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n1ghtfurys · 29 days

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Apocalypse with König

Part 1: Word count: 9475

There's a little bit of gore, mentions kidnapping, weight loss due to lack of food

You'd found him on the road.You'd been planning on making it to your grandparents, since they were in the country. You figured you'd be safer with them if they were still alive and if not you'd at least have a house, maybe their food was still good. They had a greenhouse and so maybe you'd even be able to figure it out.

You hadn't expected to find anyone on your way. Especially since everyone of importance had been evacuated to quarantined cities, and most of the other people who hadn't made the cut had either: started or turned. An unlucky few probably fell prey to the military, and other people who had decided it was better if everyone was dead.

The motorways were mostly deserted and as much as you were out in the open, you felt safe enough. There were deserted cars for cover, which you'd pick through, and sometimes get lucky in finding a first aid kit or something wearable.

You'd lost your mother and siblings in the chaos of the first days, you hadn't heard from them in months and figured…hoped they'd gotten to safety. You knew deep down that they'd probably died looking for you but it was, and still is, easier to hope.

You'd never been great at maps but you could remember places from how they looked and the road signs were all relatively intact. Unlike the movies with zombies, the government hadn't tried bombing or burning down populated areas. They'd simply taken the rich and important and hid them, stowed them away, and left the regular people to die. At the start there were churches and homeless shelters trying to help; Taking in traveling families and stragglers, trying to at least; especially, in their own cities but all it took in those places was for one infected to get in and they'd all be gone.

You'd tried one for a while, even made a few friends, but you'd barely managed to get out with your own life so you didn't figure anyone else had.

When you found König, him finding you might be more apt but still, you were running low on water. You didn't trust yourself to leave the main roads and since you hadn't come across any running water you didn't have the chance. It was autumn so you'd scavenged blackberries from the bushes on the side of the road and occasionally you'd come across a granola bar in one of the cars but other than that you'd been hungry and tired. Sleeping in cars hadn't done you much good either.

It has been quiet, eerily so. You hadn't come across an infected in at least a few days, which had surprised you but you didn't want to jinx your sudden good luck. Dealing with the infected was hard, at least before him it was. They were often stronger than you, and even if they weren't they were hell bent on ending you. You had managed to get your hands on a hatchet from the back room of a hardware store somewhere along the road.

You were sleeping in the back of an abandoned car before you heard his footsteps. You weren't sure if he'd seen you or not, you hoped not. Most people on the road were desperate, like you, so they were often willing to use whatever force they deemed necessary. Of the bodies on the road, at least the ones you'd come across in the past few days, only a few of them were probably due to being infected, the rest had various stab wounds; while others had arrows sticking out of them- You wondered who had provoked who.

The memories of all the dead you'd passed on the road in the last few days came flooding back. You had thought, at the time, that the chances of the guy who was practically stomping around out there, was probably the guy who killed all of those people; People like you, who were just trying to get from point A, to B. You tried to stay low hoping that he wouldn't see you. you could just about see him in the rear view mirror.

He was tall, like really tall and very built. The bruising on some of the bodies made more sense considering the size of him. You waited until he had disappeared completely from view before you got the courage to open the door.

It opened more quietly than you had expected, much to your appreciation. You pushed forward, essentially following the man. He was slow and gradually more meticulous the further along the road he got. When he had passed you he was just casting fleeting glances around the sea of deserted cars but now he has started peering through the glass and checking under cars. You had managed to stay relatively out of sight or at least you thought you had.

You hid behind a car when he turned back on himself. You hoped he wouldn't see you. He didn't move for a while and then he chuckled deeply. You heard what sounded like the creaking of a slowly deteriorating car as he assumably lowered his weight onto the hood. “I know you're there maus” his accent was heavy but his voice was definitely not what you'd expected. You'd expected deep and gravely. It had only met one of your expectations.

Regardless, his acknowledgement of your presence made your blood run cold. You were already on edge, the lack of food and good sleep had left you in a state of near constant anxiety. You didn't say anything in response hoping that maybe he would just forget about it and leave you alone. “Come out, kleine maus” his voice was softer this time but he was still a threat.

Maybe if you managed to surprise him ,If you injured him enough then he wouldn't be able to come after you. You settled on making a run for it.

You often wonder if things would be different now, if you had chosen to attack him instead of trying to outrun him. If maybe you would have joined the bodies on the road or even made it to your grandparents.

It ate at you for the first few months with him. You resented him for taking you away from the road, for being nice to you when you treated him with such venom. For keeping you there, at first you had felt like a prisoner, refused to talk to him- look at him; even to eat for the first few days but that didn't last as long as you'd hoped it would.

You'd hated him for months. Despised him so entirely that you couldn't count the number of times you'd considered his death.

You'd attempted to escape a few times only to end up lost in the dark, then thrown over his shoulder the next morning when he'd somehow find you.

You hated it. Hated him for it. Just hated everything. In hindsight it made sense, he was probably just lonely and really, you were too but at the time it felt like hell.

When he brought you back; Originally, you'd kicked and screamed doing no real damage past hurting his ears. You did the same every other time he found you. You both had a routine by your third escape; he would find you curled up under a tree, trying not to freeze to death (after the second time he started putting out wooly clothes, in case you tried to run off again) and then he would carry you back to the house. You'd be locked in the sitting room for about 10 minutes, before he'd open the door and wait for you to walk through it. When you inevitably refused, he would just throw you over his shoulder again.

You would be put down in the bathroom next to a hot bath, which you would refuse on the grounds that you don't want to like him. Despite him being incredibly nice to you (past the kidnapping part) you didn't want to like him. You found out after the first night that he'd give you about an hour; in that hour , you assumed, he hoped you would bathe but when he came back he'd always find you wherever he left you- which for the first few times was the floor but later became a rocking chair.

It was a nice chair, rustic. It looked almost as if it had been hand carved, probably not but maybe. After his failed attempt at a bath he would move onto food.

In between your attempts to run away, you'd begrudgingly accept food. Usually, it would go cold before you would even consider touching it, but it was never too long before you to got sick of ignoring how your stomach growled.

You assume he took note of what you liked eating or at least did his best, because more often than not there were things you liked on your plate. You're not sure how he knew really, if it was how quickly you ate or which order you chose to eat things. He never really said anything, not that you would have responded but still.

Since the last time, you'd been trying to figure it out, racking your brain and trying to remember which way he had walked on the first day. If you ran fast enough you could probably make it back to the road, or you would end up terribly lost and scared and utterly screwed.

You waited until all movement in his room had ceased and then made a break for it. He hadn't taken any of your stuff. You thought that it was because he found you entirely unthreatening or he thought you were too weak to use it- either way it pissed you off. Sure you'd been living on scraps long enough for it to take its toll on your body but you weren't weak. Boney, sure but weak? No.

You managed to get out of the house with ease, as much as you thought he'd kidnapped you; he gave you free range of the house and the garden. It was nice, you could see yourself living there if it wasn't for him.

You make it to the forest and come to the conclusion that it was downright idiotic to try this again. The leaves of the trees made such a thick canopy that they all but separated the sky from ground, so much so that when you made your way into the forest you could barely make out your hand in front of your face.

You ignored the ringing sound in your ears and the way your heartbeat was hammering in your chest . You grip the hatchet you'd found on your trip and venture deeper into the forest. You hadn't heard any howls as of yet, so that was a good sign- it was actually relatively still.

You made your way deeper and deeper. Sinking slowly into the monotonous task of walking and the comfort of silence. You came to what looks to be the center of the forest, you can't remember whether you had come this way when he took you from the motorway.

The bushes behind you rustled and panic seeped into you. You recognised the uneven steps and incoherent muttering almost immediately- infected. You freeze, maybe it wouldn't see you. You thought you only heard one set of shuffling feet. Maybe it wasn't even coming in that direction, maybe you would have gotten away but your luck was never that good.

A scrawny, unkempt man stumbled out from the bushes. You tried to stay completely still but it was no use, he'd either spotted you or heard you earlier. His gaze was trained on you. He was probably about 17 before he got it, he was missing a shoe. It would have been funny if it wasn't for your impending doom.

He'd stopped muttering, the froth around his mouth dropped down his chin as he drooled. The government had tried experimenting on the first hundred-ish infected. The only thing they had determined was that it was similar to rabies. There were some consistent traits, infected wouldn't go near water, you could even hear them screaming whenever it rained. At first it had upset you listening to them wail but it had become a regular occurrence especially since it was autumn then.

It was all good and well knowing that they didn't like water but it did you no use then. You didn't know where the nearest source of water was. You couldn't hear the sound of a stream or anything similar.

The boy hadn't moved the mixture of froth and drool that had collected around his mouth made you feel sick. It was vile, worse to think that he probably had a family or friends that he probably hurt without even knowing. He had a bite mark right above his ankle, on the foot without a shoe.

You wondered how long he'd been wandering around. If maybe he was like you and he just happened to be less lucky than you. Maybe one of them had gotten him from under a car or while he was sleeping.

He took a step forward and you were forced back to the reality of your situation. That you were probably going to die, in the woods alone. You stepped back almost on instinct. He took another step, then another and then broke out into a full on sprint. You did the same, you bolted forward until the shrubbery got too thick and then wrapped around a tree and came back on yourself.

You looked back to find him only a few feet behind you, he was breathing heavily but quiet. You always hated when they got quiet, meant they were focused, determined. He was probably hungry too.

Your foot caught something as you ran and you hit the floor hard. You scrambled back as fast as you could but he was on you before you could even get up.

That was it, you were gonna die in the forest alone. All because you didn't want to accept help from that shockingly, nice kidnapper.

You locked your arms out in hopes you could hold him back but he was heavy and strong and even though you'd been eating again, you hadn't had time to get much weight back on, let alone muscle.

He wasn't focused on your neck specifically, he was searching around for any exposed flesh. Your mind flicked back to the people you'd seen on the road, the few you had figured weren't by the man. They'd all been missing flesh, the infected here were hungry. They definitely weren't fast enough to catch wildlife and these places didn't get much foot traffic.

You heard a branch snap. It was most likely just a deer or something being far smarter than you and leaving the area before it too got itself killed but for whatever reason the movement had caught the boys attention too. He stopped trying to push towards you and instead looked up at the source of the noise.

A large boot crossed your line of vision before it made contact with the boy. It sent him flying back off of you. He didn't even have time to react before a machete was pushed through his chest. The sound of ribs cracking under the strain made you feel sick, the boy tenses and let out a strained sound. The man twisted the knife, another crack but this time he went limp.

You wanted to be sick, wanted to cry, wanted to run but your chest hurt and your legs wouldn't move. The man looked over at you then back at the body in front him

“Sorry Maus.”

You looked back at him entirely dazed- He'd got a mask on. He had never worn a mask around you before. Looked more like a sheet he'd thrown over his head with some stitched eye holes. It's funny, it should make him less intimidating but the fact that he's upwards of 6’6” eliminated any sort of humour in the situation.

You were completely frantic and scared. Tears welled in your eyes, you tried to will them back down but you couldn't. You didn't want to cry in front of him, didn't want him to think of you as any weaker than he already did but you couldn't stop them. Overwhelmed was an understatement. You were relieved but still so terrified.

You looked past the wall of a man in front of you and watched the boy's body twitch. He was definitely dead but that didn't make it better. You felt sick, disgusted by the sight of his mangled chest. Plus the adrenaline was leaving your body faster than you would have hoped. It left you aware of how fast your heartbeat was, how much your arms hurt from having to hold him back and a dull throbbing in your wrist.

He retracted his hand and made his way over to a log. He sat facing you, you couldn't make out his eyes under the mask, you didn't even know what colour they were.

He didn't say anything, just watched you. He didn't speak; didn't make any more moves towards you- just sat there and watched. It was weird but you felt safer having him there. Maybe it was because he'd saved your life or because it was in his interest just as much as yours to kill the infected on sight but it was still a comfort.

You eventually pulled yourself up from the floor, you did your best to avoid putting pressure on your wrist. With the last of the adrenaline having worn off, the dull ache had morphed into shooting pains.

He watched you get up, probably watched how your legs trembled slightly. “Nobody's keeping you here Maus” His voice was soft, nice and somewhat familiar. He didn't talk much, at least not to you, but he'd mutter around the house or humm songs in what you assumed was German.

You immediately started off walking in a direction you hoped was the motorway but there was no way to tell.The forest was thick and it was dark and there could be more infected; not to mention the state of your wrist. It wasn't going to be much use to you if it was broken. You barely made it out of the clearing before you stopped and turned to look at the man still on the log.

He cocked his head to one side and examined you. You had supported your damaged wrist with the other arm and lifted it to dull the throbbing, at least a little. Not that it had helped much but still you had tried.

“You're hurt?” He sounded almost amused by it. That had annoyed you, how was any of this funny? You had almost died and he was amused by it or maybe it was the crying- either way it pissed you off to no end.

You moved to flip him off but it sent waves of pain up your arm. Maybe it was broken. He watches you wince and lets out an amused huff.

“So yes?” he still sounded the same, slightly softer after watching you wince but still. You bet he had a stupid smirk on his face.

“Why the mask?” It's the first thing you had said to him since you met. It seemed to shock him. He took a while to answer you.

“Military. Used to be part of my uniform.” It didn't really explain much past the sheer size of him. Actually it didn't explain anything at all. He wasn't still in the military since it didn't exist anymore and you had absolutely no context to why he put on the mask in the first place. You nodded regardless.

You weren't really sure what you wanted. If you wanted to go back to the house where you knew it was at least safe or if you wanted to run. Ok you did know, you had wanted to run but that feeling of safety he had, unfortunately, presented you with made you want to stay. You hadn't felt truly safe in months and it was nice, even if you didn't want the source of safety to be him.

“What are you doing, Maus?” It was as if he could tell what you were thinking. Maybe he could.

“What?” You responded quickly. Pretending to be confused by the vague question.

“You wanted to leave, no? This is your chance. Leave.” he sounded a little flat, there was always something to his voice when he spoke, some sort of emotion but it was gone. “Nobody is going to stop you Maus.”

You're not sure why but it upset you, that he was suddenly so flat. “What happens if I stay?”

His head fell to the side. “Change of heart?”

You nodded. Really you just wanted to not be attacked. You didn't exactly enjoy life on the road, not that you enjoyed life with him any more but at least you didn't have to deal with the stresses of the road if you stayed.

“So I don't have to carry you back?” He chuckled and you just nodded again. It had become part of your ritual, a part that you didn't want to admit you enjoyed but it was fun to see him lift you with such ease.

Still, it wouldn't have made sense to make him carry you back after you agreed not to run off. “No.” You nodded and got up from the log, you kept your arm in your clutches, it still throbbed.

The walk back was entirely silent. You kept your eyes trained on the floor and he walked slightly ahead of you. You weren't sure why at the time but you had appreciated it.

When you got back, he fell right back into his old routines. You found yourself back in the living room, although this time when he had gone to lock the door he paused and simply left instead. You considered following him, watching him draw the bath but you decided against it. You weren't sure why you wanted to be around him, maybe it was the whole saving your life thing or maybe it was because he was sweet. Not that you would ever admit it.

He came back right on time, around ten minutes and stood at the door waiting for you. You stared back at him, you didn't really know how you wanted to play this. He wasn't keeping you here, so you didn't want to be inconvenient but you still didn't like him. Not that you had as much of a reason to but regardless it didn't change how you felt about him.

He stared back for a while before he sighed and pushed himself up off of the door frame. You looked back down at your feet and then stood up. You heard his footsteps stop as you got up, he waited for you to look up at him before turning and waking off.

He looked back after a moment to check that you had followed him, you had. He still had his mask on, you were so curious about it. Once he escorted you to the bathroom he paused at the door.

“Let me check your arm.” He held his hand out waiting for you to present him with the wrist that was still throbbing.

You looked at him skeptical before you offered your wrist, you flinched when he ran his fingers over it. After a few moments of examination he lets go.

“I don't think it's broken, and if it is, it's a fracture. I'll put it in a sling later. Just try not to bash it on anything.” He sighed and started to leave.

“I'll be back in-” he started looking back at you as he said it.

“Yeah, 1 hour. I know.” you cut him off. You expected him to be annoyed by this but he wasn't. You could see his eyes crinkle up and he made an exaggerated exhale sound, one that could be mistaken for a laugh.

“Clean yourself up, Maus.” his tone was lower,softer. He sounded quite nice really. You listened to his footsteps as he walked back down the stairs. For such a large man he was rather quiet.

You looked around the familiar room; at the bath tub which was filled with hot water and what looked and smelled like rosemary; at the chair in the corner which had a folded up towel resting on the seat; at the door that barracked you from the rest of the house; at the walls that separated you from the outside- from them.

The thoughts came flooding back to you and you shuddered, thinking about what could and would definitely have happened if…you still didn't know his name. He had a whole nickname for you and you didn't know his name. You felt a little ashamed by that.

You shook your head and tried to remind yourself that you didn't care about him even if he was really nice to you and clearly cared, at least a little for you.

Your muscles ached and you would be lying if you said a bath didn't sound good but you were still reluctant to be so vulnerable in such an unfamiliar place. He did say you had one hour and you knew you had one hour. Reluctantly, you started to pull off your shoes.

Who would it hurt? You were already in pain and if he had wanted anything like that he would have done it already. There was no point stressing, it wasn't going to help anyone, least of all you and you really wanted to not be in total discomfort. Especially not with the sharp pain in your arm.

Eventually, you had pulled off all but your underwear. Folded all of your clothes in a pile next to the tub. Only now had you realised just how dirty they were, how dirty you were. You dreaded having to put those back on but that was a problem for later. For now you wanted to enjoy warm water and an actually nice smell.

You looked back at the door once more, still a little paranoid that he would burst in and find you like this. All of those thoughts went away when you lowered your foot into the water. You hadn't had hot water since everything had gone to shit.

You put the other foot in and then lowered yourself into the water. You sighed audibly as the warm water enveloped your aching body. It was nice, you felt lighter even if the smell wasn't doing anything to help your pounding head.

You sat back, resting your back against the edge of the back and spreading out. Letting the warm water soothe your body. Gradually, you relaxed more and more. If you weren't so paranoid about a six foot ten man in a mask storming in on you, you would have stayed there forever.

You didn't let yourself relax for too long since your mind had drifted back to the boy, so you busied yourself with washing all of the dirt from your skin. You watched the water gradually go from clear to a milky brown, as you scrubbed the dirt from the skin and hair. It felt nice to be clean and to smell of something other than sweat. You looked up at the ceiling and tried to figure out how long you'd been in the water. It must have been coming up to an hour now.

If you listened really carefully you could hear him pattering about in the kitchen. You managed to pull yourself out of the embrace of the slowly cooling water when you heard the pattering switch to slow footsteps up the stairs. When he reached the door he knocked, you panicked even though you had already wrapped yourself in the towel he had left on the chair.

He opened the door a crack, clearly waiting for some indicator that you weren't still nude or in the bath.

“Maus?” He seemed unsure. Whatever semblance of confidence he had, had left his tone.

“I'm decent.” you assured him. You heard him puff out a little sigh of relief at that and he opened the door the rest of the way. He was holding a roll of bandages.

“You bathed.” he seemed both shocked and entirely unsurprised. You just nodded and looked down at your feet and the gradually expanding pool of water around them.

“I've got the sling.” He laughed at himself. “It's not a sling yet but-” He trailed off and looked down.

“I can do it later if you want Maus.” You shook your head and let him sling your arm, his hands felt warm on your skin and the fabric clung to the water still dripping from your hair. It wasn't so bad though, since some of the pressure on your arm was finally gone.

Your eyes drifted to the pile of clothes you had stacked by the bath. You really didn't want to have to put muddy clothes back on your finally clean body. His gaze followed yours to the pile of grimy clothes you had stacked by the bath.

“Come Maus.” This time he didn't look back to see if you were following. You hesitated for a moment, before you grabbed your clothes and scrambled to catch up with him. You weren't unfamiliar with the house. You had been there for a while, but now you were actually walking around it: One, when you could see and two, not while being flung over his shoulder.

It was nice, quaint. You had mostly envisioned living in a place like this when you were a kid. It was small and the floors were rickety, even crooked in some places, but it was nice. The walls, at least in this hallway, were a muted green and at the top of the stairs there was a table with a pot of flowers and a small book with a pen lying next to it.

He led you to the room in the corner. The one he had stowed you in, in the first few days. Originally, you had felt trapped but it was nice to walk around and actually take in the place.

He stopped at the door and waited for you to go in, then nodded towards the clothes he must have folded and placed on the bed.

You had previously refused to take in the room, but now that you were looking at it, it was nice. The walls were a pale violet and all of the wood in the room was light (birch maybe?); it was bright and airy, despite the fact that it was probably the early hours of the morning at this point.

You jumped when he shut the door. You heard him walk back down the stairs and figured it was probably time you stopped standing around in just a towel. He had left you another wooly jumper and a pair of baggy jeans, which were slighting too big on your waist, but you could definitely sort them out with a needle and thread.

You pulled your socks on before admiring the room for a little longer. There was a flower on the windowsill, you had never been good at flowers, but you were pretty sure it was a lily. On the wall to the left of the bed was a fireplace, it wasn't lit, but it was still warm from the fire he had built the night before for you.

You eventually made your way down the stairs, your steps never sounded quite as heavy as his. You placed that more down to the worn converse you had on, in comparison to his heavy combat boots. You could hear him humming in the kitchen, so you followed the sound and found him, slightly hunched, over the stove.

It was a little funny watching him in the kitchen, the ceilings were just high enough for him to stand up straight, but there were wooden beams running across the room in almost all of the rooms, so he had to hunch a lot. You wondered if he ever forgot and hit his head.

He turned his head when you hovered in the doorway. The mask lay next to him on the counter and he smiled when you met his eyes.

He hadn't said much of anything really, but he did nod towards a glass of water on the counter, which you reluctantly drank. You tried to look around him to see what he was cooking, but there was simply too much of him.

Instead, you retreated to the rustic looking table in the corner of the room. There were more plants in there than you had expected;it probably shouldn't have shocked you, because what better had he got to do than tend to plants?The world had literally ended.

You had thought about raiding a few bookstores, but you had never gotten around to it. You thought carrying books up the motorway would be a waste of valuable space and hell on your shoulders, but maybe if you were going to stay here you could get some? Who would it hurt? Not the already dead economy; definitely not the probably dead authors. That's if you were going to stay here. You had come back so you would have thought that meant- yes you were staying but were you really willing to stay with the man that had kidnapped you? Even if he wasn't still keeping you here.

On the other hand, it would be really nice to not have to worry about the world, or what would happen if you ever did make it up to your grandparents and they weren't there or they weren't alive or they had…Yeah, you would rather not think about that part.

It was times like these that you wished you had your mum, you hoped she was okay. That she had gotten somewhere safe and she had managed to stay with your siblings. You can't imagine she dealt well losing one child, losing more would probably break her.

You looked up to find him looking at you. You didn't entirely know what to do with that so you just stayed where you were and just looked into the water you were drinking. He turned back round when you didn't meet his eyes.

Whatever he was cooking didn't take long once you were downstairs, so you sat in a somewhat awkward silence for around 10 minutes before a bowl was placed in front of you.

You weren't exactly sure what it was, soup of some kind?. It smelt nice enough but you were still wary of it. It's not like you hadn't already been taking food from a stranger, but that was different. You needed that considering how long it had been since you had eaten real food and not just berries on the road.

Regardless, it felt different now, you pushed your spoon around the bowl and watched the vegetables move through the broth. It even looked like there was meat in there. It made sense, to you at least, you had assumed a man like him would know how to hunt.

He studied you for a moment, before leaning back against the counter and eating his own portion. You figured that was a good enough sign that he wasn't trying to kill you. You didn't really know why he didn't sit down at the table with you, maybe he was trying to make you less uncomfortable, maybe he also didn't like you. That thought bothered you a little, it's not like you should care because you didn't like him but what had you done to make him dislike you? Why did you even care that he might dislike you?

You decided to drown out your thoughts with soup- it was nice. Nothing particularly special but it was nice, you wondered if he likes cooking or if it was just a necessity for him. You didn't think you would mind picking up chores like that, if you did stay that is.

You took almost twice the time he did to finish your food. Especially since you spent most of the time pushing it around the bowl; it was mostly cold by the time you had finished, but you could feel his gaze on you and looking up felt like an unachievable task.

When you finally managed to look away from your empty bowl he smiled. “You look tired Maus.” He sounded sweet, almost concerned.

“Well I didn't get much sleep with my planning to escape and all.” Your response came out a little more dry and snappy than you had intended.

His face morphed into a frown at your response. “Maybe you should sleep then.” This time his tone matched yours. “You know where your room is.”

You felt a little bad, but you made your way upstairs anyway. You had no clue what brought on you being so rude in that moment. Maybe you were tired. You pulled the door, to what he had called your room shut, and got into bed. It was near dawn, but it was dark enough to sleep or at least to try. The bed was comfortable, a little dusty but it was nice, far better then the car seats you had been sleeping on prior to meeting him, you still didn't ask his name. Could you even now? Without it being awkward. Maybe? It's not like he knew your name either but he has been calling you Maus and you were okay with that.

You weren't sure when you drifted off, but now you wished you hadn't. You were back in the forest, you could hear the same shuffling from earlier, that poor boy's incessant muttering. You had tried to run but he was faster this time, on top of you in seconds. You stumbled, both of you hitting the floor hard and before you had time to react, he was pinning you down. The vile mix of froth and drool hanging from his mouth.

You screamed and thrashed, trying desperately to get out of his grasp or put some form of distance between the two of you- but it was no use.

Your eyes stung with tears and a sob tore through you, your wrist started to hurt again. The ache started morphing back to sharp pains. The boy shook you…the boy shook you? You slowly came back to reality, to the pale violet of the walls, to the dusty smell of the room, to the two warm hands that cupped your cheeks.

“Maus?” The man looked down at you, the concern he was feeling evident on his face.

You take a few deep breaths and then realise that he's touching you. You rip yourself away from him, as comforting as it was, you didn't want to like him. You did have to admit that it was comforting, but still you didn't want to get attached to someone and you definitely didn't want that someone to be him.

He seemed a little hurt but let you distance yourself from him.

“He can't hurt you, Maus.” You know he was just trying to comfort you but you also knew that the dead kid in the woods wasn't going to start walking again, and something about the fact that he felt the need to point it out annoyed you. Maybe it was that you were tired, you would have liked a good night's sleep or maybe it was just because you didn't want to accept that he was really nice.

“I know.” The words once again came out more snappy than you had intended. Maybe it was your lack of human contact prior to meeting him; you had never considered yourself to be one for holding grudges, but maybe it was because he kidnapped you.

He sighed and stood up from the bed. “I'll let you be Maus.”

“Um-” You immediately regretted opening your mouth. “What do I call you?”

The corners of his mouth curled into a slight smirk. “König.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, as he made his way to the door.

You hadn't heard a name like that before, when he reached the door you were suddenly struck with panic at the thought of his absence.

“Stay.” Your voice came out slightly strained and higher at the end, almost making it seem like a question. “Just until I-” Your cheeks had definitely flushed. “In case I-” You were embarrassed,you sounded like a child asking for a night light, but this was rational, right? It made sense to want someone there.

The smirk on his face morphed into a small genuine smile, as we walked over to a chair in the corner of the room. It was a bit worn but went shockingly well with the room. The chair groaned under his weight when he sat down.

You would be uncomfortable having his gaze on you if your eyes weren't so heavy. It was a struggle to keep them open. “König, is it German?” Your voice comes out quieter than expected, but he hears anyway. Despite your heavy lids you saw the nod he gave you.

“Are you German?” You muttered again, fighting off the need to sleep and taking advantage of your hazy mood.

“Austrian” he responded in the same soft tone.

By this point you had stopped trying to keep your eyes open. “Like Hitler.” your voice was heavy with sleep and you could hear your words starting to slur slightly.

He chucked at that, it was a nice sound. You heard the chair creak as he moved. “Yeah, I guess.”

You eventually managed to fall asleep, you weren't sure for how long, but when you eventually got up there was a warm stream of sunlight hitting your face. You weren't sure of the time, but you couldn't hear birds like you could in the early morning and when you looked over to the chair, König was gone. You could, however, hear grunts coming from somewhere beneath your window and the sound of metal hitting wood? You thought it was anyway.

You made your way over to the window, partly because it meant you got to enjoy the sun on your face for a while longer but also to investigate the noise. The room you were in backed out into the cottage's overgrown garden. Considering the size of the house the garden was quite big, although most of it now had been turned into space for crops there were still patches of unruly grass lining the areas of tilled dirt and the greenhouse that sat in one corner, near the hedge lining the back.

In the opposite corner was König, next to him were two piles of wood, one looked to be what he would use for fires and such and the other like the lumber he clearly intended to cut; He used a large tree stump as a surface to cut the wood.

You glanced around your room, the wardrobe caught your eye. It was nice, dusty for sure but nice. It had carved flower details on each panel of the door and a mirror on each side separating the panels. It didn't look like it had been opened in…well ever.

Much to your shock when you opened it, there was a small selection of clothes. You figured he must have scavenged clothes of all sizes ,but the ones in here seemed nice. There were a few pairs of jeans, more of those wooly jumpers he would put you in and some plain t-shirts. Folded up in the very back was a dress, it was sage green and had small embroidered flowers. It looked a little big for you -at least on the bust- but if he would let you, you'd take it in.

You held the dress up to your body, you even shut the doors so you could look at it against your form. You smiled at your reflection, it was a pretty dress and it suited you quite well.

As much as you wanted to wear it, you decided against it. Instead, you took one of the t-shirts and a pair of jeans before you folded the dress and placed it back in the wardrobe. It belonged on a hanger but they were none in there so delicate folding would have to do for the time being. Regardless, you had no intention of letting it gather dust in there.

You wondered if you would be about to find fabric in some of the looted stores, you had always had an interest in sewing and the idea of creating your own clothes brought a smile to your face- Something particularly rare since the outbreak.

You glanced back out the window and let your eyes fall on König as he brought down the axe on another piece of wood and finally made your way down the stairs and into the garden.

The sunlight felt just as nice, as it had through the window and the light breeze was equally pleasant.

König looked up when you walked into the garden. “Maus” he greeted you and placed the axe against the tree stump. He had worked up quite a sweat, which made sense;His sleeves rolled up and his breathing heavy from the activity.

“Good morning.” You had to look away because of how you felt your cheeks heat up. You had absolutely no idea what was happening, you hated him. He had essentially kidnapped you, so what if he had nice arms and his voice made you smile? So what if he was nice to you and had given you your freedom; not that you were sure he ever really took it away now. He still did it. Technically.

You looked up at the sun and figured it was probably late morning. Your days on the road had made it easier to judge, since after dusk you would have to take shelter in cars to avoid the sick.

“Do you do that often?” You cringed realising how much that sounded like a shitty pickup line.

He clearly picked up on that too because when he looked up from the stump he was smirking. “Gonna offer to buy me a drink too, Maus?” He teased. “I was running low.” He chuckled and picked the axe back up before looking at you again.

“Why don't you try, Maus? I'm sure it will make it more fun, at least for me.” He smiles and hands you the axe. “Know what you're doing?”

You nodded, even though in truth you didn't and having only one usable arm would probably make it harder. You hoped that what you had watched from the window would be enough to not have you make a complete fool of yourself. König set a log on the stump for you and then took a step back.

You gave him a nervous smile as you lifted the axe and then brought it down onto the piece of wood. The wood barely splintered but it was enough for the edge to go in. He snickered to himself while he watched you attempt to get the tool out; or the rest of the way through the timber.

“You can't laugh!” You complained. “You're ruining my performance!” You hadn't really noticed, but you were grinning too. You gave the wood a few more bashes before dramatically tossing it down.

You looked at him for a moment, trying to keep a straight face before the two of you burst out laughing.

“I did a great job! How dare you.” You spoke between fits of laughter. “Plus I'm down a hand!” You gesture to the sling before you cast your eyes back to the unchopped wood. “It was just really strong wood.” You tried to say it as seriously as you could, but it only made the two of you laugh harder.

“Thought you would be better with an axe” He nodded towards a bench at the back of the garden. Not too far from where he was. “Geh und setz dich.” When you tilted your head in confusion he smiled and translated for you. “Go sit, Maus.”

“You keep calling me Maus.” You weren't really sure if it was a question or if you were simply stating the obvious to him. In all honesty you were a little curious but maybe it was better not to know. “It sounds like mouse.” Yeah, definitely just pointing out the obvious.

“That's because it means mouse.” He chuckled again and if you were looking at him he would definitely still be grinning.

“You've been calling me a mouse the whole time?! Why?” You weren't sure why it shocked you but then again it wasn't exactly a common nickname.

“Because you're small, and cute, like a mouse.” He said it like it was obvious, you felt heat rise to your cheeks but that was just embarrassment- obviously.

“I'm like average height, you're just the size of a small house.” he let out an amused breath.

“Whatever you say, schatz.” the smile still hasn't fallen from his face, when he brought the axe down on another piece of wood. You gazed around the garden, it was pretty and very organised. You looked over the rows of crops, you couldn't imagine a guy like him gardening. Nurturing little seeds and shoots, but needs must right?

You got a little lost in your thoughts and the rhythm of him bringing the axe down onto the pieces of wood; You barely even caught yourself staring.

Why were you staring? It's not like you had never seen a man before. Technically, never that much man but still. He was just a guy, a 6’ft something guy that looked like he could snap a person in half but just a big guy.

He didn't seem to notice anyway, not that it stopped you from feeling embarrassed. You spent most of your time around him for the past few hours in some state of flushed. Which made no sense because you were still mad at him right? It only made sense to be. Even if he was sweet you were supposed to be upset.

You looked at the man you regarded as your captor. You didn't feel like that anymore. It was like if you really wanted to leave you could, probably could have in the beginning. He was sweet if nothing else, he was even willing to sit with you while you fell asleep ; You wondered how long he sat there for before he left. If he got up the minute you drifted off or if he waited.

God you were being such an idiot. It was definitely just because you had been alone for so long- Nothing more, just enjoying human interaction after so long.

You jumped when he brought the axe down on the wood again. You looked between him and the growing pile.

“Surely that's enough.” He nods in response.

“Probably.” He brings the axe down on another chunk of wood. “But I don't like doing this so it's easier to get a stockpile.”

“How long have you been here?” Considering the crops it must have been a while right? That would make sense at least, maybe it was a holiday home? Or he just moved here when things got bad because it was secluded.

“Found it.” He looked down at the wood, and his voice was quieter than before. “When I found it there were two-” He sighed.

“A couple lived here, when I got here they were already sick… I think the wife got it first, she was worse off.” He looked back up but didn't make eye contact. “They attacked, probably half starved and- well”

You got the rest, you kinda got the rest the minute he started talking. That explained the dresses in the wardrobe, the pretty furniture and probably the garden too.

After a while, you broke the silence. “Did the military know anything about it?” In asking, you failed to change the subject and lighten the mood but you were curious. You couldn't help it.

“Higher ups said it was like rabies, but they didn't tell us much more than shoot on sight. Not a lot else really” He seemed so nonchalant about it.

You knew that much, that much was on the news; then the radio when the TVs went down. The government knew it was like rabies and that you couldn't get bit, or swap any sort of fluids.

Regardless, it all happened so fast, since it was quite slow acting and nobody really showed signs;Until most people had it and by that time it was too late to think about a cure or a vaccine. Last you heard the government, or what was left of it, wasn't even trying to make a cure or a vaccine. They had simply hidden out in some ‘safe city', but that hadn't really shocked you either.

“Did you have to do that a lot? Shoot on sight?” He nodded in response and started piling the chopped wood back into the little storage shed in the garden, presumably to keep it dry.

When he got to the last few pieces, he picked them up and put them under his arm before making his way towards the house.

“You coming Maus?” You nodded and followed behind him, pulling the door shut after you. He placed the wood down in a basket and then went to the kitchen.

Lunch was cold soup, because he said he didn't want to start a fire this early in the day.You didn't particularly mind even if it was better when it was warm like yesterday.

The rest of the day was very uneventful, König went back into the garden and you sat with him. Mostly in silence, since you had run out of conversation topics and he was focused on the garden. Shockingly, more focused than he had been while he was working with the axe.

Over the next few weeks, you picked up the routine, it was rare that you would have breakfast; and lunch was always whatever had been cooked the night before. König would hunt every other Thursday- mainly hare. You went with him a few times, eager to spread the chores more. Only because you were going to stay, or at least until your arm healed then you might get back on the road.

So far you have volunteered for collecting and boiling rain water as well as cooking. Originally, you had offered to help garden (or hunt) but with one functional arm you weren't particularly good at either of those. The other problem with hunting being that you didn't really like guns or killing the animals.

So instead of hunting when he went out, you would forage somewhere nearby so he could keep an eye on you. He never put it like that but you knew that was why. It wasn't like you wanted to go far anyway, for fear of another run in with a wanderer.

It had been working well, the both of you appreciated the company and spreading the workload seemed to be helping König too. He looked less tired than he did before, you can't say he got any softer because he was always smiles when you were around but he did have more energy.

Obviously you did too, since you were finally able to eat more than scavenged granola bars, you were doing better too. The protein was helping your arm heal too and you couldn't deny how nice it was to have someone around to talk to.

Before you even really knew it, you had been with him a few months and your arm had almost completely healed. It was weaker than the other one and sometimes a bit achy but overall it was better and you were happy. The thought of leaving now was silly, why would you? To go up to your grandparents and probably find them dead? There was no appeal to it anymore, you had already lost enough people and the idea of potentially losing more was not something you really wanted to dwell on.

So it seemed like you were staying; regardless, you had become a functioning member of the house. You had jobs, jobs that weren't just to stay alive and not get lost.

So you decide you will stay because it's smarter, and that's easier to admit than staying because you're happy. Plus you just so happen to like the guy that ‘kidnapped’ you.

#apocalypse #konig cod #konig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig #konig x reader #slow burn #cod men

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randomreasonstolive · 10 months

Text

Reason to Live #9475

Really good cheeseburgers. – Guest Submission

(Please don't add negative comments to these posts.)

#sad #help #hope #reason to live #depressed #depression #empty #alone #mental illness #anxiety #trauma #guest submission #mental health #good #burger #cheeseburger #food #tasty

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no-thoughts-only-soup · 3 months

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To Secure / Risk It All

Chapter 10 / Epilogue 1

————

He hated them. No, that wasn’t right. He despised them. Loathed them. Or maybe, no word existed to convey just how much hate he harboured for them.

But he could not show it. Never say it.

He could only keep his face straight as the 05 council looked down on him.

The monitors were mounted to the wall above him on for that purpose. It had to. Of course they wanted to look down on anyone that wasn’t them. They didn’t even have the audacity to show their faces. Instead, they presented themselves as faceless silhouettes, peering down at him.

He hoped they didn’t notice the way his fingers dug into his hands, clasped behind his back.

“You may speak.” One, the leader, spoke, voice distorted.

Steeling himself and without moving an inch, he did.

“If I may be so bold to assume, I take this ‘emergency meeting’ you called is about the escape of SCP-9475, no?”

Even though the action made him want to hurl, he bowed his head. “I must confess my failure in containing and re-capturing SCP-9475. I underestimated their capabilities and the Foundation paid the price. I accept my mistakes come with a price and I am fully prepared to pay.”

He raised his head, looking up at the monitor in front of him. “However, I must stress that my failure is also due to a lack of resources. Their Euclid level, and the legal limitations in capturing that comes with it, restricted my ability to safely re-contain SCP-9475. Hence my request to the council to review SCP-9475’s status. I am positive that with a Keter status and accompanying resources, I can secure and contain SCP-9475 once more and this time without leaving room for any more escape attempts in the future.”

It was silent. Too silent.

He wished he could silence them forever.

“Please explain and elaborate.”

I won’t just kill you. “Research has suggested that SCP-9475’s abilities stem from the frontal and parietal lobes.” I’ll humiliate you. “Now, while removal of those areas is possible, it would be an unnecessary decommissioning.” I’ll will hurt and kill everyone you love. “Instead, I propose a similar containment option as SCP-239, where the SCP is kept in a medically induced coma.” I will break every bone in your body twice. “This way, we can secure SCP-9475 without risk of another containment breach.” I take and destroy everything you have. “Finally, with the research that can be conducted, we could potentially find a way to harness their ability to better contain Keter and perhaps even Apollyon class SCP’s.” And then I will put you out of your misery.

…

Why are they silent?

The faceless in front of him leaned forward. “Tell me. What does SCP stand for?”

…Why were they asking asking such an obvious question.

“To protect humanity from anomalies-“

“No. What does our acronym stand for?” They interrupted him.

……Why are they asking stupid questions!?

“………..May I ask-?”

“Answer the question.”

He tried to keep his gaze straight and face emotionless. “…….Secure, Contain and Protect, sir.”

Silence.

He wished he could tear out their eyes. Anything to stop the judging gazes upon him.

Finally, the faceless spoke. “We shall start with the first point. We have accepted your request to review SCP-9475’s status and we have come to the conclusion that Euclid is no longer applicable.”

He couldn’t keep a small smile from forming on his face.

“After discussion, we have decided to revise SCP-9475 status…”

This was it. This was his chance. His chance to-

“…to Archon.”

……… He was dumbfounded.

“What?”

“Archon is a class appointed to SCP’s that the Foundation is either completely unable or should not contain.”

“I know what Archon is.” The words blurted from his mouth before he could stop himself. He stopped, scraped his throat, and continued. “Apologies. But I want to ask why. Archon is reserved for SCP’s that are impossible to contain, such as concepts, or SCP’s that would be detrimental to humanity if contained. SCP-9475 is not a concept and can be contained. It also does not benefit humanity in any way. A Keter class would be more than sufficient.”

The faceless leaned back. “Even for a Keter class, containing SCP-9475 is a high risk-factor. The last attempt to do so resulted in disaster. More specifically a mass breach that you were barely able to re-contain.”

“It won’t happen again.” He stated, no, pleaded. “SCP-9475 will be separated and brought in a medical coma. This will keep them from activating their ability. We-“

The voice of the faceless raised. “I was not finished TALKING!”

He forced his teeth together.

“Conversely, despite SCP-9475’s reality altering abilities, the very nature of the pocket dimension they create means that all consequences of their actions are essentially erased, including memories, bodily harm and even death, as I’m sure you can attest to. This makes their actual risk towards humanity and the Veil minimal. SCP-9475 is no threat to civilians or their understanding of the universe. Granted, it’s not a perfect reset, as prolonged exposure can result in memories being maintained, but that is nothing the Foundation can’t fix themselves.”

No. He would not let this happen.

“This is against everything the Foundation stands for.” He argued. “SCP-9475 is an anomaly. It is not human. We keep other harmless SCP’s contained, as they should. There are containment options available to us. Why are you letting this one go!?”

They were silent. Silent for too long. But he didn’t mind this time. Because they were obviously considering his rightful words. There was no way he could allow them to just roam free. They had to see that. They would agree with him. There was no way they wouldn’t.

The faceless stared at him. Stared into his soul. He fought the chill going down his spine.

“You say that this is against the Foundation’s mission, correct?”

His mouth was dry. Why was his mouth dry? “Yes. Our mission is to Secure anomalies, Contain them and Protect humanity.”

Eyes pierced like daggers through him. He could tell the eyes of the faceless narrowed.

“Wrong.”

That single word caught him off guard, caused him to change his stance. He released the hands behind his back and one of his feet took a single step backwards. What was going on? Has the council gone mad!?

“Our mission is not just to protect humanity from SCP’s. It’s also to protect SCP’s from humanity. That is why we enact humane procedures on contained SCP’s and secure even the harmless ones.”

He pursed his lips to a thin line. “With all due respect, protecting the Veil is protecting humanity.”

For a moment, it seemed another member of council wanted to speak, but the faceless leaned forward again.

“Tell me, why do we keep SCP-085?”

“I don’t-“

“It’s a living drawing on a piece of paper. If we wanted to, we could easily toss her in the incinerator and she would be fully neutralised. So why do we spend Foundation money on her containment, allow personnel to draw items for her and talk to her? She’s a drawing, what kind of information could we gather from her that is helpful to society? So why, why do we keep her contained?”

“Curiosity?”

“No.” The faceless loomed over him. “It’s because we’re not monsters. We care. We care about humans, yes, but we also care about other beings with similar sentience. It’s why we installed rules, it’s why we installed the Ethics Committee.”

The room grew colder.

“An Ethics Committee that you have repeatedly brushed off, lied to and barred excess from your site.”

The cracks started to spring. It was in the way he widened his eyes ever so slightly.

“Oh, did you think we wouldn’t find out? I must admit, it was a good try. But we know and we are not happy.”

No. This couldn’t be happening.

“But that is a matter for later. In conclusion: SCP-9475 is a harmless non-to-minor threat to the Veil that is easily solved with amnestics. Contrary to that, SCP-9475 is near impossible to capture and contain, save for expensive, aggressive, disproportionate and inhumane measures. An Archon classification is more than fitting.”

No. He couldn’t let this happen!

“Are you all blind!?” He roared, the held-back venom finally spewing out. “With SCP-9475 contained, we can potentially get control over the power of reality altering! We can contain SCP’s thought to be uncontainable! Are you content with risking humanity’s safety for a single SCP!?”

There was a SLAM of a hand being brought down on the table.

“Johnathan Snee, I believe you must remember that Lady Luck already smiled upon you when SCP’s nature of undoing their actions saved you from death. Do not push her any further than you already have!”

He wasn’t even aware of the way he had balled his fists, narrowed his eyes or leaned forward until that last word left the faceless’s mouth. Taking back his composure, he fixed his stance, although he failed to look at the monitor directly.

“Facility Director Johnathan Snee, you are guilty of disrupting the Ethics Committee, unlawful experimentation of an SCP, being responsible for the death of said SCP, allowing SCP to break containment, and, if we are to believe some of your staff, abhorrent treatment of c-class and b-class. We shall discuss your full punishment, but do not believe you will be let off easily. For the time being, you are relieved of your duty and will remain in your designated quarters until further notice. You are dismissed.”

The screens turned off one by one, leaving him in darkness. Snee took a deep breath and turned on the lights with the remote, and turned them off when he left the room. He didn’t face anyone. He didn’t talk to anyone. He just walked to his room in the facility and closed the door behind him.

Those bastards. Everything he had worked for, gone in a flash. Gone because of a single, unimportant SCP. Every night of slaving away, every moment of hard work, every step he had clawed on the ladder, all for nothing.

And as he walked into his bathroom, his eyes caught his reflection in the mirror. Caught the faded red mark, like a bruise, right on his forehead. As a reminder of his greatest failure. Of the audacity, the nerve of the man and his so-called ‘friends’ to defy him, to shoot him, when he deserved-

He stopped his fist before it hit the glass.

Calm your mind. Count to ten. Breaking your things isn’t going to fix anything. It will just count against you.

He gripped the sink like a lifeline.

No. What he needed to do was think.

He needed plan B.

Snee took out his phone and walked out of the bathroom, then out the door of his quarters. Immediately, he activated the app, and walked back in.

The cameras would only show an empty room. But that didn’t mean he had all the time in the world.

He closed the door and locked it, and headed immediately for his bed, pulling it aside and reaching into the secret compartment.

Important documents about SCP-9475. Test results he had stolen. Every bit of information he was and was not allowed to have.

He picked out one of the photos. A photo of his former B-class underling. Curt Richy, the man who rebelled against him and stole everything away from him.

But it didn’t matter. His rank didn’t matter. His job didn’t matter. The Foundation didn’t matter. Because he had found something more powerful:

The ability to manipulate reality.

Run as far as you can, little monster. He thought to himself with a smile. Because it doesn’t matter. I will find you again, and I’ll take everything I lost and more. Your powers, my revenge, my victory…

I will secure it all!

———————

Not me trying to finish before it officially ends. I can’t imagine I wrote another chapter before I put links in the previous one lol

One more chapter left! And then I’ll start posting everything to AO3, with some fixes (and maybe some additional prologue???)

#recreyo #recreyo au #recreyo scp #recreyo scp au #scp recreyo #Johnathan Snee #fun fact this is the first chapter I wrote in a different note on my notes app #my writing

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narrativeats · 10 months

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babygirl going through existential crisis 9475 dead 739 injured

#this ep fucked me up more than it should have im literally dead #ilay.txt #jjk #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen

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oneterabyteofkilobyteage · 10 months

Photo

original url http://www.geocities.com/CollegePark/Theater/9475/ last modified 2006-10-04 19:50:23

#CollegePark #2006 #Explorer6 #WindowsXP #800x600

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anna-neko · 8 months

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great news everyone!! Spirited Away: Live on Stage is getting a physical release!!

if anyone didn't get a chance to see it in theaters, or - like me - just wants to rewatch the same scene about 9475 times.... pre-orders are open!

#Spirited Away #spirited away live on stage #sen to chihiro no kamikakushi #千と千尋の神隠し #studio ghibli #wishlist #physical media 4lyfe

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cpleblow · 2 years

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Lake Haiyaha (el 9475, RMNP)

EOS 5DMKIV • EOS 17-40 F4L

#landscape #lake #RMNP #hiking #adventure #travel #avalanche #super wide #lake haiyaha #Hallett Peak

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kasja93 · 1 year

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Siemka. Dzisiejszy bilans:

Zjedzone 351

Spalone aktywnie 1111

Właśnie wróciłam z wieczornego spaceru. Czułam, że mogę dostać napadu, więc poszłam się „dotlenić”. Generalnie dziś humoru nie miałam i rano strasznie walczyłam sama ze sobą by wstać. Jednak dałam radę. Posprzątałam, zjadłam, ćwiczyłam. Byle do przodu.

Menu:

Śniadanie: sałatka owocowa (gruszka, borówka, truskawka, winogrono jasne i ciemne) 174 kalorie

Obiad: pieczony kalafior i wegańska tikka masala 177 kalorie

Ćwiczenia:

9475 kroków

20 km na rowerze stacjonarnym w 55 minut

30 minut jogi

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wetheoriginals · 3 months

Note

Oh my god I can empathize with you so much, nothing feels worse then when someone tells you cant even do basic things right or properly but dont worry there are always solutions and there sre many ways to improve your physical mechanics.

doing 1 singular squat was like pulling teeth! she corrected me like 9475 times before i was able to do it properly enough for her it was saur saur humbling 😔

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awful-roffle-archive · 2 years

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You've had this dream before. You think you have, anyway. The bitter cold bites at your skin as you awaken inside the dream, despite it being August. That oh-so-familiar sense of dread and unease sinks to the pit of your stomach.

The bulletin board in the plaza still don't help, as you feel you've tried many times before. The messages speak of those missing, town meetings, and birthdays and holidays in between.

The town feels different from the last time you were here. More buildings have appeared, the road layout is different, different faces walk the streets. How long has it been?

Any questions you ask the residents are meant with uncomfortable gazes and a redirection of conversation.

The missing person posters, the bloody footsteps, the abandoned buildings... A question fills your mind as it has so often before: What's happening in Alphonus?

DA-7002-6218-9475

It's been awhile, huh? :D Last DA update was from Dec 2021. I wouldn't call this iteration 100% complete either, more like... 98%. But seeing as my interest in the game has faded again, might as well release as is! All exteriors are finished from what I can tell, it's mostly one house I can tell being emptier. It's good enough 😊

I'd love to hear thoughts and opinions as always!

#acnh #acnh dream address #animal crossing new horizons

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imabitch-16 · 2 years

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Teen Wolf roleplay 18+

Hello! im looking for an 18+ teen wolf roleplay, im an oc and a female the main people im looking for are void, stiles, scott, so if you interested just respond or heres my discord imabitch-16#9475

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no-thoughts-only-soup · 1 year

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To Secure/Risk it all

Chapter 5

(God posting on mobile sucks)

Aka exposition chapter

—————

Curt had always considered himself the least likely person to get caught by zombies, monsters or other killers both supernatural and realistic. He was athletic, often going on runs, which allowed him to have more than enough stamina to outrun everything.

Reality tended to be disappointing however.

Actually running away from guards trying to kill him and his friends was a lot tougher than he could have ever imagined. They constantly had to make short, swift turns into the maze-like hallways, while keeping in mind how not to get trapped like rats. He constantly had to shoot guards and cameras to keep them off of their trail. And mostly, he constantly had to look over his shoulder and slow down to ensure his friends didn’t fall too far behind.

It was a good thing he still had his B-Class keycard with him, swiping doors open both to slip into places they wouldn’t be able to otherwise, and freeing other SCPs that would slow the Foundation down. He looked over his shoulder once to see Den do the same with the A-Class keycard she had swiped from Snee when she had knocked him down.

His heart beat in his throat. They were running out of bullets and room to run towards. They had to hide, both to let the others take a breather and for him to get his mind straight again, because they wouldn’t get much further without a solid plan.

The bathroom doors doomed up near them and out of sheer desperation, Curt almost bashed through the first door, heading for the end of the small room where a closet was located. They all crammed themselves inside of it, closing the door behind them and holding their breath.

30 seconds passed. A minute passed. Two minutes passed. They stopped holding their breath, but remained silent. Five minutes passed.

Coast seemed clear.

They breathed a sigh of relief. For now, they were safe.

Christian grabbed Curt by the shoulders and guided him to a crate, pushing him down until he was seated. And he didn’t need to say anything, just give him a stern look that told Curt he wanted answers, now.

“…Where do you want me to start?” Curt asked, hating how shaky his voice was.

“Fucking… wherever you want I guess.” Ivan shrugged. “I just wanna know what the fuck is going on.”

“Maybe start explaining how us being, y’know, became SCPs apparently?” Den offered.

Curt leaned on his thighs with his arms, sighing. “Honestly? I think we’ve always been. Just… never realized it. Heck, I didn’t connect the dots until yesterday. I was able to get in the archives and found a file about us.”

He pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket. A part of the file he managed to take. His throat felt bone dry as his eyes fell on it again. It was still unbelievable.

“Well,” Christian interrupted, “you wanna start telling us what we are? Cuz I have a feeling I know, but I just wanna be sure about what it is that makes us so special.”

Curt readied himself, closing his eyes and trying to remember as much as he could from the file, as well as putting it together in a way his friends would understand.

“SCP-9475… is a SCP consisting out of a small group of adult humans. SCP-9475 has the ability to turn their direct environment into a pocket dimension, in which they are able to alter reality to their will. SCP-9475 activates this ability when one of them assigns themselves or is assigned the role of ‘host’. The host will come up with a hypothetical scenario for the other members of SCP-9475 to act out. This fictional scenario can be anything from a realistic possibility such as getting stalked or blackmailed, to fully fictional popular media such as TV shows, movies and games. Examples being-“

“Dude we already know.” Ivan butted in.

“Sorry.” Curt sighed. “I’m kinda… just retelling as much as I can remember from the file.”

He cleared his throat and continued. “Once the host has decided on a scenario, they will activate the pocket dimension. Within the pocket dimension, SCP-9475 will alter reality to enact the scenario as well as actions SCP-9475 takes. The host will have priority when it comes to the altering of reality, but will often listen to the rest of SCP-9475.

When the scenario has reached its conclusion, SCP-9475 will erase the pocket dimension, along with any changes that might have happened to the environment or themselves. Injuries and death done to SCP-9475 will be undone a few hours after the closing of the pocket dimension.”

Den widened her eyes. “Damn, like, everything? Even all the times I stabbed Ivan?”

Ivan laughed in response. “Explains how I survived Den for so long.”

Curt just continued. “SCP-9475 is also able to extend their powers to ‘guests’ they invite to join in their scenario. Interviewing those guests reveals they don’t remember their encounter with SCP-9475, only that it was a ‘fun collab’. In fact, any outsiders who happen to wander into SCP-9475’s pocket dimension don’t seem to remember anything after it closes. It is suspected that repeated and direct interaction with SCP-9475 as a ‘guest’ can results in memories of the event being retained. This is currently being tested with a C-Class personnel.”

“So that is Kristine’s role.” Christian pointed out. “She was put with us both to relay information about us and to see if she could become a part of… well, us.”

Frowning, Ivan suddenly stepped forward, getting closer to Curt. “Hey man, you good? You look really shaken.”

Christian rolled his eyes. “My dude, we’re literally finding out we’re not human, of course we’re all shaken.”

He hasn’t realized just how awful he felt. It was only now that Curt was starting to feel small and sick. Or maybe he had been the entire time, pushed it down and now it was finally crawling it’s way back up. He looked at them, his throat feeling raspy and his voice cracked.

“Ya’ll… we’ve been set up from the beginning.”

Den and Ivan looked surprised, but Christian looked like he already figured it out, motioning for Curt to keep going.

“He… I was offered a job here specifically so I could be made host. You guys were drugged… kidnapped and placed in a field of dead D-Class so you’d be arrested and the Foundation would be able to force you to join. All the SCPs you guys have faced? It was never to study them. It was to study us. Good god, Madz was purposely send into the Shy Guy with the transceiver specifically so they’d have a reason to send us in. A-all of this… was a set up.”

Ivan winced. “Damn. I mean, makes sense but still…”

“For whatever reason… we weren’t aware of our powers and they knew.” Curt kept going, feeling lightheaded yet heavy at the same time. “T-the file explicitly says to keep us in the dark. They made me only do some stupid useless paper work… it was all a sham… I can’t believe I…”

“What happened to Chilly?” Den blurted out. Everyone gave her a look. She awkwardly scratched her neck. “Sorry, awful timing, I know.”

Fuck. He didn’t wanna tell them. He didn’t wanna bring back up the awful feelings and thoughts that plagued him through the nightmare, creating nightmares so horrible he actually lost his dinner in the toilet. Thinking about it made him sick again. But he had to. They deserved to know.

“They… they wanted to know if our generative powers work outside of a scenario, outside of a pocket dimension.” Curt began, his voice barely above a whisper. Fuck, his chest was already hurting from this, pounding against his rib cage.

“S-so they took her… a-and restrained her… and…”

He couldn’t stop hearing the screaming in his head. Her screaming. Screaming their names. Screaming his name.

“They hurt her… t-tortured her… I-I don’t even know i-if they intended… or if it was just… too much…”

It hurt. His heart hurt. His longs hurt. His chest hurt. Not even trying to think about fun times helped, since her usual gag of yelling help was now replaced with actual terror. Why was breathing so hard? He should’ve figured it earlier. He could have stopped this. He was crying, he could feel the tears on his face. Why did he listen in the first place to Snee and the other A-Class? God, it felt like someone was choking him. He should have gotten them out after the first test. Why was everything spinning? Why did he ignore all the warning signals and gut feelings? All the sounds around him just sounded like static. Why didn’t he save her? Why couldn’t he save her? Why did he let her die? Why did she die? Why why why why why why why why why why—

“CURT!”

His head snapped up. Everyone was looking at him, eyes wide with worry and half-panic. He opened his mouth, trying to say something, anything, but the words got stuck in his throat.

“Dude,” Ivan sounded a little out of breath “I think you’re having a panic attack or something.”

“Yeah no shit.” Christian muttered, crouching down until he met Curt eye to eye. “Curt, look at me. This is gonna sound weird, but I need you to tell me three things you see right now, two things you feel and, uh, one thing you smell.”

Den softly and shakily smiled. “That old trick, huh?”

“Best trick in the book.” Christian responded. “Ok, go.”

He didn’t have a chance to ask. He just had to answer. And with every bit of effort he could drag up, he started speaking.

“I-I see you… and that lightbulb… and Ivan…”

“Good, keep going.”

He took a shaky breath. Ivan gently removed the paper from his hand, reading over it and wincing, but not saying a word. Curt decided to focus on the task at hand, running his fingers along the crate beneath him.

“I feel… the crate I’m sitting on… and the ground under my feet I guess… and as for smell…”

His nose wrinkled. “…Whatever the hell Ivan’s been eating.”

Ivan’s mouth fell open as Den and Christian bursted out laughing.

“WHAT!? ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?”

And Curt couldn’t help but shakily laugh with them. And honestly? Laughing felt nice. It broke some of the tension that had been weighting them all down.

Den nudged Ivan. “It’s your own fault for eating that shit.”

“It was either that or starving! Blame Christian for getting us into trouble!”

“That was a distraction and I don’t regret it.”

“Whatever man, how did this go from calming down Curt to roasting me again?”

As Ivan and Den teased each other, Christian turned his attention back to Curt. “Feeling better?”

Curt had to admit he did. He was still on edge, still shaking a little, but while his heart raced it didn’t hurt as badly anymore. “A bit.” He confessed.

Christian pouted, crossing his arms. “A bit ain’t gonna do it, we need you to have your head clear. Gonna do cliché tactic number 2.”

More gently than Curt had ever seen him do before, he placed a hand on Curt’s shoulder. “Copy my breathing, ‘kay?”

And Christian started slowly breathing in and breathing out, loud enough for Curt to follow. After a second, Curt joined, breathing in… and out. In… and out. In… and out.

Ivan took his hand, rubbing circles on it. And Den leaned near the door, giving him a reassuring smile when she caught him looking at her.

Piece by piece, bit by bit, Curt felt the panic melt away like snow in the sun. It was gonna be okay. The dread sunk to the bottom. It wasn’t gonna go away, and he knew it would come back, but he was able to push it away for now. They had more important things to worry about, like getting the hell out of here.

Curt took one last deep breath, closed his eyes and exhaled, opening them with a new resolve. They all smiled back at him, the same look of determination in their eyes.

But then, the door opened.

#recreyo au #scp recreyo #recreyo #curtrichy #ivan animated #frugal aesthetics #cipherden #panic attack #my writing #fanfiction #tw: panic attack

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