellie interjects, smacking his arm with back of her hand.

"I am being very nice by lettin’ her come with us. Now why ain’t we movin’?" he asks.

"I have no idea where we're going, lead the way, cowboy." 

"Actually, Joel was a contractor before this, super cool, right?"

You can't help but laugh. "Yeah, totally."

"What's so funny?" Joel asks, his brow furrowing as the three of you begin to navigate the rugged terrain.

"You actually managed to make being a contractor sound like the epitome of cool to young Ellie here?"

Joel's patience wears thin. "Can we all just keep quiet until we find a place to hole up for the night?"

Ellie clears her throat, her curiosity piqued. "So, what's the story with your group?"

"Ellie, you don't go asking people you just met that stuff." Joel snapped. 

You let out a soft chuckle, the memory of your past still vivid. "It's alright. My sister got bitten. I had to...you know, in the middle of the night." The weight of that memory tugs at your heartstrings. "My husband and son, Ethan, they were killed by raiders who tried to overrun our camp. They took me captive, but I managed to escape. And now, here I am." You pause, the chilling recollection making you shudder. You shake off the dark thoughts, not wanting to dwell on them now.

Ellie offers a sympathetic smile, and you catch the hint of one on Joel's face too. "That's rough. I'm really sorry that happened to you," Ellie says, her voice gentle.

"Thanks, Ellie," you murmur, your gaze falling to your boots, a mix of gratitude and embarrassment washing over you.

You look up at Joel, who seems to be wrestling with his own thoughts. "So, where are we actually heading?"

He takes a moment, staring off into the distance before heaving a sigh and meeting your eyes. "My brother and his wife are part of a large group just north of here. We can make it there. It's not far—a couple of days' travel at most."

"We should find a spot to camp soon. It's getting dark," Joel suggests, scanning the surroundings.

With the three of you working in unison, the camp comes together quickly in the shelter of the woods, hidden from any unwelcome eyes.

"Wanna get the fire going?" Joel asks, kneeling on the ground and rummaging through his bag. He extends his hand to you, offering a small amount of kindling and a pack of matches.

"Uh, sure," you reply, your voice tinged with uncertainty. The truth is, you're still pretty green in this post-apocalyptic world, and tasks like starting a fire are always more challenging than they seem.

You step forward and accept the kindling and matches from Joel, then set to work. Carefully, you arrange the kindling, trying to remember the techniques you've been taught. You strike the first match, the flame flickering to life. With trembling hands, you bring it close to the kindling, only for the wind to snuff it out.

"Shit," you mutter, hoping no one noticed. You try again, but the result is the same. On the third attempt, you realize Joel has been observing you all along. Each failed attempt makes him wince. Finally, on the fourth match, he's seen enough.

Joel stands abruptly and strides over to you. He takes the matches and kindling from your hands and, in one swift motion, ignites the fire. "Just go set up your sleeping bag," he says, a sigh of exasperation escaping him as he avoids your gaze. The sting of being a burden weighs heavily on you.

You rise slowly and move toward your sleeping bag and backpack, which are nestled beside a tree just off to the side of where Joel and Ellie are sitting. You drag your things closer to the newly lit fire and spread out your sleeping bag. As you search through your bag, you pull out a small handgun and begin to load it.

"Whoa, cool!" Ellie exclaims, bounding over to you and eyeing the gun with interest.

"It was my husband's," you tell her as you finish loading the weapon. "I'm going to get us something to eat." With your bag slung over your shoulder, you head toward the edge of the camp. But before you can leave, a hand grips your upper arm, halting your progress.

You turn to face Joel's frustrated expression. "No, absolutely not. You can't even start a damn fire. How are you going to shoot us something to eat?" he challenges.

You pull your arm free, determination flashing in your eyes. "I can handle it myself. I did fine before you came along, and I'll do fine after you're gone." You resume your course, but Joel isn't done yet.

"I'm not letting you go out there alone. I saved you once; you don't get another chance," he calls after you.

You turn back, extracting your arm from his grasp for the last time. "I didn't ask for your saving or help. You have no obligations to me. Thank you for saving me once, but I don't need it again." With that, you continue into the dense woods, leaving Joel standing there, conflicted. He returns to the camp, muttering to himself, "Fuck sakes. You stay here. Don't fucking move. I'm not in the mood to save two of you today." He grabs his rifle and follows you into the woods, the setting sun casting long shadows across the forest floor.

A few moments later, he hears your gun go off, and panic starts to seize him.

After about five minutes, he finds you huddled over something, "What the hell? You can't just go shooting your gun off like that. Raiders, fucking infected, someone's gonna find us." His voice is laced with urgency.

As he approaches, he sees you covered in blood, and fear races through him. But then he realizes it's not your blood. You've actually killed a deer.

You turn around to see Joel standing near you, his expression a mix of relief and irritation.

"So now what? You even know how to skin it?" Joel challenges.

You shake your head, "No."

"What was your plan then? To just try and drag it by yourself back to camp?" He's exasperated, but there's a hint of concern beneath his gruff exterior.

You shrug, admitting your inexperience. You've always known you're not very good at hunting, but the desire to contribute, to ensure a decent meal tonight, drove you to try.

"Come on, I'll teach you," Joel says, resignation in his voice. He shows you how to skin and butcher the deer, his frustration still evident. It's clear he resents the extra burden you represent. 

After you've all eaten your fill and packed away the rest for tomorrow, you and Ellie crawl into your sleeping bags, while Joel takes the first watch.

—

In the dead of night, a sound pierces through the silence, and you jolt awake. You see Joel leaning against a tree, his vigilance unwavering. As you approach, you offer, "Here, let me take over. Get some rest."

He turns to meet your gaze, "No. I don't know you, can't trust you."

"I don't know you either, and I trusted you to keep me safe," you rebut. 

"I think saving you before I even knew you is proof enough of my trustworthiness. You've done nothing but add extra work for me since I've been here. I'm not lettin’ you keep watch. You couldn't even hear the damn thing when it was close." Joel's frustration is palpable.

Your eyes narrow as you step into Joel's space, "Fuck you, Joel. I never asked for your help. If you want me to leave, then tell me to leave, and I'll go." Despite barely knowing the man, his words sting.

Joel rolls his eyes, a silent admission of the care he feels for you, a care he'd never voice. His tough exterior belies a growing attachment, one that complicates his solitary existence. He avoids looking at you, his gaze skittering away whenever your eyes meet. "Go to bed, please. I've got this," he says, his voice a low rumble. Joel doesn't turn his attention to you until you retreat to your sleeping bag, where you curl up, seeking warmth and comfort. As you drift off to sleep, he watches over you, a silent sentinel in the quiet night. There's a palpable sense of relief that washes over him when you finally succumb to sleep.

The next morning, the sound of footsteps rouses you from your slumber. You blink against the bright morning light, using your arm as a shield. Rolling over, you're greeted by the sight of Joel's back; he's crouched, presumably packing his bag for the journey ahead. The remnants of sleep slowly clear from your mind as you extricate yourself from the sleeping bag and roll it up. To your right, Ellie lies fast asleep, her soft snores a gentle backdrop to the morning.

You leave Ellie to her dreams and approach Joel. He's focused on his pack, his shirt inching up to reveal the taut skin of his lower back. You catch yourself staring and quickly bite your lip, a futile attempt to redirect your thoughts.

Attraction? No, that's not it. He's infuriating, self-centered, and yet here you are, sharing this strange journey with him and Ellie, who might as well be his daughter.

Joel looks up, his eyes betraying a deep exhaustion that seems to have settled into his very bones. "We're leaving once the sun's up. Make sure you're ready. We'll cover more than half the distance by nightfall," he informs you, rising to his feet and hoisting his pack over his shoulder.

You find yourself captivated by his deep brown eyes, noticing for the first time the kindness hidden beneath his gruff exterior. A silent exchange passes between you, a moment of unspoken understanding, before Joel clears his throat and breaks the connection, turning his attention to the horse.

The tension in the air is almost tangible as you both look away. Once Joel has secured everything onto the horse except for Ellie, he gently wakes her.

The three of you fall into a rhythm, traversing the desolate landscape. The day stretches on, filled with endless walking. As the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows across the land, fatigue sets in. But Joel, ever perceptive, anticipates your need for rest.

"There should be a town up this road," he says. "We can find an old house to spend the night. No need for watches tonight; we all could use some proper sleep."

As night falls, Joel guides the horse with practiced ease over the unforgiving terrain. Before long, a small farmhouse emerges from the twilight, its isolation suggesting it's been long abandoned.

Ellie's voice cuts through the stillness. "Is this the town you were talking about? It's tiny, Joel. There's barely a house here."

Joel just chuckles, a soft sound that carries the weight of countless stories and experiences. "Sometimes, the best places are the ones that are hardest to find."

The three of you brace yourselves for the night, the assurance of safety and rest offering a much-needed refuge from the relentless challenges of your travels.

"This isn't the town, but it's likely safer to camp here. Raiders might be patrolling near the town. Now go inside and get settled, Ellie, help me with the horse."

You move silently into the house, scouting for a suitable spot to bed down for the night.

Ellie and Joel lead the horse towards the barn at the back.

"So, you planning to make a move, lover boy?" Ellie abruptly inquires, her voice laced with playful mischief.

Joel's eyes narrow in confusion, "What?"

"Ugh, it's so clear you two are head over heels for each other. It's adorable how you bicker." She giggles, mimicking air kisses.

Joel dismisses her with a shake of his head, "Mind your own business, would you?"

"So it is true! You like her... ha! I knew it. Can't wait to spill the beans."

Joel's eyes widen with a hint of panic as he secures the horse to a post, "Ellie! Cut it out, this isn't the time for matchmaking. I'm not in love. I wouldn't bat an eye if she left."

Ellie smirks, her eyes gleaming with a devious spark. "Oh Joel, dumb dumb Joel. Don't worry, I'll help you out." 

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing, "Ellie, please, just drop it, head inside. I'll be there shortly. And don't say a word to her!"

By the time he finishes, Ellie is already darting back to the house.

Upon entering, you're arranging an old, grimy mattress when Ellie bursts in.

"Hey, lucky for us, there's another mattress upstairs. I figured we could each -"

Before you can finish, Ellie dashes up the stairs, calling out, "I'll take this one!" She pauses at the top, looking back, "And tell Joel I'm really upset with him and I don't want to talk."

Perplexed, you try to stop her, but she's already disappeared, the door shut behind her.

As the door closes, Joel steps in, and you turn to face him, "What happened with Ellie?"

Joel looks up, puzzled, as he sets his gear aside, "What do you mean?"

"She just bolted upstairs, saying she's upset and doesn't want to talk to you."

"She's a kid, I don't know. So this is the only bed then?" 

"Well, you must have done something to upset her. She dashed upstairs and staked her claim on the other mattress."

The realization dawns on Joel. "Goddammit, Ellie! Get down here now!" he yells, but his call is met with silence. He races up the staircase to the closed door, pounding on it. "Ellie, come out here. We need to talk."

"No! I'm not talking to you. I locked the door, you can't come in," her voice is muffled but defiant. Joel continues to pound on the door. "Ellie, get out here."

"I can't hear you..." Ellie's voice trails off, barely audible.

Frustrated, Joel descends the stairs, his gaze shifting between the bed and you. "You can have the bed. I'll just crash on the floor in one of the sleeping bags."

You raise your eyebrows, surprised by his offer. "Just get in the damn bed, Joel. We're two grown adults; we can share a bed for one night, can't we?"

He looks like he's about to argue but then relents. "Fine... whatever." He grabs a sleeping bag from his pack and tosses it onto the bed. You slip under the covers, turning away from him. As Joel settles down to sleep, the room falls silent.

After a few minutes, you hear him chuckle softly to himself.

"What's so funny?" You turn to face him, a hint of irritation in your voice.

"Nothin’, just thinkin’," he replies, the chuckle turning into a full-blown laugh.

You sigh and turn back around, but his laughter is infectious. "Seriously, Joel, if you don't stop, I'm going to punch you in the face." You turn to face him again, trying to suppress a smile.

"It's Ellie," he says, the laughter subsiding. "I know why she's upset."

"Then why aren't you talking to her about it?" you ask, curiosity piqued.

He studies you for a moment, his gaze intense. "It ain't that simple. She thinks she's doin’ us a favor by making us share a bed."

Your cheeks flush with warmth. "Oh."

"So I guess that means it's your fault," he teases, a smirk playing on his lips. The atmosphere shifts, becoming both more relaxed and more charged at the same time.

"How is it my fault?" you challenge, playing along with his playful tone.

"If I didn't have to keep saving your ass, we wouldn't be in this situation," he jabs, his tone light and teasing.

"I think you owe me, if anything, for that deer I killed," you retort, a small smile tugging at your lips. The tension that's been building over the past day begins to dissipate.

"Oh yeah?" he says, inching closer to you on the bed.

You swallow hard, your heart rate picking up. "Mhm, you sure owe me big time."

His eyes flicker to your lips, then back to your eyes. Suddenly, he leans in and kisses you, his hand cradling the back of your neck while the other pulls you tightly against him. The kiss is gentle and sweet, causing your thoughts to scatter as you surrender to the moment, pressing closer to him. 

 In the quiet hush of the room, you pull back slightly, your gaze meeting his. Joel's face is mere inches from yours, his eyes brimming with unspoken desire.

Nervously, you wet your lips with the tip of your tongue, whispering his name like a secret, "Joel..."

A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he slowly leans in, closing the distance between you. His forehead gently meets yours, a tender gesture that sends a shiver down your spine.

"God, I've wanted this since the moment I saw you," he confesses, his voice a low rumble that resonates deep within you.

Without warning, his hand shoots out, capturing your wrist in a firm yet gentle grip. He pulls you towards him, your bodies aligning, pressing tightly against each other.

Your lips find his again, this kiss more urgent than the last, fueled by a hunger that has been building since your first encounter. Joel's lips move against yours with a newfound intensity, his tongue exploring, claiming every inch of your mouth.

You surrender to the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips on yours. His hands begin to roam, tracing the curves of your body, eliciting a soft moan from you. The sound seems to spur him on, and he deepens the kiss even further.

You can feel the heat of his skin, the strength of his muscles beneath your hands. His grip on you is firm, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your veins. He breaks away from your mouth, his lips trailing a path of fire down your neck. His hot breath against your skin causes goosebumps to rise in its wake.

His hands slide lower, gripping your hips with a possessive intensity. Joel lifts himself off the bed, pressing his body against yours, the evidence of his arousal unmistakable.

A gasp escapes you as he grinds against you. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, while his hands explore the softness of your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. A whimper slips past your lips as he teases you with a gentle squeeze.

You can feel his smirk against your neck as he continues his descent, leaving a trail of kisses and small love bites in his wake. The sensation of being consumed by him is intoxicating, and you find yourself yearning for more, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

"Joel...please..." you beg, tugging at his shirt, eager to remove the last barrier between you.

He chuckles at the desperation in your voice, a sound that only fans the flames of your desire. His lips return to yours, and he begins to move his hips in a rhythm that matches the urgency of your kisses. Your body responds instinctively, arching against him, seeking friction.

"Ahh..." you groan as his bulge hits just the right spot, causing your body to tremble with anticipation.

"Shh... just relax. I'm going to make you feel so good," Joel whispers, his voice a promise against your ear. He quickly strips you of your shirt, tossing it aside, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

You bite your lip, your eyes fluttering closed as the sensation of his hands on your skin sends you reeling. His touch is electric, igniting a fire within you that only he can quench.

"Look at me," he commands, and your eyes snap open to meet his intense gaze. His face is a portrait of desire, his eyes dark with need, his hair tousled from your eager hands. His fingers find the hem of your pants, and he takes his time, drawing out the anticipation as he peels them off your legs.

He plants a gentle kiss on your belly, causing you to sigh with contentment. His lips continue their journey downward, and you can't help but arch your back, moaning softly as his fingertips graze your sensitive flesh. His tongue darts out, teasing you, tasting you, driving you wild with need.

The years of longing, the pent-up desire, it all comes crashing down as his tongue delves into your core. You can't hold back the moans that escape your lips, each one a testament to the pleasure he's bringing you. He continues to tease you, his hands tracing a path back up to your breasts, his fingers teasing your nipples into hard peaks.

The sensation of his mouth on you is almost too much to bear. You come undone, your body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. Joel's mouth is relentless, his lips and tongue working in unison to draw out every last ounce of your pleasure.

As you come back down to earth, your breathing slowly returning to normal, Joel pulls away, his lips glistening with the evidence of your desire. He wastes no time in shedding his own clothes, revealing the full extent of his arousal.

He positions himself at your entrance, the tip of his shaft teasing you, promising you the release you so desperately crave. And then, with one powerful thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely.

The world around you fades away as Joel sets a punishing pace, his hands gripping your hair, pulling just enough to send shivers of pleasure down your spine. You match his rhythm, your bodies moving together as one, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge.

Sweat beads on your foreheads, your chests rising and falling in sync with each other's breaths. All you can see is Joel's face above you, his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a passion that takes your breath away.

"Joel..." you whisper his name, a benediction, a plea, a promise. Your fingers thread through his hair, caressing his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingertips.

With a final, powerful thrust, Joel reaches his climax, his body shuddering against yours. You hold him close, feeling the aftershocks of his release mingle with your own.

For a moment, the only sounds are the ragged breaths filling the room and the pounding of your hearts. In this moment, there is nothing else—just you and Joel, two souls intertwined in the most intimate of dances.

You lie there, your breaths heavy as they echo in the quiet room, your gaze fixed on the ceiling above. In the stillness, the sound of your own ragged breathing mingles with Joel's intense scrutiny of your body. It's then that he notices the jagged scar marring your torso. His fingers trace its length, a silent question hanging in the air. "What happened?" he asks, his voice a mix of concern and curiosity.

The question yanks you from the serenity you'd found, hurling you into a tumultuous sea of memories. "Uh - it's nothing, just a battle wound," you reply, your voice trembling despite your attempt at nonchalance.

He looks at you, his eyes probing, seeing right through your facade. "Who did this to you?" he presses, his tone insistent.

Tears well up as you feel the rough pads of his fingers grazing your scar. You pull his hand away, sitting up on the bed's edge, turning away from him. A heavy sigh escapes you before you begin to unravel the story.

"When the raiders took over our camp, they brought me to some abandoned warehouse a few cities over. They held me there for weeks, torturing me, starving me. They left bruises everywhere. Every night before they would sleep, they would have their way with me." you confess, your voice wavering. "One night I guess I fought them a little too hard and I was awarded this fucking thing as a lovely reminder."  You gesture to the scar on your abdomen with a trembling hand.

Joel moves closer, his cool hands unexpectedly cradling your face, turning you to meet his gaze. He wipes away your tears, his eyes locked onto yours. "I'm here now, baby girl," he assures you, his voice firm with conviction. "Ain't nothing gonna happen to you like that ever again, you hear me?"

A small, sad smile tugs at your lips as he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. He then reclines on the bed, drawing you into the sanctuary of his arms. Your head finds the rhythm of his heartbeat, a comforting lullaby that resonates against your cheek. In this moment of vulnerability, you allow yourself to trust in his promises, your defenses crumbling as sleep claims you, cocooned in his embrace.

—

"I knew it!"

Suddenly, a sharp whisper slices through the silence, "I knew it!"

Joel startles awake, his heart pounding in his chest. There, at the foot of the stairs, stands Ellie, her eyes wide with the realization of the scene before her. He glances down at you, still nestled against him, and for a moment, time stands still. With a quick gesture, he signals Ellie to be quiet, his finger pressed to his lips. "Go back to bed," he commands softly.

"But I'm not tired -" Ellie protests, her voice a whisper in the dark.

"Now," Joel repeats, his whisper now a stern command. Ellie sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes, but she complies, her footsteps retreating up the stairs. "Jeez, okay, lover boy," she mutters under her breath.

Relief washes over Joel as he watches Ellie disappear from view. He turns back to you, your peaceful slumber a stark contrast to the tension that just gripped the room. He gently kisses your forehead, his whisper barely audible, "I got you, baby girl."

[thelonelyfairy]

Fractured Bonds

Chapter 2

(Toshinori x Reader x Aizawa)

Note: this chapter has about 7k words so buckle up! Also there won’t be any scenes between Toshinori and reader on this one so gather up Aizawa girlies 🫶 lastly, this chapter will contain spoilers from either season 4 or 5, you can stop reading after “the work-study program has always been…”

Update: Added a fanart of Aizawa/Reader (Yan) at the end made by the lovely @mananeez!

Masterlist Chapter 1 ch3

You finally caved in to Recovery Girl’s persistent requests to accompany Class 1-A on their USJ visit, given their frequent trips to the infirmary and avoiding more headaches on her end. Funny how fate plays out sometimes.

She had reassured you that Toshinori would be present, easing your worries about any direct interaction with your ex.

But as roll call begins and the students boarding the bus, All Might was nowhere to be found.

Sitting across from Aizawa, your nerves begin to stir in your chest. Your Kitsune picks up on it, curling in your lap and radiating warmth, calming the tension in your body.

In the back, the students laugh and bicker, showing how well they’d bonded despite Bakugo’s frequent outbursts. You tried to stifle a laugh but couldn’t hold it back.

It had been a long time since Aizawa had heard your laughter, or seen a genuine smile on your face. Far too long.

When the bus arrives at the arena, the scale of the place leaves you just as awestruck as the students. You’d never seen such a massive training center. As you all enter, Aizawa informs you that they’d be working with Thirteen, who soon briefs the students on the Unforeseen Simulation Joint and today’s focus on rescue abilities. She explains her Quirk, Black Hole. Dangerous, but capable of saving lives if handled correctly.

Once that’s all finished, Aizawa approaches Thirteen, “Let me guess, All Might booked an interview instead.”

A soft scoff leaves you before Thirteen announces the inconvenience, “Apparently he did too much hero work on the way to school this morning and used up all his power, he’s resting in the teacher’s lounge.”

Of course, you know that man well enough that he goes out of his way to care for his people, not for fame nor for money. You can already imagine him feeling guilty and helpless while Principal Nezu rambling his ass off about his philosophies.

“That man is the height of irresponsibility.” Aizawa sighs.

“Irresponsible or not, he’s still the Symbol of Peace. He’ll be back soon enough.” You counter, ex lover or not, you’ll go to the moon and back to defend Toshinori just like he did for you.

“Clock’s ticking,” Aizawa announces, disregarding your comment, “we should get started.”

Before you can dwell on it further, the air shifts, a subtle disturbance you can’t quite place. Your Kitsune leaves your body, ears twitching, sensing it as well as it growls. You glance toward Aizawa, who’s already on alert, his sharp eyes scanning the perimeter with Thirteen immediately on guard.

A dark, swirling portal materializes in the center of the USJ, figures begin to emerge—villains. Dozens of them. More than you’ve ever seen gathered in one place. The students freeze, their confusion quickly turning into fear.

“Aizawa!” you call, your voice tight with urgency.

“I see it,” he mutters, stepping forward, his scarf already unraveling as he places on his goggles.

“Stay back with the students. This is no place for you right now.” Without hesitation, he leaps forward, his capture scarf trailing behind him like a shadow.

You grit your teeth, instinctively wanting to rush forward, but you know he’s right. Your job is to protect the students first. You’re a nurse, after all. Your Kitsune begins to swirl around the students protectively as you turn toward the group of wide-eyed students.

“Let’s get to safety,” you command, ushering them toward the back exit, your voice calm despite the chaos around you.

The portal continues to spew out villains, and you can see Aizawa already in motion, darting into the fray. He’s a blur of calculated strikes, his scarf snapping out like a whip, disabling the quirks of those who dare get too close. But the numbers are overwhelming, and even Aizawa, as skilled as he is, can only handle so much at once.

“It’s locked!” Thirteen calls out, as you try to budge with your Kitsune’s strength, all but no hope.

A sickening sound cuts through the air. You whip around, your blood turning cold. Aizawa, mid-battle, is slammed to the ground by multiple villains. He struggles to get up, his scarf moving about to throw them unconscious as blood drips from his forehead, staining the ground beneath him.

Your heart stops. He’s injured. Badly.

You freeze, torn between staying with the students and rushing to Aizawa’s side. The instinct to protect him overwhelms you, but you can’t just leave these kids defenseless.

Panic claws at you from all sides, what are you supposed to do? Save Aizawa, or stay here and protect the students like you promised?

"Fox Face!" Thirteen's voice slices through your spiraling thoughts, her hand firm on your shoulder, her tone calm yet urgent. "Go. I’ve got things here. The students are safe with me, and we trust you—you were All Might’s sidekick after all." Her words hang in the air as the students nod in agreement, their eyes wide with a mix of fear and trust.

You hesitate for just a second, but Thirteen’s steady gaze holds yours. "He needs you."

That’s all it takes.

Without a second thought, your Kitsune retreats back to your body, its strength surges through you, its aura radiating from your body, your eyes glowing as your iris turns into slits. As you teleport straight to Aizawa’s side. The world blurs, and you appear in a swirl of glowing sakura blossoms, kunai ready.

Aizawa flinches as the pain in his body suddenly begins to ease. Bruises and cuts start to repair, your healing ofudas floating toward him, their energy absorbed into his skin. The warmth floods through his muscles, easing his exhaustion like a switch had been flipped—but that relief is quickly replaced by something sharper, anger.

"What the hell are you doing?" he snaps, his voice harsh as he pushes himself up, locking eyes with you from behind his goggles. "I told you to stay back with the students!"

"How are you supposed to fight if you’re injured?" you counter, approaching as you’re unfazed by his outburst, raising your hand to heal a cut on his brow.

"I’m fine," he growls, swatting away your hand. "You should’ve stayed with the kids. This isn’t—"

Before he can finish, a villain charges at you both. Reacting on instinct, you wrap your arms around Aizawa—feeling unexpected muscle beneath his dark uniform—before teleporting the two of you a few meters away in a flash of light. The villain stumbles in confusion, giving Aizawa the perfect opening. He regains his footing, whipping his scarf out to disarm the enemy and bring them down with brutal efficiency.

But his scowl remains.

"You’re reckless," he mutters as the fight continues, frustration lacing his words.

"And you’re stubborn," you shoot back, pulling a kunai strapped from your thigh and throwing it with precision, hitting another villain dead-on. "We’re a team. I’m not letting you face this alone."

Aizawa’s eyes narrow beneath his goggles, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, you both fall into a familiar rhythm, your movements perfectly in sync. You teleport into the fray, kunai slicing through the air with lethal accuracy, powered by your Kitsune’s spirit. Aizawa stays close, his scarf whipping through the chaos, disabling any villains who try to flank you.

It’s almost like old times—each of your moves complementing the other, his reflexes sharpening your attacks while you provide support and healing when needed.

But beneath the surface, Aizawa’s frustration simmers, it’s practically in the air, you know the conversation isn’t far from over.

As you glance toward the edge of the arena, your eyes lock onto a strange trio standing near the center of the USJ. One man appears to have no physical form, swirling with the same dark color as the portal that brought the villains into the facility. Beside him stands a beast, assuming to wield a mutation quirk, and the third—a white-haired man—observing the battle with a chilling detachment.

Whoever they are, they’re not just bystanders.

“Nomu…”

The voice catches you off guard—unexpectedly high-pitched, especially coming from the white-haired man whose intimidating physique suggests something much deeper. His red-rimmed eyes lock onto yours, and for a brief moment, everything else fades into the background. The battle, the noise, the chaos—it all blurs, and you’re left staring into the void that seems to echo within him.

Your breath catches as something deep inside you stirs, a pressure inside your chest that twists uncomfortably, almost suffocating, as if an invisible chain is tightening around you. Your Kitsune spirit trembles, and for the first time, you feel its power falter. Panic flickers in your veins, but you force it down, refusing to let him see your fear.

Your fingers twitch at your kunai, instinct urging you to move, to do something, but you’re frozen—eyes locked with his. He takes a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours.

The man tilts his head, his eyes narrowing slightly as a twisted smile hinted beneath the decaying hand covering the lower half of his face.

"Her."

The Nomu lunges, unleashing its power against you.

Aizawa panicked, quickly throwing off the villains that were pinning him down and sprinting to your side. You'd only ever stopped Toshinori's full strength once, and even then, you weren't sure if he was using everything he had. But one thing was clear is this beast, this Nomu, is at least as strong as Toshinori, if not more so.

Your feet barely touches the ground as Nomu's iron grip closes around your neck, squeezing the air from your lungs.

Your feet barely touched the ground as Nomu's iron grip closed around your neck, squeezing the air from your lungs. The Kitsune inside you fought to keep you conscious, but the lack of oxygen was making your vision blur.

The Nomu hurls you into the corner, near the water of the shipwreck, its gaze locking onto yours as you struggle to catch your breath. Before you can react, it wraps your wrists in one of its massive hands and starts dragging you toward the white haired man. You curse under your breath, teleporting was impossible with its grip on you.

"Aren't you going to save your little friend, EraserHead?" The man's voice remains disturbingly calm.

Without hesitation, Aizawa charges forward, the man doing the same.

Aizawa lands a sharp elbow to the man's stomach, but the villain swiftly grabs his arm in a tight grip.

You can't hear their exchange, only the sickening sound of skin decaying and Aizawa's pained gasp.

“Fox Face!” Aizawa shouts, shoving the villain aside with force as he sees your eyes close, your head slumping forward as the Nomu releases its hold on you. Your body collapses to the ground, unconscious.

“By the way…” the Nomu moves to stand beside its master. For the first time since his school days, Aizawa’s body freezes, paralyzed, unable to tell if you’re still breathing.

“I am not the final boss.”

The Nomu lands a brutal hit, leaving Aizawa’s goggles in the air, his blood pooling around, painting the ground crimson as the Nomu begins to grab a fistful of his hair, smashing his face to the ground over and over.

"Oh, before we go, let’s make sure the Symbol of Peace is shattered," the man’s red eyes lock onto your still body.

His hand moves toward you, deliberately slow, each finger stretching out as it inches closer to the top of your head, ready to make contact with all five fingers. He could already see it, the decay of All Might’s previous sidekick, presumed lover, all in ashes. Nothing.

But none came.

The man chuckles, “You really are so cool.”

With all of his might, Aizawa lifts his head, his blood spilling on his face as the cluster of veins and redness of his eyes holds you in place. Breathing or not, he can’t fathom the idea of you out of his existence.

Many years ago

The first day at U.A. High School was a whirlwind, with you still adjusting to your new classmates. You stood beside your brother, Oboro Shirakumo, who was already chatting with two students. As always, Shirakumo’s bright personality drew people in, while you kept more to yourself, quietly observing.

"Hey! This is my sister, Yan!" Shirakumo suddenly announced, pulling you into the conversation as he introduced you to the two classmates, Hizashi and Nemuri. The unexpected attention made you flinch slightly. "She’s gonna wipe the floor with all of you, just watch!" His grin earned a chuckle from Hizashi, while Nemuri raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Nice to meet you!" Nemuri said playfully. "I’ll believe it when I see it."

You laughed lightly, still unaccustomed to the spotlight. Before you could respond, your gaze was drawn to a student standing off to the side. He was tall, quiet, with shaggy black hair partially covering his face. His arms were crossed, and he seemed disinterested in the lively conversation unfolding nearby.

"That’s Aizawa," Shirakumo leaned over, noticing your wandering eyes. "He’s a bit quiet, but he’s sharp. Really smart."

As if sensing the conversation, Aizawa glanced in your direction. You quickly looked away, but not before noticing the intrigue in his eyes.

A few months into the school year, you headed towards training grounds on your own, bathed in the fading light of the setting sun. Most students had gone home, but you remained, practicing your kunai throws. Each one hit the bullseye, but something felt off. No matter how perfect the throws were, they didn’t feel right.

"You're overthinking it."

Startled, you turned sharply, cursing yourself for not noticing Aizawa standing by the fence. He leaned against it, arms crossed, as silent and unreadable as ever.

"What do you mean?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He hops over with no trouble as he approaches slowly, his footsteps deliberate. "Your movements are stiff. You’re second-guessing every throw." His voice was calm and matter-of-fact, though not harsh.

You huffed, glancing back at the target. “Alright then, what do I need to work on?”

Aizawa stepped closer, his presence oddly calming despite his usual stoic demeanor. “Don’t think. Just throw.”

You hesitated, feeling an unexpected flutter in your chest. His gaze was sincere, and there was a softness in his expression you hadn’t noticed before. With a deep breath, you pushed away your nerves, refocused on the target, and let the kunai fly.

The blade sailed through the air and struck dead center.

Aizawa gave a small nod. “See? You’re better when you trust yourself.”

"Guess I owe you one," you said, half-joking but grateful.

Aizawa shrugged, his usual stoic air returning, though there was a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Just don’t overdo it. You’ve been pushing yourself too hard about that hero work study.”

As the sunlight bathed the training field, you noticed how it caught Aizawa’s features—the sharp angles of his face, his dark hair falling messily over his eyes. In that moment, he was no longer just your classmate or your brother’s best friend. There was something more, something that made your heart race in a way you hadn’t expected.

His eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and you thought you saw a flicker of warmth in his usual cool gaze.

"Good luck with that," he added, his tone softer than usual, almost teasing.

Aizawa turned to leave, a small, rare smile crossed Aizawa’s face as he disappeared from view, leaving you standing there with a sense that something between you had shifted.

In the second year, the U.A. training grounds buzzed with activity as students prepared for their now-mandatory hero work studies. Amid the hustle, Aizawa stood apart, a frown creasing his brow as doubt clouded his thoughts. Watching his classmates give their all, he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling of not measuring up. The weight of expectations sat heavily on him, and the thought of failure gnawed at his confidence.

“Hey,” you called, approaching more quicker as you note the tension in his posture. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Aizawa glanced at you, frustration and embarrassment flickering across his face as he gently pushed away your healing ofudas. “I don’t know if I’m cut out for this mandatory work study. Everyone else seems to have it figured out.”

“You’re an amazing hero, Aizawa. Don’t let self-doubt trip you up. You just need to train harder and trust yourself.”

He shrugged, avoiding eye contact. “It’s not that simple, and your overly cheery advice isn’t exactly helping.”

“Well, let’s train together, then,” you offered, brushing off his cold response with determination shining in your eyes. “I owed you one from last time anyways.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You really think I need help?”

“Everyone needs help sometimes,” you shrug.

After a moment of hesitation, Aizawa nodded, and the two of you moved to a quieter section of the training grounds that already had a series of obstacles placed around, demonstrating your agility with the Kitsune energy swirling around you, leaping, dodging, and striking with precision. Aizawa watched closely, studying every movement as you flawlessly navigated the course.

“Your turn,” you said, stepping aside to give him space. “Focus on agility and timing. Don’t let your quirk limit you.”

With a deep sigh, Aizawa stepped forward, determined to overcome his doubts. He began working through the obstacles, his performance mixed with moments of success and frustration. Each misstep weighed on him, feeding the sense of pressure.

“Don’t let your mind get in the way. Trust your instincts.”

Taking a deep breath, he tried again, concentrating harder. Slowly, with each attempt, he began to improve, but the doubts still lingered. He glanced your way, seeing nothing but encouragement in your eyes.

“You’re doing great!” you cheered, your enthusiasm lifting his spirits.

Fueled by your support, Aizawa pushed himself harder. The obstacles seemed less intimidating, and with every completed run, he felt his confidence build.

“Now try using your quirk!” you encouraged.

He nodded, activating his quirk, his hair lifting as his eyes glowed red with his scarf extended, helping him move through the course more fluidly. The challenge increased, but so did his sense of accomplishment.

“See? You’ve got this!” you called, clapping your hands in excitement. “All you needed was to believe in yourself!”

Breathing heavily, Aizawa finally stopped, a rare smile breaking through his stoic exterior as blinks, his hair fell forward to mask it. “I think I’m starting to get the hang of it,” he said, a quiet pride settling in.

You approached him, beaming. “I knew you could do it! Just remember, you don’t have to shoulder everything on your own.”

The moon hung low in the sky, bathing the quiet streets of Musutafu in a soft, silvery glow. As you walked toward your family’s apartment, your mind wandered after a long day at U.A. Absentmindedly, you kicked a pebble down the dimly lit alleyways, your Kitsune spirit lazily trailing behind.

Passing a narrow alley, your Kitsune suddenly turned, drawn by something. You followed its gaze and froze. There, slumped against a wall wrapped in his familiar capture weapon, was Aizawa. His dark hair obscured his face, and his sharp eyes were closed in exhausted sleep. His chest rose and fell steadily, but the scene was far from peaceful.

You stood still, staring in disbelief as your Kitsune spirit retreated back into your body. “Aizawa?” you whispered, the sight of him sleeping in an alley catching you off guard.

The realization hit hard. You knew Aizawa well enough to understand his desire to keep things private, but this? You had no idea it had gotten this bad. He always seemed so self-reliant, never asking for help, yet here he was, sleeping in an alleyway, leaving your heart dropping to your stomach.

You crouched beside him, hesitant, your hand hovering before pulling it back. "Aizawa," you whispered again, this time softer.

He stirred, his eyes fluttering open. Groggily, he squinted up at you. "Yan?" His voice was barely audible.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, though the answer was painfully clear. “You’re… sleeping here?”

He sat up slowly, running a hand through his disheveled hair, clearly uncomfortable. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, avoiding your gaze. “Just… had nowhere to go tonight.”

Your chest tightened at his admission. “How long has this been going on?” you asked gently, trying not to push too hard.

Aizawa shrugged, his usual stoic demeanor cracking. “A while,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll manage.”

“Manage?” you echoed in disbelief. “Aizawa, you’re sleeping in an alley. This is not okay.”

He fell silent, staring at the ground. You could tell he hated this—hated the vulnerability, the pity. No wonder he’d been dozing off in class so much recently.

Without hesitation, you stood and offered him a hand. “Come on,” you said firmly.

“What?” Aizawa frowned, confused.

“You’re not staying here. You’re coming with me. You can sleep at my place.”

He hesitated, concern flickering in his eyes. “Yan, I can’t—”

“I’m not giving you a choice,” you interrupted, leaving no room for debate. “You can sneak into my room through the window. No one will know, not even Oboro—he’s always glued to his computer all night. You can stay as long as you need.”

Aizawa stared at you, torn. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden,” you reassured him, your voice softening. “We’re friends, right? What did I say last time? You don’t have to shoulder everything alone.”

He sighed, exhaustion winning out over his pride. “If you’re sure…”

“I’m sure,” you smiled. “And don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me.”

After a moment, he reluctantly took your hand. You bit back a cringe as you helped him to his feet. “Thanks,” he muttered, his gratitude quiet but genuine.

“Anytime,” you reassured, already planning out how to sneak him in unnoticed.

As the two of you made your way back to your apartment, you kept glancing at him, your heart heavy for the boy who carried more than anyone realized.

When you reached the fire escape, your Kitsune lowered the ladder with ease, and soon, you were both standing outside your window.

“Take off your clothes,”

Aizawa blinked, stunned. “Wh—?”

“Not like that!” you spoke in a low enough for him to hear, “You were sleeping in an alley. I don’t want all that in my room!” You kicked off your shoes, placing it at the fire escape balcony you’re both on and slid open the window, relieved that your mother did not lock it this time.

He chuckled, remembering your slight germaphobia from class. He quickly shed his outer clothes, folding them at the other end of the balcony along with his capture weapon, leaving only his undergarments as you instructed.

“I’ll get the shower ready,” you inform as you head toward the bathroom, your bathroom.

Aizawa couldn’t help but notice how different your lifestyle was—quietly wealthy but never flaunted. The Shirakumo family definitely raised both you and Oboro well, something he wished his own family would’ve done.

You motioned for him to follow, “There’s a fresh towel and some unused toiletries over there…” He glanced around, noticing the pink, white, and floral décor—completely opposite of his usual style.

“The soap and shampoo are floral-scented too,” you added with a slight apology. “So, you might end up smelling kind of...girly. Hope that’s okay.”

He chuckled softly. “I don’t mind. Thanks for everything.”

You left him to his privacy and went to grab some blankets and pillows, hoping he wouldn’t mind what you had. Mentally, you made a note to pick up something more suited to his taste tomorrow after school.

After his quick shower, wrapped in floral-scented towels, he settled near your bed, sinking into the plush pillows and blankets you’d laid out for him.

As you handed him a blanket to pull himself over, your hands brushed for a brief second. You face reddens while Aizawa allowed himself a small, grateful smile in return, hopefully he’ll like this one more than the others.

“Hello Kitty?”

You sigh, before you can apologize, he asks, “Wait, who's this one?”

“Ah that’s Chococat!” Your voice still hushed, “he’s a quiet cat, of course you’d like him,”

Aizawa released a soft chuckle, “Thanks, Yan,”

“Of course, Aizawa,” you replied, settling into bed yourself.

“Shouta,” he corrected, his voice gentle. “Call me Shouta from now on.”

Your eyes widened at the request, but before you could respond, he had already pulled the blanket over himself, the exhaustion finally winning over. For the first time in a long while, he looked at ease. As you settled into bed, you made a quiet promise to always be there for him, no matter what.

The night was quiet, the faint rustling of leaves outside barely breaking the stillness as Shouta lay in the dark, wrapped in the Chococat blanket you’d given him with a matching pajama that you bought, he offered a quiet thanks, when deep down he grew fond of the black cartoon cat. Months had passed since the incident, and he stared at the ceiling of your small room, exhaustion sinking deep into his bones. It had been a long day—made longer by the clear realization that you had sneaked him into your home, offering a kindness he wasn’t sure he deserved.

He absentmindedly flipped through his English book, one with a romance theme, occasionally thinking about words to describe you. Yet, ‘beautiful’ just didn’t seem to cut it.

But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t find the right words. What you meant to him, how he felt for you—there were no terms that fit. Maybe it was a failure of the English language, or maybe it was just him struggling to understand his own feelings.

No one had ever taught Shouta how to love. He’d never planned to, not until he met you.

What he did know was that you were captivating in every way, and it was becoming increasingly hard to focus on the pages in front of him.

Just as he was about to give up, a sound broke through the silence—soft, but unmistakable.

You stirred restlessly in your bed, your breaths uneven and ragged, and Shouta immediately sat up, his senses alert.

"Yan?" he whispered, concern laced in his voice.

You didn’t answer. Your face was twisted with distress as your body tense, trapped in a nightmare. Another whimper escaped your lips as you shifted under the covers, bracing yourself against some unseen terror.

Shouta hesitated. He wasn’t good at comforting people. But seeing you like this, his instincts took over. After all you’d done for him—giving him a place to stay, helping with his hero work studies—this was the least he could do.

He got up from his makeshift bed and quietly approached yours. “Yan,” he called softly, gently placing a hand on your arm, giving you a light shake. "It’s not real, wake up."

Your eyes shot open suddenly, your breath catching in your throat as you sat upright. For a moment, you seemed lost, your gaze unfocused, until you finally registered where you were—and who was beside you.

“Shouta?” you gaze up, your voice hoarse from the remnants of the nightmare.

"Yeah," he replied softly, his hand still on your arm. "You were having a nightmare."

You exhaled shakily, trying to compose yourself. "I’m sorry," you muttered, your voice trembling. "I didn’t mean to wake you."

"You didn’t," he assured you. "You’re alright?"

You nodded, though the trembling in your hands said otherwise. You were trying to hide it, but Shouta could see how much the nightmare had shaken you.

After a pause, he gently slid his hand away. “Do you… want to talk about it?"

You shook your head, your shoulders slumping. "No, it’s the same as always. They come and go."

Shouta remained silent, eyes downcast. He knew what it was like to not want to talk about things, so he didn’t push. But something inside him urged him to offer more.

“Move over,” he said quietly, before he could second-guess himself.

You blinked, taken aback. “What?”

He glanced at the narrow space on your bed. “Just… move over.”

Though surprised, you shifted to make room. Shouta climbed in beside you, lying on his back and pulling the blanket over the both of you. He didn’t say anything more, but his presence spoke volume.

You looked over at him, still shaken but feeling comforted by the quiet gesture. “You don’t have to—”

“I know,” he interrupted, his voice steady. “But I’m here.”

For a while, neither of you spoke. The room was quiet, save for the distant hum of the city. Slowly, your breathing steadied, the nightmare’s grip loosening with Shouta’s presence beside you. You found yourself watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest, his calmness grounding you.

“Thank you,” you whispered, barely audible.

Shouta didn’t reply, but you felt him shift a little closer, his arm brushing yours in a simple yet comforting touch. He wasn’t one for flowery words, but his actions were louder than anything he could say.

With him beside you, your eyes began to grow heavy again. For the first time in a while, you felt truly safe—as if your nightmares couldn’t reach you with Shouta there.

Just before you drifted off, you whispered, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Shouta lowered his gaze, his expression softening as he watched the peacefulness return to your face. “Me too,”

The U.A. School Festival was in full swing, and Class 2-A had chosen to put on a theatrical performance as their contribution. They all agreed a play would be the perfect way to showcase their quirks while providing some lighthearted entertainment. The theme? A dramatic fantasy adventure—complete with a brave knight, a cunning sorceress, a wise king, and, Shouta, much to his reluctance, had been cast as the villain— a dragon disguised as a dark sorcerer.

The auditorium buzzed with excitement, the audience eagerly awaiting the show. The lights dimmed, and the curtains rose.

“Fear not, I will save the kingdom from the evil sorcerer’s clutches!” Shirakumo bellowed, swinging his sword with exaggerated flair. His armor gleamed under the stage lights as he charged forward.

Dressed in a flowing gown, you stood at the edge of the stage, your Kitsune spirit subtly swirling around you, adding an ethereal touch. “Be careful, noble knight,” you said with a serious tone, barely managing to keep a straight face, “The dark sorcerer’s power is too great!”

Behind the curtains, Shouta sighed, waiting for his cue.

Hizashi entered in bright royal robes and a ridiculous crown, brimming with energy as the king. “You must save my daughter and defeat the dragon! The kingdom’s fate is in your hands!” He waved his arms dramatically, earning laughter from the crowd.

Nemuri, in her sorceress costume, floated onto the stage in a puff of smoke, trying not to accidentally use her quirk and knock the audience out. She tossed an apple to Shirakumo with a smirk. “With this, you shall gain the strength to defeat the dragon. But beware—his magic is dangerous.”

Finally, Shouta stepped onto the stage, tall and brooding, his dark aura accentuated by his flowing hair and glowing red eyes. The crowd gasped. He stood in silence for a moment, letting the tension build before delivering his line in a low, gravelly voice. “Foolish mortals, you cannot hope to defeat me.”

Shirakumo, ever the energetic knight, took a bite of the apple before throwing it to the side, pointing his sword at Shouta as the final battle began. He eventually stood triumphantly over Shouta, the crowd holding its breath, anticipating the princess’s moment to thank the knight.

But then, Shirakumo collapsed flat on his face.

The audience murmured in confusion as Shirakumo lay motionless on the stage, clearly out of character. You blinked down at him, unsure of what to do—this wasn’t in the script.

Nemuri leaned over Shirakumo’s ‘unconscious’ body, a mischievous grin on her face as she added a dramatic pause. “It seems the knight has fallen,” she purred. “Perhaps the apple was too much for him,” drawing laughter from the crowd.

“And perhaps… there’s another way to save the kingdom.”

You glanced at her, eyebrows raised, lines completely forgotten. From backstage, Hizashi stifled a laugh, and the atmosphere shifted.

Shouta, still playing the dark sorcerer, looked down at Shirakumo before his glowing red eyes settled on you. His expression was unreadable, though his eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to figure out what was happening. Nemuri threw a sly wink in your direction.

“Uh…” you stammered, scrambling to stay in character. “How else can the kingdom be saved?”

Nemuri, grinning fully now, stood up and dramatically pointed at Shouta. “The sorcerer has not been defeated, but perhaps… love can conquer even the darkest magic.”

The audience began to murmur, some whispering to each other, wondering if this was even part of the original script.

Before you could react, Hizashi’s voice boomed from offstage, clearly enjoying this far too much. “Yes! Love is the key!” Nemuri pushed on, “Princess, you must act quickly before the kingdom falls into eternal darkness!”

Shouta stood there, expression stoic but unwavering, his eyes locked on yours. It was too late to back down now.

Stepping forward, you felt the weight of the audience’s gaze. You met Shouta’s eyes, and for a moment, it felt like the entire stage had faded away, leaving just the two of you.

Taking a deep breath, you whispered, “I suppose… this is how the kingdom is saved.” Your heart raced as you placed a hand on his chest, your gaze never leaving his.

Shouta, ever composed, raised an eyebrow in silent question, and you gave a subtle nod. He leans in, gently raising your chin before closing the gap between you. The soft touch of his lips against yours sent a spark through you, the kiss gentle but lingering.

The crowd gasped in unison, and whistles broke out from the back, undoubtedly from Hizashi. The kiss deepened for a brief moment before you pulled away, your face flushed, Shouta’s usually stoic expression softened with something unspoken as his hair settled and his eyes returned to normal.

Behind you, Nemuri let out a dramatic sigh. “Behold!” she declared, arms outstretched. “The princess has saved the kingdom with the power of love!”

The audience erupted into applause and cheers, some students laughing at the unexpected twist, while others swooned at the romantic turn.

You turned to face the crowd, your cheeks still burning, only to see Shirakumo peeking one eye open from the floor, barely suppressing his laughter.

“That… wasn’t part of the script,” you muttered, catching your breath.

Shouta, back to his usual calm demeanor, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips.

As the curtain fell, Nemuri and Hizashi bounded over, grinning from ear to ear.

“That was genius!” Hizashi cheered, clapping you both on the back and nearly knocking you into each other. “Way better than what we had planned!”

Nemuri winked at you. “I knew it would be perfect. Who doesn’t love a good plot twist?”

You glanced at Shouta, hesitating, silently wondering if he felt the same way. He sighed, a faint smile still on his face. “You’re overthinking,” he muttered before gently pulling you backstage.

“None of you better knock unless you’d want my scarf wrapped around your throats.”

The end of the school year was fast approaching, and with it, the looming reality of graduation. You sat on the edge of the fire escape balcony as the sun begins to set, your legs dangling over as the cool breeze plays with your hair. Beside you, Shouta leans back against the building, a shoulder wrapped around you with his usual calm demeanor slightly more relaxed than normal.

You sigh, resting your head on his shoulder. "Graduation feels… weird. Like we’ve been working toward it for so long, and now that it’s here, it doesn’t feel real."

Shouta nodded, "Yeah. Everything’s about to change." He paused, glancing at you. "What about you? Have you figured out where you’re going after this?"

You smiled, though her eyes were distant. "I’m not sure yet. Hopefully anything within the medical field, or maybe in a rescue agency.,” you shrugged. "It’s just an idea. What about you?”

Shouta shifted slightly, "There’s plenty of work to do here. A lot of people who need protection, me, Oboro and Yamada were actually thinking of opening our own agency."

You turned to face him fully, a slight smile on your lips. "You think we can make it work? We’re gonna be super busy, maybe even needing to relocate,"

He met your gaze, his dark eyes steady and serious. "We’ll make it work. I’m not worried about that, if this agency thing works out, it’ll be enough to have our own place.”

You reached out to take his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. "I like that confidence."

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his lips quirking up into a rare smile. "I have to be confident. You’re a handful."

You laughed, the sound light and melodic, a sound that Shouta would never get bored of.

"Just know that I’m not letting you go that easily, Yan."

The work-study program had always been a crucial part of training, but with graduation so close, it felt like this was everyone’s final real-world test before stepping into full-fledged hero careers. You, Shouta, and your classmates were deployed to different areas of the city. You were no longer simple students—You were all heroes in training, and the safety of civilians rested in your hands.

You were assigned at Tatami Ward, where a massive villain, Garvey, was causing havoc. Garvey was no ordinary villain; According to his rapport, he had a powerful stockpiling quirk, allowing him to absorb attacks and release them with devastating force. His rampage had left parts of the city in ruins, and backup was immediately called in.

After a quick briefing, saying your goodbyes to your friends and a kiss to your lover, to which he promised he’ll keep your brother safe before you all part ways.

You were stationed with Hizashi, responsible for ensuring civilians were evacuated safely and tending to the injured. As the EMTs worked tirelessly to treat those who were wounded, you used your Kitsune spirit to heal and protect those who were caught in the crossfire.

Everything seemed to be going well on your end—no civilian casualties, thanks to Kitsune's healing abilities. But there was still worry in your heart. You hadn’t heard much from Aizawa or Oboro since the battle began, and the uncertainty gnawed at you.

You pressed the speaker in your ear, checking for updates. "Shouta? Oboro? Are you there?" You called out. Aizawa was mumbling, unable to catch his words , you tried again with Oboro, only to meet a sharp ringing on his end that you quickly shut off.

Your mind began to race. Shouta had a habit of focusing intensely during battle, so it wasn’t entirely unusual for him to ignore communications. But Oboro—he would never leave you hanging like this.

"Something’s wrong," you muttered to yourself. You spotted Hizashi’s ship, given from the Buster Union agency as he landed near you and immediately rushed over.

“Hizashi, please,” you begged, grabbing his arm. “I need to go where Shouta and Oboro are. Something’s wrong, they aren’t responding to me.”

Hizashi, always quick to react when it came to his friends, nodded without question. He brought you aboard, and the two of you soared towards the last known location of Shouta and Oboro. As you got closer, the smoke and debris became clearer, and your stomach twisted in knots.

When you two arrived, the battle was already over. Garvey lay unconscious, his colossal form defeated by Aizawa and Oboro’s teamwork. You sigh with relief at the sight of the downed villain, but something felt off.

"Shouta!" You called out, rushing toward him. But

your breath caught in your throat when you followed his gaze.

Oboro's lower body lay crumpled, toppled by multiple amounts of boulders as blood began to stain the concrete.

“No,” you whispered, stumbling toward, ignoring the blood splashing the soles of your shoes. “No, no, no!” Your Kitsune spirit frantically tries to sense any life left in him. There was nothing.

"He’s gone…" Shouta whispers,

Oboro had been there for your whole life, through everything, the one who always made you laugh when the world felt too heavy, the one that reassured you when your parents never understood you, the one that threw you boxes filled with donuts to treat your sweet tooth cravings.

And now… he was gone. Your vision blurred with tears, but those tears quickly snapped to anger.

Aizawa stood frozen, unable to move, unable to process what had happened. But your grief twisted into rage, and suddenly, your Kitsune took over, feeding on your pain and anger.

With a swift turn, kunai in hand, your eyes began to glow a harsh blue with sharp slits filled with fury.

"Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought he was still alive… I heard him talking to me—“

"I could’ve saved him!"

Aizawa stepped back, his own guilt reflected in his eyes, but before you could land a hit, Hizashi grabbed your arms and pulled you back with a strong grip, dropping your kunai.

"Yan! Stop!" Hizashi shouted, holding you tightly as you struggled against him.

"I could’ve saved him! You promised me! YOU’RE A LIAR—!" Your words broke into sobs, your body trembling with grief.

A soft voice cut through the chaos. Nemuri had arrived in perfect timing, and in a swift, gentle move, she used her quirk. "Sleep," she whispered.

Your eyes fluttered shut as her fog begins to cloud your vision, your body going limp in Hizashi’s arms. The tears still streamed down your face as you were placed gently on Nemuri’s lap, eyes closing shut as the world darkens.

—-

Hopefully this super adorable art of Reader and Aizawa during UA cheers you up from this angsty ending! The art is from the lovely mananeez go support her! ❤️🫶

[paytrav]

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[dreamyyesenia]

Always Keep Simming - On the Search for Help

Colin followed the light of the Ufo until they disappeared and stayed outside for hours. He was unsure whether he should wait for Aileen’s return or just go where he had to. Finally, the ufo appeared again and Aileen was transported to the front of their house. Relieved, Colin continued his journey. He’d left Aileen a message explaining he had some work emergency (rare artifacts being found and having to be identified immediately) and would be gone for a long time. He traveled by bus all through the night and exited at the edge of a thick dense forest. No Sims ever set foot into there but Colin knew what was laying beyond.

It was still dark outside, cold and raining. Soon, Colin was shivering and soaking wet. After what felt like an eternity, he finally saw the lights of the tavern. He’d only seen paintings of it in books but it was exactly how he had imagined it would be.

When Colin entered, there were a few young adults at the bar, chatting and drinking. Soft music was playing in the background. Upstairs, he could hear sims playing games. He ordered something to drink and eat and carefully observed the sims around him. One of the young adults finally noticed him and asked him who he was and where he was from. When Colin told him his name, the sim was shocked and apologized for not noticing him. He offered Colin to come home with him, have something warm to eat and shower and get some rest. As much as Colin was eager to get to his destination, he needed someone’s help. And he was exhausted. The other sim introduced himself as Maddox Nerwida and took him to his home. There, Colin fell asleep immediately.

Fully rested and feeling better, Colin asked Maddox to accompany him to the portal to the Magic Realm. Maddox and his sisters and friends came along with them. And so, Colin finally entered the Magic Realm - his birthplace - for the first time in 27 years.🪄

[yuurei20]

Hello! I know all the students at NRC use the dark mirror for going certain places during events and going back home on holidays. However, is there any instances where they mention how they get back to NRC? I do know both Ace and Deuce came back on boat and bus but is that the same for everyone? can they cast portals to come back through the mirror?

Also, thank you for all the hard work you put into this blog!♥️

Hello hello!! Thank you so much for this question, you are too kind! ^^♡

On the subject of transporting to NRC from outside of NRC, these are the only two references I have been able to find: Halloween and Book 4!

Ace says that they had to take public transportation back to the school in Book 4 because "the mirror gate wasn't open," and in Halloween he says, "the school mirrors let us go home and back instantly for holidays and stuff," but I am not sure we have heard anything about logistics!

During Spectral Soiree Leona explains that mirrors are often used in magical artifacts, listing the examples of the Dark Mirror, the Hall of Mirrors, and the viewglasses. We know that the viewglasses require at least two mirrors to work, and Malleus transports the students via the Dark Mirror using the mirror that is the disco ball.

This makes it sounds as though maybe a mirror should be required for returning to NRC, much in the same way that a mirror is required for leaving it, but the students tend to appear in curious places for mirrors to be:

They show up just outside an abandoned cottage in the prologue and for Vargas Camp, and on what appears to be the outskirts of Epel's village for the Harveston event.

They then appear in the middle of city centers for Firelit Sky, White Rabbit, Tapis Rouge and Tamashina, while they step directly into a lecture hall at Noble Bell College.

Is it possible that all those city centers, the outskirts of Harveston, the outside of that abandoned cottage and the lecture hall all have a mirror set up specifically for mirror-based transportation?

It might not be impossible!

The Dark Mirror is "one of Night Raven College's most prized magical artifacts," requiring Crowley's permission to use.

Being so well guarded, setting up similar mirrors in public spaces might be unlikely, but it seems that the Dark Mirror is special (according to Vargas), doing more things than teleportation.

Maybe the mirrors in places like the woods and Clocktower Square (assuming they exist) are more generic?

I found a recent Twst Soku thread on this same topic, where some interesting points were made!

In the first novel a ghost tells Yuuya that "high-quality mirrors can be used for transportation." So maybe any mirror at all will do, so long as it is of a certain quality?

If that is the case, it would explain why the students appeared where they did in Firelit Sky, Harveston, etc.: they were the most convenient locations for Kalim and Jamil to introduce the city, for Epel to show off his village's orchards, etc., but maybe they could've teleported directly into their own bedrooms if they'd chosen to?

But that introduces a different question:

Jade, Floyd and Azul do not go home in Book 4 because of ice floes that make travel difficult--but why do they need to travel at all? Do they live an inconveniently far distance from the local transportation-mirror?

If any mirror can be used, does this mean that they do not have mirrors at home? We know that underwater-mirror-travel is possible because of Book 3, where characters go to both Octavinelle dorm and the Coral Sea via mirror.

Things might still be vague as of this post, but it is almost conspicuous how the game, manga and novel have all expertly avoided answering this question 👀

Commenters in the Twstsoku thread above generally seem to agree that it might be something of a bus-stop situation, with public mirrors that can access NRC during pre-determined time slots, but I do not think anything is official at this time!

Looking forward to an answer one day :>

[baibhav]

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[strawberryshortcake1495]

Here’s my personal interpretation of Dipper in my “The Summer Project” AU (loosely based off @urdadsceilingfan’s Reverse Portal AU)

Now this post is LONG overdue. As I’ve scoured the few posts I’ve made about my Summer Project AU, I noticed I unintentionally antagonized Dipper as this bad brother who’s too much of a wimp to protect his sister 😭 So I’m gonna try to shed some light on him, not to excuse his actions, but to simply show his side of the story.

Dipper had a rough childhood. He always had his twin sister, Mabel, but besides that, everyone was so mean to him. Some kids could stomach Mabel’s fun-loving personality but when it came to him, he was just some stupid nerd. He wasn’t happy with his life. That was until he met the Book Club. Other nerds who had the same interests as him, weirdos who loved the things that people would laugh at him about. And they weren’t shy like Dipper, they were proud of who they were and that inspired Dipper to join them. He tagged Mabel along and everything seemed great. But as Dipper grew older, his relationship with his sister began to change. This was due to the Book Club not being as friendly to Mabel as they were to him. It’s as if their status in school has changed. Now his sister was the weird outcast and he was the lovable dork. His heart ached for his best friend, but at the same time…it felt so good not to be the laughingstock for once. Whenever one of his friends would tease and openly bully Mabel, he’d get this tight feeling in his chest. His heart would beat loudly like thunder, and his breathing would quicken. In moments like those, he’d squeeze Mabel’s hand to provide some sort of comfort. For her, of course! If she was far away, he’d squeeze his own hand.

As summer was around the corner, he and his sister started getting into fights over the Book Club. Dipper was put in a rough position. Should he choose the people who made him feel wanted, or the person who made him feel loved? He didn’t get the chance to fully think this through, as his parents told him they were shipping he and Mabel off to Gravity Falls to stay with their Grunkle Ford. The night before they went on that bus, he overheard a conversation between his parents. A conversation he wasn’t supposed to hear. They were getting a divorce. He and Mabel could be separated. He couldn’t bear the thought of a life without his sister. Dipper didn’t get a lot of sleep that night, which resulted in him having an awful migraine the first day they stayed at Grunkle Ford’s museum. At night, Mabel brought him a cold glass of water and some pills she found in a cabinet. Dipper took the pills and drank the water. Big fat tears streamed down his face and he begged Mabel to stay by his side until he fell asleep. He squeezed her hand so tight it might’ve cut off her circulation. She sung a lullaby to help him sleep. The next day, he told her he cried because of how painful the migraine was. That was a lie.

The rest of the summer from then on was amazing. From crushing on that pretty lumberjack girl Wendy, solving mysteries with his sister, and growing close with his great uncle Ford, everything was great! Dipper never thought he’d see the day that he would be truly happy. He hoped the rest of the summer would be as great as this.

But then “Not What She Seems” rolls around. Dipper and Ford find out that Mabel is hiding something. She’s trying to bring back this weird demon guy named Bill Cipher. His great uncle Ford claimed the thing to be his biggest enemy. By the way he described their past, Dipper assumed Bill to be some crazy ex (but he’d never tell Ford that). He and Ford confront Mabel and she breaks down into tears. There’s that feeling again. The one that gnaws at his chest. The tightness. The pounding heart. The hyperventilating. No matter how hard he squeezes his own hand, the feeling doesn’t go away. Suddenly, he’s in the air and in front of him is the shutdown button for the portal. Ford begs him to turn it off. Mabel doesn’t try to defend herself, she just won’t stop crying. He can’t move. Why can’t he move? His ears ring. The only sound he can hear is the loud whirring of the portal. His chest feels WAY too tight, as if his lungs were collapsing in on itself. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t br-

Suddenly, he’s blasted away as the portal activates and he hits the floor with a loud thump. Pain spreads from his spine up to his head. He wakes up surrounded by a pool of something wet…he realizes it’s blood. His own blood. Dipper panics and pulls himself up, probing a big wound on the back of his head with his hands. Ford runs to him and inspects the wound, his eyes filled with concern and care. Then there’s some footsteps. Dipper and Ford whip their heads towards the sound. Dipper thinks it’s Mabel. It’s not.

(design is by the silly @taco-del-taco)

Wholesome hc: The pine tree sweater Dipper wears is the first sweater that Mabel ever knitted. It ended up being too big for him back then but now it fits perfectly. Dipper knows Mabel isn’t too proud of her own sweater so he wears his to make her feel better about herself.