#muscle and strength 4 day split | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

clowningaroundmars · 8 months ago

Text

previously:

Here, the Doctor leaps over to the side, narrowly avoiding a fist to the jaw and swinging 42’s still unconscious body into the air… letting him tumble over the ledge.

"Catch!" He announces brazenly.

42 falls down, down, down.

Gwen watches in horror.

here we are you guys!!! the final chapter! are you guys ready? :)

don't worry, i won't play with your guys' hearts for too long! well. i mean

oh yeah, and remember that death tw on chapter 1? well yeah. no gory details ofc but just mind the warning

anyways, enjoy! :D it's the final stretch

<< part 4 of 4

Doc Ock cackles gleefully as he watches 42’s body tumble into the air and down onto the concrete parking lot several stories below.

With one last burst of rage-filled strength, Gwen football-tackles him over the ledge while his guard is down, sending all three of them sailing through the cool night air.

Doc Ock clearly doesn’t expect this, if his screaming was anything to go by.

But Gwen wasn’t concerned at all with his idiotic cries, she was a woman on a mission and by god if she wasn’t going to complete it!

If she failed two of her friends and directly lead to both of their demises, then what the hell was she wearing the mask for?

No, this ends now.

She quickly grabs Doc Ock by the back of his neck and grips onto another one of his tentacles as they fall through the air, ripping it straight out of the node on his spinal cord with all of her might.

��N-no-- don’t!! AAAAAAAAAUGHH!!”

The Doctor’s soul-wrenching yowl of pain might’ve made Gwen feel a little bad… under normal circumstances. But at the moment, her every bit of focus was pointed towards Miles-42 like a compass pointing True North, and she wasn’t letting him out of her sight now.

Making split-second calculations, she kicked the Doctor’s body off of her and used the tentacle’s technological properties as a last-ditch effort to hook herself onto a nearby streetlamp, swinging her entire body’s weight with a loud grunt of effort.

She intercepted Miles’ flailing body in mid-air and succeeded in grabbing a hold of him, swinging down onto the ground safely and falling onto the concrete. She crashed onto her knees and rolled over a few times, clutching 42's head protectively all the way down.

The Doctor… didn’t make it.

With a sickening crunch and splatter, he was a disgusting mess of red, wet garbage on the concrete. His tentacles weren't long enough to reach back up to ledge of the building and his slower reflexes caused him to miss the streetlamp entirely.

His remaining tentacles laid next to him just as limp and as dead as he was.

Well, shit. That was gonna be a nasty surprise for the paramedics to find later on, huh.

Gwen sighed with relief as she laid her head back down and took a minute to catch her breath.

What a day. She wanted this to be completely over now, but… she knew that despite this small moment of relief, she wasn’t quite out of the woods yet. Literally.

But also…

“Miles,” she grunts with effort, every muscle in her body crying out as she pushes herself off of her elbows to sit up.

Miles-42 is laid across her lap now and showing zero signs of waking up anytime soon. Gwen’s heart started kicking into overdrive again, and she held him in her hands…

Just like you held Peter… after killing him, an evil little voice sneered at her from the back of her mind.

“Peter? Peter, oh god. What did you do?!” Gwen sobbed, excavating her beloved friend from the rubble of her school’s gymnasium.

He wasn’t gonna make it… oh god, he really wasn’t going to make it. The poor boy could barely open his eyes, and his bloody, beaten face was something that was going to haunt her in her nightmares forever.

It was etched into the back of her mind, the back of her damn eyelids, especially when to her delight-- or horror, it was hard to tell in the moment-- he managed to crack open his swollen eyes and look directly into hers.

“Gw-- Gwen…” he coughed, weakly.

Gwen continued to cry. “No no no no no, no, no! What did you do!? Why?!” She pleaded, wanting any answer, anything to hold onto.

“I… I wanted to be special. Like you,” he managed, even weaker than before.

Gwen knew it. She could feel the thready pulse of his heartbeat growing weaker and weaker with every passing second, and time was running out.

But she still held on.

“… Peter?” She sucked in a breath.

“Peter?”

“Peter?!”

“Miles?!”

Gwen sobbed once more, clutching yet another beloved friend in her arms, in a position eerily similar to that fateful night. “Miles!”

All of the feelings she felt the night that her best friend had died came crashing back down and flooding into her chest like a tsunami.

She sniffled angrily, ripping her mask off of her face and working to pry Miles’ mask off of his own face, too.

... Damn it! What the hell was this stupid thing made out of?!

She didn’t want to break his tech, as complicated and extremely well-made as it was. She knew it was valuable and expensive to make, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

She needed to see if he was still possibly alive, if he could give her a sign or something, and she wasn’t going to be able to do it with this stupid mask in the way!

She didn’t trust her shaking hands to be able to read his pulse in this state… she needed to see his face.

After a couple of minutes of careful jabbing and prying, Gwen was finally frustrated enough to just slide Miles right off of her lap and pry the whole thing off of his face with one firm pull.

She managed to do so without injuring him even more, and immediately got to checking the color of his lips in the low lighting of the near-empty parking lot. She fussed over him, sniffling and wiping her tears all the while.

It seemed like his bleeding stopped for now at least, but that was without even knowing how much he had lost in the first place.

“Miles… Miles?! Please,” she begged as she held him in her arms once more. “Answer me, please! Let me know you’re still alive, anything! Wiggle your eyebrows or…” she sniffled, “I… I don’t know but god, please, anything!”

What the hell did Doc Ock even do to this kid anyways?

She examined his face once more through the tears in her eyes and noticed a new injury that looked relatively fresh, still bleeding somewhere from his temple.

Maybe he knocked Miles out for a longer time in his mad dash to the roof… and if that was true… he really, really could be dead.

Miles-42 wasn’t a superpowered being like the rest of the Spider Band, he was a regular kid with cool gadgets and intense at-home training, but a regular kid nonetheless. Gwen could recover from a hard head injury herself just fine, all she would have to do is just sleep the pain off.

But Miles…

Miserably, Gwen sunk down even lower to the ground and sobbed her eyes out, tears wetting her face and staining the spray-painted Prowler logo on Miles’ shirt.

She stays like this, clutching onto the limp body of someone she would’ve been happy to call her friend-- especially after all they’ve been through today-- and now he won’t even live to see the fruits of his labor.

Fuck.

Gwen’s wandering thoughts takes her over to his uncle Aaron’s face, how he was going to react to the news of his nephew’s untimely and unfortunate death.

Gwen thought about Rio and… well, she cried even harder.

But she didn’t get to finish because… Miles then stirred a bit, his breathing speeding up a bit before he laid his head back and sighed softly.

Gwen stopped crying. She was shocked, staring back into his blank face with wide, teary eyes.

… Was it her imagination, then? Did she want Miles to be alive so badly that she convinced herself that he moved a bit while she wept?

No. No, she’s got to suck it up, stop letting her emotions get the best of her and give it a real try this time.

Steadying her breathing and wiping the snot from her nose, she brushes her hair back from her face and turns Miles’ face towards a nearby streetlamp that casts down a cold, white light onto the scene.

With gentle fingers, she lifts up one of his eyelids, then his other eyelid, and then finally bends down to listen to his chest as closely as she can.

She hears a heartbeat, though not so loudly underneath all of the gear he wears, but a heartbeat nonetheless.

Miles really stirs this time, groaning and sucking in a breath as he slowly comes back online.

Gwen laughs wetly, wiping more of her tears and boogers and sadness away, only tears of joy left brimming in her eyes.

“Miles! Oh my god, you’re alive… you’re alive! You made it!” She announces gleefully, giving him a happy little squeeze.

“Ow,” Miles answers hoarsely, squinting in the harsh, cold light of the streetlamp overhead and coughing a bit.

“S-sorry, sorry. I’m just. Well, y’know pretty excited that you’re alive. I thought that you were actually dead for a minute there, bud! You really gave me a scare!” She laughs and sniffles.

Miles finally cracks an eye open long enough to exhale a bit and lay his head back down.

“Uhhh… who are you again?” He mumbles, and Gwen’s heart sinks.

Oh no.

“What? Uh, i-it’s me, Gwen! Y’know, the girl who you’ve been fighting to escape this horrible building with this whole night? Oh no… is your head injury that bad?” She frets.

Miles then cracks a smile, not quite being able to laugh but getting pretty damn close to doing so.

“Gwendy, relax. I know who you are. Joke,” he explained, and it earned him another head bump from being promptly dropped right back onto the hard ground.

“Ow,” he complained.

“You are a dick,” Gwen replied, folding her arms over her chest. She didn’t stop smiling through her tears, though.

“Were you crying over me? Oh my god, you were totally crying,” Miles says with a smile, not making any movements to get up at all.

Gwen unfolds her aching legs from underneath her and stands up on her knees. “Shut up. Stop talking. You’ve sustained a critical brain injury and you need to not make stupid decisions before we get you out of here, alright?”

Miles chuckles quietly. “Mmnyeah, true. Lemme keep my mouth shut.”

He wasn’t slurring his speech or confusing her for another person, so that was a good sign.

He wasn’t moving any of his limbs, though. So… that was possibly a bad sign.

“Can you, uh,” Gwen starts, glancing all around her as she fully stands up, “can you walk? Or sit up? I can carry you, but I need to know that you’re not paralyzed from the neck down first. I don’t wanna risk any more injuries, y’know?”

Miles wiggles his feet and flexes his hands inside of his gauntlets for a bit before laying back down and sighing again.

“Yeah, I can move my limbs. I don’t think anything’s broken… except for this massive fuckin’ migraine I got goin’ on right now. Just, uhm. Just gimme a minute.”

Gwen continues looking over her shoulder. The blades of a chopper are vibrating through the air several miles away but it’s gaining speed quickly, and steadily getting closer.

“Okay, you might wanna hurry up on that, because we’ve got company coming and we still need to get the hell out of here,”

Miles blinks on the ground for a few more seconds, gears very obviously turning in his head as he does.

After a few seconds, he says, “okay. Help me up, then. Slowly,”

It takes them several more minutes of pained grunting and a slow ascent up to get Miles standing again, but once they’re both steady on their feet, they get a move on.

Gwen has one of his arms over her shoulder, steadying him and carrying some of his weight.

“Wait,” Miles says suddenly, just as they’re rounding a corner of the building where several guards and scientists are still milling around. There are a few big white buses parked close by, most likely hired to transport the personnel away from the facility. Some are already sat inside.

Gwen ducks back around the corner and takes a peek at the scene before turning her attention back to her friend.

“Shit, you’re right. There’s a lot of people out there, most likely waiting for Octavius or something. We’ve gotta find a way too book it out of here undetected, though…”

“Mh, yep,” Miles grunts, sucking in air through his teeth for a second. “Ow, sorry. My head’s killin’ me… which kinda sucks, ‘cause my escape plan was to just hot-wire a car and hightail it outta here.”

Gwen laughed incredulously. “Oh my god. That was your grand escape plan this whole time?” She shakes her head. “In every single universe… Miles Morales is the exact same dork I always hate to love,”

“Psshhyeah right, hate to love. You’re not foolin’ me,” Miles smirks at her exasperated expression.

Gwen rolls her eyes and instructs Miles to lean against the wall and stay put while she goes to search for a viable vehicle they could steal.

“Cool. Good luck. I definitely won’t die,” Miles informs her, which just makes her roll her eyes again before bounding away.

Time for some espionage, Gwen thinks to herself as she skirts the outer edges of the parking lot and tries to avoid being seen by the several other armed personnel still waiting around to receive confirmation that they can now depart.

After a little bit, a few ambulance trucks pull up with flashing red lights and the paramedics jump out, which actually gives her some relief. The professionals were on the job now, everything was taken care of; they also served as a perfect distraction from what she was doing…

Which was looping around the entire building’s perimeter and seeing which car was left unattended and unlocked.

She really didn’t want to have to break any windows, especially because she needed to keep as quiet as possible since she still needed to go back and fetch Miles… but if all options were exhausted…

Bingo!

She eventually came across a parked Ford F-250 near a line of trees located just behind all of the ambulances and the commotion. It was unlocked (haha, sucker!) and was perfectly empty, ready for the taking.

Gwen couldn’t believe that despite failure after failure plaguing her on this day, her luck finally turned around at the last minute… what a relief!

Overhead, the chopper finally reached its destination, drowning out every sound around them with its spinning blades as it slowly lowered itself down onto the helipad located at the top of the building. Leaves were whipped violently into the air, trees swayed and shook with the force of the winds.

Gwen rejoiced again at the added distraction that would surely help with her sweet escape.

The helicopter crew wouldn't find much waiting for them up there, save for the unconscious bodies of several brutally-beaten henchmen, of course.

She fetched her friend who was now sitting with his knees tucked up under his chin against the wall, and together they limped their way back to the truck and climbed in.

Once inside, they successfully hot-wired it using Miles’ gadgets. Then Miles went to climb out of the driver’s seat.

“Uhh wait, huh. Where’re you going?” Gwen asks from the passenger seat.

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? You’re driving. Hop in.” Miles groans as he lowers himself from the high-as-hell cab, clutching at his side.

Gwen titters nervously. “Ohhh, no, no I’m not! I don’t even have my license yet, I can’t drive!”

Miles takes his sweet time painstakingly climbing into the back seat of the truck. He shirks his pack off, throws it onto the floor of the cab, and stretches himself out over the seats to lay down.

“Yep, I don’t have my license either, girl, you don’t see me chickening out when I’m picked to be the getaway driver!” He remarks, once comfortable.

Gwen huffs in annoyance, leaping over to the driver’s side and locking all of the doors once she makes sure they’re shut tight.

“Dude, forreal! I have no clue how to operate a truck like this! The gear shift isn’t even in the right place,” she complains.

Miles cracks one eye open. “Please tell me your dimension doesn’t have y’all driving on the left side of the road…”

Gwen huffs again. “No, I'm not British, Miles. I meant… this looks pretty high-tech for me and… what do all of these buttons even do? …Is this a touch screen?”

“Gwen, seriously, I get that this is a brand new experience for you but listen: there are like, no laws in this dimension. Literally not even kidding. Just pull up the GPS on that touch screen, punch in my address and we can get going. Left pedal’s gas, right pedal’s the brakes.”

She hesitated, but... there was no arguing with that! Who was Gwen to make decisions in a dimension she wasn’t even a part of, really? If Miles told her that his dimension ignored all traffic laws, well… then, when in Rome, right?

And besides, who else was getting them both to safety if not her? She needed to suck it up before they were noticed by any personnel sweeping the area, or before any cops showed up.

She took a deep breath and steeled herself.

“Well,” Gwen said nervously, both hands on the wheel and her eyes directly on the road in front of her, “bon voyage, then! Let’s pray I don’t get the both of us killed,”

“Vamos con dios,” Miles mumbled, an arm draped over his eyes. He quickly lost consciousness once again.

About half an hour into their drive (which-- aside from terrible braking every now and then-- was admittedly pretty smooth, all things considered), Gwen pulls over to a greasy 24-hour fast food place that seemed to serve all of the shittiest, unhealthiest food ever invented under the sun.

She woke Miles up and asked him what his order would be, borrowed his jacket to cover up her unique costume’s design, and ducked inside.

She was surprised to see Miles up and sitting in the truck bed when she returned with their food, legs swinging like he hadn’t just gotten injured helping her fight a menacing four-armed madman not even an hour and a half ago.

He looked the worse for wear, braids frizzed out as they hung right over his shoulders like they usually did, but he was more alert now than he had been before. He looked fine, given the circumstances.

They sat side-by-side, gazing up at what scarce stars there were out in the early morning sky, the edges of the horizon peeking a slight blush of pink through the trees.

Gwen scarfed down her triple bacon burger and inhaled her large fries, only stopping every once in a while to take a sip of her extra-large milkshake.

A mildly amused Miles enjoyed his own fries and meatball sub in companionable silence.

“Feelin’ better?” Gwen asks, still munching on the last bit of her burger, which has now thoroughly stained the lap of her costume with grease.

Miles laughs, wrapping up the second half of his sandwich for later. “Yeah, a quick nap and a good meal helps a lot,”

Gwen hums in thought. “You were out for… a while. Like, back at the parking lot. I was getting real worried there, actually,” she admits.

Miles glances at her, studying her face for a second. “… How long? I mean, you were crying, so I guess it was a while,”

Gwen rolls her eyes. “Can you stop bringing the crying back up again? I just… I got scared, okay? You didn’t tell me what your grand escape plan was before you… uh, passed out, so I mean...”

Miles is skeptical. “Uh huh, the escape plan. That’s what you were worried about that whole time, right?” He ribbed her a bit, intending for it to come off light-heartedly.

The tense silence that fell in that moment made him a bit nervous, though.

Gwen looked… upset.

He backpedaled. “Uhhh, I mean. Yeah, yeah, the escape plan! The escape plan... woulda been a real shame if I croaked back there before telling you what it was. Of course.” He clears his throat awkwardly.

Gwen offers him a small smile and starts clearing the wrappings and the trash around her folded legs.

“I… uh. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone this before. Well, not all of the details but. I don’t really do the whole friend thing anymore because of… I mean, I lost a friend before. And you’re Miles and-- I mean, not my Miles but the other Miles is-- was my friend, and I think we’re cool now, but when I saw you falling I just…”

Gwen sighs. “Sorry. I’m rambling. This is awkward.”

Miles leans back against the side of the truck bed, positioned in the same way that they were sitting back when they were having a bit of a heart-to-heart in the vents of Octavius’ compound. Funny how little moments like this seemed so serendipitous like that.

He studied her face again in the yellowing lights of the restaurant’s signs, thinking for a bit.

“Miles… the other Miles kind of told me some stuff. Not too many details, sure, but. Yeah,” he offered, trying to signal to her that he was down for a chat, no matter how depressing the topic got.

Not very many people in his world got to understand him on a deeper level, not even his own girlfriend. It was nice sitting next to someone who dealt with just as much trauma as him, if not more. It was... an opportunity for connection. Why not take it?

Gwen looked up at him. “Oh, you two talk about me?”

“Yeah, you’re all we talk about, your highness,” he laughs, then sobers up again. “Nah. I mean, y’know like, we talk about everybody. And he likes you, you know. So, yeah... sometimes you get brought up.”

Gwen sighs, leaning her head back against the truck bed and looking up at the stars above. “He shouldn’t, honestly. I think he can find someone from his dimension that… that’s gonna actually appreciate him, you know?” She looks back down into Miles’ eyes. “Not a self-deprecating thing, by the way. Don’t worry,”

Miles holds his hands up with an easy smile. “Not worrying,”

“Well good!” Gwen smirks. Then she shrugs. "I'm not sure it'd work out between us. That's all."

“... So about that back there… I took a look in the side mirror and uh,” he gestures to his shirt, the Prowler insignia now slightly messed up and blurred in some spots thanks to Gwen’s salty tears. "Yeah."

Gwen looks away, ashamed. “Yeah,” is all she says.

“Was your friend… a good friend?” Miles prodded a bit, trying to seem nonchalant about it.

Gwen saw right through it, even when she was purposefully avoiding looking at him. “Yeah. He was. My best friend,”

“Damn,” Miles replies. “I reminded you of him that much?”

Gwen laughs bitterly. “Don’t flatter yourself. I mean… I thought of you as my friend, which… y’know, you are, until we get to go our separate ways and forget all of this even happened. And I uh… I don’t like seeing friends get hurt. That’s all.”

Miles bobbed his head slowly, digesting this bit of information and taking a sip of his own milkshake.

"He, uhm." Gwen swallowed. "He died in my arms."

It was all she could say.

Miles winced because he understood. He really, really did.

After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat. “Listen. I, uh. I wouldn’t mind calling you a friend after all of this, if you don’t mind. Like, even after we go home,” He strategically avoided eye contact with her. "We been through too much tonight to call each other strangers, right?"

Gwen smiled at him again. It was a sad smile. “Why don’t you have any friends, by the way? You seem cool. Well. When you’re not in work mode, that is.”

Miles chuckled. “Wow. Do I seem that lonely?”

Gwen shrugs. “The other Miles also tells me some things… sometimes. You just happen to come up every now and then, that’s all,” she manages as playfully as possible. She throws him a wink over her shoulder.

Miles' upper lip quirked up. “That little traitor. I’m giving him a wedgie the next time I see ‘im.”

Gwen barks out a laugh. “Good luck! He’s ten times stronger than you and he can go invisible,”

“Yep,” Miles nods to himself. “You definitely still have a crush on him.”

Gwen throws a fry at him and then they decide to finally dump their trash and continue their journey back into the city before the sun really started waking up and blinding poor Gwen, who was already learning how to drive on the fly and probably didn’t need the relentless sun rays beaming directly into her eyes while she was still at it.

They rode the rest of the way in much better spirits.

They drive past Newark, New Jersey and before Gwen knows it, they’re driving through Manhattan and reaching the Brooklyn Bridge.

“Okay okay, okay, okay okay okayokayokay,” she mutters to herself, hands firmly gripping the steering wheel and leaving slight indentations in the material. “I got this, I got this,”

Miles is now seated in the passenger seat, seatbelt firmly clicked in place. He’s leaned forward, ready to stop Gwen at any moment and pull the emergency brakes.

“Yeah, yeah, you got this, you got this! Don’t be intimidated by all the other cars around you, this ain’t our truck, remember? Everyone else is gonna be doing whatever the hell they wanna do, but don’t do anything stupid on the bridge, right? Otherwise, just keep your foot hovering over the brakes, like I told you before. Let this truck coast,”

Gwen tries her best to internalize all of his rapid-fire advice and not accidentally find herself flooring the gas by accident at the same time. She’s pretty sure her finger marks are going to be sunk into the polyurethane foam and possibly even the metal underneath forever.

She didn’t know who in the world owned this truck, but whoever he was, he was going to be real pissed off when he discovered it in the future.

Which, actually, speaking of…

“Sooo, how uh… where are we going to put this truck once we’re done with it? Should we… pull over soon, leave it in a parking lot somewhere and take the train the rest of the way?”

Miles chuckled. “Leave it? You kiddin’? This truck is basically brand new, pristine. We’re taking this straight to my uncle’s chop shop, we’re gonna take this stuff apart, sell a part here and there, keep the rest for our own gear.”

Gwen gave him a cursory glance. “Uh, your uncle has an auto shop? Huh. Dunno why that surprises me.”

“It’s not a legit business, that’s why. He only runs it as a front. We use it mostly to bring in abandoned cars, use the metals, wires and glass for our gear, other weapons we make to sell. Sometimes Aaron fixes other people’s cars and bikes for some money, though… and bribes.”

Gwen chuckles a bit. “Sounds about right. But I guess I don’t blame you guys. Gotta do what you can to… survive… right?”

She trails off as they get closer to Brooklyn's residential areas and see a rampant spike in crimes. Gwen’s Spider Sense goes off as she sees crime after crime being committed in the brand new hours of the dawn, when the sky hasn’t even finished lightening up to a nice baby blue yet.

“… I see that you guys, uhm… these New Yorkers here in this dimension are a… lively bunch, huh?” Gwen comments distractedly as she drives past someone actively committing grand theft auto.

“Yyyyep,” Miles sighs. “Home, sweet home.”

“You ever wonder what it’s like to live anywhere else in the world sometimes?”

“Only everyday. But us Morales never run from anything. So,” Miles shrugs.

Gwen gives him a fond look.

"Sure do wish I could stop some of these people, though-- wait. Is that man mugging that other guy over there?" She cranes her neck over the wheel to get a better look.

Miles grabs the wheel to keep them from veering into a line of parked cars. "How about we just keep driving, okay? Eyes on the road, girl."

Gwen laughs sheepishly. "Right! Sorry. Spiderwoman instincts."

"Yeah, trust me, I get it." Miles replies flatly. "Don't get distracted. This crime's ours to fight, not yours. Just get us home, like, alive please?"

After finally rolling up to Aaron’s garage at five in the morning, bright and early, Miles lowers himself down from the cab once again and limps over to ring the doorbell.

He presses it in a series of patterns that Gwen only vaguely recognizes before the metal garage door eventually starts rumbling open, revealing a slightly disheveled Aaron still in his PJs, but with a fly coat on as per usual, and some nice-looking Timbs. He was casually leaning against a vintage Cadillac.

He held a mug of coffee in one hand that read “WORLD’S WORST UNCLE” in bold lettering on one side.

Gwen bit her lip to keep from laughing.

“About damn time,” Aaron grumbles, scratching at his beard and pushing off of the Cadillac. “What took y’all so long?”

Miles only gives him a cursory glance before going around the front of the truck to help Gwen down from the cab and dive into the backseat to retrieve his stuff.

Aaron raises an eyebrow at her.

“Uh, hello… sir. I’m Gwen!” She responds, mostly to dispel the awkwardness that hung in the air.

Aaron eyes the truck as he paces casually towards the two teens, gaze occasionally flicking down to the purple jacket that Gwen still sported... that very clearly belonged to his nephew.

"What, uh," Aaron starts, "what... happened to you two?"

"Ah, you know. High risk life-threatening mission, the usual!" Gwen quips on auto-pilot. Her mouth moves faster than her brain does sometimes.

Miles followed Aaron’s gaze and quickly stepped in front of her, holding his pack out for him to take.

“I got it,” he informed Aaron. “All of it.”

Aaron made a noise of approval, taking the pack and examining it.

It still had a few cobwebs dangling off of it. He hummed in thought, eyeing his nephew once more.

“Sooo, we’re gonna go upstairs now, cool? I gotta clean this super awful and deep wound I got from… uh, saving Gwen here. Yeah, she was gonna be sushi if I didn’t jump in front of her. It was Doc Ock, by the way,” Miles continued, as they both made their way into the garage and towards the door in the back. “Doc Ock, that we killed, too. By the way. Mostly me, of course. But, y’know. No need to thank me or anything!”

Aaron laughs and shakes his head. "I'm tellin' Rio, kid. I am! I'm snitchin', I don't care."

"What!" Miles exclaims indignantly. "About what?!"

Aaron's shoulders are shaking. "I'm tellin' her you got another girl around now,"

Gwen laughed loudly, grabbing Miles by the back of his shirt and yanking him towards the back exit door.

“I do not! Do not call her! Bye!” Miles called out before stumbling into the landing that lead up to the elevator of his uncle’s building.

Miles apologized about his uncle in the elevator ride up, and when he opened the door to Aaron's spacious apartment, he kicked his shoes off and sighed with relief.

“Make yourself at home, by the way… mi casa es su casa, and all that,” he says nonchalantly as he peels his shirt off of his body, shedding gear on the floor all the way to the couch.

Gwen only stands by the door, jacket in hand, fiddling nervously with the material.

“I should… I should go.” She finally says after a moment of hesitation. Guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders. “I shouldn’t stick around if I really don’t need to--”

“Why, ‘cause of Spider Society rules?” Miles scoffs, pulling a first aid kit from under the couch and inspecting his wound. “Am I still bleeding on the side of my face, by the way?”

Gwen sighs. “No. And, no. You’ve stopped bleeding a while ago. Look…” she dumps his jacket onto the back of a computer chair and looks down at her watch. “This little adventure was very fun and all… but you got hurt because of me, and I should--”

She stops when she sees Miles’ wound. It looked nothing like she’d ever seen before on a person... and she’s seen her fair share of wounds.

The gaping… thing that Miles was inflicted with didn’t look like any wound she’d even experienced before.

It was green, still had a slight glow to it from the weird snake-like marks winding out from the center. The dried blood scabbing over didn’t bother her at all, she knew how ugly a stab wound could look most days, but the green glow…

It looked a lot like the glowing green circuits back in that power box that she destroyed at Octavius’ compound…

She gasped.

Miles looked up from his inspection and they locked eyes.

“Uhhh,” his pupils bounce around for a bit, trying to think of something to say. “It’s… it’s not as bad as it looks?”

Gwen winces and then swiftly turns around, immediately punching in her own dimension into the watchface. “I’d love to stick around… but I gotta go. Don’t die on me, okay?” She tells him, speaking quickly.

Miles is caught by surprise, but eventually concedes. He places a hand over his wound and nods in her direction. “Uhm. Yeah, cool. Will do. You uh, you take it easy, too. Yeah?”

Gwen only offers him a sad smile in return and her own watercolor-bright portal is immediately opened. Then, she’s stepping through it like she’s being chased down.

After the portal closes, everything that was in the vicinity settles down after floating in the air a bit.

Miles is left alone blinking in the place it used to be, unsure as to why Gwen just dipped on him like that out of nowhere.

He looks back down to his wound, only maybe slightly infected, but still very sure that the poison most likely worked itself through his body by now. Especially after that meatball sub and the fries...

Maybe seeing poisoned wounds upset her or something, he figured, shrugging and going back into the open kit laid next to him.

He starts cleaning his wound with isopropyl alcohol, wincing every now and then when the chemical stung a little harder as he peeled away dried blood.

It isn’t until after he’s done that he remembers their conversation about her best friend, back in the truck at the fast food joint.

He shuts the kit closed, tucks it back underneath the couch, and picks his phone up off of the counter where he usually leaves it before heading out to dangerous missions.

He selects and copies Gwen’s number from the Spider Band groupchat that he never sends messages in, opens a new message box, and sends only one text.

Thanks, btw. For everything.

#spiderverse #gwen stacy #miles g morales #earth 42 #aaron davis #well here it is you guys. the final chapter #we made it!!#can you guys tell that action is not my forte? lol #if it was paced all weird n stuff i apologize. but hopefully you guys got a kick out of this anyhow #i loved exploring these two and their dynamic!#i'm glad that this fic took place over a hefty chunk of time bc i thoroughly enjoyed putting them into as many Situations as i could manage #if i could write these two just sitting down and having a convo abt life i would #they're just so much fun to dig into esp wrt their own traumas and hangups #also. hope my gwen wasn't too ooc! i based her mostly on what we saw in atsv since i've never written her before #but i hope i stuck the landing anyways #so yeah. as always thanks so much to anyone who reads this! ^^b #byeeeee :)#mi writing

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freeonlineworkouts · 4 months ago

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Leg Workouts with Dumbbells

Leg workouts with dumbbells are an excellent way to build strength, tone muscles, and improve lower body endurance. Dumbbells add resistance to bodyweight exercises, making them more challenging and effective. Below is a comprehensive leg workout routine using dumbbells that targets all major muscle groups in the lower body.

Warm-Up (5–10 minutes)

Before starting, warm up your muscles to prevent injury and improve performance:

Bodyweight Squats: 1–2 minutes.

Lunges: 1 minute (alternating legs).

Leg Swings: 30 seconds per leg.

Jumping Jacks: 1–2 minutes.

Leg Workout with Dumbbells

Perform 3–4 sets of each exercise, with 10–15 reps per set. Rest for 30–60 seconds between sets. Adjust the weight of the dumbbells based on your fitness level.

1. Goblet Squats

Hold a single dumbbell vertically at chest level, close to your body.

Stand with feet shoulder-width apart.

Lower into a squat, keeping your chest up and knees aligned with your toes.

Push through your heels to return to the starting position.

2. Dumbbell Deadlifts

Hold a dumbbell in each hand, palms facing your body.

Stand with feet hip-width apart.

Hinge at your hips, keeping your back flat and knees slightly bent.

Lower the dumbbells toward the floor, then squeeze your glutes to return to standing.

3. Dumbbell Lunges

Hold a dumbbell in each hand, arms at your sides.

Step forward with one leg and lower your hips until both knees are at 90 degrees.

Push through your front heel to return to the starting position.

Alternate legs with each rep.

4. Dumbbell Step-Ups

Hold a dumbbell in each hand.

Stand in front of a sturdy bench or step.

Step onto the bench with one leg, driving through your heel to lift your body up.

Bring the other leg up to meet it, then step back down.

Alternate legs with each rep.

5. Dumbbell Bulgarian Split Squats

Hold a dumbbell in each hand.

Stand a few feet in front of a bench or step.

Place one foot behind you on the bench.

Lower into a lunge, keeping your front knee aligned with your toes.

Push through your front heel to return to the starting position.

Complete all reps on one leg before switching.

6. Dumbbell Calf Raises

Hold a dumbbell in each hand, arms at your sides.

Stand with feet shoulder-width apart.

Raise your heels off the ground, squeezing your calf muscles at the top.

Lower your heels back down slowly.

7. Dumbbell Sumo Squats

Hold a single dumbbell with both hands, letting it hang vertically between your legs.

Stand with feet wider than shoulder-width apart, toes pointed slightly outward.

Lower into a squat, keeping your chest up and knees tracking over your toes.

Push through your heels to return to the starting position.

8. Dumbbell Romanian Deadlifts

Hold a dumbbell in each hand, palms facing your body.

Stand with feet hip-width apart.

Hinge at your hips, keeping your back flat and legs straight (slight bend in knees).

Lower the dumbbells toward the floor, feeling a stretch in your hamstrings.

Squeeze your glutes to return to standing.

Cool-Down (5–10 minutes)

After your workout, stretch your leg muscles to improve flexibility and reduce soreness:

Hamstring Stretch: Sit on the floor with one leg extended, reach for your toes.

Quad Stretch: Stand on one leg, pull the other heel toward your glutes.

Hip Flexor Stretch: Lunge forward with one leg, lower your back knee to the ground.

Calf Stretch: Place one foot behind you, press your heel into the ground.

Tips for Success

Progressive Overload: Gradually increase the weight of your dumbbells as you get stronger.

Form First: Focus on proper form to avoid injury and maximize results.

Rest Days: Allow at least 48 hours of rest between leg workouts for recovery.

Hydration and Nutrition: Stay hydrated and fuel your body with protein and healthy carbs to support muscle growth and recovery.

This dumbbell leg workout is effective for building strength, toning muscles, and improving overall lower body fitness. Incorporate it into your routine 2–3 times per week for best results! Let me know if you need modifications or additional exercises.

#Leg Workouts with Dumbbells #Leg Workouts #legs day #leg workout #leg raises #exercise #video #workout #youtube #tumblr

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hebefit · 1 month ago

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What is a good 7-day workout routine for the gym?

🌟 Want to build muscle, lose fat, or just feel stronger? A solid 7-day gym routine can help you stay motivated, consistent, and see real results—without burning out.

👤 Experience: When I first started hitting the gym 7 days a week, I felt overwhelmed. Then I followed a structured weekly split: push-pull-legs with recovery and active days. It kept me energized, and I actually looked forward to workouts!

💪 Ideal 7-Day Gym Workout Plan for Balanced Fitness

✅ Day 1 – Push (Chest, Shoulders, Triceps)

Bench Press – 4×10

Shoulder Press – 4×8

Triceps Dips – 3×12

Cable Flys – 3×15

Overhead Dumbbell Extension – 3×12

✅ Day 2 – Pull (Back, Biceps)

Deadlifts – 4×6

Pull-Ups or Lat Pulldowns – 3×10

Barbell Rows – 4×8

Hammer Curls – 3×12

Face Pulls – 3×15

✅ Day 3 – Legs

Squats – 4×8

Romanian Deadlifts – 4×10

Leg Press – 3×12

Calf Raises – 3×20

Walking Lunges – 2 rounds

✅ Day 4 – Active Recovery / Light Cardio

30 mins walking, cycling or swimming

Stretching or yoga (15–20 mins)

✅ Day 5 – Full Body Strength

Kettlebell Swings – 3×15

Dumbbell Snatch – 3×8 per side

Pull-Ups – 3×8

Push-Ups – 3×20

Planks – 3×1 min

✅ Day 6 – HIIT + Core

20 min HIIT (treadmill sprints or circuit training)

Russian Twists – 3×30 sec

Hanging Leg Raises – 3×15

Bicycle Crunches – 3×25

✅ Day 7 – Rest or Light Stretching

Gentle yoga or mobility work

Hydrate, foam roll, and recover

📌 Summarize This Answer

A great 7-day gym routine balances strength, cardio, and recovery. Use a push-pull-legs split, add active recovery, and listen to your body. Consistency—not perfection—builds long-term fitness. 🏋️‍♂️🔥

#What is a good 7-day workout routine for the gym?#7-day workout routine #gym #good 7-day workout #workout #gym body #gymlife #fitness #health & fitness #healthcare #healthylifestyle #hebefit #physical health

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fitnessnirvana · 11 months ago

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UPPER BODY AND ARM HIIT WORKOUT

Do you think spending hours at the gym daily was the only way to increase upper body strength and muscle? Think again. While strength training and progressive overload are important components of gaining strength and size, upper-body HIIT exercises are excellent for raising the load on your back, chest, shoulders, and arms without requiring a significant amount of time.

What Are The Benefits of Upper Body HIIT Workouts?

High-intensity interval training, or HIIT, is a training method that alternates between times of all-out exercise and periods of low-intensity exercise or rest, with a maximum workout duration of 30 minutes. While HIIT workouts do not normally generate as much muscle as weight training, they can still be beneficial, especially if you choose regimens that include various compound movements to keep the muscles engaged.

While HIIT workouts may be less effective in building muscle, they make up for it in other ways. When compared to weight training, HIIT workouts have a greater ability to improve muscle endurance, speed, and power, which can aid in sports performance and even weight lifting. HIIT also increases cardiovascular endurance and burns a large number of calories in a short period.

Are HIIT Workouts Enough For The Upper Body And Arms?

There are numerous advantages to incorporating upper body and arm HIIT workouts into your weekly workout, but depending on your aim, this may not be sufficient on its own. Upper body and arm HIIT workouts can suffice if you want to develop strength, power, and speed while also maintaining a leaner physique. If you can only devote 30-40 minutes to your workouts each day, HIIT workouts are ideal for getting a strong upper-body workout.

If you want to acquire significant upper body and arm bulk, you need also to incorporate weight training. Weightlifting challenges and fatigues the muscles to the point that they must be regenerated, and this process increases muscle size. Combining the two types of exercise is an effective strategy to increase general strength and fitness while also improving body composition. An upper-lower body training split could look like this:

Day 1: upper body workout – weightlifting

Day 2: lower body workout – weightlifting

Day 3: upper body workout – HIIT

Day 4: lower body workout - HIIT

Tips For Creating An Upper Body HIIT Workout:

We've given an upper body and arm HIIT routine to try below, but if you want to create your own workout, here are some pointers to get you started:

Choose complementing exercises. Choose a combination of complex workouts to build strength and cardio activities to improve speed and endurance. Choosing workouts that require the same pieces of gym equipment will make it easier to complete the exercises fast. Push-ups, clean and press, tricep dips, battle ropes, and renegade rows are some of the best upper body HIIT workouts you can do.

2. Begin with something small. Aim for 4-6 exercises with multiple circuits rather than 1-2 rounds of a variety of exercises. This will make it easy to follow, allowing you to focus all of your attention on the exercises and take advantage of the rest intervals rather than having to remember what to do next.

3. Try different times. There are numerous ways to structure your HIIT workout, so experiment with various intervals to determine what works best. For more strength-based exercises, longer intervals may be beneficial to get more reps in, whereas a more cardio-focused workout may benefit from shorter but higher intensity times of exercise and rest.

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saltybean03 · 2 months ago

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the amykari are an intelligent race of amphibous creatures that thankfully prefer fish over people, but it doesnt matter because they're aggressive and take joy in executing them instead. they're about 4 to 4½ feet tall lumpy grumps that communicate with throaty shrieking. they do not like pets and you'd probably lose a hand trying it

now for the infographics!

1. their nails are long and curved for traction but they're dull, so they won't necessarily slice you open. their texture is like wood, thick and splitting

2. they have tridactyl paws, which is basically like bird feet. (6) the bottoms are calloused and hard

3. amykari have a lot of skin. it must stay moist in order for them to breathe, at a lack of a nose. (1) the porous upperdermis, (2) a thick layer of blubber w/ sweat glands that also act as vacoules. when the body absorbs water, these glands swell up and increase the surface area of the blubber to keep them warm when its cold out, (3) muscle, (4) the layer containing blood vessels

4. their eyes are suuuuper small, but sensitive to changes in light. they act more like motion sensors and use monocular vision

5. amykari got crazy underbite, to the point the upper part of their mouth is scarred by the constant grating of their jagged teeth. their top jaw is small in comparison. (5) their teeth are copper based

6. their big heehoo brain makes up about 60% of their body mass. it is protected by a layer of amorphous cartilage that hardens on the way down to keep it from covering their eyes too much. they dont have bony skulls like we do

amykari are strong and most of their strength comes in pulling things. in other words, they can tear your limbs off without much effort. this creature can channel more than a million jesuswatts of bioelectricity from its brain to electrocute the shit out of you as well (which is something they think is funny). they are all individuals at the end of the day but are connected to a neural network controlled by a queen who can command them telepathically. the queen is 90% brain, immobile as a result, but very well taken care of by her brood

until next time, friends! ✨

#my art #artists on tumblr #speculative biology #speculative zoology #alien species #creature art #creatures

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throughtrialbyfire · 1 year ago

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20 Questions for Writers

thank you so much to @wispstalk and @dirty-bosmer for tagging me!! <3

gonna tag @mareenavee @changelingsandothernonsense @thequeenofthewinter @skyrim-forever @trickstarbrave @oblivions-dawn @orfeoarte @gilgamish @totally-not-deacon @archangelsunited !! no pressure as always, and if i havent tagged you and you wanna do this, go ahead and say that i did, i'm tagging you in my mind <33

answering under the read more!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

five atm! but i'm planning on splitting my one-shot-as-chapters fic into individual fics. i think i'll have around 11, then, if i don't take out some.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

99,173

3. What fandoms do you write for?

TES and CoD Zombies! though i don't write a lot for CoD Zombies, just when i get in a certain mood for it here and there. old special interest wont grant me a moments peace lmao

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

i only have five uploaded, but i'll put them here!

1. An Inner Sanctity - 41 2. If By Sun and Moon I Swore - 38 3. Cycle of the Serpent - 23 4. The Mark You Left - 15 5. Portraits Under Forgotten Suns - 2 (this is the one i'm gonna split up into their own fics :3)

5. Do you respond to comments?

yes!! i even carry on convos in the comments sometimes for the hell of it, i love interacting with ppl <33333333

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i think the one-shot for the prompts "forgotten/devotion" for tesfest '23 about the shipwreck of the brinehammer, since the main character dies lmao

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

the one for the prompt "in bloom" from tesfest '23!! it was just a little fluff fic for my ocs athenath and ja'dato <3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

luckily no, the spaces i've found myself in these days are really positive :3 especially compared to when i wrote on FF.net in like 2009

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

none of it is published, but i do sometimes! it's a good way to flex my muscles (haha) in blending thought and action, balancing descriptors (how vivid is Too Much), and seeing how certain characters interact with each other in a vulnerable state. maybe i'll post some someday, idk. mostly i just do it for funsies, so idk what kind you'd classify any of mine.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

i havent in many years, so no, but that could chance if the mood strikes me

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

nope, but when i was writing for a different fandom in high school, my writing for a particular character wound up on ppls RP accounts as their versions backstory, as well.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no, but if anyone wants to translate my fics, feel free!! just give me a heads-up!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

yep, on my old ao3, a good friend and i turned an RP into a fic! i enjoyed it immensely bc we wrote really well together!

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

idk, i just groove where the dynamics take me <3

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

i hate to say it, but An Inner Sanctity needs a major overhaul that i don't have the energy for right now. when i started writing that fic, i didn't have a solid grasp on athenath's personality. now that i do, i'm gonna need to rewrite all the chapters i've had ready for it, and pivot the direction of the fic to get it where i wanted it to wind up eventually. i really do want to finish it, though.

16. What are your writing strengths?

i get a lot of compliments on my imagery/descriptions/atmosphere! i love describing shit, so i'm glad ppl enjoy reading those bits of my work <3 oh!! and character/narrative details. i wrote a ~180k word fic in my senior year of high school solely off my mental notes for it, and it still wasnt finished when i dropped it a year or so later due to Circumstances

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

biting off WAAAAAAAY more than i can chew!! i have so, so many things planned for CotS and who knows if those things will get picked up on by folks or even work later down the line. GAHH

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

if you can realistically do it, go for it. if i could fluently speak all the languages i've tried to teach myself, i'd probably include them in fics where they would fit!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

naruto, i was writing naruto fics on a defunct dress-up site when i was a kid AHAH.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

Cycle of the Serpent. theres seldom a time i'm not thinking about those elves. yes, i will admit with my whole chest that i'm a tad desperate for people to read it and interact with it, but i think if i could explain everything (without spoiling it obviously) i have planned for this fic and just how much is going on in the background of the details i throw in, the reasons certain characters behave the way they do, and the amount of time i've spent working on it (the doc for it is at roughly ~96k and we're not even at the Real beginning of the solitude arc) and the sheer amount of hours i've spent making sure details line up, you'd understand why i'm losing all my sanity daniel-amnesia-the-dark-descent style over this story. i started writing it as a for fun "no one's ever gonna see this" exercise that also helped me greatly in recovering from long covid brainfog, and i think even if one day i look back and think of it as "not the best thing i've ever written", it'll still be one of the most passion-driven things i've ever written, and i'm happy about that. <3

woof, what a ramble. if you made it to the end of this, thank you, and i hope you're having a good day!!

#bishop.txt #tag games

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theunbonded · 1 year ago

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Garrick looked at me like I was a bug he wanted to squash underneath his boot. Not maliciously, but as a way to quickly get rid of an annoying pest.

This was our fifth meeting and he had yet to let me touch a sword, focusing primarily on my hand-to-hand capabilities. Normally I would be complaining, but with the way he was putting me on my ass every session, this was probably for the best.

I was right that we could last a long time against each other, each dodging and making hits, but never getting the advantage. He had more muscle and weight, as well as height on his side, but I was nimble and quick on my feet. It was a constant game of cat and mouse on the mat. The bruises blooming across my ribs were courtesy of him, but my bloodied knuckles and the black eye gracing his face were reminders that this was an even matchup.

Until we got on the floor. No matter how we made it down, he got the advantage. I could have tripped him, flipped him over my shoulder, kicked out his knees, yet the minute I tried to pin him, he used his strength to steamroll me onto my back. None of my holds worked on him. It always ended with his thighs bracketing mine into place. His chest pressed against mine until the point of pain. His long, thick fingers loosely gripping my neck, a declaration of his win.

Then he would get up, wipe imaginary dust off his pants, and extend an arm to help me off the mat. Only once I was up would he begin his list of everything I could do better.

“Again,” I told him after regaining my balance, cutting off whatever rant he was about to begin. His hand stayed on my forearm until my feet were firmly on the ground, and then he quickly backed away from me. This was the third time we had gone today and it showed. His lip was split and sweat pooled at his collarbones. I’m sure my curls had frizzed into a mess at the top of my head, and my wrist felt swollen from where he had grabbed it during the previous match.

“No.” His breath was heavy as he wiped the beads of perspiration on his forehead. “We’re done with the mat today.”

“Again,” I said, more firmly. “Until I can figure out how to get out from underneath you.”

He smirked at me, but whatever crude comment he had remained in his head at my expression. “The best possible solution for you is to never get in that position. Your size won’t give you an advantage against someone built like me.”

“But I need to learn how to get out. I won’t die because I can’t get out from underneath a pig of a man.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that.” Garrick ran his fingers through his hair. How his curls remained like that while mine disappeared the minute I broke a sweat was a mystery. “Don’t get on the floor. It’s as simple as that. And if you do, you don’t let them pin you. You may have the advantage on top with weaker riders, but don’t attempt to pull any tricks with riders stronger than you.” At my look, he added. “And there are people stronger than you.”

“It’s frustrating.” I ran my hands down my face, then cringed at the sticky sweat that came away.

“It’s life.”

“I’ve won every match I’ve been here.”

“They haven’t put you against a real opponent.”

“There are no real opponents here.”

“What do you call this?” He raised that eyebrow at me, motioning to our unsanctioned practice, and there was nothing I could say to that.

“My advice, Capplynger.” Garrick leaned in close, like it was a secret. “In a real fight, get them on the floor and kill them before they drag you down with them.”

⤧⤧⤧

I stood with my squad mates as Violet took the mat. How she had managed to continue winning was a mystery to most. Each of her challengers took ill or seemed to be out of it the day they were up against the littlest Sorrengail. I personally didn’t know how leadership hadn’t said anything to her yet.

Then again, I was the only one in the kitchen looking when she slipped roots and mushrooms into her opponents' foods.

I was once again thankful for that year of poison lessons. It had helped me keep up with the girl trained by the Scribes themselves.

I glanced at Rhiannon as Violet’s opponent didn’t appear on the mat. She raised her eyebrow at me and I shrugged back. To everyone else, it seemed like he must have caught a sudden illness. Violet must have fucked up the timing of her poison.

Xaden Riorson began handing his weapons to Garrick, saying he didn’t mind sparring with Violet today. It was within his right as Wingleader, and even though protests went up around the gym, Emetterio allowed him on the mat.

Violet rushed at him, and I barely watched her humiliating attempt before discretely sliding to Garrick’s side so we could watch together. Standing like this, our height difference was much more pronounced. My head barely reached the top of his chin.

That moment in the clearing on Conscription Day had suddenly come to mind when I saw Xaden walking towards Violet. The way he had murder in his eyes, watching the daughter of the woman who killed his father be welcomed into Basgiath. And then those hazel eyes watching me, a similar yet less dramatic story. It suddenly occurred to me that I may walked into Garrick’s trap when I asked to be trained by him.

“Was this always the plan?” I hissed underneath my breath. “Riorson watches Violet while you watch me.”

“I don’t quite understand what you are asking me, Cadet.” He kept his eyes trained on the mat ahead of us.

“The daughters of the two biggest generals in the war are in the same year, and somehow two sons of the rebels seem to have taken an interest in them.”

“This seems to have nothing to do with that.” Humor laced his words as he continued to stare at Xaden and Violet, but when he looked down at me it all vanished. “And I seem to remember that you were the one that approached me first.”

He had a point. “Riorson didn’t plan this?”

“Apparently not.”

Interesting. I couldn’t help but feel relief.

We watched in silence as Xaden stole each of Violet’s daggers except for one, leaving her almost defenseless. They were snapping at each other as they rolled around on the mat. From here, it looked like a lover’s spat.

“They should keep this to themselves,” I muttered.

“Agreed.”

A moment of silence, and then:

“Did you agree to help me because of my father?” I finally blurted out.

“Did you come to me because of my rebellion mark?” He countered.

“No.”

“Exactly. I don’t believe in holding people accountable for their parents' actions. We’re all in here together now, so we might as well all try to survive.” Xaden had gotten off of Violet and started his way back to Garrick, which led Garrick to take a final look at me. “Get out of your own way, Capplynger. You’re focusing on the wrong things here.”

He met Xaden halfway and handed him back his weapons before they both strolled out of the gym, never looking back.

Masterlist

#fourth wing #iron flame #the empyrean #fourth wing fan fiction #garrick tavis #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #fanfiction

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enkisstories · 1 year ago

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The wrecking of the Steadfast

I just published Chapter 4, in which

…Finn must come to terms with his undiagnosed force sensitivity

Hux corrected the tugboat’s course to avoid collision with a large piece of scrap metal from the Steadfast that came tumbling their way. Then he took up the conversation again:

“Damn… Why didn’t Ren ever say something this useful! You’d think he’d be capable of doing the same things an untrained force sensitive can? But, no, all he ever contributed was swordplay to achieve victories a blaster wielding unit would have scored just a minute or so later. That, and keeping the maintenance crew busy.”

“Venturing a guess, I’ve heard tell that the Dark Side dishes out quick and easy power, but exerts a heavy price later. The more Ren lost himself in it, the more he might have lost an idea of the big picture, too, and forgot all the small ways to nudge things into the desired direction.”

“Makes sense.”

The way I’m paying the price for my folly now. Let’s face it, for all practical purposes I’ve become what I’ve been fighting: a rebel, the distinction between having joined the Resistance and acting as its ally being near meaningless in our situation. I really need to take care not to get too comfortable in this role.

…the rebels dismantle a Star Destroyer

Rose yanked a control panel off a console and gave it a little momentum. The panel soared towards the navigation station, where Hux had removed the remains of that one’s destroyed panel. He caught the replacement and slammed it into position with a little more force than was advisable, unable to correctly judge his strength or lack thereof in the vacuum of space. Losing no time, BB-8 plugged it in. When the computer lit up again, Hux pulled up a navigation software and maps of New Harvest. Unfamiliar with working in a zero G environment he lost his footing a few times, until BB-8 spat out a liquid cable, that he subsequently tied loosely around the human’s hip. “I can’t tell whether that was supposed to be help- or spiteful…” Beeping the equivalent of an impish giggle, BB-8 went to help Rose re-establish the connection between the navigation computer and the systems that received their instructions from it.

…Hux becomes housetrained

“Wait, are you saying that we are something like noble barbarians to you?” Rose uttered.

“With an innocent charm. Those last few days I felt… sheltered. But it cannot last. It’s cute, just not sustainable. The Resistance is doomed to fail same as the republics failed.”

“Then help us create an environment in which our way of life will be sustainable! Even if only to scoff at each of our ideas, prompting us to improve them just to shut you up!”

“That would be the day, wouldn’t it?”

“Armitage…”

“Let’s finish this mission. And stop being so damn paranoid about me killing you guys left and right already! It’s irritating!”

…and Poe struggles with the aftermath of his concussion.

“I take it as a tactician you rarely leave your bridge? This is going to be rough! I need a co-pilot, especially one who understands what each of the screens is trying to tell me.”

It wasn’t just that everything was arranged completely different, although still making sense, as there were only so many ways one could put the different panels and still be efficient. The damn First Order font, that was so similar, yet different, irritated Poe to no small degree. He had no muscle memory to apply to the Upsilon, and additionally would have to waste precious split seconds just deciphering the unfamiliar letters. No, he definitely needed a co-pilot now, and something primeval and ancient within Poe insisted that this co-pilot being Armitage was a huge bonus.

Five minutes later Hux once again knew what Poe had meant when he had said things would become turbulent. The world was spinning way too fast, with far too many opponents coming at them (or the same opponent appearing to be in several places at once). He held fast to the console and kept focusing on the numbers, for the first time in his life grateful to be the second row player only. Keeping track of all the information and relaying the most important bits to the actual pilot was the co-pilot’s main task, as expected, but equally important was to snarl “Breath!” regularly, whenever Poe started looking a bit too green around the nose. The last thing they needed now was him retching all over the cockpit.

“Too many… too fast…” Poe gasped, painfully aware that no enemy craft would be left by now, were he sitting in his trusty Freitek T-70.

Also: the first kiss!

“Yes. Pondering where to go from here, I think I’d like to extend this alliance until I can see Ren’s corpse with my own eyes. That, or sufficient proof of his passing.”

“Still that obsessed…”

Hux shrugged. Poe suspected that the General had practiced even this oh-so natural looking gesture in front of a mirror a lot.

“Clinging to that obsession is the easiest way to retain my sanity right now. My head is spinning, differently from yours, though. Nothing’s quite fitting into place anymore.”

“How so?”

“Ever since we joined forces, I felt liberated. As if an invisible whip in my back just wasn’t there anymore. The prospect of going back from that to my old life too soon is unpleasant.”

The good news is that you wouldn’t go back to your old life, but to prison, the moment you called the alliance off, Poe thought. Out loud he said: “We’ve gotten used to have you around”, then his eyes went wide. “Bucket!” he cried, followed by a gurgle.

“Well”, Hux commented while handing the bucket back without looking at it. “It was worth a try.”

One vomiting fit later, Poe raised his head.

“I once had a near-boyfriend”, he said, feeling silly for withholding the name, when the whole galaxy knew who that man had been. “But I was too indecisive, or maybe took things to be for granted too much, so nothing came from it and now he’s spoken for by another. I don’t want that to happen again. I… Uh… somebody hold that bucket for a spell? It kinda gets in the way of the message.”

And with these words, he slung his arms around the other man, looked up and kissed him. Given what Poe had spent his time with before, the contact could have been more pleasing. A lot more.

Why, Hux wondered. Why does this keep happening? I have the skills, the determination and the patience, but something in the universe must be against me. Every time I get what I want, it gets delivered in the worst fashion imaginable.

“One day, little rat, you’ll be the end of me. And I of you.”

Read it here: Chapter 1-4 or only Chapter 4

#armitage hux #gingerpilot #star wars #star wars sequel trilogy

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c0zmo-writes · 9 months ago

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Harpy AU part 2 (3/7)

Here is part 2 of the Beetlejuice Harpy AU! Hope you enjoy. This talks a lot about how governments work. I can go more into culture later if anyone is interested in that.

@possum-quesadilla @crawlingcarcass

In a place inspired by Iguazu Falls, there is a large cluster of almost 30 harpy flocks. Despite them all living in the same place, flocks are different in their own way. They have unique languages, genetic traits, and governments. There are four main regions, treetop, forest floor, wetlands, and cliffside.

Flocks are named after constellations and one flock will have between 16 and 28 harpies. Flocks are usually 4-7 families, but that’s not always the case. Some flocks, like Capricornus, are split between two different regions. Other flocks are so similar to each other, it can be hard to differentiate between them.

Treetop

Some traits of treetop harpies include: longer claws/talons, more articulate joints, wings designed for soaring, above average hand-eye coordination and depth perception. Unfortunately, they are more susceptible to heart problems. They typically have weaker leg muscles.

Lives: In tree houses.

General diet: bugs, birds, fruit

Treetop flocks: Apus, Aquila, Ara, Corvus, Draco, Volans.

Forest Floor

Some traits of forest floor harpies include: shorter claws/talons, stronger and longer legs, fluffy feathers at their ankles, and smaller, weaker wings. They’re more prone to vitamin d deficiency.

Lives: in huts made from wood, leaves, and mud.

General diet: birds, bugs, small critters, fruits, nuts, seeds, plants

Forest Floor flocks: Canis Major, Canis Minor, Centaurus, Lepus, Lupus, Orion.

Wetlands

Some traits of wetlands harpies include: long claws/talons, webbed hands and feet, water resistant feathers, wide feet, can hold breath for around 6-10 minutes

Lives: in burrows by the river

General diet: fish, birds, insects

Wetlands flocks: Eridanus, Hydra, Aquarius, Capricornus, Cetus, Cygnus, Delphinus, Dorado, Grus, Pisces

Cliffside

Some traits of cliffside harpies include: very long claws/talons, great hand/foot strength, prehensile tails, large hands and feet, great night vision

Lives: in dens created in cliffsides. Homes are typically connected by a tunnel system.

General diet: birds, small critters, whatever vegetation they can get

Cliffside Flocks: Equuleus, Hercules, Mensa, Sagittarius, Capricornus, Ursa Major, Ursa Minor

I’ll focus on Canis Major and Canis Minor for now, as those two are similar and Juno is from Canis Minor. These two flocks are very close. They have a similar language, and the communities are very close knit. They have their differences, though.

Canis Major

There is one leader and one assistant.

Power is given based on which harpies are best at hunting. Every year on the summer solstice, the ten best contenders are released into the forest. They spend a day hunting. The winner is the harpy who brings back the most food. The assistant is the harpy who brings back the second most food.

If more than half of the flock decides that the leader isn’t a good fit, a vote will be held on the autumn equinox. If more than half of the harpies vote out the leader, the assistant will take over as leader until a better harpy is selected by the flock.

Members of the Canis Minor flock are allowed to take over as Assistant. They can be promoted to Leader if members of the Canis Major flock allow it.

Canis Minor

There is only one leader.

Power is given based on which harpy is strongest. Age and relations are determining factors as well. Harpies in this flock are able to sign up to fight. They will fight until the five strongest are selected. Every 4 years on the autumn equinox, an event called The Crimson Week happens. On the first day, the weakest of the five strongest will battle the current Leader. On the next day, the second weakest will battle the current Leader. Third day, third weakest will battle, fourth day, second strongest will battle. The fifth and sixth days are used for the current Leader to rest and recover. Finally, they battle the strongest of the five. Whoever wins is the leader.

If more than half of the flock decides that the leader isn’t a good fit, a vote can be held at any time. If more than half of the flock votes out the leader, the spot will go either to the leader’s mate, the oldest member of the flock, or the second strongest in the flock.

There are 27 other flocks and I don’t want to talk about all of them right now, so I’ll just do a general thing for ‘em. If anyone is interested in this, I can absolutely go into more detail about other parts of this.

Treetop

Power is generally given based off of age, with older harpies having more respect and power. Younger harpies are expected to care for their elders.

Wetlands

Power is generally given based on which harpy can construct the safest and most efficient houses. As these harpies live right next to rivers, it is very important that homes can’t be easily destroyed by water.

Cliffside

Power typically isn’t given to one person. Instead, communities work together to build dens, gather resources, and keep other flocks safe.

That’s what I’ve got for now! If there’s anything you want to be clarified, expanded on, or talked about, just send an ask! I promise I don’t bite :)

#beetlejuice au #beetlejuice fanfic #birds of a feather au #harpy au #beetlejuice harpy au

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ginnyw-potter · 6 months ago

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Anonymous secret:

My boyfriend at the time snuck into my room and slept over one night. I woke up with really intense pain and I’m trying to go back to sleep while my boyfriend is spooning me from behind.

After an hour or so the pain is not decreasing, it’s so intense that I can’t move from my fetal spooning position. Then I feel it… it’s like a waterfall between my legs. I got my fucken period and I’m butt naked in bed while spooning my boyfriend. I start to panic and look down at the sheets. The sheets the blanket are all covered in blood, it looks like fucken WW2.

I start to panic as I realise my boyfriend’s todger that I was spooning also had blood on it.

I’m panicking.

My periods were really heavy in my teenage years.

My stupid teenage brain decides the most logical thing to do is move him onto his back while he’s sleeping and use my wonder women strength from going to the gym for 4 days to lift the sheets under him and change it before he notices.

You would think the most logical thing for me to do was to go to the toilet clean up, grab a pad and underwear, or tampon. Nope, because I lost all logical thought process because I was horrified of what my boyfriend would think.

I move my boyfriend onto his back and think this is going to be easy.

WRONG.

Getting the sheets off with dead body weight is fucken hard. I decided I need to use my legs for more leverage, and stand on the bed and pull the sheets under him as hard as I can.

Remember how I said I forgot to use a pad or tampon?

Well, waterfall number 2 started trickling down my legs at a rapid speed.

I start to panic and my newly renowned muscles I got from going to the gym for 4 days come into full force and I pull the sheets so hard my boyfriend falls to the floor with a big thump and my side table falls over along with my lamp.

I’m freaking out with the blood flowing down my legs, and there’s no way my boyfriend isn’t awake with how hard he fell.

This day couldn’t possibly get worse.

Oh no, it could.

My door swings open and my religious father who thinks sex before marriage is a sin is looking at his daughter who is completely starkers with blood coming down her legs and tear in her eyes with her “friend” (he didn’t know he was my boyfriend) sitting up holding his head and bleeding from his forehead looking dazed.

My dad gets this crazy look in his eyes and he’s pissed.

I realise in a split second… fuck he thinks he took my virtue and he’s going to kill him.

In that split second I think of the only logical thing, and I throw the bloody sheets in still clutching to over my dad and tell my boyfriend to RUN.

He panics, and then finally comes to his sense and runs, knocking my dad over who is still covered in my blood sheet.

My sister comes out of her room and sees someone on the floor with bloody bed sheets around them and in her half dazed sleep starts kicking my them (my dad) as hard as she can (our neighbours had got robbed a few weeks prior and she assumed it was a robber).

My mom runs out of her room and starts panicking and pulls my sister off of my dad.

Everyone is screaming at the same time.

Then we hear sirens.

My neighbours called the police thinks someone was robbing us after they heard screaming and saw a naked person running down the street.

Of course these officers are completely gorgeous and start questioning me about what happened.

One of the officers looks uncomfortable and asks me if I needed to use to toilet (I forgot my bloody blanket is wrapped around me atm), and my teenage hormones kick in and I tell him I’m fine and run my hands through my hair in a way it my stupid teenage self thinks looks hot. He looks like he wants to say something but he’s too horrified to.

Then I feel it again. Waterfall #3. I look down my bloody blanket and start to panic, and I realise the hand I just ran through my hair trying to look sexy, had blood on it. I run into the toilet and turn on the shower, and start praying to god to let me drown.

I told my parents it was my first time… spoiler alert, it wasn’t.

OMG anon this story is sooo wild.

#anon #ask #reply

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spicedrobot · 2 years ago

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what was lost, what was gained ch. 4

SO i actually split this chapter into two! so that means another maul POV for the next installment! beta by @withercrown 💕

His world was small. Maul knew it hadn’t always been this way. He felt the hardened muscles beneath his skin, his hair trigger instincts—alert, always prepared to strike.

There were also the dreams. They contained fragments of his past that he was unable to piece together. The glow of ray shields, a looming, pale human with lined, tired eyes. Obi-Wan, bright and smooth with youth, shouting soundlessly. Tall, unyielding droids. Always attacking, always hurting. Even when Maul ripped them to pieces, they returned. Someone was fixing them. Someone who whispered, conspired. Someone who waited in the dark, who could hardly be differentiated from it. Black, crimson. Yellow. It hurt Maul’s head to dwell too long on the last, so he didn’t. There were more pleasant things to occupy his time.

This small world kept him fed. Three meals a day. An astounding amount, he thought, without knowing why. He feasted. He felt stronger, more centered. The aches of his mechanical half were lessened by proper maintenance. Pain he never realized he carried softened, a long held breath released. He couldn’t leave his cell, but he wasn’t harmed. The guards were fearful of him, but they never acted upon their feelings.

This small world was rife with small mercies. Each felt mollifying, ridiculous, as if he should reel back, snap his teeth from the sentiment alone. He had let that instinct take him, when he had first awoke in the medbay. Still indulged, when the mood struck. Especially in the presence of the commander, who entertained him so wonderfully. Anger in the line of his shoulders, in the terse, crooked frown on his scarred, handsome face. Maul wanted to torment him, so he did.

Giving into instinct, however, was far more complicated with Obi-Wan. When Maul had first seen him, he became awash in emotion. Anger first, blinding in its suddenness and intensity. Fear too, just as potent. He was overwhelmed, and that hatred turned inward, felt so much like weakness, tearing at his nerves.

Then came Obi-Wan’s soft words. His softer touch. Gentleness in thought and Force and hand. Maul’s instinct had not been to yield, but yield he had. Maybe it had been the strangeness of the general in the Force. Twinges of emotions within careful calm. Sorrow, confusion, hurt—aching and deep—smoothed over. Accepted.

Maul wanted to know why.

But his questions went unanswered. Quieted by clever words or smooth deflections. Even when he raised his voice, it didn’t give him what he wanted. That damned neutral mask would appear, and a silence would descend. A durasteel stubbornness. It was like Obi-Wan would disappear, and a statue would take his place. In that moment, worse than the lack of memory, was the sensation of loneliness. Maul didn’t want to be alone.

No… it was something more than that. There was something about Obi-Wan that connected them. Something the commander or his troops didn’t provide. Not camaraderie, but perhaps… the knowledge that somehow, only Obi-Wan understood him. They were kindred.

It felt secretive, embarrassing. His mind rallied against it, even as he longed to know more. He wanted to discover what they shared, map its outline, test its strength.

What followed was a keen sense of possessiveness. Outside of whatever connection they had, Obi-Wan was also handsome, powerful. He offered aid to all who asked him of it, even if he suffered for his efforts. He performed for others unquestioningly, as easy and unremarkable as breathing. Perhaps that was why Maul couldn’t help but torment the lovesick commander. If anyone could be a rival for attention, it was him.

But Obi-Wan acted differently with Maul that he did with his soldiers. He felt no qualms about entering his cell. He tended Maul’s wounds personally, even after the worst of them had healed. He even stood alongside the repair droid as Maul’s legs underwent maintenance. Most incriminating, however, was his casual physicality. A touch to the shoulder. His cheek. Adjusting him just so. Innocuous. Gentle.

Completely unnecessary.

But it wasn’t just attraction, or pity. There was something more. It was how he looked at Maul’s legs. Or rather, how he didn’t. Whenever he undressed for the repair droid, Obi-Wan kept his eyes trained elsewhere. It wasn’t for his own modesty, either. He had been naked for each of his full body check-ups.

It made Maul itch. There was something unspoken. Something he needed to know. And their time together was growing shorter by the hour.

The truth would have to be pried from Obi-Wan—but gently. As gently as Maul had been handled.

He peered at Obi-Wan through the ray shields. The man sat cross legged in front of the cell, not in the commander’s seat, but on the floor. He was deep in meditation. Another connection they shared: their need for stillness, for centering the mind. The red, hazy tint softened the lines of Obi-Wan’s face, the sleeplessness beneath his eyes. Maul knew he was the cause of this distress. It saddened him. It pleased him.

“Obi-Wan,” Maul murmured. The Jedi opened his eyes and looked up, head tilted in question.

Maul needed him closer. The ray shields dulled his own senses. “Would you mediate with me?” He gestured to the inside of the cell.

The man smiled, tired but true. “Of course.”

As easily as that, they knelt, facing each other. Eyes closed, palms up. Relaxed. They were synchronous in a way that exhilarated and terrified. Though Maul hadn’t planned for it, he did give in to meditation. He was not welcome at Obi-Wan’s side. He knew that, even before he had picked apart Cody’s mind. Their time together was borrowed. But that part of him quieted with each shared breath, in the ebb and flow of manifested calm.

He returned to himself before Obi-Wan did. He watched the man until he could bear it no longer: his light eyelashes, his freckles and scars, his hair threaded through with slivers of gray. Then he stood up and sat on the edge of his cot. The change in position put a hair more space between them. He could look down on Obi-Wan. And when the man would stir—Maul’s legs would be the first thing he saw.

It was like watching the sure stroke of a chrono as Obi-Wan’s eyes opened and focused, then slid away like running water. “Maul…?”

“May we speak candidly, Obi-Wan?” Maul asked. He kept his voice soft and even. Not quite a whisper. “Our time grows short.”

Obi-Wan looked up at him. Maul met that unsteady gaze with certainty. Obi-Wan didn’t move to stand, and Maul didn’t suggest it. The man stayed kneeling, almost bracketed by Maul’s legs. Just enough space for deniability.

Maul felt steady and clear. His words came in a flow.

“I am your enemy. That much is certain. I have caused you great pain… as you have caused it in me. We are entwined by fate.” He touched his torso, dragged a finger along the minute slice of scar tissue that was visible above his metal half. Obi-Wan’s gaze shot down, caught the gesture, froze. “Do you covet it, Obi-Wan? The body you’ve ruined? The creature you’ve made of me?”

A stillness settled over the cell, a pressure more intense than what they shared in meditation. How Obi-Wan’s blue eyes widened, how they gleamed! Maul had only guessed at the identity of his almost-killer… but Obi-Wan had admitted it without saying a single word.

There was a sadness in the discovery, a loss of ignorance that kept whatever tentative truce between them alive. But a glee rose from it too, unbidden. A victory had been won here.

Maul leaned forward. He grasped Obi-Wan’s chin. His gloved thumb slid beneath his lower lip, disturbing the bristles of his beard. A mirror of the first gentle touch Maul could remember in this small world.

“So you won’t deny it. Your crime. Your shame. Your desire.”

There was resistance, however slight, but it was quelled as Maul tightened his grip. The bald shock in Obi-Wan’s expression changed, hardened. This now, was an expression Maul recognized, even if he had never seen it before. Though it was a false anger. He felt Obi-Wan swallow, smelled the prickle of fresh sweat, warm and saline. Not anger. Nervousness.

“You don’t understand. You can’t,” Obi-Wan murmured. The muscles in his jaw jumped in Maul’s hand.

“Do you understand it yourself?” Maul growled back. “You have what I do not. Power. Freedom. I have only this…” He let his eyes travel around his cell before he met Obi-Wan’s gaze once more. “I have only you.” He loosened his grip, though he was loath to do it. Afraid to do it. His own heartbeats quickened when Obi-Wan did not pull away. “And even that is temporary.”

There was a line that Cody would not cross, would not even consider. Obi-Wan toed this line with Maul. The want was there, palpable in the pulse of his heart, the dilation of his eyes, the quickness of his breath.

It was a line Maul thought little of crossing. He pressed his thumb on Obi-Wan’s lower lip. He was unsure if the pressure itself opened Obi-Wan’s mouth, or if the man had simply done what he was demanding, what was instinctive to him.

Maul leaned down and brought their lips together.

#fics #obimaul #maulobi #wwlwwg #darth maul #obi-wan kenobi #commander cody #star wars

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