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#*cries in monster romancer*
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When you are so goddamn dense irl that you don’t realize your durge and karlach are together/dating then get together with Astarion and are so confused when you get dialogue to break up with Karlach and you do because you didn’t know your durge and her were a thing to begin with and also Astarion but she is really sad and you just cry.
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I didn't realize how much i needed that. Screaming "i am not afraid to keep on living" along with the packed stadium and the band and having a moment about how far all of us have come and how much we've been through and we're all STILL HERE was like. We're ok. We've got this. It's going to be ok and we're here together.
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severeblizzardlady · 5 months
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Me to myself: I wanna write a romance with lots of gentle love and tender forehead smooches and--
My brain: There is a monster in the walls waiting for you to sleep. It breathes, and winter comes.
Me: ...does it give tender forehead smooches?
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zacwuv · 10 months
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Happy Monster Monday! Don’t be afraid of his feetsies, he just loves foraging!
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jagzii · 1 year
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“At the time of its release, all discourse around the film seemed to focus on one aspect, the inter-species romance between Elisa Esposito (Sally Hawkins) and the Amphibian Man (Doug Jones). Unlike most of my fellow audience members at the theatre, I remember enjoying the movie, but even I couldn’t completely look past or understand the visual oddity of the relationship presented on screen. Despite that, however, the film stuck with me. Alexander Desplat’s beautiful original soundtrack for the film lived on in my playlist, and every time I heard the gentle refrain I was filled with the desire to sit down and reexamine this story and its message.”
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Read the rest here: https://open.substack.com/pub/ananyajagoorie/p/whos-the-real-monster?r=7dcr2&utm_campaign=post&utm_medium=web
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ozzgin · 1 month
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Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.
-Doll
This is giving me Dragon Quest vibes, haha. Not a trope I'm too familiar with, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. I shall do my best! Sorry for the delay, I hope it's close to what you imagined. :)
Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader
As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes?
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)
[Part 2]
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You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.
A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.
Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.
This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.
You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.
"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.
He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.
Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naive faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.
The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.
You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.
His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."
Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.
What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.
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pseudowho · 3 months
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Post-ShibuyaAU! Grey Nanami Kento Headcanons
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As an accompaniment to my story, Grey (link here); an AU where Nanami survives Shibuya exploration because I'm never going to be over his loss.
Warnings: Severe injury (burns, eye loss), PTSD, alcohol use, depression, light smut, angst, AU headcanons
Part 2 of Greynami Headcanons link here
Christmas Greynami Headcanons, link here
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Before he meets you:
AU!Nanami Kento who meanders, severely burned, skin still on fire with agony, with blurred vision to another atrium, thronging with transfigured humans.
AU!Nanami Kento who fights until the end, embracing his death, until Yuuji arrives at the eleventh hour.
AU!Nanami Kento who, despite being healed by Shoko, faces a grisly recovery, forever physically and psychologically scarred by the events of Shibuya.
AU!Nanami Kento who drinks more heavily than ever, trying to scare away the nightmares; waking up in cold sweats, burning alive and screaming.
AU!Nanami Kento who turns viciously on the hierarchy of Jujutsu High, blaming them for sending their staff and students to Shibuya like lambs to the slaughter.
AU!Nanami Kento who hands his notice in shortly after Shibuya; bitterly recognising the monsters of the world in the various forms, wishing to hunt freely without being at the beck and call of Jujutsu High.
AU!Nanami Kento, who embraces the vigilante life, still saving privately earned money for his early retirement.
AU!Nanami Kento with bruises on his thighs, cuts on his hands, because his depth perception fails him in day-to-day activities now .
AU!Nanami Kento who took up the cold-baths-in-your-clothes idea from Higuruma Hiromi, because his burns still prickle so tenderly even after being healed.
AU!Nanami Kento who looks in the mirror once a day and once only, disgusted by what he sees.
AU!Nanami Kento who is still on speed-dial for every student and every assistant at Jujutsu High, who begrudge him nothing, and still love him dearly.
AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't even need to use his Cursed energy to hunt down rapists, murderers and abusers.
AU!Nanami Kento who is informed by Ijichi of the goings-on in the school; where students are sent and when, if anyone is being sent to re-recruit him...which is how he learns you are being sent for him.
AU!Nanami Kento who throws himself into work, isolating himself from the world, bitter and jaded and so desperately lonely.
After he meets you:
AU!Nanami Kento who seduces you when you hunt him down, sensing a kindred spirit, and someone to keep him company even if just for one night.
AU!Nanami Kento who is surprised to wake to see you still there, soft, naked, and pressed against him.
AU!Nanami Kento who almost cries when you press soft kisses over his eye patch, not disgusted, not afraid.
AU!Nanami Kento who treats you like a queen, throwing his whole heart and soul into romancing you, never hesitating in his choice.
AU!Nanami Kento who eventually stops covering himself up at home, exiting the bathroom in just a towel, no eye patch, his good eye smiling softly at you, curled in his shirt on his sofa.
AU!Nanami Kento who re-embraces the music from his teenage years, insisting you listen to MCR, Tool, and Fall out Boy while you cook together, singing along badly, flour everywhere.
AU!Nanami Kento who, the first time he had a vicious nightmare with you in his bed, was ashamed and took himself alone out of the house for a walk in the dead of night.
AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't make it to the door alone the second time; your hand winds in his and you wrap a scarf gently around him, walking arm in arm through the orange glow of the streetlights until he feels calm enough to attempt sleep again.
AU!Nanami Kento who knew he loved you before; but now loves you obsessively, sweetly, deeply.
AU!Nanami Kento who gasps to life in the morning, feeling your warm mouth travel down his scarred abdomen below the covers, groaning in ecstasy as you take him into your mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair, relearning how to feel joy and pleasure.
AU!Nanami Kento who no longer hides his face in your neck while he rolls his hips gently against yours, drinking in your facial expressions and soft sighs as he takes you to the edge again and again.
AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't let you go to any of your kills alone; he comes with you, protecting you at every turn, but refuses to split your payment with him.
AU!Nanami Kento who doesn't know you've perfected a minor reverse-cursed healing technique, and you use it to heal the eye patch sores on his face while he sleeps.
AU!Nanami Kento who introduces you to Yuuji; Yuuji smiles so widely with pure honest joy, and Kento feels his heart might burst with pride.
AU!Nanami Kento who only semi-ironically considers Nobara a member of the One-Eyed Club, like him. Nobara loves it. She has badges made. Kento has one under his lapel at all points.
AU!Nanami Kento who learns that you always carry aloe-vera gel and a spare eye patch when you go out together, and his heart clenches with appreciation for you.
AU!Nanami Kento who, in return, starts carrying around pads and hair ties for you, but won't carry an umbrella; he knows you always bring one, and you'll be forced to share the same umbrella.
AU!Nanami Kento who loves when you buy clothes for him, choosing good materials and long sleeves which won't irritate his scars.
AU!Nanami Kento who is so proud to walk out of the coffee shop with two coffees and pastries now, instead of the lonely one.
AU!Nanami Kento who falls asleep against you when you wash his hair and tight scars in the bath, and definitely falls asleep with his head in your lap while you massage aloe into his burns.
AU!Nanami Kento who sees kids staring at his eye patch; he kneels down and quietly tells them that he's a pirate, but the good kind.
AU!Nanami Kento who suffers dreadful depression and flashbacks as Halloween approaches the first year you're together; by the second year, he agrees to dress up as the Phantom of the Opera and Christine together.
AU!Nanami Kento who has dinner with Ijichi, Ino, Higuruma and Kusakabe often.
AU!Nanami Kento, who knows Ijichi will always make a Jujutsu High car available for him, even though he's no longer employed by them. Ijichi, who always has Nanami Kento's back, and would fight anyone to the death for him.
AU!Nanami Kento who no longer sees himself as defined by his trauma, but instead as defined by the love you give him, and he gives you in return.
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Sigh. I adore Greynami.
Part 2 of Greynami Headcanons link here
@silkspunweb My smutty muse, and partner in crime, thank you ❤️
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vagabond-umlaut · 5 months
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Your Sukuna fic recs? pretty please? 🥺🥺
ofc nonnie! i nvr ever turn down an opportunity for showing (few of) my fave authors their much well-deserved love, respect & attention! 😊😊🫶🫶
ryomen sukuna x reader fic recs (I)
‣ this is merely a list of works i've enjoyed reading. kindly heed the tags and warnings in each of them and consume content responsibly, at your own discretion. ‣ that being said, i own neither these fics nor the characters. enjoy reading! 🥰
⇌ Conquest (SukunaXReader) (series) by JellyBelly531 on ao3 [I can't say anything on this series here, except, to request you to read this— provided you're fine with the tags and warnings the author has given. This is an absolute delight for those who love Trueform!Sukuna set in a canon-y historical backdrop. A 200% masterpiece, I'm tellin' ya! :))]
⇌ Sukuna with reader whos just dumb (hcs) by @poe-daydreams on tumblr [Humor, Fluff, Humor, Fluff, Humor— Comedy at its finest :D]
⇌ rhymes (oneshot) by @tender-rosiey on tumblr [Tooth-rotting fluff ft. Dad!Sukuna and his adorably menacing attitude xDD]
⇌ Tribe leader/Viking Sukuna (hcs) by @yuujispinkhair on tumblr [Terrifying 'Kuna + Charming 'Kuna + Protective 'Kuna + Soft 'Kuna + Husband 'Kuna + Dad 'Kuna— what more do you need, hmmm? ^_^]
⇌ Black Magic (twoshot) by sukirichi on ao3 [Arranged Marriage with Enemies-to-Lovers dynamics and Scary™️ Househusband 'Kuna— an ALL TIME FAVOURITE FIC of mine, for sure ^_^]
⇌ Little Monster (oneshot belonging to a series) by @lemonlover1110 on tumblr [A sweet combination of the tropes: Dad!Sukuna & Sukuna being Sukuna. I really love the way 'Kuna is in-character in this fic :))]
⇌ to satiate, seduce, and to sin. (oneshot) by @poe-daydreams on tumblr [For the twisted-yet-loving!Sukuna fuckers lovers like me ;)]
⇌ To the end (7 chapters) by @yuujispinkhair on tumblr [One Of THE very best Zombie Apocalypse AUs I've ever read. Please keep tissues close to you for the sad tears, then the happy tears. I ugly-cried while reading this, no kidding :))]
⇌ 7/11 (oneshot) by astreaborn on ao3 [Perfect way to lift your spirits, if you're ever feeling down. The characterizations are so well written... Just go read it, please. You will not regret it— I'm 10^10 times sure of this!! :))]
⇌ "make me (yours)." (oneshot) by @ancient-vivarium on tumblr [Age gap romance with rich older bf!Sukuna, ft. slow burn, fluff and SPICE— this is what one should call GIRL BREAKFAST, LUNCH & DINNER! ;DD]
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woahjo · 25 days
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The People We Became (Bakugou x Reader)
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masterlist | ao3
Pairing: Bakugou x Reader
Summary: Zombie Apocalypse Au.
The world fell apart almost a year ago and you refused to go with it. Left alone and to your own devices in a world full of monsters, where the dead come back to life, you believe that maybe surviving isn't living.
When Katsuki finds you alone in the woods and on the precipice of collapsing from exhaustion, he decides to bring you back to the house his group calls home. Against your better judgement and hesitancy to become attached, you decide to stay. In this world, everyone has lost someone. No soul is spared the violence, and you start sleeping with Bakugou Katsuki to dull the ache. Somehow, peace finds you anyway, but not without sacrifice.
Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, gender neutral pronouns, strangers to lovers, violence typical of zombies, blood, gore, romance, slow-ish burn (for the emotional stuff), angst, kissin', questions of identity, loss, grief, graphic depictions of death and/or violence, mentions and descriptions of starvation/exhaustion typical of an apocalypse setting, very slight implications of possible sexual violence typical of an apocalypse setting, derealization, depersonalization, weapons (guns, blades, and traps), loss of identity
All content warnings can be found on ao3 with the rest of the series.
Word Count: 14.4k — 53k total on ao3
A/N: it's finally done... i'm sweating. i screamed. i cried. i bled. you know the drill. i am posting this a little differently than my other fics and series. only the first chapter will be posted here on tumblr (this post), with the rest of it broken up into chapters and posted on ao3.. purely because it was originally meant as a one shot and i don't like posting chapters on tumblr. it's not built for that and im tired. anyway, im nervous this is my new baby and im pretty sure my soul is somewhere in here. if u read this, pls come tell me what you think.. it fuels me. enjoy, cry, sweat, or whatever else you do when you read. as always, thank you and i love you.
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Two hundred and seventy six. It’s been two hundred and seventy six days since the world completely went to shit. You don’t really count the initial outbreak. The initial outbreak was relatively contained once people found out about it. You quarantined. You stayed inside. All it really took were a handful of idiots. Someone selfish. Someone who panicked and ran instead of facing the world honorably, and that was it. It only took days to lose almost every semblance of a normal life and a week to lose everything else. 
The light of your fire is dim, embers burning low as you sit in a foldable chair beside it. The chair is from a friend, someone you’re not with anymore and who went somewhere you couldn’t follow, and you've got a metal spatula in your hand. You're not sure why you grabbed it when you fled, but panic does weird things to the mind. You absentmindedly wonder why you’ve brought it along with you all this time. There’s no logical reason for you to tote the thing around. A friend had told you how strange it was that you thought to toss it into your bag and continue carrying it. This, along with a few other oddities, are all you managed to take from your house when the world fell to ruin. Everything else are things scavenged along the way or from people you'd met, joined, and lost. 
Maybe it’s because the spatula is somewhat normal, like somehow when you cook the game on your makeshift tin over your shitty fire, you can pretend you’re in your kitchen. A smash burger sounds good right now, with grilled onions on a brioche bun like the ones from the place by your apartment. 
The night is near silent and trees creak and crack like the hulls of great ships under heavy pressure, but the birds don't sing and nothing in the crowded wood you're taking shelter in makes a sound. Well, except for you and the gentle crackle of your fire. 
It’s easy to miss the noise that used to irritate you when the world goes quiet. You used to hate the sounds and lights of passing trucks when they’d cross on the street below your apartment window. Now, you’d do anything for the familiar comfort. The world is so dark and quiet, like it’s holding its breath and waiting for this to be over. The silence is almost too much, so loud that it hurts your ears. You huddle closer to the fire, craving its quiet sound. Focusing on it lessens the anxiety of the other noises. The ones you don’t want to hear. 
Your head is on a swivel. It has been for months. Ever since the outbreak, ever since the dead rose and began consuming and infecting the living, you've kept watch. A paranoid, never ending cycle that you suppose—if left on your own—will burn itself out. You swallow thick and return your attention to the fire, watching the tree line just in front of you for any hint of movement or monsters. 
A branch cracks just behind you. A swift sound, followed by rapid footsteps. You stand, quickly turning your head, only to see a figure a few feet away from you. They move quickly and the dancing light of the fire obscures their features from view. Their eyes, most importantly. You can always tell if someone is dead or alive based on their eyes and the sounds that their joints make. In this light, should this stranger have that milky white film over them, you wouldn't be able to tell. 
You make a small noise, something between a whimper and a shout, as the person comes to a stop in front of you and holds a flashlight directly into your face. You squint, panic in your veins as your eyes adjust as best they can to the sudden assault. It takes you a moment to realize that there is a gun pointed directly at your forehead. The living. This person is alive. You're not sure yet if encountering one of the dead would have been worse. 
"Shut up and drop your weapon," he says in a hurried voice. It's aggressive and threatening. It comes from deep in his chest, like somehow fear has gripped and mutilated it into something violent. 
You raise your shaky hands to your head quickly at the order, screwing your eyes shut in the beam of the flashlight. 
"It's not a weapon!" you shout, voice cracking. "It's a spatula. It's a spatula." 
The words are rushed and heavy, fear seizing your chest as you look down the barrel of the gun. The flashlight turns off, sending you back into the dark. Your eyes fight to adjust, catching the firelight that glints off of the barrel, and you begin to makeout the man’s features. He's big, blonde under the grime, you think. A man, not the best thing to encounter alone at night in times like these. 
You see him hesitate for a moment, eyes darting between you and the silver kitchen item in your hand. You drop it quickly, hoping to appeal to his humanity. 
"Do you have a weapon on you?" he questions, voice a little less urgent. 
You shake your head in response and then shakily look beside the chair, choking out the word “ground”. There's a knife there and a pistol with no bullets. You're a poor shot and you had run out of ammo the previous week. He glances at it, the gun still raised at you, and sidesteps to grab the two items. When he does, he cautiously lowers the weapon and you start to lower your trembling hands. 
Then, as if struck by some realization, the man stomps towards the fire and you jump as he does.
"The fuck are you doing lighting a fire this late?" he says angrily, opening the clip of your pistol. "And with no fucking bullets. Those things may be dead, but they can still fuckin' see. That's a good way to get yourself killed." 
He stomps out the fire as he talks, urgently stamping out what's left of the low-burning logs. 
"I didn't think there were many in the area," you justify, furrowing your eyebrows as you step away from him. 
"And that's a risk you want to take?" he says indignantly. You wonder briefly what business he has worrying about you. 
"What do you want?" you snap, "My food? Weapons? Life? What is it?" 
The man scoffs, "Jesus, none of that. I don’t want your shit." 
You narrow your eyes and take a step back. One thing this world has done is remove trust from every chance encounter, and that was already hard enough when the place was sane. 
"Not all people who camp out in the woods are good," he says. "But I sure as shit didn't expect to find someone like you alone lighting a damn fire. Stupid." 
"There were others," you say indignantly, like somehow that makes it better. "Force of habit, I guess." 
The man pauses for a moment as understanding passes between the two of you. It's a relatable feeling. Everyone has lost someone now. 
"Got a name?" he asks. 
You hesitate in giving it to him and the pause causes him to roll his eyes. “You want me to call you Idiot-with-no-bullets instead?” 
You give him your name and the man nods as if he likes the sound of it, turning it over in his head before inhaling. 
"I'm Katsuki," he furrows his eyebrows. "You're alone?" 
You nod, swallowing down the grief that pushes at your throat. 
"Wasn't always," you respond, "but yeah. Now, I am." 
He nods his understanding. 
"Come with me." 
"Where?" you say instinctively, a defensive edge to your voice. Katsuki looks at you as if you’re stupid, or maybe it's pity, like you're a wounded animal. Probably both. 
"Where the fuck do you think?" he retorts. "We've got a camp a little ways from here. I saw your fire from the watch post we have stationed." 
You look at him like he's a little crazy for even thinking to bring you. Kindness, especially the selfless type, is so rare now and you find it difficult to believe that he’s willing to take you there at no cost. 
He scoffs and rolls his head over his shoulder. "Look, we've got men and women," then he pauses. "Used to have children. We're not gonna hurt you. World's gone to shit, do you really wanna keep at it alone?" 
He's probably right. You've been alone for weeks now, exhausted for longer, and though your common sense tells you not to go off with a strange man in this kind of world, the promise of rest is far too tempting. You nod and glance back to your camp. A measly collection of supplies haphazardly put together. You suppose that it doesn’t look so promising. 
"We'll come back for it when it's light," he says. "I don't know about you, but I'd rather not spend longer in these dark ass woods than I have to." 
"Okay," you say. The presence of another person both sets you on edge and makes you feel the press of fatigue even more. A gun's barrel on your nose followed by the promise of safety and you're going with him? You must be stupider than a horror movie protagonist. "Do you take in a lot of strays?" 
Katsuki looks over his shoulder and you think you see him smile a little at the phrase. 
"If that's what you want to call it," he says begrudgingly. Then, with a softer tone of voice, barely noticeable with the quiet whisper you both have been speaking at. "I'm sure the others won't mind one more."
You nod a little and follow him through the wood, stepping over obstacles. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark, but you feel unsteady on your feet. Everything you’ve ever learned about this world tells you that maybe you shouldn’t go with him. What if they’re dangerous? It’s easy to lie about women and children, about a community that doesn’t exist. Or worse, it’s easy to fool yourself that where you are is good, but you don’t know yet if he’s the type to delude himself. He doesn’t seem it. 
The two of you walk for what feels like forever, even if it is only a little over half a mile. Your feet have been aching for days and every step you take feels like a blade into the heel. Katsuki seems steady, his gun secured at his hip and a large knife in his dominant hand. He doesn’t have the flashlight out, but he seems sure-footed and takes every step in stride, as if he’s too heavy to be swayed by any missed step. 
As you move, you can barely make out his back in the white tank top he wears. You use it as a landmark, following the glowing white as it catches the light from the moon. Like chasing a ghost through the trees. 
Then, the wood eases up. The trees grow sparse and the suffocating humidity of the forest eases into a more breathable, open-air breeze. Katsuki steps out into a clearing. It’s relatively small, for how large the world is, but it’s some of the most open space you’ve seen in a while. The feeling of stepping out into the tall grass, where you’re both visible to any wandering thing, sends a rush of fear through you. 
By the edge of the clearing, there’s a small house with a short steeple. It almost looks like a Christian church, but you get the sense that it’s likely a barn. That must be the watchtower and you wonder just how good the view of the forest is from up there if Katsuki managed to see the light of your fire. How many other people had seen your fires over the weeks and not made it out to confront you? How close had you come before to safety or annihilation? 
"Hey!" a girl's voice calls. "He's back!" 
In the near distance, you can see a large and dimly lit house. It looks a little worn down, but soft and hardly noticeable light emanates from it in a way that makes it seem inviting.You can’t make out its exact silhouette and night blurs just how broken-down it is, but you can tell that people live there in the same way you can tell when someone has just left a room. 
Someone runs across the field to you both. It looks like a man and a woman, maybe around Katsuki's age. They move quickly through the tall grass and for a moment, the urgency that they move with frightens you. You worry that your presence will ignite some protective sort of panic. You linger back, letting Katsuki grow a little farther from you as they call out to him. 
“Yeah, yeah," he half-shouts, no longer seeming to care about keeping quiet. Guess that's what happens when there's a group. "I found the fire I mentioned." 
The two come to a stop in front of him, resting their hands on their hips as they catch the breath they lost. 
"We started to get a little worried," says the girl. She's pretty, with big eyes and curly hair that looks like it probably used to be dyed. "You've been gone for a while." 
"Well, I'm back," he says. 
"And you brought a friend," the other man says, sounding shocked. His tone is noticeably kind. The boisterous type of kind and when he smiles, you can see that he has sharp canines. His hair is straight, sticking out in different directions, and tinged with red in this light.
"More like an acquaintance," Katsuki says. “I found them in the woods with a fire and an empty clip. Felt like their blood would be on my hands if I didn’t bring them back.” The red-haired man gives him a telling look and Katsuki scoffs in response and turns to the girl. "Get them settled, Mina, will you?" The girl called Mina nods and Katsuki takes off toward the house without another word. 
"You're lucky," she says, pausing when you flinch as she steps closer. "You're gettin' the last solo room in the place. Kirishima, is it set up?" 
Kirishima shrugs his shoulders. "You'd have to ask Izuku. He'd know all about that, but I can go check." 
Mina shakes her head and turns her attention to you, giving you a quick once over with her eyebrows pulled together.
"You must be tired.” 
When you nod, she gives you an empathetic smile and motions for you to come with her. "We'll fix that. You hungry?" 
"What do you think?" you manage, saliva pooling in your mouth. "Do you have food?" 
"Plenty," she smiles. "not quite enough for leftovers just yet though, don’t tell anyone." 
You smile awkwardly. Who on earth would you tell? 
"Sounds like a good deal," you say. 
You follow Mina up to the house. Around it, there are a few parked cars. They look like they could pull out at any moment, and through the dust covered windows, you can just make out supplies in the back seats as you pass. In the distance, you can see the fuzzy silhouette of the barn you’d assumed was a watchtower in the dark of the field and you figure that maybe it used to be a place to keep livestock. 
Mina doesn't say much to you as you pass through the field, and when you walk into the door, the first thing you notice is a large group of people seated at a dining table. They all look up at you when you enter and it's with a bit of shock that you register their faces as healthy. Well, healthier. These people live well. Something stirs in your chest, both anxiety and excitement at the thought of possibly having found somewhere safe. They blink at you for a moment, exchanging looks that all end up landing on Katsuki. 
"This is the group. Well, most of us," Mina says pleasantly and with a light huff. "That's Izuku, Denki, Ochako, Sero, and you already know the handsome guy on the end there. Kiri's probably checking to see if the room is half decent.." They all greet you with a glad murmur. "Group, this is..." 
She looks at you expectantly. When you tell them your name, you can't help but look at Katsuki who already knows it. He raises his eyebrows unconsciously and turns his attention to the glass in front of him. 
There’s an awkward pause as you stand in the doorway, suddenly conscious of just how dirty you must look. Remnants of an older world, you suppose. No one really worries about things like that anymore.
“Uhm…” you search for something to say, but your people skills seem to have left you. 
“You’re okay,” Mina says lightly. “Plenty of time to get to know you when you’ve rested and had something to eat.” 
Mina sits you down at a chair that she pulls in from the other room. It doesn't match the other ones in the dining room, but you suppose no one is really thinking of the decor in their house anymore. It's only now that you realize the house has electricity.
"You have power?" you say incredulously, looking at the center light in the dining room on its low setting. 
"Mhm," Mina hums as she sits down next to you and spoons a helping of vegetables onto your plate. "It's got a generator. We got lucky finding this place. I don't think many of us would be alive if we hadn't." 
Those listening in the group nod their affirmation. 
"It draws from well water too," she adds. "With the right care, the place practically runs on its own. Hard work but what isn't nowadays?" 
“Like you do any of the heavy lifting," Sero scoffs across from her.
"That's not fair," Katsuki adds with a slick smirk, "you know damn well none of our vegetables would be so well socialized if she didn't use them like a damn diary all day." 
The group laughs a little and Mina rolls her eyes and sits back in the chair. You avoid looking at anyone, shoveling the food into your mouth. You’re salivating an almost embarrassing amount, struggling to eat at a normal pace. There’s something about food cooked inside, about the way food tastes when you can smell it wafting in from the kitchen. 
"Don't worry," she turns to you, as if you’re at all concerned with the implication that she doesn’t do much work, "they know we’d hardly have vegetables at all if it weren't my job to tend them. I used to garden quite a bit before all of this." 
Sero tosses her a sideways glance and you get the sense that maybe it isn’t just her doing it. 
"Mina does a lot of the garden stuff," Ochako pitches in, her voice hesitant. "We all sort of just do what we can." 
You can’t really keep up with the conversation and instead just blink at her for a moment before turning back to your food. Maybe that’s rude, but you don’t have the energy to consider it. There’s food in front of you. Food that doesn’t taste like it’s been poorly slaughtered or rotting in a cabinet for months. 
The group at the table with you shifts back into what you feel is their normal conversation and you watch them through your peripheral. You can’t relax yet, maybe you never will. Always on watch with your guard up. 
They pass the dishes around the table, plates going from hand to hand over mismatched sets of silverware. The action feels strange to you. Your chest squeezes at the thought. Just a few weeks ago, you’d done this around a fire with the people you loved. You’d passed a too-hot-to-touch pot around a circle of friends, laughing quietly at the little moments of joy you could find. It feels far away now and jealousy rouses beside hope as you sit. 
“So, where did you come from?” Izuku at the end of the table asks. 
It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you and there’s an edge to his voice that has everyone at the table sitting up with curiosity. You stare at him for a moment, exhausted and defeated and unable to muster the words. 
“Leave them be,” Katsuki says, looking up from his plate. “They just got here. They’re probably freaked out.” 
The table goes a little quiet, a hush falling over it. You look around as glances are exchanged before Mina stands up quickly and quietly claps her hands together. 
“I think,” she says with an awkward laugh, “it may be time for bed.” 
Mina turns to you. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.” 
You nod, standing up and turning to the group with furrowed eyebrows. You want to thank them, to tell them that you’re grateful for the meal and their kindness, but the words don’t come. Instead, you meet Katsuki’s gaze, grateful for the intervention, but suspicious at such forthcoming kindness. He scoffs a little and turns away. 
“It’s just up here,” Mina says as she guides you through the house.
You pass rooms with their doors ajar. They are lived in, with unmade beds and glasses of clean water on nightstands. It’s like something out of a life gone by, with a few less amenities. You can imagine a family moving through this house. Girls in school uniforms calling through the halls about a stolen hair clip. Now, you picture these people doing that. Living and not just surviving.
“The bathroom is across the hall,” she says. “You can take a shower if you want. I’ll leave a towel and some clothes in there just in case.”  
You nod. 
“No worries if you don’t,” Mina adds in a whisper. “When I first met everyone, I didn’t undress to bathe for days so… take your time. We won’t be offended.” 
She shuts the door behind her when she leaves and you stumble back onto the bed, shocked by just how soft it feels after spending weeks on the floor. It’s not much, but it’s nicer than anything you’ve experienced in the last nine months, and there's a working shower. You haven’t had a shower since everything fell apart and the layer of grime on your skin is so thick that you can feel it. You haven’t felt safe enough to properly wash since you’d lost the rest of your group, only stopping to rinse your body in streams you pass if the thought occurred to you. The idea of running water and a shower is near euphoric. 
You probably shouldn’t. It may not be wise to shower tonight. You still don’t know these people or what they’re capable of, but the temptation of being clean is too great and as soon as you hear Mina close the bathroom door and walk away, you hurry across the hall on the balls of your feet. 
The bathroom looks old and the sink is white porcelain, eggshell now with a lack of care. The shower has a bathtub in it and though it’s cloudy, there’s a mirror over the sink where you catch the first clear glimpse you’ve had of yourself in weeks. 
You don’t know who you’re looking at. The person in the mirror is nearly unrecognizable. Their eyes are wide and frightened, wild like an animal’s, and their face is covered in a layer of grime that looks like it can never be washed out. Their hair is unruly, sticking out in some areas and matted down with blood in others. This is a person you’ve never seen or met before. Someone you would have avoided only a year ago if you’d ever encountered them. 
You reach up to touch your face, running your hand over the dried blood that has made a home on the underside of your jaw. How long has it been there? Have you always looked so unwell? So sick in mind and body? The promise of a shower grows unbearably pleasant. 
The knob squeaks when you turn it, screeching as the pipes hum and clang to life. Water spits out in a few bursts before raining down from the faucet and hitting the back of the tub in a steady thrum. It sounds a little bit like music to you, constant and heavy, and it gives the impression of normalcy as you begin undressing. 
The fabric of your clothes sticks to your skin, peeling from your body in an unbearable and disgusting way. You don’t look at your body in the mirror. In fact, you avoid it entirely. Not recognizing your face was enough, but your body—a part of yourself you never really recognized—would drive you over the edge. 
Then, you pull the shower curtain back and stick your hand under the water, stepping into it fully with a deep sigh. The water is lukewarm. They probably turned off the heater to conserve power and allow the main generator to function for longer. That’s fine. Beggars can’t be choosers and everyone is a beggar nowadays. Besides, it’s warm enough outside that the water isn’t too cold as it is. In the winter, you probably wouldn’t be able to shower and the pipes might freeze entirely until the following spring. 
There’s a normalcy that you settle into as you wash your body. You return to muscle memory, running your hands over your skin and scrubbing the grime out. It’s simultaneously like the first shower of your life and as if you’ve been doing it every day. You return to a state of pleasant, familiar humanity as you wash away dirt that has built up for weeks. You feel as it pours off of you, see it run down your body onto the porcelain of the tub and swirl down the drain. It’s dirt and dried blood that has been caked onto your skin. You worry that even after washing, it will leave a permanent mark. 
The person in the mirror when you get out of the shower is in stark contrast to the person who went into it. They’re someone that you recognize. You could almost convince yourself that nothing ever changed. Your water-soaked skin is so familiar to you, that you could be getting out of the shower and dressing to go to work. If it weren’t for the look in your eyes, you could have fooled yourself. Something undefinable has changed in you, something that you will carry with you forever. You glance at yourself in the foggy mirror and think that there is no going back. 
The house is quiet when you dry yourself and open the bathroom door. You step across the hall on the balls of your feet, careful not to make any noise, and when you push the bedroom door open, you do a visual sweep to make sure that it’s safe out of habit. 
Your body is exhausted. You are so thoroughly tired that you think you could collapse at any moment, but when you sit down on the bed in your fresh clothes, you find yourself restless. This place is new to you and you’re unsure if the safe feeling is your mind playing desperate tricks on you or the real thing. The lamp by your bed is on, casting a yellow glow across the bedsheets and the dark wood furniture. Come to think of it, you didn’t get a good look at the house when you came in and the thought starts to bother you as you stare at the closed door to the hallway. 
Someone could be behind it. They could be waiting for you to lay down, to sleep, before doing something awful. You almost feel guilty for thinking this way about them. They’ve fed you, given you a shower, given you fresh clothes. Luxuries you weren’t sure even existed anymore, yet you’re sitting here doubting them, wishing you had your pistol or knife.
The bedroom door creaks as you open it. You wince, nervous that you’ve disturbed the quiet peace of the house and that everything will come crashing down as quickly as it seemed to come together. The hallway is dark, save for some light coming from under two doors at the end of the hall. One of them turns out as you creep past it to the stairs, and you hear the distinct sound of box springs squeaking as someone crawls into bed. You let go of the breath you’d been holding, straightening up as you relax into the late-night environment. 
The house looks old even from the inside. It gives the impression of having once been dirty and in near disrepair. There are dust stains and dull spots that no amount of scrubbing could get out. You can almost picture how this place may have looked when they found it and it’s entirely possible that it had been abandoned before the actual outbreak. Someone run out of their home for lack of money. What a trivial thing now. 
The stairs are sturdy, probably held together so well by the foundation of the house, and they’re made of dark wood. They’re steep too, the kind that a baby or old person might trip over, and you hold the railing to calm the shaking of your legs as you slowly feel your way down. You can see the light on in the kitchen from around the corner, spreading out onto the floor of the old fashioned drawing room. Dishes clink in the kitchen, like someone is washing them, and you jump a little at the noise as you creep around the corner. 
Kirishima is standing at the sink with his back to you, whispering something to someone beside him. The expanse of his back is broad, moving every time he goes to run his hand over the dish in front of him. Then, he turns to look at you and you see Mina pop her head around the corner. 
“Oh,” Kiri says, “did you need something?” 
You shake your head. “Not really, I just couldn’t sleep.” 
Kiri nods sympathetically as if he knows the feeling. “Well, you look like you feel a little better at least.” 
You pad over to where he’s doing the dishes and Mina offers you a soft smile and a knowing look. It all seems so normal. Doing the dishes, whispering quietly as they do. Something about it screams a kind of humanity you haven’t experienced in a long while, even with your last group. 
“Are you sure we can’t get you something?” Mina says, furrowing her brows. 
“Why are you all being so nice to me?” You ask. “You don’t know the first thing about me.” 
“Is there some reason why we shouldn’t be nice to you?” Kiri says over his shoulder. 
“No,” you shake your head. “I just think it’s reckless, that’s all. I could have been anyone.” 
Kirishima and Mina exchange a look. They glance at each other, like they’re debating on saying something, and then Kiri turns and rests his palms on the back of the sink. He looks at Mina. 
“We don’t usually decide to do this so quickly,” she admits. “We’re friendly, but nobody’s that friendly anymore.” 
Kiri nods his agreement and you listen quietly, trying to determine if they plan to toss you back out into the woods in the morning. 
“But, Katsuki doesn’t usually bring people in,” she continues. 
“He’s a little more closed off than the rest of us,” Kirishima adds. “He’s a good guy, just takes a while to warm up, is all.” 
“Mhm,” Mina says. 
“What does that have to do with me?” you ask. “This is nice and all, but I’m sure you get why I’m wary.” 
“He’s a good judge of character,” Kiri adds earnestly. “He doesn’t bring people in often, but when he does, he’s usually right.” 
You nod, not quite understanding. Sure, you don’t plan to do anything terrible. In fact, you’re content to accept their kindness and stay, if they’d let you. Anything is better than being alone, but their blind trust in one man’s judgment of character makes you uneasy. 
“He was alone for a really long time,” Mina adds. “A lot of us were. I got lucky meeting Kirishima early on, but Katsuki’s luck was a little less fortuitous.” 
“So you all just… happened upon each other by chance?” You ask. 
“Yeah, pretty much,” Mina says. “It was me and Kiri for a long time. Just the two of us. We’d found Izuku and Katsuki together a while later, but they didn’t seem to like each other all that much. We still haven’t really figured that out, especially because they’re so close now. Ochako and Sero ended up cornered together by accident. We found them just before we found this place, and Denki just sort of showed up here one day and promised to fix the generator in exchange for safety. That was months ago. We’ve been like this since.”
“So you’re all strays,” you say and Mina laughs a little and looks at Kiri. 
“Sure,” she says. “We’re all strays. There were others too. Shoji. Jirou. She was Denki’s girlfriend.” 
“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown. It feels pointless to apologize for the dead, if you get caught up in it, you’d be apologizing forever. 
“Don’t be,” Kiri adds. “But best not to bring her up. It was pretty recent and Denki’s only just started to get over it.” 
You swallow thick and nod a little. 
“Anyway,” Mina says, “we can’t really explain it. We just trust him. We trust Katsuki. That’s all.” 
“Hm,” you hum, understanding that to a degree. 
You trusted the people in your group. If they believed in someone, you were willing to as well, so you suppose you can understand a little where they’re coming from. 
“What are you talking about,” Katsuki rounds the corner, walking into the kitchen and putting his water bottle under the sink. 
“Nothing really,” Mina says. 
Katsuki furrows his eyebrows and then looks at you. He gives you a once over, taking in your new clothing before scoffing lightly. 
“Don’t you look cozy,” he says. “You get settled?” 
“When can I go get my stuff?” You ask. 
“Someone’s eager,” he says through lightly gritted teeth. “Didn’t I tell ya we could go in the morning? Besides, what’s there really to miss in that lot of junk?” 
“Katsuki!” Mina quietly chides. 
“I have things I care about there,” you say. “Things I’m not ready to lose.” 
Katsuki blinks at you for a second before swearing under his breath. “We’ll leave when you get up in the morning.” 
“You don’t have to come with me,” you say, frowning a bit at his sour attitude. 
“Like hell,” he scoffs. “What if the dead are waiting back there for you?” 
“I made it this far on my own,” you respond. 
Katsuki nods for a second. “I’m going. Come find me in the morning.” 
He walks off and around the corner. You hear him go up the stairs, followed by the distinct click of a bedroom door shutting. 
“Don’t pay too much attention to that,” Mina says. “It’s past his bedtime.” 
“You’ll get used to him,” Kiri adds. 
“Right,” you say, swallowing down your frustration in favor of trying to be appreciative of the help. You sway on your feet a little and then steady yourself. “I’m going to go to sleep. Thank you for the meal and the bed.” 
Mina and Kiri nod, but you don’t stick around to hear a response. Fatigue creeps up on you. It ambushes your senses and you go from feeling dream-like to delusional in a matter of moments. You make your way up the stairs, your body feeling heavy as lead, and wobble your way into the bedroom they’re letting you stay in. 
When your head hits the pillow, you’re out. The world around you fades to dark and just before you sleep, you swear that you can hear the sounds of cars passing on the highway. A busy night, Saturday maybe, and people go about their daily lives outside of the window the way that they always have. They live, never the wiser to just how quickly things fall apart and how little it takes for our humanity to leave us. 
— 
Mornings in this place are boisterous. The sun coming through the lone window in your room wakes you up and you can hear the calls of busy people getting to work outside. There are voices from the porch out front that your window looks over and though you can’t see them, you get the sense that they’re having a pleasant conversation. 
As you rouse, you come to the realization of just how exhausted you’d really been. They probably saved your life by bringing you to this place, feeding you, and offering you a bed. In hindsight, it’s easy to see just how little you had left in you. You get the sense now that you’d been running on an empty tank for days, slowly coming to an inglorious, gruesome, sputtering stop. 
Things seem a little clearer, like the sunlight is somehow less bleak than it had been the days previous and you feel a little bit like you have a new lease on life. There are no big emotions, no swells of hope or humanity just yet, and you dread the moment you are rested enough to let grief consume you. Right now, you can’t feel it, but there is a fear in you that as you get to know these people who live relatively beautifully in an ugly world, it will weigh you down so much that you’ll never be able to outrun it. 
You wonder if they’ll let you stay. They very well may not, even with the way they were talking last night. Strangers are more dangerous than they’ve ever been and if they ask you whether or not you’ve killed someone, you refuse to lie to them. Sitting up on the bed, you mull over the very real possibility that you could be back out there on your own again in a matter of days and you don’t even have that many good acts under your belt to plead your case. You’re just a person and you’ve done what you needed to in order to survive. Now, you’re not sure if that’s enough. 
You swallow thick, wandering over to the mirror on the dresser. It’s fogged, though less than the bathroom mirror, and you can make out your features a little better than you could last night. You feel a bit more sane, though you still don’t recognize the frightful and distrustful look in your eyes. Like a wounded animal. Inside your head, you acknowledge that you are completely different from the person you were two hundred and seventy seven days ago. 
The voices grow louder as you climb down the stairs, more secure on your feet than you felt last night. You can hear them talking about the generator, as well as a name you don’t recognize. 
“He should be back by now,” a woman says. “Shoto’s never gone longer than a day or two, max.” 
“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” another woman says with a worried bite in her voice. Mina, maybe? “We’re only a few hours into the day. He probably got holed up somewhere.” 
“Someone needs to go look for him,” a man says.
“And what? Risk getting yourself killed?” the first woman says. “No, it doesn’t make sense. We need you here.” 
“You’d rather we leave him to die on his own?” 
“No one’s fuckin’ dying.” 
You recognize Katsuki’s voice. 
“He’s perfectly capable of going on a gasoline run,” he continues. “He’s done it before.” 
“I should have gone with him,” says the same woman. 
“On that leg? You wouldn’t have made it halfway to town, let alone there and back,” his voice raises a little. “Don’t be stupid. He’ll be back.” 
You clear your throat and step around the corner. The group turns to face you quickly at the sound, their eyes wide for a moment before relaxing. You can’t sneak up on anyone nowadays. 
“Sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Is everything okay?” 
It’s not your business, but you ask anyway, wondering for yourself about the safety of Shoto. 
“Fine,” Izuku says, shaking his head. You recognize him to be the one who'd vouched for going after their friend. Katsuki takes a step away from the broad man as he says this. “Nothing for you to worry about. Did you rest?” 
Izuku smiles gently at you, his chest inflating a little at the question. The movement broadens his shoulders and you realize that he stands almost a head taller than Katsuki. You look briefly between the two of them before nodding. 
“I did,” you say. “Thank you.” 
“Nothing wrong with a little hospitality now and then,” he smiles and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the distinct hesitance in his voice. 
“I don’t think we’ve met,” the woman standing across from Izuku says. “I’m Momo. Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you last night. I’ve been a little under the weather.” 
You introduce yourself to her and glance down at her leg. Her ankle is swollen and wrapped in a bandage. Her sneaker laces are untied at the top to make room for the swelling and you can see that she’s guarding that side of her leg. 
“Is it…?” you grimace, taking an instinctive step away from her. You almost feel bad for it, but sometimes good people make bad decisions when loved ones get bit. 
“No,” she says quickly, “no, it isn’t. Caught an edge in an old chain link fence on the property a couple days back.” 
Momo smiles slightly at you as if to reassure you. She’s really beautiful, with thick dark hair pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail. Her eyes are bright, like she’s engaged in lively conversation, and you find yourself feeling a little sad for her. She’ll need medicine soon, if they can get it. Infections set in easily these days and you get the sense that even she knows that she may not have long without it. Maybe that’s something else their friend Shoto set out to find. 
“I assume you’ll be wanting to go get your supplies?” Katsuki says, cutting the conversation short. Maybe he could sense the sour turn of thoughts. 
“Ready when you are,” you respond with a nod. 
Katsuki glances at Izuku, who gives him a slightly disapproving look. 
“Someone get them something to eat,” Katsuki says. “...I’ll get my shit ready.” 
“Fig jam…” Mina mumbles as she motions for you to follow her to the kitchen. 
You oblige her, not exactly jumping to turn down a meal. She walks you into the kitchen and opens up a cabinet, where she pulls out a jar filled with a dark and seed filled paste. It’s a jam, sealed in a jar that looks older than what’s inside of it. The seal breaks open with a pleasant pop. 
“This stuff is so good,” she says to you over her shoulder, pulling out a package of crackers that have likely gone stale. “You won’t believe it.” 
She spreads the jam on a few crackers and sets it in front of you on a plate, pushing it across the counter towards you. 
“It’s fig jam,” she says with a smile. “Homemade.” 
You look down at the plate, your mouth watering at the prospect of something sweet like this. It’s been so long since you've had fresh jam. It could be as long as 10 years. You don’t think you’ve had it since you were a kid, when jam came easily and you preferred the processed brands at the supermarket to the ones your mom used to make sometimes. 
You raise the cracker to your mouth and stuff it in with little grace. The sweetness spreads across your tongue as soon as you bite into the stale cracker. It fizzes and pops almost, the sugar melting across your tongue as the seeds crack softly between your teeth. The smile that hits your face is completely involuntary and though you know that nine months ago, this jam wouldn’t have been much, today it is something extraordinary. 
Mina nods a kind of girlish agreement, like the way people used to when they had their friend try something at their favorite restaurant. 
“We got here in the fall. I want to say late October or early November?” she offers. “We were starving and there wasn’t enough food to feed all of us. By that time there were like… nine of us.” 
You listen as you eat your crackers. 
“This place was in such an awful state,” she laughs. “I mean, really terrible. But, it was big and there was a fig tree in the back. A little thing, probably only a few years old and it had fruit on it. We ate so many of them that if the world were normal, we’d have sworn off of them forever. When we realized that the house actually had some old food in it,” she interrupts herself “-nothing good, canned stuff mostly- we decided to jar up the rest of the figs so that they didn’t rot.” 
She smiles at you like it’s a pleasant memory, but you can only think about how hungry they must have been. Your stomach growls as you eat. 
“I know it doesn’t sound like much,” she says, “but for some reason it’s a really nice memory. Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t die.” 
Mina laughs a little. 
“I mean,” she continues, “we didn’t even clear the area before we started pulling at the figs and throwing them into our mouths.” 
You tilt your head at her and furrow your eyebrows with a small smile. 
“You’re really forthcoming with information.” 
“You just seem a little hesitant, is all,” she answers. 
“Can you blame me?” 
Mina shrugs her shoulders but doesn’t really offer an answer. You assume it’s because she can’t, because Mina has the same doubts everyone carries with them in this world. All of the what ifs people would think about before they slept have become more prevalent than anyone would have ever liked. 
“The jam is good,” you say, trying to be friendly in the same way she is. “Even if it is months old.” 
“Things keep well in jars,” Mina defends softly, smiling a little as she gets another out of you. 
This place feels like a little slice of paradise. A blessing from whoever lived here before and kept a garden stocked with vegetables. From someone who lived in an old house with stables and well-water, who kept canned food past its expiration date. It feels almost too good to be true, like these people live in a bubble bound to pop. 
“You ready?” Katsuki thuds into the kitchen with an empty backpack slung over his shoulder. 
You turn, startled by his sudden appearance and nod as you quickly finish chewing the last cracker. Katsuki furrows his eyebrows as he watches the way you scarf it down. 
When you stand from the table, Katsuki turns on his heel to make for the front door and you follow with a light step. Mina says something about staying safe, but you don’t respond, glancing once over your shoulder at the girl. 
It’s strange, the world has made you wishy-washy and uncommitted. You never used to be like that, never so distrusting as to second guess someone’s kindness the moment your back is turned to them, and you’re certainly not the type to be friendly one moment and closed off the next. Now though, you find that doubt creeps in easily through cracks and any foundation that didn’t exist before, seems to be swallowed before you can finish building it. 
Katsuki leads you back across the small clearing you’d come through the night before. It looks different in the day, almost romantic, and it lacks any of the ominous feeling it had the previous evening. He steps over mounds in the dirt from moles and gophers that have made lawns their new home and you try to mimic his steps, sinking occasionally into a particularly soft patch of dirt. Every now and then, Katsuki glances behind him to check that you’re still there and you offer him a forced smile that he never returns.
You catch up to him when you hit the trees, sticking close at his side like something will come and take you away if you’re not. It’s unintentional, but you don’t have a weapon on you. Your knife is back at your makeshift camp, along with the unloaded pistol and your trusty spatula. 
“How do you know where we’re going?” You ask in a whisper. 
Katsuki tosses a look at you over his shoulder. “I’m good with directions.” 
His tone is clipped, like he’s pissed about something, and your expression sours at it. Sure, you get it but it irritates you to some small degree. You hadn’t asked him to come along. In fact, you’d have been fine getting back here to collect your stuff on your own. You’d have asked for a knife and set out without a second thought, if only because being alone in the woods with some guy was less preferable than doing it by yourself. Of course, some guy also probably saved your life, but you’re not quite ready to relinquish your trust completely. 
“Thanks for coming,” you decide. A peace offering. 
Katsuki doesn’t answer and you furrow your brows a little bit. You wonder if he’s always been like this or if the end of the world brought on the loss of his manners. 
Then, he stops, taking you by the arm and pulling you down beside a bush. You gasp and he puts his hand over your mouth to silence you. There’s the urge to bite him, to catch the fleshy bit connecting his thumb and pointer finger between your teeth and bite down till he bleeds, but you stop when you catch what he’s looking at. 
Two of the living dead crouch by a tree, clicking their tongues as they eat something just out of sight. You furrow your eyebrows, eyes widening at the horror of it. For some reason, seeing them always brings about a round of momentary shock. You’ve yet to let go of the hounding thought that they used to be people and sometimes have to reorient yourself to the world you’re in now. 
You catch Katsuki’s eye behind you, his calloused hand still clasped over your mouth, and nod your head. It’s a silent communication that you’ve seen what he has and he removes his palm from your face to grab a knife tucked into his belt, passing it to you quickly. 
The two infected haven’t noticed the two of you yet, but they will soon, if only by the smell of your flesh which has yet to rot. You hear Katsuki let out a breath, as if to calm his heart, and do the same. There’s time to look at them like this and you’re struck by how human you can pretend they are in your head. Well, you suppose they were human once, now they’re a disease using someone’s skin as a mask. 
Infected people aren’t quick, that’s one thing to be grateful for. Back when the outbreak first started, the CDC had released information on what to look out for in those who might have contracted the virus. The first was obviously a bite wound from another infected person, but you can tell from other symptoms. Early symptoms are average. Body aches, fever, lethargy, and delirium. All things you might see with a nasty flu. Then, infection of the wound site, twitching, foggy eyes—like low-grade cataracts—that develop within a matter of hours or days, severe disorientation, aversion to food, insomnia, with the final symptom being a coma that no one ever wakes up as themselves from. 
These are the symptoms that people are conscious for. The ones they feel. The sickness that people tried to nurse others back from. There is no coming back though, not alive at the very least. The virus attacks the nerves throughout the brain and body, that’s what causes the twitching and convulsions. It’s what ultimately kills us, and it's what they think causes the bodies to come back. 
Most infected will crack when they move. It’s the cartilage breaking down as the bones grind together and crack as they’re weakened from the marrow out. They twitch like rabid animals, unable to keep masterful control of their bodies because they are run like puppets from the brain stem. You don’t know if they think. If somehow the people they used to be are still in there, unable to stop themselves from consuming and spreading the virus to others. All you really know is that they twitch and click, functions of the brain that still remain. Tiny impulses sent through the synapses. You imagine it to be like the way you twitch when you sleep, an arm here or a leg there, the way someone might call out with their voice to a room with no one in it. 
Maybe the infected think they’re dreaming. A nightmare that they never wake up from, like those of us who have to put them down. You could see it as a mercy from that perspective. You have an easier time rationalizing putting a knife in someone’s skull if you convince yourself that they’re silently begging for it. 
Katsuki shifts his weight and looks at you. He mouths the words no guns and you nod, briefly wondering where the fuck he thinks you could have gotten a gun from. 
Then, you kick off and run with Katsuki towards the infected. They don’t really have time to begin moving towards you both. You’re faster than them, but you hear the crack of their legs as they stand from their crouched positions, pulled in at the idea of their next meal.
Katsuki takes the farther one, sinking the knife into the soft spot of its temple with relative ease. You switch yourself off and take the one closest only a few moments later, sending your blade through the top of its skull. That happens to you when you have to do this. You turn yourself off for a bit, just so that you don’t have to remember the way it feels to hit the soft part of someone’s brain. You didn’t used to do that, only starting when you realized that there’s no going through this world anymore without it. 
Katsuki wipes the blood on his pants. It’s brown, no longer oxygenated, and the area around you begins to reek. You notice, but for some reason the smell of decomposition doesn’t register in your brain and you continue on behind him. 
There are a few beats of silence, save for twigs breaking under your feet, before Katsuki speaks up. 
“You okay?” It’s barely above a whisper and you wouldn’t have caught it were you not listening for the distinctive crack of human bones. 
“Yeah,” you say, continuing forward. 
The campsite rounds into view and in this light, with your full night’s sleep under your belt, you can see just how pitiful it looks. A tent that you’d hastily put up before nightfall, the remains of your stamped out fire, the folding chair which has since been knocked over, and your weapons on the floor covered by a few leaves disturbed by the wind. 
You snatch them up and move to grab your backpack out of the tent. The inside is shitty too and your torn sleeping bag hadn’t even been rolled out yet. You pick up the bag, returning to the folding chair as Katsuki begins to take down the tent. The polyester and nylon blend zips together as he makes quick work of folding it. Then, he kicks some dry brush over the remains of the fire, like he’s covering your tracks. 
“The next person that comes through here might not be alone,” he says plainly. “And they may have more bullets than you did.” 
“Right,” you respond. Your voice sounds a little far off and you settle your backpack on your shoulder in one quick motion. 
“Got everything?” 
You nod, following him as he heads out in the direction you both came from. The two of you pass the bodies of the infected you’d killed. The smell has permeated the air, lingering like how it does in cities, only less pungent. Their fogged eyes stare blankly at nothing, expressions plain and unreadable. You pass and try not to think much about it. 
Katsuki is a few feet ahead of you and he doesn’t glance back to make sure you’re following. You could leave now and never get attached to these people. You could head off in another direction and never have to think twice about it. No more worrying about who you could lose, about who’s next to become one of the sick masses. Just you by yourself. Then, when you finally kick the can, someone else can put you down the way you did to those strangers. 
Is there really a point to it anymore? To community or living in general. No one is as they once were. Does that make it fantasy to live in their beautiful bubble? Could you even find it in yourself to pretend again, to make nice and play house in that place? They saved your life, sure. They fed you, clothed you, bathed you, but for what point? Tomorrow, you could end up back in the woods, lighting fires with twigs you found in the brush, paranoid that someone would find you or the fire would spread. 
You watch Katsuki’s back as he moves, shoulders shifting with each step. His shirt is stained, white turned eggshell from the wear and tear of time. It seems so off to you that he looks relatively clean, like he lives well. 
Fear strikes you as you realize that your rambling thoughts have merit. Anything you fear now has become real and loss is so tangible to you that you can squeeze it in your hand. They could turn you out. Tomorrow night you could begin the starve and step all over again, moving from place to place, talking to yourself, filling your hours with paranoid thoughts like these that plague you when you’re alone. Is that worse than loss? If you’re alone long enough, you’d probably forget what you’re missing. Losing anyone else could make the wound fresh. For now, the hunger wins out. 
Katsuki jogs ahead of you to get to the house. Momo is on the porch waving him in and he hurries up the steps and bursts through the front door. As you approach, you can hear voices, some of which are relieved, others hurried. When you enter the room, you find a man standing there whom you’ve never seen before, Shoto maybe. 
“A plus one,” the man looks up, tilting his head at you in an odd way. 
“Katsuki’s,” Kiri says with a low smirk. 
Shoto’s eyes widen as he peers at his friend, clutching what looks like an injured shoulder. Katsuki just huffs his irritation. 
“Well, that’s rare,” Shoto says. 
“What’s rare?” Katsuki spits. “They were in the woods with a fire. What was I supposed to do? Let ‘em die?” 
“Maybe,” Shoto says, a light smile creeping onto his features. Then, he turns to you. “What’s your name?” 
You give it to him and he nods his head, tilting it at you again. 
“How long are you staying?”
You’re not sure how to answer that question. In fact, no one is, and it feels like more of a test than it does a genuine inquiry. Kiri and Mina exchange a glance and Katsuki tosses a somewhat dirty look towards Shoto. Ochako gives Shoto a knowing glance and Sero and Denki shift uncomfortably on their feet. Then, Momo clears her throat, spurring Izuku to say something. 
“Shoto,” he says. “You’re probably hungry, you should eat something and lay down. Ochako? Could you take a look at his shoulder?” 
“Sure,” the girl says softly, giving a closed mouth smile to Shoto as she takes him by the arm. 
She glances at you as she passes, almost like she’s too embarrassed to look at you fully in the face. You suppose this is what happens when people are forced to think about whether or not they will potentially leave someone else to die. It’s like the trolley cart question and though in this case there is always the possibility of a better outcome, it’s not likely in this world. 
“Just until I’m rested,” you add with a small tilt of your head. “A few days.” 
Shoto looks at you over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. It’s funny, you can see kindness there. His actions aren’t kind, but you can feel that he has kindness in him, though his rudeness stems from something different than Katsuki’s, you think. Like he’s strange in some way. 
“I’ll start on dinner,” Sero says. “Kiri, give me a hand.” 
The group disperses and you head upstairs without speaking to anyone else. A few days to rest and then cut the first people you’ve spoken to in weeks loose. What sort of idiot gives up something like this to avoid a little awkwardness? Not that you necessarily had your mind made up. You wonder briefly if you’ve just sealed your own tomb. 
After dinner, you go upstairs to sleep after eating as much as they would offer you. Your stomach has ceased its constant growling and the shakiness that comes with hunger has receded almost entirely into the background. The bed is soft, with a slight dent in it from whoever slept in here before. The thought unsettles you that they’re probably dead now, but you try to push it from your mind as you steel yourself for what comes within the next few days. 
You had volunteered yourself to leave. To what? Save yourself the embarrassment of pleading? Did you even want to plead? Why are you regretting not asking to stay? These people don’t know you, what trust can you have built with them in only a few days? Your skin crawls at the expanse of possibilities in front of you after so many weeks without any. 
You think that if you let yourself walk away, you’ll probably die. You’re out of bullets and don’t know where to find any food except by luck. You can try to catch prey, but prey hides whenever infected are around, and they’re everywhere nowadays. It’s spring, water wouldn’t be a problem, but running water has its clear comforts. Then, there’s the possibility of loss. You’d come to care for these people if you stayed, you know it. 
You furrow your eyebrows and look at the ceiling. There’s really no choice to be made. You’ll let them make it for you, even if you don’t know them. It’s their house and you won’t walk in uninvited or try to take it. You’re not about to become a monster just because the world is full of them now.
The darkness grows and your eyes drift to the dim light wandering in under the crack of the door. Hushed voices whisper in the living room, you can hear them. It’s a heated discussion, lively, but deliberately quiet. It’s been hours since everyone went to bed, yet you get the impression that many people are chiming in. You’re too nosey to leave it be. 
You open the bedroom door silently, turning the cool knob with a wince as it clicks out of place. When you peer into the hallway, every upstairs bedroom door is open with the room empty. The light is coming from down stairs and around the corner, and you can see shadows move as you inch closer to the source. 
You pause at the top of the stairs, knowing that they creak, and crouch by the bannister to listen. You’re out of sight. The only way they’d know you’re listening is if you made a sound, but you won’t. You’re good at being quiet. 
“We don’t even know them,” someone says in a rushed whisper. “We don’t know what they’ve done before.” 
“Everyone’s done things they’re not proud of now, Shoto,” a woman adds. It’s Mina. She’s spoken enough to you that you recognize her voice. 
“I agree with Shoto,” says another woman, her voice higher pitched. She sounds guilty and her voice is tight as she speaks “We have no clue who they are. They could be dangerous.” 
“You mean like me, Ochako?” A man adds. “I could have been dangerous.” 
The group grows quiet for a moment. 
“No,” Momo says. You recognize the cadence of her voice. “Shoto might be right, Denki. It’s been nearly six months since you got here and the world has changed a lot. We don’t- we can’t know for sure.”
“Can we really know anything for sure?” Another man adds, Kiri.
“What about you guys?” Shoto says, presumably to the rest of the group. 
“I don’t know.”
“I’m hesitant, but I don’t know either.”  
“Jesus,” another man with a baritone voice, harsher than the rest. That’s Katsuki, the first voice you’d heard of the group. “You guys make me a little sick.” 
“That’s not fair,” Ochako says. 
“No,” he interrupts. “It is fair. You guys want to… what? Send them back out there to die?” 
“It’s not like that,” Shoto says.  
“It is like that,” he says, raising his voice and then lowering it back to a whisper. “You didn’t see them when they got here, Shoto. They- they didn’t look… shit. The rest of you, you saw them. You really want to send them back out there to fuckin’ waste away? I don’t know about you all, but I won’t do that to a person.” 
There’s a pregnant pause.
“Katsuki’s right,” Izuku says with a bit of conviction, like he’s finally made up his mind. “Sending someone out there alone is a death sentence. How does doing that make us any better than the people we’re trying to protect ourselves from?” 
“What if there are more of them?” Ochako says quietly. “What if they’re not alone?” 
“Trust me,” Katsuki says, “They were alone.” 
“But what if they’re not?” She insists at a whisper, a bit of shame creeping into her voice. “What if people come for us?” 
“See?” Shoto says gently. “There are so many what-ifs.” 
“That works the other way too,” Mina adds. 
You don’t listen to hear the rest of their conversation. They’re going to run themselves in circles debating about you. They’ll go around and around and land on whichever argument ends with the most votes. They’ll convince each other of one thing and it will happen totally out of your control. 
The bedroom door shuts with a low click that makes you wince again. You think about the people who went to bat for you and the people who didn’t. You don’t blame those who opposed. You’d have probably reacted similarly if your old group were still alive and you understand very clearly why they do it. One person’s stupid reaction can be catastrophic and they don’t know enough about you to be certain that you’re not one of those stupid people. It’s how the world went to shit in the first place and though nine months ago you’d have surely condemned someone for making the same decision, you know that fear has warped humanity beyond comprehension. You didn’t get it until you lived it. 
Still, Katsuki’s humanity feels intact somehow, more so than yours at least. His response is something you probably never would have said under the same conditions and you can’t help but feel some sort of fondness bloom in you for him. Call it connection, gratefulness for his willingness to stick his neck out for you, a trauma response. You still feel it. Mina and Kiri had said that Katsuki was a good judge of character and that’s why they were willing to back him. You wonder briefly if maybe Katsuki sees something in you that you don’t recognize in yourself anymore, or maybe something you don’t expect other people to recognize. What is it that he wants so badly to protect? 
Someone stomps down the hallway, heavy boots against the old creaky floors. You hear the steps recede down the hallway, maybe a door or two down, before it shuts quickly. The sound makes you wince and you listen as the house grows quiet and then hums quietly with the sound of others coming upstairs a few moments later. Someone pads to the end of the hall, pushing the door open. 
You hear a woman’s voice, so muffled that you can’t make out what she’s saying. Then, you hear the sound of a man’s affirmation before the bedroom door shuts and the visitor moves back down the hall to a separate bedroom. Information passing through the house. 
Someone is moving around in a room below you and you figure that there are probably bedrooms downstairs as well. From the outside, you’d never guess that the place could house ten people. Inside though, the bedrooms are small. That’s probably why so many can fit. You’d guess that the place used to have multiple generations living in it, or maybe even rented out rooms to people for a few months. It sort of has a boarding house feel to it, like many people have come and gone even before people stopped staying in one place. 
That’s a good thing to call it, the boarding house. It certainly has that sort of feel to it, many of its spaces undeniably communal. 
You turn over in the bed, facing the bedroom door. The lights have gone out completely now and the house is quiet save for the occasional creak or thud from someone preparing to sleep. It’s been a long while since the sounds of living have been so prevalent near you. You’re eased by the sounds of the house settling, a familiar reminder of what living used to be. Your group had been on the road long before you lost them and the comforts of an interior are almost overwhelmingly nostalgic. You’re better rested to notice it now and shutting your eyes, you savor the feeling. 
“Need some help?” You say. 
Denki turns around, grease smeared across his nose where he likely wiped it with his dirty hands. He’s holding a wrench in a glove so tattered that it hardly counts as a glove anymore. He looks startled, amber eyes widening before he uses his forearm to brush stray hairs out of his face. The rest of it is pulled up into a messy ponytail, revealing the moist back of his neck. 
“Oh, sure,” he says, a bit surprised. “Do you know how generators work?” 
He crouches back over the machine and you step up behind him. 
The machine is rusted near the bottom and between the exposed winding pipes. Its paint has chipped away, leaving the weather-damaged metal open for you to see. On the side, a fan-like piece spins slowly in circles and the machine whirs and sputters softly as it… generates power, probably. 
“Not quite, but an extra pair of hands is always helpful,” you say softly, passing him a tool he’d been reaching for. “Did it break?” 
“No,” Denki says, “but it’s probably on its last legs. The thing’s almost as old as we are, probably older, so it’s good to tune it up a bunch.” 
You hum your agreement, tilting your head as you stand and watch him work. 
You’re not necessarily comfortable with Denki, but he feels like a safe person for some reason. Maybe it’s because he’s got a sort of ditzy, non-threatening vibe to him. You can almost distinctly picture him tripping over his own feet and something about that makes you feel considerably safer than someone who wouldn’t. That and he was the first person you’ve come across this morning who you don’t think distrusts you too badly. 
“Are you dodging something?” Denki smirks up at you from his crouch. 
“Who on earth would I be dodging?” you snort a bit defensively. 
“Shoto,” he says with a light smile. “He put you in a tight spot the other day.” 
“Yeah, well,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “It wasn’t anything he didn’t have a right to ask.” 
“Right, but it sure was rude, huh?” 
Denki laughs to himself a little and you’re surprised by how easygoing he is. You subconsciously begin to categorize him with Mina and Kiri. The dichotomy of this group baffles you a bit, but you can certainly see all nine of them as a collective. Tightly knit and well acquainted with the habits of others. 
“Oh!” He exclaims, “I have something you can do for me.” 
You tilt your head. 
“There’s a bucket over there,” he says, pointing absentmindedly to a shitty plastic bucket against the side of the house. “We use the water from the creek as coolant. It’s not factory grade, but it does the trick. You wanna go fill it up and bring it back for when I’m done tuning this thing up?” 
You furrow your eyebrows, not sure where the creek he’s talking about is. 
“The creek is just over there,” he points behind the house to the edge of the treeline. “I know you can’t see it from here, but if you walk in a straight line, you’ll hit it. Katsuki should be down there too, so you can use him as a landmark.” 
When you don’t immediately answer, Denki whines a little. 
“I mean,” he says, “I’d go myself, but-” 
“I’ll do it,” you laugh a little and Denki seems surprised that you do. 
“Really?” 
“Yeah,” you shrug. “I’d like to pull some weight at least while I’m here. Plus, I offered.” 
Denki mumbles his pleasure and you walk to the bucket without another word and set off in the direction Denki pointed. You’re much more willing to go out to the treeline now that you have a knife back at your side. 
The walk to the trees is longer than it looks, like how sometimes the horizon looks like something you could reach out and climb up onto. The walk stretches with each step you take and you become a little more understanding of why Denki didn’t want to do it himself. But the walk is actually pleasant, the warmth of mid May collecting evenly on your skin as the humidity grows more intense with the sun. 
You wonder what Katsuki would be doing by the creek. Maybe he’s fishing, or crouched over himself sharpening an arsenal of knives that you think he might keep in a roll attached to his belt sometimes. You’re not sure why, but Katsuki sort of has that expression to him. He’s handsome, but the scowl projects something hostile that makes him seem unapproachable. 
As you cross through the middle of the clearing, you could almost imagine that this is a normal day. Humidity collects on your skin, making you sweat a little as you dodge gopher holes and soft spots of dirt. It almost feels like summer camp, if it weren’t for the looming idea that you’re contributing to something you may not be a part of. Denki’s attitude though, has you hoping for a more favorable outcome, if you want to call it that. 
You’re only a few steps into the line of trees when the earth dips into a sand-lined ravine. The trees leave room for the sun to beat down on warmed rocks, making the area seem brighter with their subtle reflection of the light. The noise of the creek drowns out the sound of your footsteps and you shuffle toward where the earth flattens just before the water starts. A little ways to your right, you can see Katsuki sitting on a rock in the sun, his hands dipped into a large bucket. You narrow your eyes as he pulls what looks like a cloth out of the water, rubbing the fabric together before dipping it in the cool water of the creek.
As you approach, you realize what it is that he’s doing. It’s laundry. On the other side of him, you can see a bin of what look like dirty clothes and water-soaked clean ones. Talk about misjudged character. 
“Katsuki,” you say as you approach him, the bucket still empty in your hand.
He squints up at you, shifting his face so that it's in your shadow. 
“You’re still here,” he says plainly, returning to his task. 
“Clearly,” you respond, watching as he runs his fingers over the next piece of clothing in the bucket. 
“Why are you down here? Did Denki pawn the generator water onto you?” He says, like he’s somewhat frustrated. “He does that shit to anyone he can.” 
You shrug your shoulders and continue to stare at him. 
“Are you just gonna stand there?” He huffs out. 
“You’re doing laundry.” 
“Yeah?” he furrows his eyebrows and looks at you. “So?” 
“Nothing,” you say. “I just didn’t expect that.” 
“Yeah well,” he stops for a moment like he’s struggling to find the words. “It needed to be done. Figured I might as well.” 
“How progressive of you,” you joke with a straight face. 
He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes and sighs, not justifying your comment with a response. You find yourself smiling a little bit. 
“If you’re going to linger, sit down and do it,” he says. “You’re creeping me out.” 
You oblige him and sit down on a rock next to him, far enough that you’re not touching, but near enough to hear him if you speak in a low voice. For some reason, you feel a sort of kinship with Katsuki. You’d thought longer than you’d like to admit about his willingness to vouch for you and find that you want to live up to his expectation of your goodness, even if it’s not what you believe yourself to be anymore. Maybe it’s because you’ve slept well the past few nights and feel more like yourself, but there’s a certain casualness to conversing with him that you enjoy. He’s not looking at what you could be, but rather what you’re showing him that you are. His lack of doubt in that is something you find relatively attractive. 
You watch his arms out of the corner of your eye in between gazing at the treeline and the sky. Your field of vision catches on them, his sleeves cut short to expose his biceps, a bit muddied near the elbows where the mud has begun to stick. 
Katsuki doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence, but now and then you’ll catch the sideways glance he gives you, almost like he’s trying to figure out exactly why you’re lingering. 
“How long have you been with them?” You ask, more as a way to fill the silence. 
Katsuki’s hands pause as he thinks about answering, then, they continue their steady pace. 
“A decent amount of time,” he says. “I met Izuku first, probably in November just before Mina and Kiri. The rest came later.” 
You furrow your eyebrows. 
“No offense,” you start, “but you don’t really seem like the group type.” 
“And you don’t seem like the type who’d be alone,” he retorts, like your statement was stupid. 
You press your lips into a tight line, not really knowing how to respond. 
“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head a little. 
“Were you?” 
“What? Was I sorry?” He furrows his eyebrows at you. 
“No,” you shake your head. “Were you alone? Before Izuku.” 
He goes silent. You’ll take that as a yes, but you regret asking a little. It had just slipped out. If someone were to ask you something like that, you’d probably react the same way. That’s just as well, you don’t really need to know him like that anyway. 
You wonder briefly if anyone does. He seems closed off, but Mina and Kiri spoke about him a few days prior like they knew him well. Well enough at least to allude to a history you’ll likely never be privy to. Then there’s Momo, who whispers little things to him that he answers in kind. Curiosity gets the better of you, if only to tease. 
“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask and Katsuki’s response is to rest his elbows on his knees and let out a dry laugh. 
He turns his head and looks at you from the side. “And what the fuck are you asking me that for?” 
“Just curious,” you say. “Is it Momo?” 
“Momo?” He makes a sour face at you. “Yeah, right.” 
“She’s pretty,” you say. 
“Sure is,” he responds dryly. “If you’re into the mom type.” 
“What? You’re not into moms?” You grin a little and Katsuki furrows his eyebrows at you. 
“So you do have a personality,” he scoffs a little. 
There’s a pause. You haven’t felt this in a while. The feeling of bonding with someone new, compatibility on the human level that feels nearly instant. 
“I’m kinda serious though,” you say, tilting your head down to catch his eye. “Do you?” 
You’re leaning a little closer to him now.
“You seen any nice restaurants to take a person out to these days?” he questions, clearly a little frustrated with you in the way someone gets when they’re a bit amused. 
“You don’t have to take someone out to a restaurant to fuck them, you know?” You laugh a little. 
Katsuki’s lips part and he swallows like his mouth has gone dry. 
“Yeah, well,” he starts, looking away from you. “I’m a romantic. Sue me.” 
He’s just full of surprises, isn’t he? You find that you’re captivated by this feeling, this humanity, that exists in him. It’s something alive between you both, something left behind from the old world, and you crave it the same way you crave food. 
Katsuki continues scrubbing the clothes, rubbing the fabric together and then dunking it in the bucket before plunging it into the freshwater creek. You’re not sure why you do it, but the next time he looks at you, you kiss him. 
It’s not as if you like him, but it’s something to feel. Some remnant of the butterflies you used to feel on dates and the kiss makes you feel like you could be close to human again. You pull away almost as soon as you put his lips to yours and you can tell that the expression on your face is one of surprise.
Katsuki blinks for a second, looking at you with his brows knitted together. The expression doesn’t leave him as he places a wet hand on the side of your face to kiss you again. It’s an anxious kiss, confused and slow but—like someone riding a bike for the first time in years—it quickly becomes something familiar. Muscle memory that you both let yourselves sink into. 
You can feel his expression as he kisses you, something between confusion and desire, like his own actions are perplexing. You feel the same way, hesitant, but reaching in the dark for the promise of some sort of normalcy. You want to feel like a person again. You haven’t felt it in so long and you push yourself against him as the ache swells in you. 
The two of you continue like this for a moment, Katsuki’s fingers pressing lightly into the skin of your neck. You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth, taking a sharp inhale at the sensation of skin on skin. The sound of the creek drowns out the clicking of your mouths, but you can feel the way he hums into your mouth. They’re little sounds, involuntary ones driven by the nervous, desirous feelings inside of you both. 
Then, Katsuki pulls away, swallowing thick as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. You appreciate the way they look. They’re swollen, anxious to continue and keep forgetting where you really are. He drops his hand from your face with a sigh and almost seems like he comes back to himself. You do the same, moving back into an upright position. 
“Denki will want that water soon,” he clears his throat and motions to the empty bucket by your feet. 
“Oh,” you say, laughing a little. “Right.” 
You stand, dusting off the back of your pants and dunking the bucket into the water. It sloshes, the liquid hitting the back of the plastic with a satisfying elastic sound. You begin to walk away without another word, heading down the way you came to climb up the gentler part of the slope. 
“Hey,” Katsuki calls softly. “You should stay. We talked it over last night. You can if you want to.” 
The last part, he says facing the wash, his hands moving as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You don’t respond, knowing that the obvious answer is already yes. 
Dread settles in your stomach. It’s an icky, swirling feeling that threatens to make you double over. You climb up the bank, the water in the bucket sloshing as you move through the trees and enter the clearing. The feeling doesn’t dissipate, growing as you leave the cover of the trees. You probably wouldn’t have kissed him if he’d asked you that earlier. 
The boarding house comes into view and you can see Denki sitting beside the generator, conversing with who appears to be Shoto. They turn and Denki waves you down, Shoto turning away and starting around for the front of the house. 
Denki jogs to meet you, taking the bucket from your hand. You flex your fingers as the weight is removed, wincing a little at how stiff they feel. 
“Jeez, what took you so long?” Denki laughs and with your new information, you understand his willingness to be friendly with you a little better. 
“I asked Katsuki for his life story,” you respond dryly, following him back to the generator. 
Denki looks over his shoulder and laughs at you. “Did he tell you?” 
You pause for a moment, watching as Denki unscrews something and pours the water in. 
“Nope,” you say. “Not a thing.”
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politemenacephd · 2 months
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Lost at Sea (+18)
💙 Merman!Miguel O'Hara X GN!Reader 💙
After your neglectful partner lets you nearly drown in a storm, you are rescued by an unexpected party: a merman named Miguel, who offers to help heal you. TW: Near drowning, possible thalassophobia, mentions of past emotionally abusive partner.
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💙 Contents: Monster/human relationship, Forbidden romance, Mutual pining, Size difference, Kissing and heavy petting, Cock warming, PinV sex, Underwater sex, Double penetration, Autoerotic asphyxiation, Creampie.
💙 Notes: Holy shit I got way too invested in this one lmao, enjoy
💙 Word count: 7,400
‘God… damn it! CAN YOU GET UP HERE AND HELP—’
Your words were torn from your mouth by the relentless wind as it buffered your skin. The harsh sea salt had cracked your lips and dulled your skin, leaving your cheeks raw and red, and your hands were growing tired from hauling rope.
You were alone on the deck of a tiny ship sailing right into an inferno, and you had no idea what to do.
Your asshole partner had insisted that you go out on their new boat. It’d clearly been an attempt to just show off. You couldn’t get a word in edgewise as they blabbered about their new toy, and eventually you’d just been worn down into going.
You’d tried to warn them about the weather. You’d tried to show them your phone, which clearly indicated that a storm was rolling in midafternoon, but they were too pompous to listen. As always.
You’d agreed to just go a little way out into the cove to see how it ran. They’d made you sit with your hands in your lap while they steered, because clearly you were too clumsy and naïve to touch anything on their precious vessel. You bit down your complaints and tried to enjoy it while you could.
And then, of course, they’d pushed it too far. They’d gone too far from the coast in an attempt to show off.
You’d watched the sky turning from pale blue to a foreboding grey, the clouds growing dark like a bruise on the horizon. Over and over you’d said to turn back, and over and over you’d been told the same thing: You were overreacting, you were petty, you were just trying to ruin this for them.
It was only when the first spatters of rain began to hit the deck that they’d finally decided to turn around, and their stubbornness had cost you dearly. The storm had rolled in faster than you could turn the vessel around. The beach was still just a blurry line in the distance, and the storm was threatening to throw you to the sea’s mercy.
Despite their previous snide comments about you not touching anything, they were currently below deck somewhere while you were struggling to hunker down the sails so you didn’t overturn.
‘Where—are they, fuck—Would you PLEASE help!’
Your desperate cry echoed against the thundering of rain overhead, but there was no reply. You could see the light was on downstairs. You knew they were there, could they really care about you so little?
‘I’m trying to batten everything down! Just hold on!’ Their voice floated out from behind the closed door. It only served to distract you from your job, as you still could barely hear what they were saying.
‘WHAT?’ you cried.
‘I’m battening down!’
‘BATTENING WHAT DOWN?!’
‘Just—’
A fresh gust of wind unsteadied your feet, and the rope slipped from your hands. The sail above was caught by the storm and began to turn the ship faster than you could keep up with.
‘S-Shit, no, no come on—’
You felt your feet slipping on the cold wood. The spray was blinding your sight.
‘Shit… shit—’
You clung to the rope as hard as you could, but when the next wave came in it slipped. Your knot hadn’t been tight enough. To your horror your feet were entirely swept out from underneath you.
‘HELP! HELP!’
You hit the deck and felt the wind knocked from your lungs. You tried to stand but the storm was faster than you, and as you squirmed on the wet deck your body began to slide. You rolled across the slippery wood right towards the edge.
‘No, NO—HEY! HEY! HEL—’
You didn’t even get a second chance to call for help.
You were flung down into the ocean with your stabilizing rope snaking after you into the blackened abyss, and the last thing you saw was your partners silhouette in the single lit window.
The water was freezing as it hit you. You sank down easy into the dark and the chaos.
You thrashed. You clawed. You squirmed and exploded bubbles from your maw, but your clothes were weighing you down, and the storm kept whipping waves over your head every time you even vaguely breached the surface. You got three or four good breathes in before you were swallowing sea water, and your arms were too tired to keep you afloat.
You kept thinking they’d save you. You kept thinking they’d come. But you just, kept, sinking.
Down, down, where the storm sounds were dulled to nothing. Where the world was a weightless, crushing void of indigo. Down to the unknown.
You couldn’t hear, couldn’t see. Your body drifted into the darkness.
But you could have sworn, right before you lost consciousness, that you felt someone grab you.
You woke slowly to the sound of sea birds.
One thought immediately filled your fuzzy mind. You were alive?
You blinked your eyes only to find them slightly crusty with salt. You had to wipe them clean with your wrist, and as you moved that you realized how sore you were. You were cold and stiff, your ankle swollen, but you were alive. How on earth were you alive?
You blinked your eyes a few more times until the crust broke, and with a low moan you began to take in your surroundings.
You were inside a gaping cave, a huge, jagged opening in the side of the bay. You assumed it must be the same bay you’d initially left from and not another since the rock was the exact same colour. There was water gently lapping at your side, water shallow enough to give you a view of the rock beneath. It was faintly pink, covered in barnacles and filled with seaweed and rocks.
A rockpool. You were in a rockpool cave.
You could feel something soft beneath you, which felt strange considering where you were. When you shifted your fingers, you realized that you were laying in a bed of wet kelp and moss atop a rock. Was this, natural?
You winced as you tried to move. The odds of you surviving like this were just non-existent, right? To have been swept into a safe cave, without hitting any rocks on the way, and all in enough time that you hadn’t drowned? It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t. This was unfathomable. There had to be another explanation.
‘Are you awake?’
You jumped at the sound of a stranger’s voice echoing through the cave. It was deep, husky, cold. It wasn’t like any voice you’d ever heard before. You winced for a second time as you tried to roll, and the stranger spoke again.
‘Careful—careful, you’re hurt.’
‘Who—’
You shuffled onto your elbow and peered out towards the caves opening, trying desperately to see who was here. Was it some passerby who stumbled in, or perhaps a coastguard who’d tracked you? Perhaps your luck was turning after all.
But, there was no one at the cave mouth. You frowned, at first, until you felt the breath. Hot, warm breath, stirring your neck. You turned around and yelped.
Beside you was a man. Or at least, part of a man.
Deep red eyes peered at you from beneath a mop of long, thick, dark brown hair, hair that lay is braided strands around his neck and shoulders. He was muscled and broad, his skin brown and calloused by old scars. You could see salt crystals hanging from those thick locks about his shoulders, and it appeared that his skin had been painted or tattooed with smooth neon red lines.
He was a pretty man, a rugged creature of the sea, but he had strangely kind eyes. You could see his unkempt brows were raised in an attempt to seem unthreatening. By all means, if you’d met him in any other scenario, you would have simply been too shy to say a word. You would have been smitten, not frightened.
It was what lay beneath his muscled waist that scared you.
His pelvis gave way to a gargantuan torso, one that resembled the body of a large fish. His tail was long, its skin glimmering a deep and jewel-like navy blue, ending a taper that was decorating with a huge, fluttery, blood red tail, one that crinkled and rippled like fabric. You saw his little fleshy fins, his smooth spines, all glittering with little beads of water.
His fish half was floating idly in the deeper pool while his human torso clung to the rock you were perched on. His eyes were fixed on you, and he had you surrounded.
‘Ah… Y-you—’
‘How do you feel?’
The man’s voice came out gruff as he interrupted your stuttering.
‘I… I’m—’ You tried to speak but struggled to get a single word out. You were paralyzed by a mixture of fear and confusion.
‘You’re… scared, yes?’ the man said in a lower tone. He was trying to sound soft, to sound confident, but it was hard to underplay the powerful image of this otherworldly monster lying across your only way of escape.
‘Y…. y—’
‘I won’t hurt you’ he said slowly. He was clearly a little impatient, a little stiff, but he was trying. ‘I won’t.’
‘You, wont?’ you stammered. The man nodded.
‘I could have hurt you many times before now. I haven’t.’
When your eyes widened in horror the man suddenly sighed, realizing a little too late how that his example was less than comforting. ‘What I mean is, just- I won’t hurt you. I do not plan to hurt you, which is why, I haven’t. Okay? I swear’ he elaborated.
‘What- What are you?’ you said, your voice quivering. He shifted his enormous tail.
‘I’m- me’ he grunted.
‘Yo… what- what does that mean? What are you?!’ You repeated again.
The man tilted his head. ‘Is this, the shock, talking?’ he asked. It was hard to tell if he was being deliberately sarcastic or just struggling to give off a genuinely concerned tone, which certainly threw you off. ‘I, truly can’t tell. Do you want me to answer that genuinely?’
‘Y… You’re, um- you’re, real?’ you said, both a statement and a question. At that he unexpectedly broke into a dumbfounded smile, one that looked comforting on his weather-worn face.
‘Ah. It is the shock, then. I am real, yes. I am—’
‘You’re ah, uh—you’re a, merman’ you stammered. His smile softened as his eyes darted about your face.
‘Yes’ he said softly. ‘Yes, there you go.’
You began to murmur to yourself as you drew up your knees. ‘I’m…. I-I’m sorry, I—’
‘No need to apologize. I’m automatically wary around humans, but, you are… Not exactly a threat.’
‘I… No. I’m, not a threat’ you dumbly replied. You noticed the smile lines by his eyes grow deeper before he coughed to cover them up.
‘Hm. My name is, Miguel, if that helps’ he grunted. He seemed a little uncomfortable being so personable, but he was trying his best to ease your fear. It worked. Slowly you began to relax.
‘Hi’ you mumbled back, ‘I uh… My name is, Y/N.’
You noticed his tail flicking slightly in the deeper pool, causing ripples to dance across its surface towards you. ‘A pleasure to meet you’ Miguel replied in that cold but gentle voice, ‘if only it was under better circumstances.’
‘W- Where, um- can I ask, where am I?’ you panted.
‘You certainly can, you just did. You’re close to shore. You’re by the beach which extends towards the docks from which I assume you left. It’s low tide right now so, if you follow to the right you’ll get back to the beach. I’m, unsure if you can walk though, due to your ankle, and… unfortunately I cannot swim you out yet with the low water. Later, though, I will, when the tide comes back. That was my plan.’
As Miguel gave his monotone recital of your situation, your mind drifted elsewhere. One niggling thought kept bothering you.
‘You… did, you—did you rescue me?’ you asked. It felt a dumb question, but you were truly dumbfounded by this whole situation.
To your surprise, Miguel immediately nodded. ‘Yes. I did. I sensed the ship in the storm and went to check it, and I found you struggling beneath the waves. I hoisted you above the water and… well, I feel I must apologize to you.’
Miguel paused and rubbed his thickset jaw. It was hard to see his face in the dark, but, did he look ashamed?
‘I tried to take you directly to the docks but… With the storm, it was extremely busy. There were sailors trying to cover their vessels all over the board, and—well. I could not risk myself being seen. I brought you here so that I could shield you from the waves without being seen.’
‘No that… that’s, fine’ you mumbled. ‘I mean, I’m grateful you saved me at all. I really… really, thought I was going to die there.’
‘It’s nothing. You’re safe now. Though, I have to ask, why did you go out alone in the first place?’ he asked.
You blinked. ‘Why—what do you mean?’
‘Why did you go out into the storm, on the ship, alone? You’re in shock right now but… You don’t, seem like the kind to be that, risky, to put it nicely’ he repeated.
Immediately your brows furrowed. You remembered it all then; your asshole partner taking you out, forcing you to deal with the ship from the outside as the storm you had predicted would roll in did inevitably roll in. Had they even done anything to save you? Had they even noticed?
Miguel tilted his head at your expression. ‘What is it? Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Uh—no, it’s not your fault. Sorry. I wasn’t on the ship alone, and it wasn’t my choice. My, partner, I guess, wanted to go out and I didn’t want to start a fight by refusing. I knew there was a storm but they… didn’t- Ah, fuck- they didn’t listen to me.’
It felt strange saying partner at this point. In your head you certainly weren’t thinking of them the same way you used to. Really, you hadn’t thought of them like that for a while.
You slumped a little on the moss. ‘Ah… fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m gonna have to deal with that when I go back.’
Miguel didn’t say a thing at first. He just lay back and watched you writhe with patient eyes, until he noticed your foot impatiently tapping.
‘You seem… tense’ he murmured.
You tried desperately to look away.
‘Is it the pain?’ he asked. You shook your head.
‘No, I don’t—’ You tried to draw up your knees to your chest but you winced the second your ankle moved. You got too embarrassed and let it slide back down. ‘I don’t… want to go back.’
Miguel blinked again. ‘Why not?’
‘What do I have to go back to?’ you said with a slightly sad laugh. ‘That—asshole? Who left me on the ship, who let me fall overboard? I’m sure I’ll go back and, I’ll either get chewed out like this was my fault or I’ll get smothered with worry and guilt tripping until I internalize that it WAS my fault, and either I stay with them in that shitty cycle or- or I leave, and, I try to figure shit out.’
You tapped your foot violently at the thought. ‘No. I’m not going back to them. Not again. I- I can’t. I WON’T. And, in that case… I got, nothing. No home, no- friends out here, no real assets just… ah. Fucckk.’
You hiccupped into an awkward finish, and after that you were too ashamed to continue talking.
Miguel sat with you in silence. In the silence you could hear the slippery smooth sound of his skin as his tail coiled and shifted beneath the water, mixed with the dripping of water from above. It was terribly tense.
‘Okay. We’ll, wait.’
You were surprised by his blunt dismissal. You were sure that this creature would want to be rid of you, or would complain about your attitude, but, he seemed unphased. At least, he seemed unphased. His face was so hard to read.
‘Would you like me to check your ankle, then?’ he asked, gesturing to the swollen inflamed pound above your foot. You blinked. Wait, he was worried about you?’
‘Y- uh, sure. I’m not sure what you can do for it though.’
Miguel carefully angled his tail and slid forward until his torso was right next to your own, allowing his hands to find your ankle.
‘Mm… I’ll, try not to hurt you’ he murmured. You nodded, and slowly he began to feel over the swelling. You shuddered the moment you felt his hand. God, his hands felt good. Strong, calloused, worn, warm. It was a new feeling to be gripped by something like that.
You realized, then, that the clothes you’d been wearing were gone. They must have been stripped off in the storm? Either way, you were wearing nothing but the one-piece bathing suit you’d been wearing beneath them.
If Miguel had noticed he didn’t say anything. He continued stroking over the soft bump in your ankle with diligent eyes. ‘It doesn’t look like it’s broken’ he muttered to himself. ‘Which is… good.’
To your internal horror, you felt your cheeks growing warm. He was ever, ever so pretty, and so gentle. He didn’t look like he should be this gentle.
His breath hit your shoulder as he worked, and against your better judgement you leaned into it. It felt… nice. For something so cold, so wet, he was so human too. Your body continued to lean in until you realized that you were practically nestled into the crook of his neck.
You looked up, and your eyes met. He glanced down at your face with slightly raised brows.
‘Mm?’
‘Ah—sorry, I’m- I’m tired’ you stammered, forcing yourself up. He didn’t approach you nor rebuff you; he simple chuckled, his lips turned into an adorable half smile. He looked old beyond his years, you thought. 
‘It’s fine. You can rest if you must.’
You felt the heat growing deeper. You coughed with pursed lips and turned to stare at the wall. ‘No, no, I’m fine. I’ll be fine.’
You hadn’t realized how touch starved you were. You hadn’t been treated kindly in far too long, and this one basic gesture was causing you to overflow. He was very, very pretty. Really pretty. It really didn’t help the situation, just how pretty he was. God, it was all you could think about. You just kept letting it go around and around in your mind.
Pretty, pretty, rugged sea beast.
‘Your partner.’
You jumped back into the moment at the sound of his voice. ‘Ah- yeah? What- what about them?’
‘Mm. That’s a very telling response’ he noted. You shuddered as he continued to massage your ankle.
‘I—Sorry, I didn’t mean to be snippy.’
‘That’s not what I meant’ he grunted.
‘Well… Then- can you just, say what you meant then?’ you said. He glanced at you again.
‘I wanted to ask you about it. You sounded distressed.’
‘I… I mean, yeah, I am. You don’t have to worry about that though.’
‘I know I don’t. I just am. They sounded… Cruel, the way you described them’ Miguel noted as he rubbed at your ankle. You gave a sad grunt of a laugh.
‘Mm. Cruel, I guess it- I used to hate when people said that, because it made me… It made me feel stupid, I guess, for downplaying things that they apparently so easily spotted as unfair or bad or toxic.’
‘If they were- controlling you, I fail to see how it was your fault’ he noted. ‘You clearly didn’t like it, but, it sounds like you had no other choice.’
‘Mm. You’re very astute for a fish.’
He snorted a laugh, his lip tilting at the corner. ‘Mm. I’m human too, you know. I understand loneliness. I understand it well.’
‘Are there not many others like you?’ you asked curiously.
His hand squeezed the upper part of your leg to test for tenderness and you shivered. He took note. ‘Not really. The ocean is big, there’s a lot of- empty space. Sometimes we travel in packs but… that is, unusual. We only really gather to mate. I usually drift by myself.’
‘Huh, so uh- I guess you do have, what I assume is quite a bit of experience with love then’ you gently teased.
His tilted smile turned sad. ‘Oh, no. I have been… unsuccessful in love. It’s been a long time since I managed to find a mate. A long, long time. I, more or less stopped bothering.’
‘Y—wait, really? You? How?’
He glanced up and you immediately baulked at how overt you’d been. ‘I mean—I—’
‘Are you, implying I’m attractive?’ he asked. You tried to look away but it was so hard, with those big red eyes and those full, rough lips. You swallowed hard.
‘Ah… I mean, objectively, yes. You’re, a very attractive man’ you said, placing desperate emphasis on the word ‘objective’.
His smile had vanished, seemingly out of shock, but it came back as he observed your awkwardness. He didn’t seem used to smiling. ‘Huh. Well, mil gracias. That’s kind of you to say.’
You smiled and turned to silently sitting, and as he continued his work, he intentionally began to get closer.
Behind his calm expression, Miguel was sweating. He was petrified you’d realize that his brushing of your ankle was just a ploy, an excuse, to remain close to your soft little body.
He couldn’t let you see how his eyes lit up when he saw your face. He couldn’t let you see how warm his cold, scaley body felt in your presence.
He’d seen so many humans in his life, and none sparked such excitement in him. You’d fallen down into his world like an angel from heaven, a gift from Poseidon right into his arms, and even though you’d been barely lucid when he held you above the stormy waves he could have sworn you’d seen him.
Your exhausted body had clung to him as he kept you safe. You’d nestled into his chest, your arms around his neck, and you’d whispered. You’d whispered, ‘thank you’. You’d whispered, ‘beautiful’.
He didn’t know if you remembered that. It seemed that you didn’t. Still, part of him was praying you’d remember.
His eyes drifted from your ankle to the cut of your swimsuit where it clung to your skin. He watched your hips shift, your chest heave as you breathed. He felt that soft, primal thud of his heart, and looked away.
‘When you eventually return to the land, what do you think you’ll do?’ Miguel asked, trying to bury his interest in small talk. His torso was now pressed in at your side with your faces turned in opposite directions.
You sighed. ‘I got no idea. No idea. I guess I’ll have to just… figure it out, right? I’ll have to find a new place, try to- get my stuff back I guess. It’s gonna be exhausting but, what else can I do, yanno? It’s just… Whatever. It’s a part of life. Man, I’m not looking forward to tryna figure out dating again.’
‘Do you think, you’ll begin looking for a new mate quickly?’ Miguel asked. His eye turned a little to try and catch your eye.
‘Mate. Huh. As weird as it sounds… I kind of, want to move on’ you mused. ‘I want the, confirmation that it’s over, that I can move on and proof that there’s better out there.’
You didn’t notice the way Miguel’s tail began to whip in the water. His hands drifted up your leg.
‘That’s understandable. Well, don’t worry about that right now. You may stay with me as long as you wish’ he said.
You chuckled. ‘What, are you suggestin—’
You turned, again, and this time you found yourself nose to nose with Miguel.
That single, simple moment hit you like a wave breaking on shore. It was the sudden realization that you felt something. Something tangible. Something, real.
Yearning. A deep, basal yearning in your loins that were pulsing with your blood, one that seemed to palpitate outside your body. It was as if it was physically coiling around you both, like your joint curiosity was manifesting.
You blinked. Miguel’s eyes darted over your face, almost like he was looking for something. You tried to breathe but it caught in your throat, and immediately his eyes widened. He’d found what he was hoping for, praying for.
‘Are you okay?’ he murmured. You dumbly nodded.
‘A-Ahuh…’
‘You, seem… a little, breathless’ he noted. You couldn’t even respond. For a tense minute you were both silent, nose to nose with your lips barely an inch apart. Neither of you would move.
‘Most… people, wouldn’t let me get this close’ he said after a while. He was testing the waters. ‘Even after saving them.’
‘T… They wouldn’t?’
‘No.’
Your chest heaved and brushed his own giant pecs, briefly giving a taste of skin on skin. The way your eyelids fluttered drew him closer. That throbbing in your loins get harder, stronger. His breathing got faster.
‘I can… move back, if you want’ he asked. That simple question was dripping with a million layers of nuance.
‘N… No, it’s fine’ you replied. He swallowed, and you watched his adams apple jolt. When he spoke again you felt it hit your face.
‘Is it, just, fine?’ he asked. His deep voice had dipped.
Your whole body shuddered.
‘You will have heard rumours, I’m sure’ he said softly. ‘About, dangerous fish men. Otherworldly merpeople, come to the shore to grab innocent people who they drag away for- unsavoury purposes.’
As he spoke you peered around his shoulder, watching the way his tail flicked. It hit you how huge he was in that moment. With his tail he was nearly twice the size of your body. Your eyes rolled back with a soft pant, and the first thing you saw was the fangs glinting behind his parted lips.
‘Those poor people. What they always fail to mention, is that they all come willingly.’ His voice had dipped to a whisper, and it was making you tremble. He could almost smell the need in you.
‘These poor, unwanted people, whose shoulders grow heavy from the weight of the world, they yearn for the sea. It is, weightless. It is, free. Erotic.’
As he spoke your body slid down the slimy rocks into the warm pool, and just as he’d described, you began to float. Your body lost all tension as he helped hold you up beneath the gently lapping water.
‘But it is…. Lonely. The ocean is vast, and it is empty, and it is cold. And some of us… Can’t help but yearn for the warmth of your people. Your, hot blood, your little bodies. The warmth of your, lost, and weary, who would maybe understand us.’
His breath hit your ear, and you felt it in him too. That same loneliness. That same yearning.
‘I have not touched another soul in a long time’ he whispered. ‘I would be… grateful, to relieve myself, with you. I will happily set you free too.’
‘Please.’
You blurted the word without thinking, and despite the desperation in your voice he seemed to sense that. He didn’t move any closer. He held himself about an inch away, with his lips by your ear and his long, slippery body gently wrapped around your own.
‘Do you wish to taste something different?’ he whispered.
‘Yes’ you panted. The tension inside you was growing painful. ‘Yes, yes.’
‘Do you long for the sea?’ he purred.
‘Yes—’
‘Do you long for me?’
His pelvis sank down and began to rub between your legs. You let out an audible moan, one that echoed in the confines of the cave.
‘Y-Yes, please—please, please’ you repeated. The moment you moaned he gave in.
Miguel leaned in and kissed you hard, smothering your lips with his own. You could taste the salt on his rough, warm skin, and when his tongue slipped out you tasted it there too. He was rough but slow, occasionally opening his eyes a crack to see your response.
Your eager little mewls, your touch starved whines, they fed him. He pushed you up against the rocks with a rough growl.
‘Mm—’
His tongue was warm in your mouth as it explored. As you shyly broached his lips with your own tongue, you felt his fangs, sharp and thick and smooth. You whimpered as he moved in deeper with a second groan.
‘Mmm…. Mm, mm—’
His claws began to roam your body. You felt him start at your hips, his fingers squeezing the unfamiliar flesh, before moving up to your waist and then your chest. His thumb hit your nipple and you squeaked, drawing out another groan from him.
You were breathing on each other, hot and heavy, huffing through the nose as you whined and moaned. Never had you been so sought after, never had anything pet you with such ravenous hands.
You melted in his firm grip, giving in to his strength and his power, until something unexpected jolted you back into the moment. Something slippery, long and hard was probing between your legs and up your belly.
Your eyes shot open mid kiss. Sensing your hesitation Miguel pulled back, allowing you to glance down and see what you’d felt.
Two joint phalli, one on top of the other, both the same pale red as his tail decoration, emerging from the same slit in his pelvis. They were smooth, clean, slightly curved with a rounded tip.
You stared at his offering with curious eyes.
‘Ah… o-oh, I—’
‘I’m sorry, I couldn’t- keep them down’ he murmured. He sounded a little embarrassed, a sight so cute on such a gruff man.
‘No. No, it’s okay. It’s okay.’ You darted your eyes from his face to his shafts as you reassured him. He gave a soft nod as he sensed your interest, and slowly you reached out to touch them.
Your first thought was how wet they were. They were slippery, already dripping with something thick and viscose, almost like Vaseline.
It was oily in your hand as you tried to fist it back and forth. It twitched as you stroked, which you noted with a soft throb of your own, and you caught his eyes rolling. You squeaked when he abrupted bucked into your hand, forcing that thick, slippery cock to slide through your fingers and back again.
‘Ah… sorry, it- I haven’t been stimulated in so long’ he groaned.
‘I-It’s okay, you’re all good’ you said. You gingerly gave him a few more strokes, using both hands to rub both shafts. You watched his tail thrash in response, his back arching and rolling to rock them deeper. His gruff little moans were so sweet.
‘Ah- please, m—mm- may I have you?’ he pleaded.
You faltered only for a moment. It wasn't usually like you to be this impulsive, but you wanted this. You wanted him. You wanted freedom.
You nodded and slowly slipped down, presenting your body to him to guide. He took it.
You lay back and let him strip your swimsuit aside. You felt his fingers as they slipped beneath the wet fabric, as they brushed your skin for the first time. You felt them ghosting over your inner thigh, just barely stroking your pussy lips as he pushed the suit to the side.
You tensed and gasped; it was enough to give you goosebumps. He spread you wide without shame.
You watched Miguel’s eyes roaming. He notes the hairs on your arms standing up, the feel of raised skin as he stroked them, the sight of your chest heaving as your breath came a little faster. He could see your nipples harden beneath the suit.
Most of all, though, he stared at your perfectly framed cunt beneath the shifting water. He used his thumb to curiously spread you, noting the folds beading with slick.
Beneath the water his joint phalli twitched in unison. You hadn’t noticed, but his eyes had begun to glow a bright neon red. He wanted to plunder whatever sweet pearl was inside.
‘You will… need to be, careful’ he panted. You stayed still as he grabbed your ankles, tenderly pushing them in until your knees folded and your back bent, creating a perfect mating press. You shuddered as his smooth body settled in on top of you. You felt his cock poking at your naked pussy for the first time.
‘I will have to… manoeuvre them, a little, so I don’t try to penetrate you with both. That would be- painful. I will use one to stimulate you instead, is that… okay?’
‘Yeah. Y-Yeah, that’s okay.’
‘Good. Okay… Just hold onto me’ he purred. His hand tenderly slid down and around to cup your lower back while the other gripped the rock by your head for support. You felt his thumb stroking your spine. So soft, yet so rough.
You dug your nails into his back, and you let him slip in.
His cock went in smoothly, with little to no resistance, but that didn’t change how much space it took up. They were both huge.
It slid up like a snake, guided by that strange, slippery lubricant coating the silky skin, until it could go no further. You were now fully penetrated, your belly bulging and your clit smeared by his second little twitching shaft. You squirmed a little to adjust.
Fuck, it ached. It felt good, but it was really splitting you in half. You’d never been stretched like this, ever, not even close.
‘F-Fuck- ah, that’s, big—’ you winced.
‘That- that’s it… I’ve got you… You're mine now’ Miguel groaned. 
Fuck, you here his, and you were tight. Your skin felt good on his scales. Soft, malleable flesh, a cute squeezable body, perfectly impaled. He flexed and twitched his cock to feel it nuzzle your insides, imprinting it with little smears of precum. He wanted to remember this. He wanted to stamp the feeling of your cunt muscles clenching and quivering around him on the inside of his brain.
Bit by bit, he began to move.
‘A-Ah—’
In the water you could feel his skin as it slid across you, moist and slick like wet silk, moving with a dexterity and flexibility that no human could have. It made you shudder. Your brain knew that it felt wrong, but the pleasurable tightness in your gut told you that you didn’t care.
You dug your nails into his back and relied on his own huge hands to keep you steady.
‘Uhn—uhn— uhn—’
His soft grunts echoed above you as he nestled into your neck.
‘That’s it… That’s it. Ah- you are, so, soft…’
Your legs shook a little as he drew back and forth, his two long shafts shifting in tandem. You felt the longer rod easily filling you before slipping out.
Bit by bit the initial ache in your core started to subside. You began to relax. The pain numbed into a soft, smooth, pleasurable motion, and you began to moan.
You lost track of time in that private space, as you indulged your most perverse needs. You were lulled by pleasure. The slow rhythm of his pulsing, the gentle stimulating rubbing on your clit, the wetness and the warmth, it was like a dream.
You wanted this. You wanted to be wanted. In that moment, as he nestled your cheek and whined for more, whispering how good you felt in your ear, you forgot your asshole ex. You forgot everyone.
Part of you would have liked to be caught. You quivered at the thought. To be found like this, utterly impaled by this beautiful ethereal creature. It excited you.
You only noticed that any time had even passed when a salty wave hit your cheek. Wait, was the water, rising?
You didn’t get a chance to think about it. You were lost in the moment, your head dizzy from the sensations overstimulating every single one of your senses. The cave echoed with the slapping of water, the rhythmic pounding of flesh as he fucked you. His grunts were rough, tinged with some deep inhuman clicking sound that was almost like purring.
The sound of your taboo little fling filled the cave until you drowned in it.
The water kept rising. It was breaking, lapping, streaming in to lap over your conjoined bodies. It almost seemed to be mimicking Miguel’s own feelings; the peaking, the brewing tension in his gut as he wallowed in pleasure.
He started to get faster.
‘Miguel--!’
You tried to cry out but he fucked the words from your mouth. His claws raked your skin as his abdomen thrashed and humped you into submission.
‘Uhn- uhn- uhn—uhn- uhn-' 
‘Mi—a-ah—mi—Mig—’
Wave after wave swept in, until eventually, you were covered.
With a sudden gasp you went under.
In the frantic thralls of mating Miguel didn’t seem to notice. You watched bubbles rise to the surface as you gasped and moaned, sounds that were utterly muffled by the deep. A pressure covered your mouth and nose until you were utterly unable to breath, a pressure that matched the pressure on your insides. You could focus on nothing now but that wet slap, the pounding of flesh going in and out of your guts, the passionate thrashing of his tail as he fucked you raw.
It was too much. Right as you started to get lightheaded, you orgasmed, your whole body spasming and straining around his cocks.
The feel of you clenching thankfully managed to snap him from his trance. Miguel drew his head from your neck to find your eyes rolling backward, and in a panic he lent forward and kissed you. His lips were full and smooth, easily drawing back and forth against your own, and as his tongue snaked down into your throat you felt the last cusp of your conscious mind pleading for more.
But then you gasped, and you were not met with a mouthful of sea water this time. Miguel withdrew his lips from yours and with it he blew a small air bubble across your mouth, allowing you to breathe.
You realized that water had filled the cave so high that you were both now suspended, your body clasped in his hands to stop it drifting away. You could see all of him. His long tail snaking, his thick fleshy shafts between your spread legs, his broad beautiful human torso above you. You saw it all.
You panted hard as your eyes met. You were still impaled on his cock, with his strong arms and muscular tail holding you beneath the water. He panted back, bubbles flying from his lips. As soon as he confirmed that you were, in fact, breathing, he grunted, and to your surprise pulled himself out.
You watched the bulge in your belly slip out as his cock exited your hole.
For a moment you were distraught, sure that you’d done something wrong, but it was only for a moment. He immediately pulled you close and entered you again, though this time he entered you twice. One cock slipped its oily girth into your cunt while the other slid up into your anus, filling you to absolute completion.
He groaned, hard, and immediately started to rut you again. He wouldn’t allow you to be hurt, but by god, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He was on the cusp of euphoria.
‘A-Ah—fuck--!’
Your moans were no longer muffled as he started to fuck you again. Your screams just kept him going. The sweet siren call of your own pleasure, your own need. It drove him to seek it, drove him to arch his tail and buck his hips for more.
He grabbed your wrist with one of his hands and pulled you in close, smoothly wrapping himself around you until you were bound by his body. It looked almost sweet, like you were ballroom dancing, but it was anything but.
He was using every muscle he had to push against your weightless state, working against gravity to fuck you all the same. You clung to him as he squeezed the life back into you.
‘Ah… Miguel—!’
His entire, massive slender form was thrashing and humping to get deeper, closer, harder, almost crushing you in response. You just kept begging, screaming.
His tail whipped ferociously. His grunts were forming bubbles in the deep, little manifestations of his primal urge. He thrust, and he thrust, and he thrust, and he ravaged your creamy little cunt with each one. He forced your legs a little further apart with his slippery body. He pushed in deeper.
And then, with a guttural, wordless groan, he climaxed.
You let him cum inside you. You let those long, slippery shafts pulse and pump, creaming you into a whimpering mess, stuffing you up until it was all you could feel. The warmth, the grip, his body and flesh merged with your own. You took all he had to offer between your legs.
‘A-ah… ah….’
In the comedown you found yourself floating. The cave was completely filled with water, something that seemed impossible.
Miguel grunted and gently swam you both to the surface, to a tiny pocket of air left at the top of the cave. As you surfaced your little air bubble popped and you gasped. There you stayed, floating weightless in his arms as he held you to his chest, allowing you to relax. You were sore, and bruised, but it was so, so worth it.
‘Are—are you okay?’
Miguel’s voice jolted you from a sleep you hadn’t even noticed yourself falling into. ‘Y… Yeah, ah—very, very good’ you panted.
He let your head fall back so you could meet his gaze, but he kept his shafts inside you, and he kept his arms and tail around you too. He kept you close.
‘Come with me.’
His eyes were eerie in the dark water. They glowed so brightly, like an anglerfish’s lure, a deep and passionate red that danced across your skin.
‘Let me take you deeper’ he whispered. ‘Let me- adore you.’
‘C…. C-Can I, do that?’ you stammered.
His eyes were so soft in the dark. He leaned in and kissed the corner of your lips.
‘If you wish it’ he whispered again. ‘You can leave your life behind. I’ll take you away. I’ll take you somewhere beautiful, somewhere quiet and calm, somewhere they won’t bother you anymore. A world untouched by any man.’
‘I… what if I change my mind?’
Miguel blinked. Did he look, hurt? It was hard to say. He raised his dripping hand to his lips and blew another bubble, which he tenderly held out to your face.
‘It’s an offer to come with me. To be free. I offer you my breath, that’s all. But you can have the rest, too. You can have the rest of me, if you let me have you.’
Your heart skipped a beat beneath his glowering gaze. To your surprise, it was an easy answer.
‘Yes.’
Miguel purred. He popped the little air bubble and instead kissed your lips, creating a new one over your mouth as he simultaneously sank you back into the depths.
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roguenancy · 6 months
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Thinking about Steve and his reaction in moments of crisis when it comes to other people vs. his reaction in moments of crisis when it comes to Robin. In S1, he finds Nancy at the Byers's with a bandaged hand and, in his moment of worry for her, pushes the door open and barges in while asking if she's okay as he searches for answers for what happened. Or later, when, despite his own fear and worry, he rushes back inside to save Jonathan who is pinned underneath the demogorgon. It was arguably one of the scariest moments of his boring little high school kid life, and he still managed to take charge, do what he needed to, and help save the day.
We see these same instances again in S2. Steve was obviously worried about the safety of Max and Lucas and did not think twice about stepping up to bat against Billy. But when faced with the horrifying reality of what was about to unfold when Billy threw the first punch, and the sheer fact that he was the sole adult "in charge" of looking after keeping these kids safe, he had every reason to panic. To fold under the pressure and second guess himself. Yet he didn't. Not for a moment did he hesitate. Instead, he charged right back in there just like he did all those times before and did what he knew needed to be done. The same thing is seen later in the tunnels when Mike gets caught by the vines and can't get up. There's no hesitation from Steve. No moment of panic. Even though he's injured and unwell, even though he's once again in charge of keeping a group of hazardous and all too impulsive pre-teens safe, even though said pre-teens have drug him into an alternate dimension labyrinth from hell— he does not blink. Instead, he races in, takes out his bat, and gets to work on setting Mike free because that's just the kind of guy he is.
Yet with Robin... he doesn't do that.
When they're in the upside down!Creel House in S4 and Robin gets caught by the vines and thrown against the wall, she cries out for Steve but Steve doesn't respond because he's absolutely frozen in place. He's not saying anything. He's not moving. He's got an axe on him but he's not using it. He's not doing anything because he has completely shut down with fear, with panic, with this horrible realization suddenly screaming in his face that his best friend is in danger and in a matter of seconds, something very bad could happen and he could lose her forever.
And it's so unlike him. Steve from all those instances from before would have immediately started swinging that axe to free her. He would've been telling her to stay calm, that it's going to be okay, he'll get her free. He would have done whatever he needed to do simply because he felt it was his job to do it. But this time, he only seems to snap back to himself and get into gear long after Nancy has already gotten to work and she and Robin are screaming.
And it's all simply because it's Robin.
Because it's Robin and she is the best friend he's ever had. The only best friend he's ever had. Because she is Robin and she means the world to him and he probably loves her far more than he's ever loved anything or anyone before and it's terrifying.
He just got her, and yet she's his world, and he can't lose her because at this point, losing her would surely be like losing a part of himself and that fear... it's unlike anything he's ever experienced before and he hates it.
So he sits there, unmoving and shocked, doing nothing because the only thing worse than doing nothing to save her is trying everything to save her and that still not being enough. He holds the axe but doesn't swing because he's caught underneath the sudden crushing weight of just what she means to him and the suffocating panic of what losing her could be like. It's something that no monster he's fought, no high school asshole, no trouble the kids got into, no failing romance could ever have prepared him for.
But now Steve knows what real fear feels like.
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groguspicklejar · 9 months
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick really soft headcannons that nobody asked for
because despite me reblogging endless amounts of Simon and Johnny fics, that helicopter scene solidified me as a lowkey raging Gaz girly, let's go also, thank you to @sofasoap for hauling me into this fandom :)
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you cannot tell me that this man doesn't absolutely love it when you're doing your nightly routine
watching you do your skincare in the bathroom makes him thankful for the gruesome work that he does
because seeing you like that, watching how safe you feel, how relaxed you are without having to worry about a war or blood or guns
it makes him glad that he's done the work to put down the most despicable people out there.
so Gaz, sweet baby Kyle, would hug you from behind, kiss your cheek and tell you how pretty you are.
"You're just saying that..." you giggle, blushing as he plants more kisses behind your ear and on your neck.
"because it's true." he hums, "most beautiful woman in the world."
You shiver when his lips gently suck on your skin, and you're just all giggly because he's just so soft with his affection. "Kyle, baby, you're distracting me."
He merely smiles and takes the bottle of serum in your hand. "fine. then let me help you."
you cannot tell me that he hasn't memorized your skincare routine.
you just can't.
you also can't tell me that he hasn't developed a routine of his own when he's off duty because how else would he look so damn fine
seriously, Kyle gives off the vibe that he has a good sense of fashion and wears the type of cologne that turns heads when he's walking down the street.
so he helps massage the nice scented moisturiser on your face and pecks your lips when he's done.
but then you kiss him again and he kisses you back
and next thing you know, you're both making out and he's got you placed on top of the bathroom sink
you may or may not be walking away on shaky legs and an orgasm or two once he's done with you but I digress.
and then he's watching you putting on those silk pj's or dress to get in bed beside him
he loves those ones so much because you make them look so elegant when you move around in them.
In other news, once Kyle comes home from a long mission, you make it your mission to help him relax.
your home is his safe zone.
which means that it's quiet, but not too quiet that his own thoughts become too loud and take over his peace of mind.
you've got your speaker playing calming sounds; either nature, rain, ocean waves or soft music to help him get to his happy place.
Kyle doesn't like to watch action movies.
He sees too much action in his lifetime and he doesn't want that following him to his safe zone.
so some evenings consist of you and him cuddling on the couch, watching romcoms and romance movies.
and period dramas.
don't tell anyone but he cried like the rest of us while watching that scene Queen Charlotte
because he can somewhat relate to King George.
there are some days when the things he has done on the battlefield catch up to him
when he feels like a complete mess of a monster, when the blood in his hands just won't come off and when the guns are too loud
and he just doesn't want to taint you with that
all of the boys feel that way with their s/o
but unlike King George, he will let you know when he either needs some space or he needs you to ground him so he doesn't slip into the abyss because communication is key.
also would like to add that Kyle loves the sound of your laugh.
doesn't matter if you sound like a dying seagull, a leaking gas pipe or if you laugh like a princess, he simply adores your joy.
your joy makes him happy and when he's happy, he functions better as a human being.
and while he may not be the funniest man on the planet, while he may not be cracking jokes the way Soap does, he will find a way to get a good laugh from you in his own way.
either from tickling you mid-cuddles or chucking out a few comments as you're both watching a period movie, it will make you laugh and he will be fulfilled.
take for example, you made him watch Pride And Prejudice.
"Lizzie was too soft on him. I would smack him in the face."
he feels your body shaking next to him and your giggles muffled by a pillow and he's all smiles.
more often than not, when he goes to the mall or into town (because you live in a secluded area), he would come back with takeaway from a restaurant, even though you said you weren't hungry.
and he makes sure to get whatever you may need at the grocery store while he was at it.
the best part of his days off work is when he's in bed with you.
when he feels your heartbeat in his hands as you're on top of him.
when he listens to your breaths.
when he smells the scent of your shampoo.
when he feels the soft skin as he caresses your cheeks, the warmth of them
all of these little things reminding him that you are alive, that you're safe with him.
that is what he fights for.
that is what he lives for.
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phoenixyfriend · 8 months
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Hey have a fun AU I came up with the other day after reading a bunch of fics with related tropes
It's a raised Sith AU. Anakin was found by Sidious well before he was found by Qui-Gon. He was raised by the Sith, is a classically horrible monster stalking about TCW to be Vader (mask and all, just as an intimidation factor instead of life support) while Ventress and Grievous and Dooku do their own things in a different section of the war. He's got a Really Fucking Weird dynamic with Obi-Wan, mostly attempting to kill him etc.
At some point, Palpatine allows Anakin and Padme to meet. The romance that blooms is one that Sheev decides is useful to him, so he lets it happen.*
Padme gets pregnant. Sidious arranges for her death. Anakin loses his entire shit and tries to kill Sidious. Obi-Wan is off trying to save Padme, unaware of Anakin getting his remaining limbs cut off by his this-universe Master. (This is important, because Anakin does remember Obi-Wan trying to save Padme.)
So we have Anakin, who was raised Sith, and just lost the only things that have mattered to him since his mom died when he was a kid, and Palpatine has pushed him further into the Dark than he ever has. Anakin… knows more about the Sith Secrets in this universe.
Anakin finds a Sithly Time Machine. Maybe on Malachor. There's an owl? Whatever.
Anakin, someone who's been Vader for the vast majority of his life, wakes up at age nine. Maybe even younger, like six. His mother is already dead at Sidious's hands. He's already roommates with Maul. He's already being trained as a baby Sith.
Anakin, being a 20 year old war veteran, is much better at escaping than Sidious has planned for. He reprograms a medical droid to take out his slave chip, steals a ship, etc. All the stuff that Maul wasn't very good at, and Anakin was too young for, so Sidious didn't have the preventative measures in place for yet.
Anakin heads for the one place and person he thinks he can trust: Obi-Wan Kenobi.
(Obi-Wan is still a padawan. But this Baby Sith just declared him Adoptive Teen Dad, so.)
@lizasweetling (all indented bits from here will be hers):
Because Sith. Bad for mental health of the user and generally bad for their environs But also baby. And if hes dragging Maul around no doubt the dude is constantly himself confused why he is here Like yeah, Sidious sucked, and this 6-9yo is way powerful and knowledgeable on the dark side (?????) But why are we going to the Jedi? And not even trying to kill them apparently?????
Anakin is very much being affected by Baby Brain and Baby Endocrine System. He cries a lot more than he should.
I WASN'T THINKING OF HIM BRINGING MAUL BUT YEAH. THAT'S. THAT'S A POSSIBILITY.
Jedi Council trying to decide if this is more "Adult Sith got shrunk" or "child got evil man's memories." Vader wants to know why it even MATTERS. (He didn't actually plan on telling them, but he has very little self control right now.)
The first Good Act he does is tell them where to find Ventress and Ky. (In the originally timeline, he viewed Ventress as like. Cool older cousin.)
Vader's right, that distinction does not matter Aaaw, she deserves that, that's nice Maybe she will be like 20% less homocidally traumatized
Anakin is furious when Maul and Obi-Wan pick him up under one arm like a package. He is a GROWN MAN he is an ADULT he was a SITH LORD and about to be a FATHER, he is TOO OLD FOR THIS.
They point out that he is Baby.
😂 sorry lord of evil, you're too baby, have a nap and maybe your feel better. Assuming the crisis on Naboo is still happening, and as such the vote of no confidence is right now, it might be a great time to report Sidious as a Sith lord. Post-escape from Sidious, both he and Maul definitely will need a nap. It's that kinda place.
Oh, it's probably at least a year before. Anakin keeps trying to sneak off to kill the man himself, but the Jedi are more ready for his Sneaking than Mustafar was, so he keeps getting caught before he can reach the Senate.
At one point he tries to just CHARGE the place and you get Mace and Obi-Wan sprinting after him. The News captures videos of this very small child getting chased by an older Padawan and a Master and they are mostly yelling for him to PUT DOWN THE SABER.
(Sidious might see him but what's he going to do? Might cause too many problems for Sidious to be aware of Anakin's presence with the Jedi, though. Best not.)
It's probably more expensive on average to hire an assassin on a child, just in general But on a jedi youngling??? If he can even find someone to do that, it will be so very, ridiculously expensive And likely 70%+ upfront payments
Ahsoka definitely seeks him out. Toddler baby child. She adores him for reasons unclear to anyone and everyone.
!!! Baby has baby!! Vader's probably a little thrown by this. Been a while subjectively since someone just loved him. And not even for like, a reason. Baby Vader coerced into sitting obediently for nap by tired kiddo: [The council liked that]
The number of times that vader could only be convinced to nap by Obi-Wan grabbing him, caging him in his own lap, and forced to Sit Quietly until he just fell asleep like that...
He has things to do, he's not tired 😡😡😡💢 (He's 9. Distances are between 150 and 195% longer when measured with steps, he's hungry (subjectively) all the time, and has only middling coordination He so is too tired)
Anakin doesn't know Qui-Gon at all but he keeps getting stuffed into the man's top because he's just. Small enough to fit.
Like the bomb boobs gif, but it's a small child.
the indignity
You just. You can't let him get too self-important.
Vader is Disgusted every time the pediatric healers try to talk down to him like they do to other 6yos.
The difference between this and other "Vader goes back in time to the Jedi" AUs (like Force of Many Sights) is that this Vader has never been a Jedi, and doesn't know anything about them except how they fight when he's trying to kill their friends.
Also Maul's there.
Because even he has a hard time taking himself seriously when hes so easy to manhandle Rest of the time; I am fear, I am death personified As luggage child: I am so small. The tiniest. I crave violence He's probably very annoyed they keep taking away his saber And hey! Obi gets practice not losing his! Woooo!
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Something something Anakin clinging to Maul's back (piggy back ride) and chewing on his head or something stupid like that. Perfect height for head biting.
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You know, the classic anime head bite
Maul probably has been nominally talked into this because this 9yo is a powerful darksider But he is also the world's most annoying tiny kid Maul would've thought his phenotype would make him immune to this ridiculousness He was wrong At least the teeth are a bit less pointy than his other little brothers'? Appreciating the little things
tfw your unwanted little brother drags you to what you think is a cult but actually they're way less culty than your last two places so you just stick around to keep an eye on the little shit
Anyway. ObiMaul for this one.
They're peers They're tired They just want to sit down and not have to chase this weird little murder child They have a lot in common 😊
They are all just a little bit stupid, I love them.
Qui-Gon is a Cool Mom (throws condoms at them and books it).
Yeah, that's about as much involvement as would be appreciated They probably did a lot of sparring before the tension broke Which did not relieve said tension, generally made it worse (Competence, athleticism, sweat-) Vader is confused, but probably doesn't mind He's probably glad they're distracting each other from stopping assassinating a certain someone (Which- that is 9yo hubris. He would need help to do that)
I still can't decide where on 6yo-9yo he falls but somewhere in there
Babies means easier hiding in shirt, teenie Ahsoka, and longer for him to convince the Jedi council to do a Sith hunt before the Naboo situation
Also longer for Maul and Obi-Wan to faff about being all Tension
* Vaguely inspired by the backstory of Rulebreaker/Wildheart, which is great but significantly more of a romance fic than this.
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maleyanderecafe · 8 months
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Mushroom Oasis (Visual Novel)
Created by: DeersphereStudios
Genre: Romance/Horror
Mushroom Oasis is very cute, and I love Mychael's design a love (I'm a huge sucker for good monster design). @deerspherestudios always seems to make pretty nice games with cute characters and it was really nice to be able to hang out with Mychael! The artwork in it is also very pretty and cozy, much like Mychael himself.
The story starts out with the MC losing their cat, and has become worried about their disappearance. After being unable to look for them, they desperately look into the forest near their house. After wandering for a very long time, they end up stepping in a fairy circle, where they pass out due to the spores after finding their cat's collar.
Waking up in a cabin, they are tended by someone with messy hair. The two of them talk for a while, with the guy revealing himself to be named Mychael. The MC finds Mychael's appearance to be a little bit odd given the horns, his green skin and his pointed ears. The MC tries to ask Mychael where their cat is, showing them a picture of her, but Mycheal doesn't seem to know. Mychael seems touched that the MC is willing to go out of their way to find their cat, and is happy to make conversation with him. While the MC tries to go home, Mycheal seems to convince them using his spores that they should stay. Mycheal brings the MC to the kitchen and offers them food.
If the MC refuses and leaves, Mycheal will reluctantly let them, but as they walk, they end up falling to the forest's influence, passing out. The end is Mycheal walking sadly to see the body of the MC taken by the mushrooms in the ground next to their cat.
If they agree, Mycheal will cook them something and the MC eats it eagerly. The two talk about why Mycheal lives in the woods until the MC accidentally drops their mug on the floor... which Mycheal catches with his tail, later revealing his four eyes. This can lead the MC to either freak out or stay calm.
If the MC decides to calm down, Mycheal will become bashful hiding behind his plate, telling the MC that he'd be willing to hide his eyes if they'd prefer. The MC drinks the tea, and reassures Mycheal about his appearance. Mycheal insists on having the MC stay for the night.
If the MC freaks out, they will try to escape. Mycheal tries to get them to calm down. They can either attempt to take the sewing needles as a defense or leave them.
Leaving them will cause Mycheal to grab the MC forcefully and use his spores to brainwash them into calming down. He cries a bit, sad that he won't be able to love the "real" MC but is willing to play along with the sedated and brainwashed version of them. The MC is then brainwashed into believing that they've been with Mycheal all of their life as Mycheal plays along with this state.
Taking the needles will cause Mycheal to release spores to get the MC to calm down, however, if the MC does attack him, the needles are stabbed into his heart causing him to fall down bleeding. As Mycheal dies on the floor, he talks about how happy he was that the MC was there with him before dying. The MC feels regret.
I gotta say that this artwork is way, WAY too pretty, from the backgrounds to the characters, it's just really cozy and it's great. I love Mychael's design since I love looking at unique monster designs and it's pretty cool seeing a mushroom based monster character. His four eyes are just so expressive, and he has cute expressions. The creator really has to pull on the heartstrings on the ending where he dies though, don't they.
As a yandere, Mychael is pretty interesting because he is pretty much doing the right thing in forcing the MC to stay with him. As we see in the bad endings, if the MC does end up leaving Mychael's cabin, then they end up being taken by the forest much like their cat, so subduing the MC using his spores is probably the best he can do to make sure that they don't leave, even if it's likely out of selfishness as well since he is pretty lonely. The spores do raise up the question of how powerful his mind control is, as we see that sometimes the MC can break out of it, while in others, such as the ending where the MC is braindead, they can pretty much completely erase their memory. It might come down to how much is released in the air or even what kinds are released. It's possible it might come from his eyes as well, since they turn into a sort of pink hypnotic state. Mind control in yandere stories is an interesting topic to get into since it goes into the idea of if the yandere is okay with an MC that doesn't really have a free will anymore and the amount of angst if they do ever snap out of it. Mychael is a curious creature since I'm not sure we know where he came from or if he's the only one of his kind. My theory is that he's some sort of mutation with the forest (since he's able to sort of tell when the forest "takes" someone and is unaffected by it or at least knows how to avoid it) and possibly was chased out by humans at some point as well (thus his complex about his appearance) so he's forced into isolation. Or I'm completely wrong since there can be a lot of reasons why he isolates himself so much. Also, his blushing sprite? Adorable, I love it.
Overall, a pretty cute demo. I like how it's introduced with the MC running after their cat which I feel is pretty different from how other VNs I've played initially introduce their MC. I'm curious to see how Mycheal will develop as a yandere as the story goes on.
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Jun the Naga and Zengo the Male Kitsune fighting over who deserves attention and affection when the answer is obviously right there 🙄🙄
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Hi love your writing I wanted to request that uhm.. gosh how do I explain this
So in season 1 reader and cha Hyun soo were friends , she somehow gets along with his monster side often chatting with him. So reader notices signs of becoming a monster and decides to burn herself (you know for the greater good).
She leaves a letter addressed to Hyun soo and also his monster side about how much she loves them and she's sorry for being a coward (or you can change it that she makes a video addressed to the both of them )
Fast forward to season 2 let's say ah yi and Hyun soo are getting attacked by monsters and Hyun is low key losing and is about to get punched by one of the monsters until the monster catches on fire
Revealing reader who is alive so yeah that's the request
Omg I love this 💕
Cha Hyun su x Fem!Reader
Regular : Hyun su , Reader
Bold : Purple , Readers Monster
Bold : Regular, Hyun su monster
Genre: angst , romance
Warning ⚠️ : death , suicide , strong language
Small summary: It’s been while since you became close with Hyun su , even having your moments with his monster side , slowly growing a crush for both Hyun su and his monster with in him .. while Hyun su was upstairs getting supplies for the survivors of Green Home as your nose starts to bleed while your in the bathroom.. but it wasn’t the first time either
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It’s been about 4 months since the apocalypse started, during those few months you started to become close to everyone that remained alive in Green Home
More so Hyun su, you both met when everything first started since you happen to live a door down from his apartment , you ran into him while you were heading down stairs to the small convenience/grocery store to get a few items you needed to finish your dinner
Steeping out of your apartment as your shoes crunched against something causing you to look down as you saw a trail of ramen noodles scattered all across the floor leading toward the apartment next door , slowly following the trail as you stopped in you tracks seeing that the person from the apartment over also came out , squinting your eyes as you analyze the boy since you never s em him before before you heard a noise from the apartment you were now in front of both tuning to see what the noise was you see a weird , deformed arm snatched what seemed to be a cats head as blood was all over the floor
After that you and Hyun su just seemed to grow closer , there was times were you would even chat with the monster inside him as he seemed like a cool person in your eyes .. just a bit misunderstood
Letting out a sigh as you shake the thoughts out of your head , looking into the mirror as your body freezes, eyes becoming wide as you stare at your reflection… your nose was bleeding a unnatural amount of blood as you start to slightly panic , quickly turning on the warm water front he sink using your head to quickly wipe away the blood before any one came in the bathroom
After 15 minutes of cleaning your car you slowly turn off the water as you stare at your reflection, body becoming numb as you notice your eyes becomes completely black as you start to hear a voice playing in your head causing your to shiver
‘You know .. you can those me for ever Reader’
‘Shut the fuck up’ you slightly cry out trying to ignore whatever she had to say to you
‘ Do you really think he’ll love you..’ the voice in your head says as it taunts you with amused laced in its voice
‘I mean .. who would ever love someone that couldn’t even protect their younger siblings from their crazies parents’ the voice continues to taunt you as you let out silent cries , covering your mouth with one hand as you stare at your reflection, a second version of you now appears beside you , wide smile on her face as her black eyes stares into your brown one through the reflection
‘Or that you watched as your younger siblings were tortured to in front of you , how your parents sold you off to a stranger, but you decided to leave which causes the death of you pore brother and sister’
“Shut up” you cry out , soon coming to your senses as you feel a touch to your shoulder causing you to jump as you let out a soft gasp
Turing to see that it was Eun-yu , checking to see if you were okay , giving her quick nod yes as you quickly wipe away your tears heading out of the bathroom ignoring as Eun-yu called after you
Quickly heading for your back pack that was left on your stepping mat as you unzip it open taking out your sketch book along with your pencil that you decided to bring down with you , taking a sit on your mat as you quietly start to think to your self letting out a soft sigh as your head start to move along the paper
Making a small sign that read ‘Play Me’ as you place the letter down on your bed , picking up your phone as your powered it on , sighing with happiness as the screen came to life , quickly unlocking your phone , making sure to take the lock off for anyone who came across your phone
Heading for the camera icon on your phone as you press for the rescued screen easing your phone enough that your face is shown as you fix your hair to your best ability before the video started to play recording anything from this point
“H-Hi Hyun su.. umm, I don’t know where to start exactly” you say as you look at your lap for a few seconds before looking back at the camera showing biting your lip a bit out of nervousness
“ well let’s start off by saying I really enjoyed our time together.. you made me happy and I haven’t felt happy in a long time” you say with a slight smile still looking into the camera as you start to speak again
“ And some where during that time I started to like not only you but the other side of you to.. and it hurts me to keep this from you..” you say as tears start to form in your eyes quickly using your free hand to wipe the tears away
“ but I’m turning.. and I been for a while now , I just didn’t know how to tell you , I’m afraid that if I turn I’ll hurt the people I started to care so much for.. so it best if I just end it here, I don’t want to live with the fear of hurting anyone .. especially you, my biggest fear is to turn into a monster that lost their memory, I rather die with them .. you know” you say with a small smile as you look into the camera
“I’ll forever love you both Hyun su..” you say smile still on your face as tears fall down your face , ending the video as you place the phone on top of the note , you knew he would find it , since he always came to you after finishing a mission
Standing to your feet as you head for the small fire place that was made it the sleeping area , seeing that you were the only one in the area , as you take a sit a few centimeters away from the fire , eyes watching as the fire makes popping and sparking sounds
‘It’s for the best’ you thought , hand slowly raising as you become in a trance arm slowly reaches close to the fire as the flames slowly starts to connect to your skin burning your clothes in the process as wi thin a few seconds your body becomes covered in flames as you fall back letting out a plain full scream felling as your life starts to slowly sift away , not hearing the bloody screams of horro that now filled the room as the taming survivors stare at you in horror , as Eun-Yu and Ji- soo rushes to you quickly throwing a blanket over you as they try their best to put out the fire … but it was to late … you were already gone as the room now feel silent
Eun-yu slowly raising to her feet as she stares at your cover formed in horror , tears following down her face as Ji-soo slowly removes the burned blanket.. only to see your burned up body , as your mouth was still open from the painful screams , eyes string at the door frame as every one starts to get goosebumps
After a while they buried your body , Hyun su soon coming down not to long after screaching for your missing figure as you always met him at the door .. heading for your rock as he stops in his tracks .. seeing a note on your bed with your phone on top as he looks at it with curiosity
Slowly heading for your bed as he carefully sits down his spear , taking a seat on your bed eyes not leave your phone or the note once as he notices it say ‘play me’ , slowly reaching for the phone as he hesitantly opens the phone seeing it was left on a video that was made 30 minutes ago , slowly pressing play as his eyes starts to build with tears as the video shortly comes to a end , Eun - yu standing in the door frame eyes still filled with tears
“She killed her self while you were gone… she knew” Eun - Yu says as she leaves the room shortly after leaving a broken Hyun su
It’s been a year now since Hyun su last say you as his heart still brakes at the thought , sitting on a near by vehicle only a couple feet away as he watches Ah-yi , who plays with her small monster friend that she made a while ago
She was 14 years old now and Hyun su could remember how small she was not to long ago , she was like a daughter to him and since Readers death she was the only thing that he had left and he did anything he could to protect her
Although there was times were he felt like he was being watched , even his monster side started to notice but could never figure out who or what it was , when ever they tried to find the person or thing it seemed to leave in a block of an eye with Hyun su not being able to get not even a glance at the figure .. but he knew he was being watched
As he continued to watch Ah-yo he started to get a weird feeling , like there was something bad going to happen , shaking his head at the thought thinking he was just overreacting
Sliding off the vehicle as he standing to his feet as he slowly walks towards Ah-yo and he friend , but before he could get any closer he heard guns shoots soon following by multiple voices
Freezing in his spot as he soon realizes what was going on as he feels the monster with in his start to take control quickly running for Ah-you , picking her up in a swift motion as the guns shoots follow after Hyun su , keeping a tight hold of Ah-yi as he dodges every bullet his way , making sure her friend was keeping up the pace as he make a quick turn coming to a blocked off road full of sink holes
Putting Ah-yi down as he pushes he behind him along with her small friend , as he arm quickly turns into a wing , hitting the closet two men in front of him as he notices they aren’t soldiers but survivors
“Stay back , I wouldn’t hesitate to kill you” Hyu su says eyes staring at each of the fifteen men , voice laces with venom was he holds a cold expression
As one of the men let’s put a loud laugh as he signaling the men to attack but before they could get any closer or Hyun su could attack , a burst of flames that seemed to come from the ground as the the men set ablaze letting out blood cradling screams
Dropping to their knees as Hyun su’s blue eyes watches them out of confusion and curiosity, eyes slowly poking up as he noticed a figure slowly walking towards him , eyes being wide as the figure walks through the men the were screaming from pain as the flames slowly took their lives
There you stood , short hair that was always cut in a bob now past your shoulders , your hair now held into a bushy ponytail to the back of your head
Eyes examining your figure as he notices your no longing wear a oversized sweater and jeans , you were now in shorts that’s showed off your curves , and a half tank top that showed off your lowered stomach and your huge breast , high thigh boots that had a 3-4 inch heel that stopped mid thigh
Looking towards your face as he sees your lips shining in the sun for the lip gloss you wore , looking into your eyes as he gives off a smile smile , your eyes shined a bright green mixed with your natural brown color
“Your alive” Hyun su says eyes now back to normal as he walks closer towards you quickly pulling your in to a hug giving you a passionate kiss as he slowly pulls away , as Ah-yi watches with adoration wondering if you were the one he talked so much about
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