#i fucked up the shot and got dead on LITERALLY the first zombie

[empresskylo]

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓

ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER

SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...

WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.

The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.

The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water. 

With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go. 

The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep. 

“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained. 

“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves. 

“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”

Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”

“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”

“It’s too–”

You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”

“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly. 

“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”

Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that. 

“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price. 

“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon. 

“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”

He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting. 

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building. 

You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this. 

“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder. 

You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair. 

You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in. 

The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing. 

Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream. 

He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall. 

Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing. 

Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought. 

He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind. 

He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound. 

He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.

You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone. 

Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you. 

You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic. 

Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering. 

But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack. 

A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell. 

His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him. 

Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat. 

Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan. 

You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body. 

You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.

It was Simon.

Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you. 

“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare. 

A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them . 

You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.

He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came. 

Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise. 

You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in. 

Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before. 

You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction. 

The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself. 

Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.

Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory. 

He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support. 

You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time. 

Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin. 

His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time. 

You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful. 

When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life. 

You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well. 

But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.

You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you. 

You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements. 

You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all. 

He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast. 

You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.

Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever? 

You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him. 

#ghost #simon riley #ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod #simon riley smut #ghost cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #fluff #angst #ghost angst #cod mw2 #smut #zombie!ghost #modern zombie #cod zombies

[greyyson-but-no]

come with us

genre | fluff, humour

warnings | blood, arrows,

pairing | c!tommyinnit x reader; platonic!c!wilbur x reader

word count | 1.2K

a/n | didn't think I'd get something out before gcse's started but here we are. won't see you for a few weeks because of gcse's but with my (lack of) dedication to them you might get something...

the zombie fell to the ground as the last of my arrows flew into its dead flesh, finishing the job off. it’s death revealed the two boys standing behind it, brows furrowed at the sight of me, jaws slightly ajar. i simply lifted a hand up to my nose to wipe the blood away on my sleeve, which now had a deep rip in it from the cut of one of their arrows. i hadn’t seen which one had shot it but i’d find out.

one of them was much taller than the other. brown hair and a long beige coat dangling from the lanky figure. he had a number of scars thrashed across his face, a large noticeable one across his cheek and a sword hung against his back, backpack held at his side, probably only with the belongings the two of them had.

the other one was blonde, and much shorter than the other. they didn’t look alike enough to be brothers but i had an odd feeling they were. he had a red ringer shirt on, and trousers that were ripped beyond belief. this obviously wasn’t the first time they had gotten into a little bit of trouble, and i‘m guessing the last time they didn’t have me to save them. 

either way, for some reason they both looked as if they were in awe of me.

“you’re welcome.” i murmured, sniffing and walking to the zombie corpse to collect the arrows. 

the shorter one stuttered before gathering his words and speaking. “who are you? what team are you on? where did you come from? how have we never seen you before?”

“the names’s y/n, i don’t know anything about fucking teams or any of that shit, can’t remember where i’m from and i could not tell you. i travel a lot so you’ve probably not had a chance to bump into me.” i answered bluntly, not trusting either of them and wanting to leave as soon as possible. their lack of equipment did not match their look, since it seemed like they had been away from any good base in a while. 

“i’m tommy.”

“goodbye tommy.” i scoff at the boy, even though he was probably the same age as me. “i’ve got places to be.”

the taller one that hadn’t spoken stepped forward. “you don’t look like you’ve got places to be, y/n.”

“and who might you be?”

“i’m wilbur.” he stuck his hand out and i shook it, looking up at him. “we’re from a nation called l’manburg, it’s an honour to meet you.”

“it’s not an honour to meet you.” i send him a sickeningly sweet smile and pull my hand away. “now if you don’t mind, i really don’t care who you are nor where you come from, i’m just trying to survive and quite frankly, i’d like to leave.”

wilbur laughed a little under his breath, and was about to speak but was quickly pulled to the side by his younger, dragging him behind the nearest tree he could find. obviously, he thought taking him behind a tree would mean that i couldn’t hear him, which was blatantly incorrect.

“recruit her? to fucking what?”

“i think we should recruit her.” tommy spoke.

“to l’manburg, will! she’s obviously on her own and we know she’s good with that bow, unlike some of us. she could help us.”

“to l’manburg, tommy?”

“you literally nearly begged niki to join us and moped around when she said no. give me one disadvantage of her joining us. i bet you can’t find one.” the blonde insisted.

“how can we trust her? dream might have sent her to infiltrate l’manburg.”

“he has no reason to be suspicious of us, he has no need to send her, or anyone at that. i’m sure she’s trustworthy. anyway, why would she have saved us from that zombie if she wanted us dead?” he asked rhetorically. “come on, you know you can’t say no to me.”

there was a small moment of silence before wilbur audibly sighed and spoke again. “fine, but if she’s a spy, or does anything to give l’manburg a disadvantage then it’s on you.”

the two of them come out from behind the tree, tommy with a wide grin on his face and wilbur with a not so happy looking frown. they had no idea i could hear all of that conversation, so i giggled a little when tommy eagerly asked the question.

“i’ll take it.”

“did you want to come back to our nation and stay with us?” he phrased it, hand resting on the sword he had nestled into the holster at his hip.

“to l’manburg?” i asked, grinning gleefully at my mimic of wilbur’s words. their faces went a little pale, each jaw dropping slightly as they realised that i had heard, but i just laughed slightly. “why should i?” 

“because you look like you need a friend. and we haven’t got much ourselves but any help is welcome.” he spoke, sending me a soft smile that for some reason i had to return. 

i couldn’t control it. i hadn’t smiled in weeks, the last time being when i’d found a small rabbit that needed taking care of, and yet here i was smiling at this boy that had just offered me a place to stay. such a big part of me was sceptical of the two, but why would they offer me clarity if they only planned to run me over later? they wouldn’t. and i really did need the help. i hadn’t eaten in ages and my arrows weren’t going to last much longer. i’m sure these people had good protection back at whatever nation they hailed from. it would be fine. so i decided to trust them.

“okay. sure. i’ll come with you.”

“yes!” tommy grinned, wilbur rolling his eyes at the younger’s excitement. 

“on one condition.” i raised an eyebrow at tommy as he slowed, cautious of what my condition would be. “you don’t kill me and leave me in a ditch.”

tommy laughed, and i felt a little spark at his laugh. it had been a long time since i’d made someone laugh. “it’s a deal.” he stuck out his hand for me to shake. “i won’t kill you and leave you in a ditch.”

i shook his hand and nodded, smiling up at him continuously. 

wilbur cleared his throat. “if you two are done, the sun’s setting, we need to get back before it gets dark.”

“we’re done, will, don’t worry. come on y/n, to l’manburg!”

i laughed again, and followed the two of them as they headed off towards whatever nation that they were from, wilbur ahead of tommy as the younger one waited back for me to catch up. yeah, he really didn’t want to leave me behind. for once i was thankful that someone didn’t want to leave me behind.

#c!tommyinnit #c!tommyinnit x reader #tommyinnit #fluff #dsmp x reader #dsmp #dsmp fanfic #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader

[thegeminisage]

much as it pains me, i only have an hour or so before bedtime so i've decided to press on to gerudo town...i want my snow boots before i try to get that memory and i KNOW they are there

omg this stable has boxes everywhere?! my buddy is here too. where to even begin

YOOOOO evil zelda has been at work here.........telling them not to go near the WELL in a DESERT?

cleaning up thi hoarder junk lol just like real life

man...it's so SAD to be their final customer :( it's sad they have to close up forever...

oh!! he wants art for the stable's final days 😭

geez, those are some tough pictures to get...i'll do my best, but not tonight lol

evil zelda saying stay away from the well is why it's shutting down!!! noooo

girl why does everyone obey her like that, like against logic...the monarchy barely means anything anymore. shes my babygirl but like if my stable was closing bc of some nonsense order i would simply violate the order

DONT TAKE ME OUT OF THE WELL I NEED THAT LOOT........

OMG yessssss FROGGY LEGGINGS!!!!!! god at LAST...only ONE MORE PIECE TO GO............

if i cleaned the well out does that mean the stable can open again 🥺

oh, when your meal pouch is full addison gives you rupees twice lol

im in the desert and i HATE. SAND. anakin skywalker was right about everything

oooh but it looks so different...the bazaar...what IS that tall thing...how do i sneak in this time lol

this poor korok will have to wait til i get my fucking sand & snow boots

oh cool you can rent a sand seal with a CARRIER now...love it

ah, i see. i guess i can take the korok after all lol. one less for later!

this sand shroud business seems SPOOKY...wild weather in real life fascinates me, and so too does wild video game weather

damn this old lady is fucking jaded. begging me not to drop dead in front of her lol

oh FUN this gerudo is teaching me like, gerudo language, and she's trying to teach me how to make the "v" sound...which i know, because english, but in japanese they don't have that i don't think. COOOOLL

lol a rito just named guy

ah, the updraft is to fly over the shroud...very good. i remember the map not working in botw and it was scary lol

but i still wonder how i get in??

just like when i did the story in the other areas i activate the shrines and leave them behind...smh. at least this time i have the excuse of "it's almost bedtime"

WHAT is this big mushroom thing with the bud in it??? looks almost like a lightroot

i've officially hit 999 brightbloom seeds lol. the game won't let me pick up anymore

oh wow the map going fuzzy is just as bad as i remember lol. it's bedtime but i just GOTTA get to town first...i think i remember an npc saying something about zombies i WANT TO SEE THE REDEADS (or do i)

okay. so.

i got. in. like by just. walking in.

saw a redead. immediately froze in terror.

it's not moving. i'm not moving. alright. alright

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

I SHOT IT AND IT GOT BACK UP KILL IT WITH FIRE

killed it with fire. don't like that

GIBDO BONE..........................it is literally not a gibdo. it's not a mummy. it's a redead!!!

shit fuck this looks. so bad. hudson's poor daughter...where even IS everyone

riju's not here...but i found her diary

my friends link and zelda are in hyrule and they'll take care of it 😭

geez she is so young to be dealing with all of this...older now but still

SNOWSHOE DUDE????

oh my god he's FINALLY in........but to what avail..................

so, everyone is hiding in the wells...

wow, even the bar is fucked up......tragic

where tf are the wells?

OH i found one!!! a square well!

message in a BOTTLE!!!! JUST LIKE OOT

oh lol it's a love letter from a gerudo. girl.......you can't just put love letters in bottles...you and finley both...enough

oh i found the way in but i don't have the girl clothes :( idk how to do it!!!

BULIARA WITH THE STEEL CHAIR

omg i get the special exception rule <3 i guess thats better than the last game...?

man they arent even allowed to talk to me lol

oh, these guys don't seem to know the trick - killing them with fire lol

another heroines quest! i'll be honest i didn't really understand the first one...

omg they put a guy in JAIL for coming in here...they're serious!!

ok the last thing i wanted to do before bed, which i am late for, was get my shoes. i had to look up the location but AAAA theres two redeads in my way!!!!!!!!! literally kill with fire

i am so tense and hypervigilant walking thru this town. my eyes sweeping everywhere between steps. i am NOT gonna get jumped by one of those motherfuckers this close 2 bedtime

oh god FINALLY made it

those brightbloom seeds just paid for my desert vai armor! of course i had enough for the boots and bought them first lol

well it's more than half an hour past the bedtime i wanted

but i unblocked the door and walked out

saw a redead shambling towards me. went back in.

that's a sign. that's for future liz to deal with tomorrow. eugh

#personal #loz blogging #totk lb #totk spoilers

[umbrellamedic]

Watching the Operation Raccoon City trailer again and...

"No time for samples, Four Eyes!" she could have gotten it from anywhere, Four Eyes chooses THE MOUTH

Four Eyes not even phased about the rest of the team running past hunting cops

Spec Ops hearing gunfire and their first stupid fucking thought "Civvies :)" Like, what??

...ok, killing the Licker with nothing but a knife actually is talent. Not bad, Spec Ops. Not bad. And the 'all clear' after; you don't know that, you have checked one hallway.

Lickers are best boys I love them. <3

Beltway is from Puerto Rico according to his bio. He sounds... Bostonian?? Or something, idk, accents aren't something I'm great with BUT. he sounds like he's from the North East somewhere.

Also I love how he sets up the mine and is just so fucking happy like "Boooom :)" What a lad.

Spectre... maybe... be good at shit.... be better?

The cop looking back at his friend, distracted, GETS BLOWN UP

BERTHA JUST RUNNING FROM THE SIDE WITH HER FUCKING MACHETE. YOU HAVE A GUN. WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS.

But also damn that was some FORCE you put into that swing. The ready to swing again, realizing the machete is STUCK in the car, having to push with her foot to get it out. Love it.

Vector vaults over the rail to jump down into the garage

Lupo vaults over the rail to jump down into the garage

Bertha takes the stairs.

Vector's voice. Yes. Thank you. Purr growl into my ear sir. ^///^

Lupo growling at him. Yes. Thank you. See above statement. ^///^

The closest zombie, then the screen goes dark, then the gunshots light it back up. A very quick moment, but amazing.

Team dealing with a swarm of zombies; IMMEDIATELY FUCK OFF FROM THAT TO CHASE A COP. Very goal oriented. Icons. Love to see it.

Spec Ops hearing gunshots. See the cop running FOR HIS LIFE. just "maybe not civvies??? not sure??" literally Vector has to stealth over and make threats for them to be like "oooooooh. maybe this is dangerous :)" Special babies. Please. PLEASE.

If I ever make another side blog for the Spec Ops team I want you all to know they will all be himbos. ALL OF THEM. Bitch I didn't stutter. Himbo energy for all these spec ops bbies. Sweet summer children. I have no respect. I am v biased.

"Guys. We got a liiiive one." -offended in Texan by this accent- Actually she might be from, like Tennessee or some shit. again, accents aren't my thing. i stand by my statement.

Beltway and Spectre coming in from the other side; literally i've seen this video a billion times and i have never noticed that before. i live in shame.

"This is a quarentine zone!" Sweet bby. PLEASE. why is your first instinct seeing the most maladjusted cunts Umbrella could throw together for what I'm pretty sure Umbrella thought was gonna be a suicide mission or some shit (i am convinced Umbrella spent the entire time hoping they all got fucking dead) who are all HEAVILY ARMED AND CLEARLY CHASING DOWN A MAN RUNNING FOR HIS LIFE IN THE MIDDLE OF A ZOMBIE INFESTED CITY and you're first thought is "i will approach and yell and nothing will go wrong :)" Himbo energy.

Vector. My heart. My life. Thank you for your service. LOUDLY makes a gun sound, starts talking just before he uncloaks. my boy appreciates DRAMA

special bby boy just looks annoyed like 'how DARE they do this to me, a man who has made no bad choices ever'

Also that hair. i appreciate it. none of the Umbrella boys are allowed to show hair and it's not fair.

LUPO JUST LOOKS AT THE COP AND FUCKING SHOOTS HIM. no words for the spec ops people. they aren't a concern until AFTER she completes the mission

just IMAGINE being that cop. you're running from these assholes, you've been shot, your friend was blown up, any others that were with you before this video starts are fucking dead. and you fucking FALL and it's like "i'm gonna die"

then you see spec ops and their resident himbo #1 making demands or whatever. and you're full on cop-brained so you're like "military good. am safe :)" so you're kneeling there expecting some kind of discussion to happen, maybe some hostage things

you never see the shot coming. imagine the relief followed by FUCKING NOTHING because Lupo isn't dignifying the spec ops himbos with discussion.

Vector just KNOWING this means it is go time. Shoots just after Lupo does

WE FINALLY SEE HOW HIMBO #1 HAS LIVED SO LONG. he isn't smart, but damn can he spider sense react. he's read the room- he did it late, but he got there.

Vector's kicks. 100% kick boy. Dem legs. Bet his thighs are great. Love to see it. King shit.

Lupo just calmly "Kill them all" and the team just raise weapons and shoot in unison.

i know they say Delta team is new, but there is NO WAY these people haven't worked together before this mission.

Bertha standing next to Beltway. Listen. I hc a lot of things for this team, but her and Beltway i have MANY FEELINGS about

I was gonna crack shit about Bertha wearing obviously fetish wear while everyone else has normal fabrics Vector's stealth stuff notwithstanding but that's still not the same shit as Bertha but tbh? She's the medic. This is designed for blood and shit to, like, slide off. But also it's like that scene in Repo: The Genetic Opera where the Repoman takes off his uniform and hoses it off. I imagine Umbrella medics do this as well. Or, at least, Bertha does it. Post-mission or post-torture session, she just hangs her outermost layers and fucking hoses them off. It's efficient. Practical. And she likes the look and feel of it. A true sicko. Wonderful.

"Who the Hell are these guys?!" "Let me ask them!" minigun. I like her. Spec Ops has one (1) person i might actually give a shit about.

Vector's stealth ending because he's taking damage from the minigun. I love it.

Side note: all scene, NO ONE CAN HIT SHIT. like, a couple times people will get a single bullet and it won't really matter. just in general. it would be a worse scene if there were people getting dropped, but it does make me laugh that it's two elite teams and literally no one can aim for shit.

speaking of a single hit. Beltway taking a shot to the shoulder, RESPONDS WITH A GRENADE. classic king behavior. his character is shown very strong in this. he's just SO CHARACTER. "Sonova. Bitch. Right back atcha."

lajfl;jads THE GAS PRICE IS $1.15. ok. for '98 i wasn't driving. and i'm pretty sure gas prices here tend to be pretty good compared to other places. but when i started driving in- fuuuuuck- '05 or so, that was gas prices. It was about that. i look at this sign and weep because it sure as shit ain't that cheap now. i need an electric but idk if that will save me money or where i would charge it or anything. this had nothing to do with the game.

Himbo #1 hearing a sound, getting down to look under the car, and just "shit" then RUNNING is such a good bit. the way the explosion FUCKS with the audio. chef's kiss.

that car looks like an Impala i inherited once; it was a '99 Impala. i'm not a car person but that's what i'm reminded of.

ZOMBIE MEAT SHIELD ZOMBIE MEAT SHIELD ZOMBIE MEATSHIELD. one of my favorite things in pvp and in general. it's just. idk, it makes sense to do. more zombie shooting games should have this.

"We need to flank these guys! Now!" And Four Eyes was like 'lawl, guess what :)' It doesn't show who threw the pheromones, but we all know

This zombie thing. is a new problem for the spec ops. I can see Umbrella having pheromones. That makes perfect sense, they need a way to direct the infected. but the spec ops guy just seeing that and KNOWING is like ??? idk. i guess it would be the logical guess when mystery smoke happens and you notice zombies coming for your ass, but he knows it .02 seconds after that shit goes off. x to doubt

Spec Ops at this point is more about killing zombies- fair, because of the pheromones- and Umbrella going STRAIGHT FOR THE TARGETS ignoring the zombies. this gives me life. this is their tactics.

I don't really understand Lupo's mask and it's three straps below her ear but whatever.

While we're on masks, i don't know how Bertha, Beltway, or Vector see with the lights in the eyes of their masks. But whatever

"We got a T103 Tyrant approaching" and then the debris blockade scene. It's jostled once. Twice. Tyrant realized that whatever he was doing wasn't working. THROWS A FUCKING CAR. this is a recurring theme for him. but it does solve more problems than it causes.

Lupo almost getting crushed by the gas sign. Picks herself up. that little headshake. then she sees the Tyrant. then the Tyrant sees her. "Holy shit!" This is Umbrella property, but she KNOWS that shit is gonna kill her and she's going to survive. Too bad shooting at it did not helpu.

Himbo #1 dealing with a zombie, slams it on the hood of a car. LUPO THROWN INTO THE DOOR OF THE CAR. Himbo #1 just ??? you know he's not Umbrella because he doesn't straight murder her. he starts shooting at the Tyrant. maybe he doesn't know if she's dead or not. if the roles were reversed, Lupo would take that shot- practical. just a quick pop to the spec ops guy, then shoot the Tyrant.

MEDIC FIGHT, MEDIC FIGHT, MEDIC FIGHT. it does demonstrate Bertha can take a fucking hit. and that her way of using her machete is to swing wildly. she doesn't have the finesse for a knife, she wants something big she can flail with and do damage. she can be delicate with a scalpel on an operating table, not in battle. about the taking a hit thing, the spec ops medic seems to be better at cqc than Bertha. she gets a kick in, but how he redirects her swing with his gun, hits her with the gun, slams her into the truck (both blows to her face) and Bertha doesn't even PAUSE. just full on attack mode

Beltway turning the zombie into a bomb. It's charming when Beltway does it, BUT WHEN NIKOLAI DOES THAT SHIT >:[

once again Himbo #1 has a moment of "...shit" and once again Tyrant's problem solving technique is to throw a car.

And of course the RESIDENT EVIL voice line. Beautiful.

#have a VERY LONG POST. #i would read more it but i've already written this and it won't let me insert the read more between bullet points #so i'm not. i'm just. enjoy scrolling through this #but they are all valid takes i'm gonna throw that out there. not to toot my own horn. but toot toot motherfucker :)

[ghostofanovelwriter]

My brother and I recently watched Clue (1985) for the first time and I thought I’d some some of our comments throughout the viewing.

“Y’aaaal that’s a cheap maid’s outfit.”

-“Her name’s white and she’s wearing black clothing. No one thought hard on that one.”

-“Can you imagine getting into a stranger’s car just like that? Can’t relate.”

-“I can’t tell the men apart at all. They’re all white and men. Why are they dressed the same? At least the women have interesting outfits.”

-“Watsword is a fraud. Why does he have an English accent?”

-“There is literally nothing in those spoons.”

-“Wait, who’s related to who? Somebody slept with somebody else, right?”

-“WHO’S THE FUCKING HOST?”

-“I can’t stop staring at the maid’s boobs.”

-“I’m so confused right now.”

-“so she’s totally killing her husbands, right?” “Nah, I think she just likes dressing like a widower.” Cue intense cackling as the men cross their legs.

-“EYYO! Green’s a homosexual? Why’s he being blackmailed he didn’t do anything wrong?”

-“I’m liking Scarlet but judging from her name she’s definitely up to something. The fuck’s a double negative?”

-“A CANDLESTICK IS NOT A WEAPON!”

-“Shit is that Tim Curry?”

-“It’s Wadsworth! I’m calling it right now. Never trust Tim Curry when he locks you up in a mansion!”

-“This has polyamory couple potential. Just complete chaos.”

-“Stop running around I can’t keep track of y’all.”

-“Y’all, give Green a seat. This is homophobic.”

-“Wadsworth is a bitch. A nasty one or an iconic one I can’t tell. All I see is Tim Curry.”

-“Omg if Green ends up being the murderer imma riot. He’s never done anything wrong.”

-“White’s iconic. Give her more screentime.”

-“Oh, wait! BODDY SOUNDS LIKE BODY AND HE’S THE FIRST VICTIM OMG I JUST REALIZED-!”

-“Peacock is suspicious. What’s she leaving the room for? Not for a oui oui?”

-“Zombies!”

-“Green is suspect number one on my list.”

-“NOOO! Don’t kill off Tim Curry!”

-“it’s totally that dude. Comes in way too randomly.”

-“Take a shot for every pun in this movie.”

-“Colonel is spilling way too much whiskey for it not to be poisoned.”

-“What is the point of asking if anybody is in the house of you’re not going to believe him?”

-“And of course Green ends up with Yvette. I swear if he somehow ends up straight because of this-“

-“nvm they’re totally the best duo.”

-“I’m getting weird tension between Watsworth and White. Is it just me?”

-“Nice knowing you Scarlet.”

-“Oh shit, that dude must’ve broken in and then went back outside to be invited back in the not arouse suspicion!”

-“has that dude just not question why he’s locked up in the library?”

-“alright I’m just confused again.”

-“someone just kill mustard please.”

-“ah man, now there’s going to be a dead black dude? That’s racist.”

-“they act so much like a family in such a short amount of time. Murder really brings people together.”

-“lol, Green looking terrified of straight sex.” “I think he’s terrified at the prospect of corpses having sex.” “Oh.”

-“are they seriously checking the house again? They’ve totally forgotten their original plan right?”

-“OMG YVETTE!”

-“OMG GREEN! Where’s Green?”

-“Tbh i’d shoot someone too if I got a singing telegram.”

-“at least have a little remorse for the corpses. God.”

-“fuck Wadsworth. We get it, we were watching the movie too y’know?”

-“tim curry runs like a video game character.”

-“GET TO THE POINT TIM CURRY!”

-“what do I even know anymore?”

-“i don’t even know who know who.”

-“Wait it was Scarlet? Wait what?”

-“Ah yes, the true idea of capitalists: blackmail.”

-“Wait.”

-“WHAT?”

-“Wait. Which ending is this?”

-just a garble of confused noise at this point.

-“WADSWORTH YOU BITCH!”

-“Fucking everything is a red herring at this point. Who cares about communism?”

-“i’m still so confused!”

-“Fucking everyone’s a criminal!”

-“NO GREEN WAIT! NO GREEN I LOVE YOU! SORRY FOR EVER SUSPECTING YOU!”

-“WHAT KIND OF STRAIGHT NONSENSE IS THIS?”

-“I’ve never have a character simultaneously surpass my expectations and disappoint me at the very same time.”

Overall 8/10 would recommend

#clue 1985 #80s movies #murder mystery #whodunnit #tim curry #that ending was ridiculous tho #fuck sleeping with your wife when tim curry is right there #couldn’t keep all the motives and alliances straight #instant classic for me still

[dateamonster]

hello tumblr user dateamonster!! do you have any recommendations for good zombie media? my gf rlly likes zombies but has burned through a lot of the good stuff to be easily found. movies shows anime games etc, anything goes. ty!

oof good question but one im not sure im totally qualified to answer since most of the zombie media i consume is on the campier, sillier side.

i do have some somewhat more Serious zombos i enjoy tho!

the girl with all the gifts is one of my alltime favs (and ive heard the book is good too tho i havent read it) it hits a lot of the beats zombie fans will probably already be familiar with but the main character being a sort of half-zombie (makes more sense in context trust me) as well as a child born into this apocalyptic setting creates a totally new perspective and to me is one of the strongest most thoughtful pieces of work to come out of this sorta subgenre in a long time

the resident evil game series is probably a given. on the off chance she hasnt played it or watched a playthrough, that shits mandatory.

z-nation i think kinda tippytoes the line between stuff fans of, for example, the walking dead will recognize and enjoy in terms of ya know a story focusing more on the interpersonal drama of a group of survivors living through an ongoing apocalypse, and the sillier doesnt-take-itself-too-seriously stuff i personally enjoy, like the ongoing bit where theres just a big ball of entangled zombies rolling across the scenery. its the delicious junk food of tv zombies (though granted ive only watched i think the first few seasons when it was playing nonstop on syfy)

and if you want to join me in enjoying only thee most quality campy schlock..

zombieland saga! literally one of my favorite anime ever! i consider it in this sort of less serious category because the concept of undead idol girls is obviously pretty ridiculous on paper and not gonna be everyones thing, but if the premise even remotely intrigues you, please give it a shot. the story is fun, the characters are loveable and surprisingly complex beneath the typical moe girl archtype exteriors, the humor is on point but doesnt undermine the actually pretty effective emotional moments, and the music fucks! we stan!

z-o-m-b-i-e-s is like c-tier early 2000s dcom realness with a 2018 budget, better choreography, worse songs, questionable moral messaging, all reeking with a dangerous level of green hair dye and party city greasepaint fumes. ive watched it like four times. i cant totally explain it but its got like nostalgic high school musical vibes except more paranormal and much much sillier. dares to ask the question: can cheerleading end all prejudice and bring about world peace? (the answer is yes but theyll be repeating that question for three movies)

zombie prom. very similar to the above in general vibe except the music is honestly kind of good? theres a stage play and a movie which is more or less just a slightly shortened version. in a lot of ways it honestly feels like the fully realized version of z-o-m-b-i-e-s. if you watch the movie ru paul is there, whether thats an incentive or disincentive.

and to wrap it up another game you probably already know about, lollipop chainsaw. yes its problematic but i am honoring my past teenage self who averted their gaze when they walked by it on the shelves in gamestop by saying tara strong sexy cheerleader zombie slayer game is fun and good.

anyway all this to say my taste is very questionable when it comes to this subgenre but i hope u get something out of it. a lot of zombie stories kinda flop for me because the horror element gets watered down into this more actiony survive the zombo apocalypse type thing but the concept of zombies is definitely something that interests me despite this and there are definitely some good pieces of zombie media out there.

oh! and i havent read it yet, but ive heard really promising things about the book manhunt by gretchen felker-martin. not explicitly a zombie story i dont think but draws from the same place for sure. would be worth checking out i think.

#ask #zombies #recs

[inksplit]

#twdg #the walking dead #game over #bad end #dead #i fucked up the shot and got dead on LITERALLY the first zombie #to be fair i havent played this in... a very long time. and im on switch now so all the controls are different

[leon-scott-kennedy]

Distrail

Chreon, Rated-T

Read on Ao3

For a price, anyone could check into a seedy motel, even three people covered in blood, guts, and grime, no questions asked, especially with the ashes of Raccoon City still cooling 100 miles away. So the horizon still held a faint glow of destruction when Leon and Claire stumbled, barely conscious, through the front door of the Tadpole motel at 2 PM October 1st, using each other as support and Sherry clinging to Leon’s back like a koala if a koala drooled and snored.

Two other motels along the highway turned the odd couple away, rumours already flying about Raccoon City, zombies, and a nuclear cover-up. But at the right price, triple the going rate, Claire managed to convince the manager to let them bunk down, courtesy of Leon’s stressed credit card.

The fact Leon’s credit card worked, or that he even still had his credit card, was a miracle. His wallet hadn’t exactly been a priority, and honestly, they could sleep in a cockroach-infested basement, and Leon would be happy because they were dead on their feet after hiking on foot what Leon estimated to be a good 30 miles of rough terrain to get to the nearest town. The sun barely peeked over the horizon when the sky behind them exploded.

Raccoon City was gone. The people Leon had sworn to defend were gone. Sherry and Claire were all he managed to protect, and he’d be damned if he failed now.

The motel room wasn’t terrible; two double beds, a small tube TV, and a leaky faucet. It wasn’t good, but it wasn’t something out of a horrible nightmare. They’d left that behind them.

“I’m glad we don’t have a blacklight,” Claire joked, but her tone fell flat.

Leon nudged the bed farthest from the door suspiciously with his boot, dragged back the yellow duvet, and inspected the mattress before he lay Sherry down and tucked her in. He even let Claire shower first, insisted, while he watched Sherry sleep, tossing and turning and whimpering from reliving the horrors in her dreams until Claire emerged from the bathroom, hair still damp, and crawled into bed beside Sherry.

By the time Leon scrubbed his skin raw, the water was cold, and Claire had passed out cold with Sherry cuddled up beside her, little hand tangled in the front of Claire’s dirty tank top like a lifeline. Leon passed out face first on the other bed. He couldn’t even muster the energy to get under the covers.

Movement woke Leon. He jolted awake, reaching for his gun on the bedside table, only to find Claire, fully dressed, perched on the end of his bed and tugging one of her boots. She smiled sadly at the gun levelled at her head.

Leon lowered Matilda, gasping for air. His arm fell limply to his side. “Claire?”

“Hey.” Claire pulled on her second boot. “Sorry.”

Leon blinked at the sleep crusting his eyes. “What... what are you doing?”

Claire sighed and set her foot back down solidly on the ground, hands grasping her thighs. “I need to find Chris. I need... I need to know he’s okay.”

“Now?” Leon glanced at the clock. The bright red numbers read 7:46. The setting sun outside glowed faintly behind the curtains.

“If you ever need me...”

“Forget me. What about Sherry?” Leon snapped, somewhat mollified when Claire winced.

“I know you’ll take good care of her.” Claire’s attention briefly snapped to the sleeping 12-year-old that had survived literal hell. “Leon... if I didn’t have to.”

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever,” Leon scoffed, then rolled over. His heart thundered in his chest. He heard Claire briefly wake up Sherry to say goodbye, promising they’d be in touch, that if Sherry ever needed her, all she needed to do was call.

The door creaked open. Leon clenched his eyes shut, willing down the panic swelling in his chest until it ached. This was it. He was all Sherry had left. They were on their own.

“Take care of our girl for me.” Claire’s voice was barely a whisper.

Leon’s hands trembled, buried in the sheets and pillows, he struggled to suck down air, and his hearing fuzzed. Claire was gone.

For hours, Leon faded in and out of consciousness, barely able to keep the crush of dread at bay. Finally, at some point around 3 AM, he gave up all pretense to sleep and kept a vigilant guard. He jumped at a car alarm, tensed at the slam of a door, and clenched Matilda tightly when soft footfalls passed their door. Eventually, Sherry climbed into his bed to watch early morning cartoons with him.

“Is Claire going to be okay?” Sherry asked softly. She hugged Leon’s arm, cuddling into his side like he used to with his grandma.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about her,” Leon said. He slumped to the side, gently resting his head on top of Sherry’s. “She’ll be fine, kiddo.”

When the sun rose, Leon and Sherry trekked down to the front office to extend their stay another night, then hiked into town searching for clothes and sustenance. Being out in public, surrounded by people, set both Leon and Sherry on edge. They jumped at the slightest sound, and Sherry refused to release Leon’s hand for anything less than going to the bathroom, and even then, he had to stand guard outside the stall. Thank god he had pissed before they left the motel because Sherry was clinging to the back of his jacket while he tried seemed ridiculous.

Their shopping trip was quick. They grabbed what they could, Sherry setting a brisk pace through the little thrift store they found, dragging Leon from rack to rack. They scrounged up a few changes of clothes, socks, underwear, which Leon was a little uncertain of, a jacket that fits over his side holster since he had a license to carry, and a backpack that they filled with snacks and a deck of cards from a little corner store. It turns out Leon’s palette was similar to a twelve-year-old.

The tenuous credit limit finally crapped out on Leon when he tried to buy a six-pack at a shady liquor store on the way back to the motel.

“No job. No money. Just great,” Leon sighed.

For the rest of the day, they holed up in their room munching on junk food, watching terrible daytime TV, and playing Go Fish until Leon made the brilliant decision to teach Sherry how to play poker, and she fleeced him for all the Cheetos.

Leon had no plan beyond survive, and he hadn’t even planned for that. His body ached from being tossed by mutated monsters and shot. His wrapped shoulder twinged.

“Shit,” Leon cursed and clutched his wound. They needed help. He needed help. Taking care of a kid without any resources would be impossible; never mind, he’d never taken care of a person in his life. He had no siblings, no parents. His grandma died when he was nine.

Leon smiled at Sherry in reassurance when she questioned him. This little girl couldn’t be another statistic of the system. He could fix that. He would fix that.

Covered in orange Cheeto dust, Sherry crashed around 8 in the evening. The glow of the sun behind the curtain reminded Leon of the mushroom cloud that had enveloped the sky 36 hours ago. Leon’s stomach twisted in knots. Every creak, every thump, every squeaky break, Leon tensed, waiting for something to crash through the door and disrupt the precarious peace.

Leon hunkered down on his bed, the one closest to the door and any potential threat that came for them, and prepared for another sleepless night on edge.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Around one in the morning, his eyes beginning to droop, Leon nearly fell off the bed in his mad scramble for his gun when someone knocked heavily on the door. Checking his clip, Leon cautiously crept to the door, motioning for now very awake Sherry to stay out of sight.

“Who is it,” Leon called.

“Hi. Look, I’m sorry to bother you. My name is Chris Redfield. I’m looking for my sister Claire.”

Leon blinked and glanced back at Sherry, whose head had popped out of the blanket at the sound of Claire’s name. Then, double-checking he had bolted the chain, Leon opened the door a crack to peek out.

A man a little taller than Leon stood under the flickering light outside the door, his hair cut short and a 5 o’clock shadow. Chris Redfield, decorated member of the Racoon City Stars Division. Leon recognized him from the old photo Claire had shown him, but also the records he’d run across during his frantic hunt through the Police Department.

“Chris?” Leon said, astonished it was actually him. He slammed the door, unbolted the chain, and flung the door open again. “What the- Claire’s looking for you. What are you doing here?”

Chris, who eyed the gun uncertainly, brightened at the mention of his sister. “Is she here? The manager at the front recognized her. Said she was here with some guy and a kid.” Chris glanced past Leon into the room to Sherry curled up in the other bed peering out with curious fear from under the blankets.

Leon shook his head, eyes scanning the parking lot. “She’s not here. She left this morning to find you.”

“Fuck.” Chris winced and glanced at Sherry again. “Shit, sorry.”

Sherry giggled into her hands, and Leon rolled his eyes. “I think she’s dealt with worse.” Like the apocalypse.

“But she’s okay. She’s alive?” Chris asked.

“Who? Claire? Yeah. Yeah, she’s fine. Saved my ass more than a few times.” Leon smiled wistfully and then frowned. So Claire had left, and now, here, her brother was trying to track her down. It must be nice to have someone that gave a damn about you.

“Oh, thank god.” Then, finally, all the tension and stiffness in Chris’ posture melted. “I got her message, and...”

Leon scanned the dark parking lot again for any sign of life, then gestured into the motel room. “You should come in.”

“No.” Chris waved off the invitation. “No, I need to find her.” But the fatigue in his voice threatened to topple him, and that would definitely fell Leon if he tried to catch him.

“Dude, you’re dead on your feet,” Leon said. “It’s the middle of the night. Crash for a few hours.”

“Yeah!” Sherry chimed in, bouncing on her bed. “Stay!”

Chris shook his head. “I can’t.”

Leon pursed his lips. “Look, I don’t know you, man. But I do know that if you pass out behind the wheel and wrap yourself around a pole, you’re pretty damn useless to her.”

Chris opened his mouth to argue, and Leon sighed, tilting his head to the side, ready to give up when Chris snapped his mouth closed and cleared his throat. He studied Leon closely, scrutinizing him like he would a suspect, but Chris must have been satisfied with what he found - weakness, terror, immaturity - because he finally said, “just a few hours.” And the anxiety squeezing the life out of Leon eased, just a tiny bit. Enough that he could breathe.

Chris excused himself to run and grab his go-bag, and Leon cursed his stupidity because nothing was stopping Chris from running. That tightness immediately returned, but a few minutes later, another sharp knock sounded at the door.

Leon smiled tiredly and welcomed Chris into the room, relieved to have the company, someone who knew what they were doing; an adult. Leon grew up fast, but he’d never been an adult in his life. Racoon City was supposed to be a fresh start, and now, he was back to square one. Not even. He was in the basement of square one—the root cellar.

Leon finally caught a good look at Sherry with the lights on, still covered in orange dust, her fingers and cheeks stained. “Jesus. Did you eat the Cheetos or roll in them?”

Sherry laughed. “Leon taught me to play poker, and then I won all the cheezies,” she said to Chris, who grinned.

“Nice job.” Chris offered her a high-five, which she eagerly accepted. The hero worship was already forming.

“He gets a little wrinkle right here when he lies,” Sherry said, pointing a small finger between her eyebrows.

“Okay,” Leon said, scooping Sherry off the bed and carrying her off under one arm. “Let’s get you cleaned up and back in bed, munchkin.”

Cheeto dust proved a formidable adversary, but they managed. When they walked back into the room, Chris was standing exactly where they had left him, his bag still slung over his shoulder and his boots laced.

Getting Sherry tucked back into bed became a struggle now that the brand new company hyped her up; no hesitation whatsoever. She liked Chris. She even made Chris put her to bed, Leon faking offence at being disregarded for the new guy, but there was something about seeing a six-foot boulder of a man coax a tiny twelve-year-old back to sleep that made Leon’s chest ache. Especially when Chris told the story of how Claire was convinced that if she left fake teeth under her pillow, she could trick the tooth fairy into giving her more money. It never worked. The tooth fairy left chocolate coins instead. Fake money for a fake tooth.

Leon watched perched on the edge of the other bed, a little envious of Chris’ skill with kids. He double-checked the safety on his handgun, then the clip. Chris eyed Leon as he set his weapon back down on the bedside table, and Leon couldn’t muster the energy to be self-conscious about his paranoia.

Chris may be Claire’s sister and a fellow survivor of Raccoon City, but Leon didn’t actually know him. For all he knew, he was a traitor like Irons or Wesker. Maybe he wasn’t the man Claire believed him to be. What the hell had he been thinking? Inviting a stranger to stay with them?

With Sherry asleep again, Leon and Chris were left to settle in for the remainder of the night. For Chris, that meant shedding his bulky jacket and combat boots.

“It’s Leon, right?” Chris said. He stood awkwardly beside the bed, watching Leon click off the light and climb under the blankets, tucking himself up against the edge of the mattress as close as he possibly could without toppling off. “Claire mentioned you in one of her messages.”

Leon almost facepalmed. He hadn’t introduced himself. He really was doing everything backwards. “Yeah. That’s me. Leon S. Kennedy.” He curled up into a small ball.

“Jesus Christ.” Chris swiped his palm across his mouth. “You’re the new rookie.”

Leon chuckled humourlessly, his hands tightening into fists around the sheets pulled up to his neck. “Was a hell of a first day.”

Chris picked up real quick that Leon didn’t want to talk about it. So instead, he climbed into his side of the bed, the one closest to the door. The mattress dipped under his weight, and Leon tensed. Where else would Chris have slept? The floor? The last person Leon shared a bed with was his ex, who had seemingly saved his life. If she hadn’t broken up with him, if he hadn’t gotten drunk, if he hadn’t slept in hungover as hell, he would have arrived right in the middle of the initial panic, and who knows if he would have survived that. No one else in the department had.

What would it have been like? The screams, the moans, the pleas for help- the sounds still played on repeat in Leon’s head. Lieutenant Marvin Branagh, mouth agape, stumbling towards him with his hands out. Leon had put two bullets between his eyes.

The first indications of a panic attack slammed into Leon. Abruptly, his throat closed. He couldn’t breathe, his vision slid out of focus, and his chest compressed. Like someone reached into his chest and squeezed his heart in a vice. His entire body shook.

Suddenly, a warm voice murmured in his ear, the soothing tone talking him down, calming him. Leon wasn’t alone. He wasn’t trapped in the police station battling endless waves of the undead, the people of Raccoon City he’d taken an oath to serve and protect.

“Leon, kid, you need to breathe,” Chris said. His presence was a solid wall behind Leon. “I’m going to touch you, okay?”

Leon focused on Chris’ voice. His vision began to swim back into focus, his hearing rushed back in a sudden wall of familiar night noises like the drip of the faucet in the bathroom or the lonely car that passed on the highway. He nodded, not fully understanding what Chris was saying. An arm slid around his waist and pulled him back into a firm chest. Leon flailed, seconds from panic again when Chris’ voice rumbled in his ear.

“You’re going to be okay. I got you.”

Leon grasped Chris’ arm, his grip probably tight enough to leave bruises, and he choked on a shuddering sob.

“It’s okay, Leon. You’re going to be okay.”

Gasping for air, Leon rolled over and buried his face in Chris’ chest, and Chris let him. Leon’s sobs were muffled in Chris’ arms, not wanting to disturb Sherry in the next bed. He felt every subtle muscle flex when Chris tightened his grip or shifted them into a more comfortable position. That’s how Leon passed out, wrapped in the reassuring embrace of a complete stranger, one who understood the hell he’d lived through and the fear and uncertainty he felt in his soul.

Morning came quickly. Leon woke up still curled into Chris’ chest with a death grip on the other man’s faded t-shirt. Chris’ nose was buried in Leon’s hair, each soft snore ruffling his hair, but his embrace hadn’t lessened overnight.

The warmth of embarrassment burning, Leon snuck out of bed, anxiously loosening Chris’ hold and dashing for the safety and solitude of the bathroom, horrified at his complete lack of control the night before. No one had held him like that before, at least not since he was a child and his grandma would sit up with him after a nightmare. But, sadly, this was another type of nightmare, a waking one.

When Leon finally mustered the courage to wander back into the room, Chris was up, sitting on the edge of the bed with his elbows on his knees.

“You okay?” Chris asked the same time Leon burst out, “I’m sorry!”

Chris sighed. “You didn’t do anything wrong. When I showed up on your doorstep last night, I saw right away that you were barely holding it together.”

Leon’s fists clenched at his side. He couldn’t meet Chris’ gentle gaze.

Chris crossed the room in two enormous strides and considerately grasped Leon by the shoulders. “It was the shock finally hitting you. It happened to me too, but I was alone,” Chris admitted. “Hey. Hey, come on. Look at me.”

Leon bit his lower lip, but he slowly looked up, eyes stinging. “I don’t know what to do.”

Telegraphing his movements, Chris gently pulled Leon into a tight hug. “You’re not alone. We’re going to do this together. I want to take Umbrella down, but first, I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

Leon jerked back so fast Chris stumbled. “I want to help. I want to make those sons of bitches pay.”

Chris smiled. “Good. But first, I have a safe house.”

Together, they set the plans. Leon and Sherry would meet Chris in two days, hopefully with Claire in tow, at Chris’ new safehouse three states over. Sherry and Leon could catch a bus a couple miles down the highway to get them most of the way. The trick would be getting up the mountain to the cabin. But they were in this together. Hope simmered once again.

Armed with a freshly drawn map on motel stationery, Leon watched Chris pack. Umbrella wouldn’t know what hit them.

“Here. Take it.”Chris handed Leon two rumpled twenties, a five, and a few ones he dug out of his wallet. “It’s all the cash I have on me, but it should be enough to get you there. I’ll drop you off-”

“No.” Leon took the cash, but waved off Chris’ offer to give him and Sherry a lift to the bus station. “It’s in the opposite direction. We’ll be fine.”

“Two days,” Chris promised. Sherry had climbed out of bed and now clung to Chris’ arm as if he couldn’t leave as long as she was attached. He ruffled her hair. “With or without Claire, I’ll be there and we’ll go from there.” Chris grabbed Leon by the back of the neck and dragged him into a gruff hug, their foreheads lightly pressed together. “It’s gonna be okay, kid.”

And Leon believed him. That is, until two hours later when an unmarked vehicle pulled up on Leon and Sherry hiking down the side of the road, hand in hand. They never made it to the rendezvous.

#chreon #leon s kennedy #chris redfield #claire redfield #sherry birkin #re2make #re fanfic #leon kennedy #kennfield

[sourwolf-sterek32]

Welcome to the End

Summary: Y/N Winchester was a hunter like her brothers, following in their fathers footsteps. Saving people, hunting things, the family business.

During a case in Georgia, you meet the Dixon brothers and after saving Daryl’s life against a Chupacabra, the two of you become close. But, when the zombie apocalypse starts, life as you know it changes forever.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Winchester!Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: Language, minor descriptions of blood

Chapter 3-

The next week went by eerily quieter than usual. Nothing happened. Literally nothing happened.

There weren't any mysterious cases popping up like there usually was, not even a simple salt and burn or anything. It was like all the supernatural creatures had just disappeared off the face of the earth and you hated how neither you or Cas could access angel radio anymore.

However, a few days later, that's when it all started.

It began with a few reports coming from Australia about people turning cannibal and attacking other people. At first you didn't think much of it, but then it started happening in other counties and eventually it hit the states.

Everyone had been told to stay indoors until this whole thing blew over, but the four of you knew that it wouldn't blow over. You all hit the books in the bunkers library searching for anything that you could find that might help, but there was nothing.

Three days later, electricity and phone service was cut. Luckily, the bunker had a backup generator that could last for a few months, so you were fine for now. But, the world outside wasn't.

The dead were walking.

The government, all law enforcement, businesses, everything was gone and there was no way of contacting your friends to see if they were safe or not. You had no idea if Daryl was safe.

You all stayed inside the bunker, going over every single book and artefact in the library, but after a whole month of just searching for a cure to this thing, it was clear that there wasn't. This is what Chuck meant. This was the end.

Eventually the food and water in the bunker began to run out and the four of you started to scavenge the nearby town for supplies.

You very quickly learnt that the zombies only went down with a headshot and although they may seem slow and stupid in small numbers, if you came across a large group of them, you were screwed.

Noise and blood attracted them, if you got bitten or scratched then you'd become one of them. Although, you weren't sure if Cas could heal a zombie bite or not, or if you could either, but your powers were screwed anyway, and you didn't feel like going through that pain to try. You weren't even sure if the zombies could turn you or Cas, but they could turn humans and you weren't going to let your brothers become one of them.

You, Cas and your brothers stayed together. If one of you wanted to go out and scavenge, then you all went. You have come across a few other survivors over the months, most of them just wanting to rob you, which never ended well for them.

The wound on your shoulder had healed up eventually, leaving a dark circular scar in its place. The generator in the bunker ran out of fuel a few weeks ago and although you had scavenged a lot of gas cans worth of fuel, you saved them mostly for the Impala in case you needed to make a quick getaway. You had torches, lanterns and candles set up inside the bunker, so you could see inside because it wasn't like you just crack a window in the bunker to let light in.

It was hard not to use your powers though. Since you found out that you were a Nephilim, you had used your powers probably every day ever since, so it was hard to kick the habit. Even if it was to just move a bottle of beer closer to you, you'd just do it automatically without thinking and pay the price not a second later when pain seared through your head. Chuck was probably laughing at you from wherever he got sent to after he died. Asshole.

Since the dead started to walk, you hadn't seen or heard about any other supernatural creatures running around outside. You were starting to get the feeling that it was because Chuck had killed all the other supernatural creatures, leaving just humans and the zombies. The ultimate zombie apocalypse. But, why keep you and Cas alive? Probably just so you could live and see the world end, fucking Chuck.

The four of you lived in the bunker for over a year, scavenging nearby towns and staying low to survive. 

Dean and Cas had been at each others throats everyday. Dean still hadn’t forgiven him for what happened to Mary even though it wasn’t the angels fault, but Dean was still angry with him despite what you and Sam kept saying. 

You all knew that you couldn’t stay inside the bunker forever and you wanted to go try and find the others, find Jody, Donna, Rick and Daryl. You really wanted to just pack up the Impala and go find him. Hell, you didn't even know if Daryl was alive. He better be alive, he had to be. 

-

Then...

You walked through the woods for nearly 10 minutes trying to find Daryl Dixon.

His brother had called you and told you that he never returned from his hunting trip last night. Why he even went out hunting to begin with was beyond you because if you remembered correctly, you specifically told him to stay out the woods.

Suddenly, your super hearing picked up the sound of twigs snapping in the distance, indicating that someone or something was nearby. Without a second thought you took off running in the direction of the noise, mentally taking note of the very obvious large wolf tracks on the ground, but wolves did not have paws that big. What the hell made those tracks?

You quickly stopped when you spotted a panicked Daryl hiding behind a large tree. His crossbow in his hands as he struggled to catch his breath, but by the way his back was pressed against the tree, it was clear he was hiding from something.

"Dixon." You called out, walking over to him causing his eyes to snap in your direction, his crossbow aimed at you as you raised your hands. "Easy tiger. I'm here to help you, but if you pull that trigger, I might rethink that." You said nodding towards the crossbow and Daryl lowered the weapon with a sigh.

"There's somethin' out here. It's been trackin' me all night, we gotta get outta here." Daryl quickly said, panic evident in his tone.

His eyes scanned his surroundings like he was just waiting for something to jump out and attack, but that's not how vampires worked. But, vampires sure as hell wouldn't waste time tracking some random dude through the woods in the middle of the night, so what was going on?

"You head back. I'll deal with it." You answered, turning around as you began to walk in the direction that Daryl kept looking towards, indicating that was where he thought the suspect was.

"I ain't leavin' ya out here." He responded and you glanced over your shoulder realising that he had started to follow you further into the woods. Well, the man had guts, you will give him that.

"Did you get a good look at this thing?" You asked, turning back around as you continued walking.

"Ya wouldn't believe me if I told ya." He muttered, jogging the remaining distance until he was walking beside you, his crossbow still in his hands.

"Try me." You responded, before your phone began to ring from your pocket and you quickly pulled it out, reading Dean's number as you answered. "What's up?" You asked, and you didn't miss the look of disbelief on Daryl's face at how causal you answered the phone when you were literally walking through the woods with a stranger trying to find a supernatural creature.

"We're looking at the body. It wasn't a vampire. There's three puncture marks on the man's neck, but they aren't from vampire fangs, they're like canine teeth-" Dean began to explain before Daryl suddenly grabbed your shoulder snapping you away from the phone conversation as you looked over at the guy to find him staring wide eyed at something in the distance.

You quickly followed his line of sight and your whole body froze as you took in a creature that you had only ever seen in the history books.

The creature was the size of a small bear, but looked like some kind of wild dog on drugs. It was hairless with giant spikes sticking out of its back along it is spine. Your eyes flashed down to its sharp claws before you looked back up to its head noticing the three canines sticking out its top jaw. Well, shit.

"It's not a vampire. We think it's a Chupacabra." Dean's voice said through the phone that was still pressed to your ear, but you didn't take your eyes off the monster that was standing 20 metres in front you.

"It's definitely a Chupacabra." You answered, watching as the animal began to take a few steps in your direction.

"What? How do you know-"

"I gotta go. Meet me back at the trailer park." You quickly said, hanging up the phone before Dean had a chance to answer as you pulled your angel blade out that was tucked in the side of your boot.

"Ya gonna try stab it?" Daryl suddenly questioned and you just shrugged your shoulders.

You honestly you had no idea how to kill this thing. Until a few moments ago, you didn't even know they existed and that was saying something.

You stabbed it, nothing happened.

You shot it with your handgun, nothing happened.

You threw Daryl your backpack and told him to make a Molotov cocktail and he gave you a weird look, but found the supplies in the bag to do it. He threw it at the monster, but nothing happened.

You tried to cut its head off, but that only resulted in pissing it off and you ended up getting your stomach scratched by its claws.

Eventually, you pulled out a silver bullet and shot it right between the eyes and to your relief the Chupacabra finally dropped motionless and you sighed with relief. Should have started with the damn silver bullets.

You turned back towards Daryl to find him holding your backpack in one hand and his crossbow in the other as he stared at you in absolute shock. But, he managed to snap out of it and pointed towards the blood that had seeped through your flannel shirt with panicked eyes.

"I'm fine, it's already healed." You said, lifting up your shirt to show him the clear skin causing his eyes to widen further if that was even possible as he stared at where the claw marks used to be.

"That ain't possible." He muttered, shaking his head in disbelief causing you to chuckle as you pointed towards the dead monster behind you.

"You just saw this thing try and kill us, and you're having trouble wrapping your head around my fast healing?" You asked, raising your eyebrows at the man.

Daryl didn't say anything as his eye's flashed between you and the monster as he tried to process everything that had just happened, but he was struggling. It was a lot to take in. You were shocked the guy was still standing beside you instead of running in the opposite direction.

"Look, the supernatural is real. All the things that go bump in the night are real. Werewolves, vampires, demons, ghosts, you name it, my brothers and I have probably killed it. Also, I'm not a cop." You explained.

"No shit." Daryl muttered.

"I'm a Nephilim. Part angel, part human. But, my brothers are human and we're hunters. Not the same kind as you and your brother. We hunt supernatural creates, not many people know this stuff exists and we'd like to keep it that way. Most people can't handle it, knowing this shit is real." You continued to explain causing Daryl to chuckle, almost hysterically.

"Ya think I can?" He questioned and you just shrugged your shoulders.

"Well, you haven't run away or passed out yet, so I'm leaning towards, yes." You answered, before an all too familiar growl filled the air. Of course, there had to be more than one.

You quickly turned around, raising your handgun to take out the other one, but there were more than one. There was a whole damn pack of them. Well, shit just got interesting.

"Do I run now?" Daryl hesitantly asked and you glanced over at him to find him still standing beside you, his grip tightening on his crossbow.

You smiled softly at the mans courage as he stared at the pack of Chupacabra's in front of you and it was like his voice ticked them off because they all suddenly sprinted towards you. Fangs and claws out as they charged and you quickly raised your hands, sending telekinetic shock waves towards the monsters stopping them in a split second.

You heard Daryl gasp from beside you as you used your powers. You lifted your hands higher, raising the pack of monsters in the air before you squeezed your hands into a fists and watched as the Chupacabra's all exploded, killing them instantly.

"Ya could do that the whole time?! Why didn't ya do that to the first one?" Daryl's voice questioned in a mixture of shock, panic and confusion as you turned around to find him still standing behind you.

"I needed to find out how to kill these things without my powers. We honestly didn't know they existed, let alone how to kill one." You tried to explain, but Daryl was still staring at you like you were speaking a different language. "If my brothers or any other hunter comes across these things, they'll know how to kill them now. Silver bullet to the head." You explained and Daryl nodded ever so slightly before he looked back towards the dead Chupacabra and the guts of the exploded ones on the ground in front of you.

Neither of you said anything for a few minutes and you let Daryl have a moment to process everything he had just seen because for someone who didn't know about the supernatural yesterday, it was a lot to take in.

"You okay? I know, it's a lot to take in." You said, your tone gentle as you looked over at the guy who nodded as he slung his crossbow over his shoulder. "I hate to say this, but can you not tell anyone about what you saw today? Like I said before, if people knew this was real-"

"I won't tell anyone. My brother wouldn't even believe me if I tried." He chuckled and you couldn't help but smile watching the man laugh.

It looked good on him. He looked good. No. Don't even go there, don't even try and look at those muscular arms and broad shoulders, or those crystal blue eyes or... No, shut up brain. There was no point fantasising about this man, nothing could happen between the two of you, even if you wanted it to. Your life was too dangerous and anyone who got romantically involved with a Winchester was just destined to die and you weren't going to let that happen to anyone, especially this guy.

"We should probably head back. Your brother seemed pretty worried this morning when you didn't come home and if I don't get back soon then my brothers will start to worry and that's not good for anyone." You quickly said, snapping yourself out of your thoughts as you scanned your surroundings trying to figure out which way was back to town. You could always just teleport back to town, but Daryl would probably rather walk.

"This way." Daryl instructed nodding over his shoulder as he began to walk off and you quickly followed.

"So, what now?" Daryl asked as the two of finally reached the edge of the tree line and could now see the back of the trailer park where your brothers and Merle Dixon where waiting by the fence.

You stopped walking and turned towards Daryl who stopped as well, staring at you curiously.

"Now, you go back to living your life as normal. But, if anything ever happens that's... well, supernatural. Just call this number." You said, pulling out your fake FBI business card from your pocket and held it towards him.

"No offence, but I hope I never have to." Daryl replied honestly as he took the card and tucked it into the pocket inside his vest.

"You can give that number a call anytime. It doesn't just have to be for that reason." You added, glancing over at Daryl who's eyes widened in surprise causing you to smile before you both continued walking back to your brothers.

-

Now...

"We can't just keep living like this. There has to be something out there that can cure this. Maybe we can find Rowena and she can use some spell." Sam spoke up, breaking the silence between the four of you.

You were all hanging out in the main room of the bunker.

Sam and Cas were sitting at the war table while Dean leant against the pillar. You were leaning against the wall opposite him as the two of you bounced a tennis ball to each other because you were that fucking board.

"If all supernatural creatures are dead, Rowena probably is too." Cas responded as you bounced the tennis ball back to Dean who shook his head.

"No fucking shit.” Dean muttered, glaring at Cas as you ditched the ball at your brother in a silent warning to go easy on the angel. “Well, you two are still here. Maybe Rowena is too." Dean added, pointing towards you and Cas with the tennis ball before he bounced it back to you.

"I vote we have a little road trip, try find Rowena and see if any of our other friends are still alive. I need to find Daryl and I know going on a road trip in this new world is risky, but I need to find him and I know you guys want to find the others too." You said as you caught the ball and Dean just chuckled causing you to raise your eyebrows at him.

"You and Daryl have managed to keep your long-distance relationship working for years, I doubt the apocalypse would change anything. C'mon, let's start packing. We'll head out at first light." Dean declared.

-

By the time the sun was up, the four of you all piled into the impala, Dean driving, Sam shotgun while you and Cas chilled in the back with all your bags.

You only packed food, water and weapons, as well as a couple gas cans of fuel, because you it wasn’t like you had much room in the Impala with four adults inside. 

Dean drove until sundown, taking a few detours when the main roads were blocked or when you spotted any herds in the distance. You all took turns driving as much to Deans disgust, but he couldn't drive all the time, so you all took turns and switched off to sleep.

You couldn't stop yourself from thinking about Daryl though. You were going to Rowena's place first and then you were going to the trailer park to find Daryl... But, what would you find at the trailer park? Was he still alive? Would he even still be in Georgia? What if you find him as a zombie inside his trailer... No, you couldn't let your mind go down that path, he was alive. Daryl Dixon was too stubborn to die anyway.

A week of driving and sleeping in the back of the impala, Dean finally pulled the car over by some gas station, so you all could recharge. To your surprise the gas station actually looked half decent as you scouted the area and realised that it had hardly been touched and was still stocked with food.

There were a few zombies stumbling around inside that clearly used to worked there if their uniform was any indication, but the four of you easily took them down with your knives before you set up camp inside for the night. 

It was a nice change from the inside of the impala and you had a lot more space which you happily took.

"I vote we stay here one more night, before we keep heading East and hope Rowena is at her safehouse in North Carolina." Sam said, walking back into the building..

"I second that vote." You said, holding up your bottle of water like it was beer causing your brothers to roll their eyes before they all raised their bottles of water too and nodded in agreement.

You and Cas ended up taking the first watch while your brothers slept using their backpacks as pillows.

You sat on the edge of the open window sill looking out at the dark night for any signs of danger, but you knew you'd be able to hear any threats before you even saw them. But, it was nice just sitting there and looking out at the stars shining in the sky. For a short moment, it made you forget about everything that was going on.

"Hey." Cas' voice whispered and you glanced over your shoulder to find him walking towards you.

"Hey." You whispered back not wanting to wake your brothers who were fast asleep on the other side of the store.

"How's your shoulder?" He asked worriedly once he reached your side.

"It's fine. Almost completely healed, but my powers... Cas I'm practically useless." You sighed, looking back out the window.

"You're not useless, Y/N. You're one of the best hunters I know, with or without your powers." He said, trying to make you feel better and you appreciated him trying, but it didn't work.

"Maybe. But, that doesn't help this." You said motioning towards everything around you. "I can't fix what Chuck has done. He's destroyed the world... Jack might have been able to fix this, but I can't and if we can't find Rowena... Cas, how do we live like this? We can't and I... I don't even know if my boyfriend is alive." You whispered, hating the fact that you could feel tears starting to rise in your eyes.

Cas didn't say anything for a moment before he took another step towards you and rested his hand on your shoulder.

"I know." He sighed, taking a deep breath as a silent tear trickled down your cheek. "We will find a way to fix this... I don't know how, but we will find a way." Cas insisted and you nodded softly.

"I hope you're right."

"Me too." Cas responded, squeezing your shoulder gently before he started to walk away.

"Hey, Cas." You called out softly, looking back over at him as he turned back towards you. "You know that Dean doesn't hate you, right? He's angry and upset about everything that's happened and he's been taking his anger out on you. It doesn't make it right, but he doesn't hate you."

"You should tell him that." Cas responded, glancing over at the brothers who were still asleep.

"My brother... he's different. He expresses his emotions differently and I know it might not seem like it right now, but he cares about you. And I know you care about him too... Cas, I see the way you look at him." You said with a soft smile, but Cas shook his head.

"Y/N, trust me. You don't know-" He began to say before you cut him off.

"You love him, don't you?" You asked causing Cas' eyes to widen.

You smiled knowing what you had been thinking for years was actually true. Cas was in love with your brother and you knew your idiot brother loved him as well, but they were both just too oblivious to realise it.

"How did you know?" Cas asked in pure shock, quickly looking back over at Dean to make sure he was still asleep.

"I know my brother better than anyone and I know you. We've all been together for over 10 years... I see things, I know things... Dean will never be the one to say it first though, you know that right? He thinks he doesn't deserve love, that he doesn't deserve you... you should just tell him how you feel." You suggested, but Cas instantly shook his head.

"No. I can't risk that. I won't risk losing Dean all together, not after everything that's happened and everything that's happening, I can’t do that." He insisted and you just rolled your eyes.

"I'm not saying you have to, but you both deserve to be happy." You responded sincerely. 

"Since when do we get what we deserve?" Cas asked quietly with a sad smile.

"Well, it's about time one of us gets what we deserve. Just think about it, please?" You asked softly, watching as Cas glanced back at Dean before he nodded.

-

MASTERLIST

Next Chapter

-Gifs used are not mine. Credit to rightful owners.

Tag Lists- I will reblog with my tag lists, so if you wanted to be added to just let me know.

#Daryl Dixon #Daryl Dixon x Reader #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfic #the walking dead fanfiction #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #Destiel #SPN #supernatural fanfiction #Sam Winchester

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

An Accidental Series Of Fortunate Events - Kaminari Denki - Smut

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder​ Rating: NSFW 18+ Pairing: Kaminari Denki / F!Reader Words: 6,000 Warnings: Swearing, unprotected sex in an uncomfortable place (aka a vehicle), Denki is an idiot, I make a thinly veiled jab at The Walking Dead cause fuck that show, I was inspired after watching Zombieland, Kirishima with dark hair because who has time to bleach and dye when there are zombies running around?

AN: Another collab piece for the BNHarem server! This month’s theme is Apocalypse, and I got a chance to try my hand at Denki this time around. I think it came out pretty good! Shout outs to my pals @unbreakablekiribaku​ and @420bakubaby​ for your encouragement, and to all my loves over in WAP, you know who you are! <3

Check out the rest of the pieces in this collab HERE My Masterlist Buy me a Ko-Fi? ------

Denki sighed, adjusting his backpack as he trudged along the highway. It had been months since the disease had ravaged the country, a plague that no one had foreseen taking the lives of nearly every person in Japan.

He assumed he couldn’t be the only survivor, but he’d yet to see anything that told him otherwise. He didn’t even really understand how he could still be among the living if he was being honest. Denki’s life had always seemed like an accidental series of fortunate events. He got by on sheer luck. He couldn’t help but feel like he wasn’t supposed to be here.

He had tried to search for his friends with the panic hit. The chaos, the recently deceased coming back to life and hungry for humans, the whole thing seemed like something out of a terrible movie or a graphic novel turned TV show that was way too long and drawn out. The only person he’d managed to get a hold of was Sero, and their call had been cut short when the towers had gone down. And that had happened right after the entire city had lost power.

Being a pro hero, he went out into the streets to try and help, attempting to get people to safety and fighting those...things? Zombies? It felt so surreal to even say, even though he had experienced it first hand, watched as the man he saw at the convenience store around the corner from his apartment every morning full-on sprinted at the lady who always walked her Shiba Inu down to the park on Saturdays and ripped her throat out with his teeth.

Shuddering at the memory, he weaved around an abandoned car in the road, peering cautiously into the front seat to make sure that no one was hiding inside and hungry for flesh.

He kept a mental list now of things he had to do, rules he’d made for himself to keep surviving. Double-checking his surroundings was one of them. So when he heard the sound of tires on pavement, the revving of an engine from somewhere behind him, he was prepared, quick to run behind a car that was resting on its side, pressing himself against the undercarriage and listening closely.

Unless the walking dead was able to drive, he finally had an answer as to whether or not he was the last one alive. The question was, was this person going to be a friend or foe?

He heard the engine start to quiet, the sound of the vehicle slowing just beyond where he hid, and braced himself, his first unclenching as lightning coursed along his palms. He chanced a glance over the side of the car when he heard the transmission shift into park, and the sound of the truck door creaking open. What he saw nearly took his breath away.

You were standing on the road, a sawed-off shotgun in hand, your hair tied back and away from your face. Your tattered tank top was streaked in dirt and dried blood, your legs in dark jeans that were tucked into black combat boots. You were beautiful, and you were staring right at him, the gun pointed in his direction.

He ducked back down, his breathing ragged as he tried to figure out what to do now. Did he attack? Did he try to talk to you?

“Hey, Blondie! You gonna hide back there or come out and face me?”

He went rigid, eyes wide. Time to turn on the old Denki charm. He stood, breathing deeply and schooling his features, turning to face you. “Hey, sweet cheeks, what brings you to a place like this?” 

You blinked at him, your mouth in a straight line, and he felt his confidence waver. “What does it look like? Just trying to survive. Are you an idiot or something?”

“Hey, no reason to be so harsh, babe. I’m just doing the same as you.” He cocked his hip out and rested his hand on it, shooting you a wink. “I was beginning to think I was alone out here.”

Your eyes drifted away from him and scanned the road, the sound of birds in the distance the only other sign of life. “You’re alone?”

“Course I am. What about you?” He didn’t dare move, trying to keep from staring down the barrel pointed at him. You were just a few feet away, and one pull on the trigger would blow him to pieces.

“There are others. I’m just on a supply run.” You were studying him, looking thoughtful. “Why aren’t you armed?”

He raised a hand, letting the electricity flow down his arm so you could see. “I’m always armed, angel.”

Rolling your eyes, you nodded. “Nice quirk.” You looked impressed, and he couldn’t help but preen a little. Your gun lowered slightly and he felt himself start to relax. “You got a name, blonde?”

“You can call me Kaminari.” He let his hand fall, chancing a step forward. “I don’t mean any harm. Like you said, I’m just trying not to die. Could you maybe put the gun down?”

“Nervous?” Smirking, you lowered the weapon, and he heaved a sigh of relief. “Alright, Kaminari. Why don’t you come with me? You hungry?”

“Starving.” He slumped a bit, finally feeling like you weren’t going to kill him. “I had some jerky for breakfast this morning but it wasn’t great.”

“Tch.” God, you sounded like Bakugou when you made that noise, and it made him miss his explosive friend. “I’ll bring you back to meet the others. If they decide they like you, maybe you could stay with us. We might be able to use that quirk of yours.” You turned back towards the truck you’d arrived in, making to get inside. “No promises, though.”

Denki hesitated for half a second. What if the others you were with didn’t like him? He knew he could be a pain in the ass sometimes. Ultimately he decided to go with you. If your group didn’t like him he could just continue on by himself.

Hurrying around the car, he shrugged off his backpack, opening the door and sliding into the passenger seat beside you. “Hey, you didn’t tell me your name, doll.”

He watched as you settled into the seat, pulling the seat belt across your chest and buckling it. Your eyes met his and you shot him a smile that made his chest tight. “It’s Y/N.”

--

The car ride back was mostly silent. He was itching to ask you things, the chatterbox in him just wanting to burst forth and talk at you for hours. It had been difficult, being alone, since he’d always been such a social butterfly. When all you had to talk to was yourself for months on end, things could get kind of boring.

However, he didn’t want to scare you off or make you think he was some kind of weirdo, so he stayed mostly silent. He did ask where you were from originally, and about the others you were with, but your answers were short and lacking in detail, and he didn’t want to pry.

“Didn’t you say you were on a supply run?” His eyes were trained on the road ahead, keeping a lookout for the lumbering undead.

“Yeah, I hit up a drug store in the next town over.” You gestured to the back seat. “Medicine and bandages, bottled water, and some canned food. We only take what we need at the moment. We never know how long we’re going to be in one place, so we try to keep it light.”

“That makes sense.” From what he gathered, your group wasn’t large. There were only about 5 of you, so he assumed it was easier for you not to have a large number of things to carry around with you.

“Yeah, we’ve found a house in an abandoned neighborhood to stay in for now. We spent a few days combing through the houses in it, and it looks like the area has been empty for a while.” Your fingers tapped on the steering wheel as you turned the car and took an exit ramp off the highway. “I’m kind of hoping we can stay for a while. It’s nice to sleep on a mattress, and it’s got running water.”

“Oh man, a shower sounds so freaking nice.” Leaning back against the seat, he glanced over at you. “It’s hard when you’re on your own, there’s no one to watch your back.” He shivered when he pictured trying to shower and being attacked by a zombie while he was butt ass naked. “Even going to the bathroom is a risk.”

Snorting, you made a right turn and scrunched your nose. “Imagine dying with your pants around your ankles?”

“My literal worst nightmare.” You both burst into a fit of giggles, and Denki felt the awkward tension in the car ease a bit.

You started pointing out landmarks and abandoned stores. “We’re thinking this was one of the first neighborhoods to evacuate when things got bad. The houses are upscale, so we think they might have been tipped off early. Kind of sucks that the rest of us weren’t prepared at all compared to them.”

Nodding, Denki agreed. “It was absolute chaos in Musutafu. I was on the streets trying to help and just watching people rip each other apart. I’ve never seen anything more terrifying in my life.”

“You’re from Musutafu? So are a few of the people in my group.”

Denki watched out the window as you turned down a side road, the remains of a gated communities’ security booth on your left. The door looked like it had been blown off its hinges, and the windows all around it had been smashed. “Did you check the whole neighborhood?”

“Yeah, we started at one end and searched through all the houses. We were mostly looking for survivors, but we didn’t find anyone.” 

You followed the main road as he gazed at the abandoned mini-mansions. Tall grass swayed on every lawn, an obvious tell that it had been some time since there had been any landscaping done. Denki tried to picture what this neighborhood would have looked like before disaster struck, picturesque, with luxury cars in the driveways and well-manicured lawns, kids playing in the street, housewives lounging by their in-ground pools. It was jarring to think it would probably never look that way again.

You pulled the truck into the driveway of a large house at the end of the road, stopping in front of a closed gate. The tall fence connected to it wrapped around the property as far as he could see, and he could just make out a low man-made rock wall just beyond it, like someone had busted up giant slabs of concrete and stacked them all the way around, just to reinforce the fence. He had a feeling that was something that your group had constructed.

“Before we go in, I just want you to know, our self-proclaimed leader can be kind of a dickhead.” You moved to take off your seat belt and shot him a look. “He’s smart as fuck though and he helps protect us, so he’s not all bad. Just keep your head down and don’t provoke him and you’ll be fine.”

“Sounds like someone I used to know. I can handle it, don’t worry.” He cracked his knuckles and grinned at you. “I’m a pro at dealing with dudes like that.”

Eyes rolling, you shook your head. “It’s your funeral.” You got out of the truck and moved to the fence, using a key from your back pocket on the padlock keeping it shut. Denki unbuckled his seat belt and slid into the driver’s seat, watching as you pushed on the gate and walked it forward, clearing the way. Denki drove the truck forward far enough so that you could close the lock the gate behind you. He made to move back over but was surprised when you climbed into the passenger seat. “Just keep going up, we’ll park in the garage.”

He followed your instructions, creeping up the driveway and towards the house, his foot pressing on the break when he noticed the pathway to the garage was blocked.

“Or not.” You sighed. “Just stop here.” 

Denki put the truck in park, eyebrows furrowed as he took in the scene before him. There was a car up on cinder blocks, blocking the entrance to the garage. Someone was lying underneath it, their jean-clad legs and black boots the only part of them he could see. He shut the car off and handed you the keys, sliding out of the car when you did.

“E, you’re blocking my spot.” You called, rounding the truck. “Come help me with this stuff and meet the new guy I found.”

“Sorry, Y/N. I’m trying to get this thing to run for us. I didn’t expect to still be working on it when you got back but I’m having trouble.” That voice was familiar, and Denki’s lungs seized in his chest. “Wait, did you say new guy?”

He watched as the man shuffled himself from under the car and stood, his hair long and dark, with red at the tips. Red eyes, pointy teeth. Eijirou Kirishima.

“Kiri?” Pain bloomed through his chest like his heart had stopped beating. He never thought he’d see any of his friends ever again, but here he was, one of his best bros in the entire world. 

Kirishima looked up at him, a million emotions flitting across his face before it split into the blinding smile he was used to seeing on his friend’s face. “Denki?”

Denki launched himself at his friend, throwing his arms around him, relief flooding through his entire body. Kirishima picked him up, laughing and hugging him tightly. “Holy shit.” They stayed that way longer than necessary, swaying back and forth and mumbling into each other’s shoulders.

“Thought you were dead, dude. What the fuck?” Red Riot finally put him down, rubbing at his eyes and sniffling,

“I’m a bad bitch, they can’t kill me.” Chuckling wetly, he slapped his friend on the shoulder. “What, you give up on the box dye now that the world is ending?”

“I missed you, dude.” Kiri sighed, choosing to ignore the jab and reaching up to muss Denki’s hair.

“So...do you guys know each other?” Your voice broke them from their reunion.

He had almost forgotten you were standing there. Kiri seemed to be in the same boat. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, Y/N. We’ve known each other since we were 15. Went to UA together.”

“Does that mean-” You started, but Kirishima cut you off.

“Oh my god.” He turned to look at Denki and grinned, cupping his hands around his mouth and shouting towards the house. “HEY, SERO?!”

Denki knew he was going to cry for real now. His best friend was alive. The one person that he had been wishing to see this entire time was here, and Denki was going to get to see him again, all thanks to you. If he hadn’t run into you on the highway, this never would have happened. Swallowing thickly, trying to keep his emotions in check, he blinked up at Kirishima. “Sero is here?”

“Bakugou and Mina, too.” His formally red-haired friend turned towards the front door and threw an arm around Denki’s shoulders as they waited for the rest of the group to arrive. “The Bakusquad is back together.”

--

It had been so long since Denki had felt this relaxed. He’d showered and had a hot meal, and now he was lounging on a couch pressed up against Hanta Sero, his best friend. Kirishima and Bakugou were on the opposite couch, leaning against each other. Even though Bakugou had his normal stoic expression on his face, Denki knew he was happy. 

Mina was at his feet, chattering on and telling you about UA, and how Denki used to go stupid when he used his quirk too much. Her story came complete with her shooting a thumbs up, crossing her eyes and crying WHEEEEYYY, which had Sero and Kirishima in tears of laughter. Bakugou even cracked a smile, and Denki kind of wanted the floor to swallow him up. 

“Hey, do you need to tell her that, Mina?” He kicked his foot out, toes connecting with her back.

“Aw, are you embarrassed, Kami?” Teasing him, she poked his shin, before turning her gaze back to you. “Last I remember, our little Chargebolt here was in the top 20, so I’d say he’s got a handle on his quirk now.”

Denki felt his ears get hot, and he chanced a glance over at you, blushing even harder when you smiled at him. He’d only known you for a few hours and he was already smitten. Sure, it had been a while since he’d had any human contact, and it was hard to jerk it when you were fearing for your life at every moment. So it was only natural that he wanted to catch the attention of the prettiest girl he’d laid eyes on in months, right?

Sero pulled him up not long after, pushing him from the room and out the back sliding door. He leaned against the railing on the wooden patio, his neck craned so he could look up at the sky, and Denki settled beside him, mirroring his posture.

“I can’t believe we found you, man.”

Huffing a breath, Denki nodded. “Yeah, I know. I thought everyone I knew was dead. When we got cut off, I went out to help and figured I’d run into you, but shit was so crazy and I just...I don’t know. I wasn’t ready for that, dude. I became a hero to help people, not kill zombies. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that I had to take their lives, even though it was clear that their humanity was gone, you know?”

Humming, Sero bumped their shoulders. “I get you. It’s fine. We all had to wrestle with that. It was hard for all of us.” Sighing, he gripped the railing and hoisted himself up to sit on it, swinging his feet. “The four of us were together, so we decided to stick that way and headed out of the city. We tried to find you, and I was looking for Shinsou too but, we didn’t want to stick around too long.” 

A comfortable silence washed over the two of them before Sero continued.

“We found Y/N not long after that, holed up in a convenience store, wielding a shotgun like a champ. She’s badass.” Sero let out a low whistle. “Man, she gave Bakugou the business as soon as he opened his mouth to snark at her. I’ve never seen him shut up so fast. Even Kiri can’t get him to be quiet like that. That’s when we decided to join up with her.”

Denki snorted a laugh, leaning back on his elbows and looking at his friend. “She pointed that thing straight at me and I panicked and called her like 6 different pet names.”

“You’re lucky you’re alive, Kami. She must like you.” 

--

It had been two weeks since Denki had met you on that deserted highway, and you’d reunited him with his friends. Bakugou had been talking about moving on for a few days, but the rest of the group seemed to be comfortable and happy in the house, so he hadn’t been pressing the issue much.

There hadn’t been one attack since Denki had arrived, and from what Mina had told him, they’d only seen a few of the undead since they’d found the place, so no one seemed to be too bothered by it. It still left him feeling uneasy, so used to having to be on alert at all times. 

That was the least of his worries when he got to spend time with you, however.

He’d become your official partner when you went on your supply runs, under the guise of keeping you company in the truck when you ventured out into the world. He really just wanted to spend time with you and get to know you better. You had opened up to him more once you realized he was trustworthy, his friendship with the rest of the group enough to prove that to you. 

The crush that he had developed on you that first day just seemed to grow more as time went on. He was in too deep, and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself. In any normal circumstances, you would be completely out of his league, so he knew he had to take this opportunity while it was in front of him. 

He really did like you, situation aside. If he wasn’t constantly holed up with you in that house, or that truck, watching your back as you raided abandoned pharmacies and big-box stores for food and clothing and medicine, spending most of his waking moments in your company, he still would have grown fond of you in the way he had. It might have taken longer, but when every day could possibly be your last, there was no reason to pussyfoot around.

Unless your name was Denki Kaminari and you were a goddamn coward.

He was tired of hearing Mina and Sero complain that he was being a pussy, and that he should just make a move. He knew they were right, but there was this little voice in the back of his head that kept repeating the “what if’s”. What if you didn’t like him and you left the group because things got too weird? What if you did like him and he got nervous and fucked shit up? He needed to get out of his own head and just...do something. 

He didn’t expect that you were going to beat him to it.

“So,” you said, one hand on the steering wheel and your other elbow leaning against the door as you drove, the window cracked enough to let the breeze blow your hair around. “Are you ever going to kiss me, or are we just going to play this waiting game forever?”

Denki choked on his own spit, sputtering and coughing. “I’m sorry, what?”

Shaking your head, you paused, and he assumed you were waiting for him to stop wheezing. “I mean, am I reading this wrong? You’re into me, right?”

Pushing his hair back from his forehead (which you had generously cut for him the day before), he chanced a glance over at you, steeling himself. ‘Well, yeah, ever since you pointed a gun at me and almost made me wet myself.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “Don’t be a wuss, Denki.” 

“I love it when you insult me, baby.” Wiggling his eyebrows, he licked his lips. “So, what? You’ve been waiting for me?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, I didn’t want things to be weird, but I knew I couldn’t be wrong. I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention.” Biting your lip, you turned to look at him for a moment. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since you shot me finger guns and called me babe.”

Rubbing at the back of his neck nervously, he hummed. “Most of the time that scares women away. Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with you?”

“We’re all a little crazy, I guess. I think that’s why we’ve survived this long.” Your smile was contagious, and he couldn’t help but grin back, his arm moving across the center console, his hand open and palm up. 

You adjusted your grip on the wheel to the other hand, reaching out with your right and letting your fingers slot between his. He squeezed your hand, his eyes fixed out the windshield as you took the familiar highway back towards the house.

The ride back was comfortably silent, your fingers intertwined the whole way. Denki’s heart was pounding against his ribcage as he tried to think of what to do or say next. You, however, had other ideas. 

You turned onto the main road that led into the once gated community. He furrowed his brows, confused when you make a left down an unfamiliar street. The houses here were just as abandoned, all of their front doors marked with a spray painted red x.

“We marked them after we went through the houses, so we would remember where we’d already checked. It took us about a week to get through the entire neighborhood.” You explained, somehow knowing what he was thinking.

The road ended in a cul-de-sac, and you pulled the truck around in a circle until it was facing the exit, letting go of his hand so you could shift it into park and turn off the engine. He watched as you unbuckled your seat belt and shifted the seat back away from the steering wheel, his lungs seizing as you climbed over the center console and into his lap.

“Not that I’m complaining, but-” He hands moved to grip your waist and keep you steady as your straddled him, your knees on either side of his hips. 

“I’m going to get my kiss, and I’m not going to do it in that house with the rest of those idiots around.” Your hand moved to his hip, fingers pressing the release on his seat belt. He let go of you long enough to pull the offending nylon belt off of him, the sound of the metal slapping against the door as it sprung back into place nearly startling him out of his skin. 

“Yes ma’am.” Swallowing thickly, he pushed a piece of your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear. 

The next few moments were in slow motion, eyes fluttering shut, and chests pressing together as you moved closer. His palm slid to cup the side of your neck, your head tilting slightly as your lips finally met.

It took Denki every ounce of control he had not to let his quirk discharge when he finally got to taste your lips. It was everything he’d been hoping for and more. You tasted like the Dr.Pepper you’d gotten when you’d stopped at the pharmacy, and he could smell the scent of your shampoo now that he was close enough. He was addicted almost instantly.

Your lips were soft and pillowy, and he pressed you closer, wanting more. The feel of your hands on his shoulders, nails raking down the front of his t-shirt, and the quiet moan that left you when his right hand squeezed your hip was almost his undoing, but he held on. He would take this at whatever pace you wanted. You were in control.

You pulled away, gasping for air, your nose brushing against his and breath mingling. “You okay?” It was probably a stupid question, but he had to ask. If you felt anything like he did, then you were doing just fine.

“Mmm.” His sentiments exactly. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, a smile gracing them. “I kind of want more. Is it too soon? Maybe.”

“Well,” his voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve been telling myself for weeks that we could all die tomorrow, and that I shouldn’t be scared and just go for it, so if that’s what you need to hear…”

“Yep, that’s what I needed.” Blinking at him and biting your lip, your hips ground down against his, the sound of his groan filling the truck. “Fuck it, right? You only live once, and all that shit.”

“Fuck, yes. Bless up, Drake.” He let his hands dip under the hem of your t-shirt, the calloused pads of his fingers sliding over your soft skin. 

You sat back and ripped your shirt over your head so suddenly he wasn’t prepared for the movement, and he grabbed your waist again to steady you. “I’ve waited too damn long, Denki. Please, I need you, okay?”

Nodding, he swallowed down his nerves, wanting to show you how much he needed you, too. “You got it, princess. Whatever you want.”

“Shirt off. Pants, too.” 

As hot as the moment was, the next few minutes were filled with a lot of giggling and awkward movements as you both tried to undress in the passenger seat of the truck. Denki had the advantage because he was still sitting in the seat, and he just needed to pull his pants and boxers down around his thighs. 

You, on the other hand, had your ass pressed against the windshield as you pulled off your boots and tried to tug your skinny jeans down your legs. He tried to help as best he could, keeping you upright and tugging on the denim one-handed until you were able to step out of them. Black lace panties followed, and then you were back on his lap, your mouth pressed to his as your hand wrapped around his aching cock.

Breathless and still laughing, he moaned as your tongues battled for dominance, his hands roaming up and down your sides as you tugged on his hair. Warm fingers moved between the apex of your thighs, dipping through your folds, causing you to break the kiss, throwing your head back. Denki took the opportunity to mouth at your neck, teeth grazing along your skin, biting and sucking marks into your flesh. He inserted one finger inside of you, groaning as your body squeezed around the digit. You were warm and so wet, and he imagined what it would feel like, your muscles clenching down around his cock when he was buried inside of you.

He timed the thrusting of his fingers with the slow drag of your hand around his cock, your moans filling his ears as you rocked back against his hand. He inserted a second finger, scissoring them and stretching you out, taking his time to prepare you. He wanted this to be good, but with the way you felt around him, the way your body felt pressed against him, and the noises you were making, he wasn’t sure how long he was going to last.

Thumb rubbing against your clit, he added a third finger, the lewd squelching noises coming from your cunt enough to make his eyes roll back. You were chanting his name in his ear, your forehead pressed against his shoulder as your body rolled against him, your strokes losing momentum.  He couldn’t wait any longer.

Pulling his hand from you slowly, he lifted you to sit back a little, adjusting himself and guiding you back towards him. You raised up on your knees, hands on his shoulders to steady yourself, cheeks flushed and lips swollen from biting down on them. You looked so beautiful, and he thanked whoever it was that put him right here in this moment with you. 

You smiled at him, and he heard your shaky intake of breath as you lined yourself up and sunk down on his cock. You moaned in tandem, your nails biting into his skin as your grip tightened, hips stilling as he bottomed out inside of you. Denki was grateful for the cracked windows because the breeze that blew through the car felt nice against his burning skin, the beads of sweat dripping down his temple turning cold, and making him shiver. 

The realization that even though the windows were cracked open, there was no one around to hear the two of you. Grinning, he thought of all the ways he could make you scream once you were ready for him to move, and he couldn’t wait to hear you cry out his name.

You didn’t keep him waiting long, your cunt squeezing around him was all the indication he needed to start moving. Holding onto your hips tightly, he bucked up into you, reveling in the way you moaned, his toes curling as your hips ground down in sync with his. 

Your body welcomed him in with little resistance, gripping his cock, the warm and wet slide as he plunged in and out of you making him dizzy. He focused his attention on unclasping your bra with one hand, pulling it down your arms and letting your breasts spill free from their confines, his head ducking down and his mouth immediately latching onto your hardened nipple. 

Your moaning became louder, pussy clenching around him like a vice, unintelligible babbles spilling from your lips as he sucked, teeth grazing the hardened bud, his other hand massaging your other breast.

“Denki, Denki...please. Fuck, I need to come, please.”

Grunting in response, he let your nipple go with a pop, back straightening as he sat up. His fingers brushed along your cheek, turning you to face him properly, his thumb pulling on your bottom lip. “Need to come already, Y/N?”

“Yes, fuck, feels so good, Denki. Please.” Your tongue darted out to lick the pad of his thumb and he shivered again. He could feel the blood in his body traveling south, the wrecked look on your face as you bucked down against him driving him to the edge.

He used his now spit slicked thumb to rub against your clit in tight circles as he slammed into you, teeth nipping on your earlobe as he rasped in your ear. “God, fuck, come for me Y/N. Come on my cock, baby.”

Later on, he would tease you and tell you that even though you were a few blocks away, he wouldn’t be surprised if the rest of your group didn’t hear the noise you made when you reached your end. Your entire body locked up, trembling violently, the cry of his name that left your lips throwing him over the edge as well. He buried his face in your shoulder, his arms wrapping around you as his cock twitched, filling you with thick ropes of cum. It was so much that he felt it leaking out of you as you slumped together to catch your breath, even though he was still inside you. 

After a while you sat back a little, peering at him with your face still flushed, tears clinging to your lashes.

“You alright?” He brushed the wetness away with his thumb, biting his lip as he gazed at you fondly.

Nodding, you pushed your hair back from your face, a small smile on your lips. “I’m great. That was perfect. God, why did you wait so long, Denki?”

Rolling his eyes, he leaned forward to kiss you softly. “Good things come to those who wait and all that, you know?”

“Okay, but you were just scared I’d reject you, weren’t you?” You pinched his arm playfully, giggling at him when he winced and rubbed at the red mark you’d left.

“Maybe, but it was worth the wait, wasn’t it?” 

“You could say that.” Reaching up to pat down his mussed up hair, you fixed him with a serious look. “At least if I die tomorrow, I’ll know I was given the best dicking down I’ve ever received, and that it was from a top 20 pro hero to boot.”

“You just want me for my hero status, babe. Admit it.” He grinned, tickling your side.

“You caught me, Chargebolt. Now, let’s get cleaned up and get back before Bakugou comes looking for us and finds out we fucked in here. He’s going to be so pissed.”

“Let him be pissed.” Denki wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back to him, his lips finding yours again.

And for a few moments, he forgot that the world was ending and that the two of you could be ripped apart in seconds by hungry flesh-eating zombies

You were another accidental fortunate event that he’d stumbled into, and if that’s all that his life was meant to be full of, well, he didn’t mind it at all. 

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[tundrainafrica]

Why I love LeviHan (a rant)

So I'm pretty new to the LeviHan community and I just wanted to rant about how much of a work of art this fucking ship is even though I have no idea whether Isayama did it on purpose or not. But damn, this ship literally introduced me to the drama of shipping fluff and AUs --- two genres I used to avoid like the plague because never have I felt such adamance for a ship to set sail in YEARS since Percabeth back in high school.

To give some background about myself, the past five years, I was no fan of ships. Like literally, I tried to avoid shipping fics like the plague (for any fandom) because I was like "come on war racial war, zombie like monsters? Who has time to fall in love?" A lot of non romance shows don’t leave time for a relationship to develop and we literally just get a time skip where suddenly they pair people up together and I’m like woop good story but yo how the heck did they end up together.

In real life, I also did get into a healthy relationship with a guy, a slow burn after five years type and I thought yeah I've seen how I want a relationship to develop and now imma be picky as fuck with ships.

I did end up picky as fuck with ships but Isayama with the minimal screen time he actually gave this ship to set sail with probably minimal intention to actually confirm their ship got me climbing into this ship while it sunk canonically after chapter 132 because holy fuck ISAYAMA YOU MAD MAN.

Let's talk about how they were introduced. Trost is destroyed. Titans are impossible to kill then whoop. We get a group of weirdos and outcasts who can somehow kill titans like crazy.

Strong titan slayer dude.

Strong titan slayer girl. (Hange is female to me.)

Cool commander dude.

Cool interesting characters. Eren's dream team since episode 1. Two captains. Constantly together. Erwin is their glue. Nothing suspicious about that. They work together. They're too busy fighting Titans to actually be considering a relationship right??

Besides, Hange and Levi are just way too different like

Levi is like *slash slash slash I hate titans u ugly* *slash slash slash eww titan blood* *slash slash slash kill Titans they're all monsters* 

Hange is like *slash slash slash oooh titan blood* *slash slash slash dont kill them i wanna dissect them* *doesn't slash* titans make me horny.

Like sure we could argue opposites attract but there are more cases where opposite personality dating would probably backfire and with the idiosyncrasies of both parties at polar ends of the spectrum it just didn't seem possible for there to be a spark? Like logistically they would tear each other's hair out if they were stuck together in a relationship.

At that point, Erwin being the middle ground between both captain weirdos, I couldn't help but think shipping Erwin with either of them would have been the more realistic option.

Season 2 had its fair share the first two scenes with Levi picking her up and the carriage. Didn't see anything too sparky yet and yes the last scene where he could tell who she is by her knock. (but yes sparks flew in hindsight).

Season 3: Erwin the glue gets trapped in capital due to political reasons and only one arm. Two captains forced to combine forces to manage the survey corps in peril. They get their bonding moments like torturing some dude together and reflecting over the untimely deaths of Hange’s squad. (and maybe Levi’s squad too)

They separate while coup d'etat happens because their skills were needed elsewhere. They got to save Eren and like hours later in the cavern Levi was especially concerned about Hange when she got shot by the hook back in the cavern like you don't see that concern with any other character except maybe Erwin. (But it can be argued that maybe all the other people he ever loved died too fast he never got the time to be concerned.)

All the way until the battle of Shiganshina Levi is usually with Hange.

When he’s not with her, there’s a reason (usually Erwin’s orders.)

When he's not with her he's thinking about her.

Then Erwin their magical glue of a commander does die and the captains gotta stick together even without the glue because they're the last two surviving people in the old survey corps.

It's apparent Levi hates the changes made to the survey corps because he still keeps the green cloak which everyone kinda abandoned. So it can be argued that Hänge was also that last bit of fresh air Levi had of the olden days.

So

they're

together

in

almost

Every

Friking

Scene

Like you can't blame them. Levi is anti social and traditional survey corps type.

Hange is still reeling from the loss of Erwin and her quick rise to power as commander.

They may have differing personalities but they had the same history. They both know loss, bloodshed and battle the survey corps brings that no one else probably understands to the extent they do.

And we get the bombshell of this scene.

Hange literally proposes to him that they just run away to the forest and just build a life for themselves and the cold harsh brazen Levi doesn't outright reject it.

He instead acknowledges what he knows about her that she'll never do that. This only confirms that they know each other too well, that they have a bond that exists between them which cannot so easily be replaced by anyone else.

And then a few chapters later

Dead.

And sure yeah Levi didn't cry but like yo, the way Levi handled her death is worse than crying. We have never seen Levi react to a death like this.

Levi is holding on to the hand which touched Hange’s.

Levi just sits down in the middle of a pivotal scene and where he might end up fighting any minute coz like what's life he literally lost everything he could have lived for.

Like sure people who don't think LeviHan is canon would say “He’s injured. He’s tired.” 

Just a few chapters ago though we got him ready to fight

 "That’s the last person left of course it would break him more than anything"

That's the point. They're complete opposites they've been together for years and even if the chemistry wasn't there before, even if they would never have gotten along at all, personality and logistics-wise, they were placed in a situation where their glue Erwin died, everything of the life they knew before, all their loved ones in the survey corps died and now they were left with the responsibility of managing what's left and being the only two people with a shared history.

That literally set up one of the best places for a fucking romance to bloom. Yet the war and the circumstances just made it so hard for them to act upon it yet somehow the manga and anime were peppered with this cool understanding of

Yo I want you.

like maybe when we retire let's keep in touch and I dunno have babies or something

But yeah yo we gotta fight.

Then Levi be like “Yeah babies be a good idea?” (Titans don’t love you. I love you.)

Death foreshadowing

Then Levi

Is

Fucking

Broken

Like we've never seen him before.

Wow isayama the madman didn't need to build this masterpiece of a relationship from love at first sight, to confessions, to placing them in unnatural situations for sexual tension.

He built a subtle relationship out of necessity, out of the need for some humanity in this dark world. Two people placed at the lead at the forefront of this war, willing to adjust, willing to change and work despite their differences because they needed that warmth, they needed the reminder that there exists happiness and hope in this world which transcends all that bullshit they have experienced to that point until her death.

I really wish I could experience that epiphany again with another couple.

I applaud the subtlety of this relationship and the natural development of one of the best ships I have experienced in a long while.

#levihan #levi x hanji #levi x hange #levi ackerman #hange zoë #hange zoe #hanji zoe #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #ship

[derivativealigner]

Well I haven’t watched sp all the way through for about a decade now, so I thought it was time

Sometimes I wonder how accurate the fandom is when it comes to how we interpret the characters. Like, why is Stan a football star so often in fanfic and why’s Kyle always the smart one? So I thought I’d rewatch the show and make notes along the way to see where the source of all these interpretations is. I also wanted to see if I could get some fun info to analyze, but season 1 is pretty sparse in that regard so there’s not too much of that in this post, but I’ll make a post for all the other seasons too as I watch them

In summary, it’s established in season 1 already that Stan’s a star quarterback and an animal lover, Kyle’s an A+ student, and Kenny is poor and knows a lot about sex and doesn’t have many qualms about doing crazy shit. Cartman is a bit weird since he’s mostly just a naive brat in this season, but he and Kyle have a mildly antagonistic friendship already

I have all my notes under this cut. They include a bunch of small details and other observations. I also listed every Kenny death just because

Ike has freckles

Cartman says “Weak!” and “You guys” and “Seriously” a lot from the start, also “Kickass!” He doesn’t say weak or kickass much in the later seasons iirc

Stan says “Dude, this is pretty fucked up right here” three times in this season but they dropped that catchphrase pretty quickly

Bebe got named in episode 2

Stan’s been an animal lover since s01e03 Volcano since he won’t shoot a bunny or anything else. He does shoot Scuzzlebutt at the end though

Cartman’s a pathological liar but in a childish way

Randy got named in s01e03 Volcano (and it only got worse from there)

The mayor went to Princeton

South Park is next to Mt. Evanson

Kenny will literally drink gasoline

Stan’s a star quarterback in 3rd grade

Clyde’s voice is wrong as hell in S01E04 Big Gay Al’s Big Gay Boat Ride and he has a dog, Rex

Garrison says Kyle is an A+ kid

Shelly seriously abuses Stan, punching him, throwing him, maiming him with a lawnmower

Cartman had a pot-bellied pig called Fluffy

Cartman’s mom smokes crack and has sex with strange men

Dr. Mephesto is probably a Buddhist since he says “Thank Buddha” instead of “Thank God”

Clyde’s voice gets kind of fixed in S01E06

A guy called Mr. McCormick is killed in a protest, launched and splattered against a network building. He doesn’t look like Kenny’s dad though

Zombie Clyde attacks Bebe, rude

Wendy gave her costume contest prize (2 tons of candy) to hungry children in Nairobi

Cartman’s mom is on the cover of Crack Whore magazine. “Back do’ ho… Five on one action!” is the headline

Cartman genuinely cries at Kenny’s grave after the whole zombie thing but gets over it because of candy

Stan knows his mom’s credit card number and has no problem using it to adopt an Ethiopian child (the boys wanted a watch that came with the adoption, they weren’t doing it to be nice)

Cartman calls Stan a vas deference, Stan doesn’t know what that is so Kenny says “Dude, it’s a pipe for your peepee” (according to a transcript). Kenny sure knows male anatomy

Kyle sniffs Kenny after Cartman asks why poor people smell like sour milk and Garrison says “idk eric they just do”

Cartman thinks poor people should die and decrease the surplus population

When the boys get Starvin’ Marvin delivered to them, Cartman says “Hey mom, we found an Ethiopian, can we keep him?” and his mom says “Sure, hun.” She rarely says no to Cartman

Kenny’s dad is an alcoholic who drinks scotch according to Cartman. I mean, Mr. McCormick is seen drinking in multiple episodes and has a hat that says SCOTCH so it’s probably true

Kenny’s family says grace

Craig’s first appearance is S01E09. Also, S01E09 is the first time Kenny doesn’t die (Coincidence? I THINK yeah but it’s still fun)

Clyde got named in S01E10

Clyde and Bebe both spit on Pip’s face, friendship goals <3

Cartman and Kyle have their first fight at Cartman’s birthday party because Kyle didn’t give the right gift. Cartman slaps his face and  screams “I hate you! I want you to die! Die!” while on top of Kyle who’s not really fighting back

Satan throws a fight with Jesus after everyone except Satan bet that Jesus would lose, which leads to Satan winning everyone’s money. Mr. Garrison says “What a mean thing to do!” and Jimbo says “He is a jerk!” and I thought it was quite a laugh so I wrote it down

In S01E11 Tom’s Rhinoplasty Bebe and Wendy are sitting in the swings together and generally appear together throughout the episode, then Bebe gives Wendy a makeover so they’re bffs obviously <3

Craig first appears in the classroom, though not sitting down, in S01E11

Wendy’s not happy about Ms. Ellen taking Stan away from her, she says “Don’t fuck with me! Stay away from my man, bitch, or I’ll whoop your sorry ho ass back to last year!”

Kenny gives Ms. Ellen a scrumptious looking sausage as a valentine’s gift and giggles deviously. Wendy’s gift to Ms. Ellen is a dead animal

Even Kenny doesn’t know what a lesbian is

Wendy’s grandma died in S01E11

Wendy gets Ms. Ellen killed by hiring the Iraqi government (?) to put her in a rocket and shoot it into the sun, then she and Bebe have a pool party (very cool, they wear sunglasses 😎) and watch the rocket hit the sun

Cartman and Pip play a game of kicking each other in the nuts until someone falls. Cartman calls it “Roshambo”

Kenny has a sack of marbles

The boys aren’t fans of Barbra Streisand, but Stan is a fan of the Denver Broncos quarterback John Elway (he’s not a quarterback anymore, he’s an American football executive and the president of football operations for the Denver Broncos of the NFL according to wikipedia.)

Officer Barbrady is a fan of Fiona Apple (who was 20 at the time and had only one album released called Tidal)

Ned knows how to pilot a helicopter

Kyle’s mom is a fan of Streisand unlike literally everyone else, she even gets an autograph from Mecha Streisand

The boys are fans of Robert Smith, the lead singer of The Cure. Stan says “Robert Smith is the greatest person that ever lived!” and Kyle says “Disintegration is the best album ever!” and Cartman says “Robert Smith kicks ass!” and Kenny’s dead so he doesn’t get to have an opinion

Cartman has tea parties with his toys: Polly Prissypants, Clyde frog, Peter Panda, and a dragon called Rumpertumskin

Kyle wants to make fun of Cartman for the tea party but Stan stops him because he’s concerned that Cartman needs help

Craig is in front of the school counselor’s office in S01E13

A young miss Cartman drinks like a motherfucker at the 12th annual drunken barn dance where Cartman was supposedly conceived

Stan lets Cartman borrow his bike like a good friend

Garrison wanted to have a threesome with Chef and Cartman’s mom. I don’t know why I’m making a note of this but uh… yeah.

Cartman’s mom has had sex with everyone at this bar that Garrison’s drinking at, including principle Victoria, the mayor, Father Maxi, and Jesus (and maybe Kenny’s dad since he’s at the bar but the camera doesn’t pan to him when Garrison says they’ve all slept with Liane). Later Gerald Broflovski is a possible father to Eric, so he fucked her too. Also Mr. Mephesto and his friend Kevin, that little guy, are candidates along with a lot of other people, including the 1989 Denver Broncos (and Mr. Tenorman is included in that later)

Cartman doesn’t make fun of Kyle for being Jewish much at all in this season even though the Christmas episode is all about Kyle not celebrating

Clyde and Token appear very early on and Clyde has always been in the classroom (along with Bebe, Red, Kevin Stoley, Wendy, and Pip and uhh DogPoo too I think). Craig appears later in the season and Tweek’s not in season 1 at all, so Craig’s gang isn’t really a thing yet

And here’s a list of the ways Kenny died in this season. He dies in every episode except episode 9, and he dies twice in episodes 2 and 3. Altogether he dies 14 times

S01E01 Killed after alien shoots him, cows stampede over him, then cop runs him over which finally actually kills him

S01E02 Killed in a play by a falling teepee, then a second time shot by Garrison which sends him in the air and he gets impaled on a flagpole on the way down

S01E03 Killed by a volcano rock that burns him then rolls on him but he’s alive again in the end but gets shot by Ned’s gun that he drops and it accidentally goes off

S01E04 Gets his arms and head torn off in an American football game

S01E05 Stan’s clone punches Kenny into a microwave where he gets cooked alive

S01E06 Death touches Kenny

S01E07 Kenny gets crushed by a Russian space station and turns into a zombie because he gets Worcestershire sauce in his veins, then Kyle chainsaws zombie Kenny in half, then zombie Kenny rises from his grave and is crushed by a statue and a plane

S01E08 Kenny is killed by a bunch of turkeys. His eye gets plucked out. It’s dark blue

S01E10 After Kenny gets turned into a duck-billed platypus, Jimbo and Ned shoot him

S01E11 Ms. Ellen throws a sword through Kenny’s face

S01E12 While Mecha Streisand and a giant robot Leonard Maltin fight, Kenny plays with a tetherball and gets the rope wrapped around his neck and it strangles him

S01E13 Kenny gets stuck on a go kart and it drags him around but stops and he’s still alive! Too bad the go kart stops on train tracks and a train runs him over. Stan’s grandpa sends a video of the event to America’s Stupidest Home Videos and wins $10,000

If you read all that, first of all hello. I’m not new to the fandom even though this is the first thing I’ve posted on this tumblr blog. I’ve been writing a fanfic called Caffetamine though so I’m not a complete non-entity. Anyway, I’ll watch season 2 soon and post my notes on that too probably.

#south park #sp rewatch #i made way too many notes #kenny used to get dialog in almost every episode #poor kenny #he really gets shafted later

[basicjetsetter]

Part II

♡ Pairing: Peter Parker x Black!FemaleReader

▹ Warnings: Language, Mentions of Death, Depression, Triggering Content, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt

▹ Words: 3k

▹ A/N: ATTENTION! This is an emotionally heavy part. Please DO NOT READ if you know you will be affected. For those struggling with depression, I see you, I care for you, and I love you. You’re not alone and you are undeniably worthy of love.

-Five Years and Twenty Nine Days Later-

You don’t want to get up.

Your phone’s alarm clock is rounding on its tenth circuit, if your counting is correct… and there’s a good chance you blanked out for fifteen minutes while watching a strip of sunlight lethargically inch down your blanket to the foot of the bed, so your number may be off by six or seven.

It’s not that you’re tired or anything, or maybe you are and that’s beside the point. It’s just that your bed is far too comfortable for your own good and you know today is Saturday, the busiest day at Hal’s Diner, and it just so happens you’re scheduled for an 8 a.m. to 2 p.m. brunch rush. If you had a choice, you’d stay in bed.

But you don’t. And you’re running twenty minutes late… for the fourth time in two weeks.

I’ve got you.

Shut the fuck up.

You wearily snarl, snatching your pillow out from under your head and slamming it against your face, uselessly stuffing it over your ears as if that would somehow miraculously block out the words. 

Usually, the voice stayed quiet. After three years of the repeated promise drifting around your brain like a lost ship at sea, you had finally figured out how to anchor it to the deepest, darkest, most unchartered recess of your mind. Every now and then, though, they’d find a way to rattle the chains, just to remind you of their eternal presence, but it never lasted long. You didn’t acknowledge them anymore. They no longer fooled you.

But, twenty-nine days ago, something reinvigorated the voice, giving them a renewed sense of purpose and a reason to break free.

Twenty-nine days ago, on the exact anniversary of their disappearance, everyone came back. 

Out of the blue, in the middle of the day, all of the people Earth mourned for five years reappeared to a very, very stunned world. Celebration rocked the streets of New York and all over the globe. Lovers lost returned. Mothers. Fathers. Sisters. Brothers. Babies. Friends. They all came back. And the voice in your head broke free of its chains, rampantly bouncing around your mind as if they were on pure steroids, ready to charge forward and find the one your Destined Words belonged to. 

Everything reverted back to normal.

Except, besides your newly released Destined Words, nothing changed for you.

You weren’t there when… when your best friend rematerialized in your previous apartment. You moved to a smaller, modestly priced place six blocks away. It was great for what little money you had, and your landlords, a lovely couple that always leaves you a present outside your door for Christmas and birthdays, were generous enough to accommodate for your lack of funds.

You just couldn’t keep your parents’ apartment. Not when you knew they weren’t coming back. 

No one ever speaks about the casualties of the ones lost that day, the ones who perished from the effects of the blip. For a long time, you just couldn’t cope with the fact that a swerving hit from a rogue truck whose driver turned to dust was all it took to take your parents away. But you had to move on.

Ever since that day five years ago, you’ve been on your own.

You’re sure your friend tried looking for you by now, continually calling up a retired cellphone number, searching through deleted social media accounts, maybe even asking your old high school for your whereabouts to no avail. Even though you’re not far from home, she’d never find you. 

You don’t want to be found. You like being alone.

With a great, gusty sigh, you roll out of bed, grab some clothes and undergarments, then pad to the bathroom, ignoring the chiming circuit of your alarm clock. It can wait. You go through the motions: washing up, putting your hair in its regular bun, brushing your teeth, and staring at your unaged face in the spotted mirror.

It’s not vanity, though it’s common knowledge that your features will be impervious to aging for a long while. You literally haven’t aged a single day since the blip.

It was an intriguing phenomenon after the first two years. Everyone your age who had heard their Destined Words but had yet to meet their Soulmate just stopped aging, and when the younger generation hit the age of eighteen, they stopped aging as well. For some, like you, the effect was felt rather than seen. Ever since the string inside you snapped, you knew that cosmic time would stand still until you connected with your other soul. You’re not holding your breath for that anytime soon.

As you step out of the steam-filled bathroom, your alarm blares out its last chime before switching to the Vmm Vmm Vmm of an incoming call.

You pick up on the sixth ring. “Good morning, Hal.”

“This is the fourth—”

“The fourth time. I know, I know. I’m on my way.”

Hal grunts into the receiver, “Don’t get smart with me, little lady. Just because you’re my best server doesn’t mean I won’t fire you.”

That’s precisely what that means, and he knows you know it. You blow out a sigh, “I’m seriously almost out the door. Like two steps.”

“Uh-huh,” he says, a hint of a grin in his quizzical noise. “Well, hightail it, would’ya? The joint’s packed already and I need all hands on deck, so scoot.”

“Scooting,” you confirm, snagging your bag off of your sofa and grabbing your keys. “Who’s with me today?” Please don’t say Wendy. Please don’t say Wendy.

“Chris and Wendy.”

You groan as you shut the door behind you. “Come on, Hal. She’s dead weight in the morning. I might as well be working with a zombie in an apron.”

Hal grumps, “At least the zombie gets here on time.”

“Have you had coffee yet? You’re not you when you’re decaffeinated.” It’s true. Even with your truancy, Hal wouldn’t hold it over your head more than twice. He’s usually as chipper as a dog in a dog park at this time, bustling and joking up a storm.

He takes a loud sip, then says, “We’re slammed, is all, and I’m missing my best hand.” Two disgruntled heys ring in the background and Hal immediately issues apologies. “Just get here, will ya?”

Before you can remind him again that you are on your way, he disconnects the call.

You’re wondering if it’s too late to go back to bed.

The little, infamous family diner is only seven blocks south of your apartment building, a nice walk when the weather’s good and a pain in the ass when it’s not. You used to enjoy the quiet mornings and the stillness that came with it, but ever since things went back to normal, you can’t survive the walk without a pair of headphones jammed in your ears and your music’s volume turned all the way up. Everyone’s just so… loud.

Thankfully, today, the walk is a straight shot and you’re in the doors within fifteen minutes.

It’s like stepping into a den full of ravenous animals. Worse, it’s like stepping into a den full of ravenous animals and being stuck with the task of serving them.

“Look who’s finally decided to show up,” Wendy chides, stifling a yawn as she shuffles to a table and places down three menus. She’s twenty-two years old and likes setting your teeth on edge.

You deadpan, “Did the cat drag you in from the front door or the back?”

“Knock it off, you two,” warns Chris, walking by with two arms balancing four plates of the Sunrise Breakfast Special. He looks at you, then jerks his chin back to the kitchen. “Boss is about to blow his top.”

Nodding, you make your way to the back, giving a small wave to some regulars. Out of breath and sweat running down his reddened neck, Hal is moving like a man caught in a whirlwind, flipping eggs and pancakes and sausages and hash browns and bacon while checking orders and filling plates. As soon as he hears the kitchen door close and sees you, he visibly sags in relief.

“Don’t bother clocking in. Just put your apron on and get out there.”

You nod. Set down your things. Put on your apron. Arrange a plastic smile.

Go through the motions.

It’s all the same thing every single day. Wake up, work, school, sleep. Repeat. Unlike the other constants, school is something you’re temporarily trying out. It wasn’t your original plan, the whole four years to a bachelor’s degree, then some more years for a master’s. You gave that up long ago. Right now, you’re just taking a free weekend art class at a community college. Oddly enough, it’s something you’re beginning to look forward to on Saturdays and Sundays.

Work, while you’re great at what you do, is never a highlight. 

Hal was right. The diner is slammed, and you’re swept up in the current of rude, demanding customers, snide remarks from Wendy, cheerful shrugs from Chris, and barking orders from Hal for six whole hours. You work through your two fifteen-minute breaks. No one reminds you. You slip on spilled hash browns. No one helps you. You bring back a plate three times to satisfy a customer who kept finding fault with their eggs. No one thanks you.

Everything is back to normal.

I’ve got you.

“Fuck off,” you snap, slapping a hand to your mouth when you see the elderly woman you’re serving knit her brows in revulsion. “Oh, no, ma’am. I’m-I’m sorry, I was—”

She stands and marches out of the diner before you could explain, snatching her ten-dollar tip off the table.

“… talking to myself,” you finish under your breath.

She’s the last of the brunch rush, leaving only the regular afternoon crowd and a few stragglers. The clock near the cash register reads 2:13 p.m.

You brush off the disappointment of a lost tip and head to the kitchen to grab your things and leave, Chris and Wendy following you. Hal’s two other workers, the ones here till closing, cover the floor well. Not like they had much to do.

Hal is whistling a jaunty tune when you walk in, stopping to salute you, Chris, and Wendy with an exhausted grin. “Nice work out there, you guys. See you tomorrow.”

Wendy is out the door the instant she clocks out.

Chris catches your arm as you grab your bag from your small locker. “Hey, um, I sort of heard your little outburst, and I was wondering if you were okay.”

You nod, gently shrugging his hand off. “Yeah, it’s just a tip. I made enough.”

“No, not that,” he shakes his head, clearing his throat and pushing a hand through his choppy beach-blond hair. He ineptly bends his head down a little, getting close enough for a private conversation you do not want to have. “It’s just… you’ve done that before and I just want to make sure everything’s alright with you.”

You can’t put the plastic smile back on, he’s seen it too many times to know it’s not real, so you half-heartedly grin. “I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

“Yeah, anytime. Hey, so, me and a couple friends are hanging out tonight. There’s gonna be a music festival in Cunningham Park. Wanna hang?”

Chris tries this every week. At first, you thought it was his bashful attempt at asking you out, but he’s a happily taken man with a big heart and a lot of friends. Every customer he meets, boom, they’re friends and soon loyal customers of Hal’s. It’s a gift. You just wish he caught your not-so-subtle hints of evasion.

Tonight, though, you had the perfect excuse. “Can’t. I got class.”

He tilts his head in confusion. “On a Saturday night?”

“Yeah. It’s a free course. Get it where I can take it, you know,” you awkwardly laugh, hoping Chris wasn’t offended as you take a couple of steps back towards the exit.

His smile doesn’t falter. “Maybe next time, then.”

Not likely. “Sure, yeah. See you later.”

You duck out before he says goodbye, dashing out the front door and speed-walking home.

I’ve got you.

I’ve got you.

I’ve got you.

You stop dead in the middle of a sidewalk.

Where did that come from? It’s never said it three times in a row before. Does… does that mean something?

Your breath quickens at the thought, and you spin around, scanning the vacant street. You’re the only one occupying the sidewalk, you and a curious squirrel sniffing at the crisp air. There’s not a person in sight. When you’re certain you’re in the clear, pivoting a glance around one more time for good measure, you pick up the pace, practically running the rest of the way home.

Once you’re in your apartment and the door shuts, you desperately whisper to your mind, “Don’t say it anymore. I don’t want them, okay? I don’t want a Soulmate.”

Nothing.

“I know you hear me,” you bite out aloud, forcefully shoving back the urge to yell. “Stop saying the words.”

Still nothing.

Silence rings hollow in your mind like the voice is waiting for your temper to cool down. Like it knew it upset you and felt chastened enough to back off and take a time out in a corner.

You stand immobile in the middle of your cramped sitting area. Tense. Waiting. Waiting longer than you care to admit. The urge to fight deserts you as quick as it comes, but you’re still standing there with your fists balled up, feeling more and more defeated as the minutes drain away.

The voice isn’t going to leave you alone. You know that. It’s here to serve one purpose, and the only thing holding it up is you. You’re meant to meet whoever those words belong to… but then what? They magically fix you? They love you back to normal? Five years ago, you may have believed they can do that. But, the problem is, you’ve gone through enough life-altering events in the last five years to last you a lifetime, and this one person, this person destined to pair with your soul, won’t be your wave-of-a-wand solution.

You just want it to stop.

I’ve got you.

A lone tear slides down your cheek as you trek to your bed and climb in fully clothed.

For a long time, you simply stare up at the ceiling as the tears leak out the corners of your eyes. You make no noise, and your chest doesn’t jerk up and down with sobs. The tears gather, and then they fall. Gather and fall. Gather and fall until there are no tears left. You continue staring at the ceiling.

You think back to the days when those godforsaken words and the future they foretold brought you happiness. What a wonderful promise, pairing with someone who will always be there for you in some capacity and will instantly love you. You can’t recall any Soulmate story not working out. Maybe they just never speak about it. Why mar the fantasy?

The sun dipped below the horizon a while ago, and now the moon shines bright in the night sky. You missed your art class.

Your body is as stiff as a board when you sit up. There’s a tight pounding in your forehead, either from crying or lack of food, but you aren’t bothered enough to deal with it. Instead, you move to the only window in your room and pull back the curtains to gaze at the stars. Not many are out yet, but they glitter like gems around the moon, and the night sky nears a lovely shade of midnight blue.

The sight is so pretty; you find yourself grabbing a couple of paint bottles, brushes, and a small canvass, then heading out of your apartment, walking up six flights of stairs to reach the roof.

It’s quiet when you get up there, save for the noise of zooming cars below. The first time you came up on the roof, just out of curiosity, you loved how solitary it felt, loved the view overlooking the building-strewn skyline and the overall height of the complex. It became a nice place to visit when you wanted to be by yourself.

You walk over to the edge of the building, sitting your supplies down on the ledge, then look up at the sky for the best angle to capture the moon and the stars.

The sky is vast. So endless. So open. So free. You stop scoping out for the perfect angle and just admire the shining moon when your eyes land on it. It’s waning, only a sliver of its surface visible as it prepares to transition into a New Moon. Then you gaze at the stars as they dimly twinkle back at you… like they can see right through you.

Like they can see your sadness.

You step closer to the ledge, each step laden with the weight of smothered grief. You lost everyone. Your parents. Manda. She’d never recognize the person you’ve become.

You step onto the ledge, not looking down but up, trying to memorize the image.

You lost your Soulmate. That broken string in your chest never felt the same, even after everyone came back. Maybe you were too far gone for any connection.

You turn around. You’d thought you’d feel numb, but acceptance fills you. It’s okay to let go.

You lower your eyes, slowly lean back, and let gravity take over.

Air sails past your ears in a rush as you fall, and you can’t really focus on anything except your erratic heartbeat. You don’t struggle as your body wants. You just fall and wait.

And then, in a sudden flash of red and blue, you’re propelling sideways and swinging upwards, a strong arm pressing you against a hard chest.

“I’ve got you.”

As soon as he said the words, you knew who they belonged to, as if you knew this entire time. Even with the mask covering his face, you knew. But it still doesn’t stop you from incredulously saying, “Peter?”

His masked face snaps to yours. A small part of you tries to pin his surprise on you correctly guessing his identity, but something bigger assures you the reason for his alarm is a match to your own.

He knows you’re his Soulmate.

...

Part III

#peter parker #peter parker au #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x #peter parker soulmate au #soulmate au #spider-man x reader #spider-man x black!reader #marvel fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker angst #slow burn #black!reader

[frecklef0x]

Mass Effect 1: Playthrough Masterpost

At last, I have finished Mass Effect 1!

I have heard some mutuals say they wish they could play it again for the first time, and you kind of can--through me! I’ve been posting little “episodes” of live-tweet-stream-of-consciousness as I play, and now I’ve compiled them into one post to make my life easier.

Anyway, here’s the first one, the rest are under the cut. :)

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode one

My ass looks great in this uniform, first of all

Impaled robo zombies, yikes

Cheap shot, Saren, smh. How will I pass my spectre test now?!

Why does he have robot eyes? Is he like, Geth-Turian? Why? Is he a robo zombie also? Was it the beacon???

Cool beacon nightmares, I'm sure this is fine

This Kaiden guy has implants? ORTEGA?!??!?

"Call me princess again and you'll be picking your teeth up off the floor" lol obliterated

The citadel elevators are very realistic, five minutes of tense silence huh

Ya girl got a PROMOTION and a DOPE SQUAD time to catch a TRAITOR

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode two

First things first, gotta go find the blue scientist to join the gang

This galaxy is HUGE! How many of these places will I actually be able to go?!

Only two friends at a time????? D:

Ah, a distress signal, let's see wha--A DESERT CENTIPEDE NOPE ABORT ABORT

Robo aliens? In MY Theronian mining facility? Its more likely than you think

Running over dudes in my Mako is extremely satisfying tbh

*runs over geth troopers* *runs over geth armature* *runs over geth colossus* ... *backs over geth colossus*

Working elevators in the ancient ruins ✔

Oooooooh man hope this nerd is gay

Wrex, a friend of yours? Nope, not a friend, too murdery

"ShAaaAame about the ruins Shep, sOooOo much collatoral damage, SHEP" stfu Council, "ruthless" was in the resume when you promoted us, 10/10 would shoot lasers through archeological digs again

When Kaiden calls us "ma'am" I am, uh, into it

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode three

Time to talk to the gang! Gotta meet the fam proper

Oh dear seems we got a shmee of racism on board, compatriots

Wow Raina, good foot-in-mouth moment with Wrex there huh...sorry about the eventual extinction of your race, lost this round of Pain Olympics

OH SHIT OH SHIT BLUE HOTTIE BIGENDER? THIS IS NOT A DRILL???

“hi I’m Kaiden wanna hear about my last crush ;)” “hi I’m Liara wanna hear about Asari mating rituals? ;)))” damn we really slidin right into the DMs no chill

Garrus: fuck rules and red tape amiright Raina: oh u right ;)

Guess I’ll actually do a mission now LETS GO LESBIANS LETS GO

Honestly rolling out with Tali and Liara is a mood, squad goals

Raina @ every corporation on Noveria: I would sell you to satan for one(1) corn chip

This reactivation puzzle is some shit

I see some Mistakes were made

We already killing moms at this stage damn BioWare

FUCK FUCK BENEZIA KILLED ME AND I LOST A FUCKTON OF PLAYTIME

THERES LIKE NO AUTOSAVE IN THIS BITCH FUUUUUUUUU

fuck fuck fuck god damn it gotta shoot a bunch of deranged baby bug people again god DAMN IT

Okay we killed Liara’s mom in front of her hope that’s fine

And we let mama bug go free because after talking to Wrex, Raina’s like “this galaxy is a little trigger happy with the genocide, good luck out there bug mama ❤️ be cool please”

I have literally watched the scientist in the hot labs get killed three times now

So far the debreifs with the council have not gone very well

“You let bug mama go?! How many generations until they take over everything???” “My money’s on two :D Place your bets now assholes or stfu :DDD”

Asked Liara if she was okay and she seems pretty Cool With It

I hope to one day return to Noveria and Death Star it into oblivion

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode four

Talked with Tali and this situation with the Geth and the Quarians is giving me an existential crisis

You “inspect” my beautiful ship? You got somethin’ to say about my crew??? Talk shit get hit, bitch I will kill you

Yoooo my old earth gang, yeah what the hell, I’ll help ou—oh nope nvm he’s a xenophobe, you hang him and I’ll shoot his friend in the face, thx for your time

Went to the citadel to finish some assignments, left tasked with twice as many

“dOn’T cUt CoRneRs” fear not dear Kaiden, I have a permit: this piece of paper that says I do what I want

Still with the elevators, I really cannot with this

“You make it all sound so...dangerous...” ;) ;))))))

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode five

Headin’ to Virmire to rendezvous with the Salarian team

A cure for the genophase?!?!?! :D

Oh wait oh no are we for real gonna talk about destroying the cure like Wrex isn’t standing right here omg

SHIT GUYS NO NOT LIKE THIS WREX PLEASE

Phew for a conversation that basically started with guns drawn, it went pretty well... “What Saren has isn’t even a proper cure, he’s just fucking with the Krogans at this point. Are we gonna stand for that? Or are we gonna murder?” “Damn Shep, you right, we gon’ murder”

Okay Ashley, go join the aliens, try not to die

Shadow Team!🎵 tearing through the base 🎶 disabling all the     defenses 🎵 (you gotta sing it to the tune of the Trogdor song)

We free the prisoners!!! :)

We shoot the prisoners??? :(

“Raina? How can you shoot them where they stand?” So it’s more merciful to let them explode? NAH FAM

This scientist is responsible for the mind control stuff? For Benezia? Fine     I’ll let her go but I hope she explodes

We did not learn our lesson concerning beacons I see

Wait if even Saren is worried about his mind control ship does that mean there are larger forces involved here?

Oh. Oh fuck

Ugh Ashley I EXPLICITLY TOLD YOU NOT TO DIE

(so we really never found any info about that genophase cure huh? disappointing)

Oh Seren, you dumb dumb. You absolute fool. Clown man.

When Raina slings Kaiden over her shoulder to carry him to the ship—mmmmmmmmwoooow I am very bisexual

Bruh Raina takes every council call and she disconnects pissed off every time

WAIT I literally just hung up with the council, ASHLEY is DEAD, and Kaiden needs a DTR RIGHT NOW?!?!? Boy, NO, READ THE ROOM

This has been a stressful day

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode six

Shepard will avoid her feelings and go to Faros instead

Seeing Ashley’s figure greyed out and her locker inaccessible makes me sad

Wrex and Garrus, let’s go shoot some geth 💪 

A mind controlling planet—of course!

Shep gets all her renegade points shooting capitalists

Saved, uh, about half the colonists

If I have one more bad acid trip I stg

Oh nope here’s another one

Shep needs a nap

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode seven

Ah, the council. Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal.

At least Liara is good at pep talks ;)

Joker, you cockblock

Haha DUDE we airborne, you THOUGHT

Now that I am exiled from the Citadel, guess I’ll run some galactic errands:

o   Killed corporate scientists who though we would rescue them lol

o   Destroyed a bunch of geth camps helping Tali on her pilgrimage

o   Disabled a nuke and killed some pirates

o   Shut down some evil Cerberus experiments

o   And illegally traded information!

Okay time to get back on track

So we may or may not be flying to our doom

OH GOD LIARA LOVES ME!!! RAINA, YOU DISASTER, YOU DID IT AAAAAH ❤️❤️❤️

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode eight

You know what I love? Being murdered by geth armatures

All these Ilos ruins be looking the same

Security panel is only kinda helpful

Oh, luckily I know Prothean now!

“CANNOT BE STOPPED” wow very encouraging, thanks

After that super motivating message and disabling security, its time to go down, down to goblin town

Vigil? Oh word?

My girlfriend is GEEKING out

I knew something what wrong with that fucking Citadel

Vigil: information is power. Also Vigil: What does it matter why they do what they do? All that matters is you stop them

“non-essential” personnel die first, huh? GROSS, VIGIL (gotta be honest that hits different in 2020)

Garrus gets it, I knew we liked that guy

Okay, find conduit, save galaxy, break millennium-old genocide cyle, nbd

Ugh Mako you gotta do me dirty one last time I see, I hate this thing

THE CONDUIT STRAIGHT YEETED MAKO

The citadel robot says we’re doomed : )

This shootout is SO fun, seriously

Saren get it toGETHER

Renegade Raina can kill with a conversation apparently, well done then

Concentrate on the Sovereign—why am I gonna save a council that hates my guts, sorry, but I have a JOB to DO that you ACTIVELY HINDERED

Great, zombie husk Saren, just what I needed as I mull over the possible consequences of my galaxy-altering decision

GO JOKER GO

Humanity-only council seems…questionable. Raina didn’t love the council but this sits wrong. Couldn’t we just appoint a more diverse council, including a human?

Anderson seems like a good enough dude, so…we’ll see.

TIME FOR WAR BOYS, GODDAMN WHAT A GAME

#thirteen years late to the party but boy i am HERE NOW #I crushed ME2 in a weekend so they are not in episodes but I will post that hot mess soon #I have so many feelings #if anyone wants to talk about their shepards message me because I am so down #I haven't played ME3 yet so no spoilers pls #raina shepard #mass effect 1 #frecklef0x plays mass effect #Mass Effect #mass effect trilogy #mass effect playthrough #mass effect shepard #frecklef0x #me1 #garrus vakarian #liara t'soni #tali'zorah #kaiden alenko #urdnot wrex #mass effect joker #the normandy

[mor-beck-more-problems]

Death Rings Twice || Morgan and Eilidh

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @braindeacl @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: While searching for answers, Morgan and Eilidh realize the situation is worse than they realized.

CONTAINS: conversations with dead people

They came and went in waves. The first time, only the first time, Eilidh believed them to be just a part of being a ghost. James had done so many times—go in and out of view like the watts on a bulb. But those changes had been consensual, come upon by his own will, and he never truly left. Not like she had, and did, and still do. Moments of nothingness. Blink and she was gone, truly and ultimately gone. Blink and she was back, not even left with a memory. Just a faint recollection, a faint feeling of a blank. Like trying to recall a blackout. You knew it was there, you felt it too—pages torn from a book. But you also didn’t, couldn’t, for nothingness was all that remained. Nothingness that seemed to be her destination. Those blinks got longer, longer, longer. With no sign of slowing.

Eilidh knew Morgan was facing her own bouts of strangeness. Maybe they were connected. Morgan believed them to be—magic set loose like a wildfire, with them in its path. Consumed in its flames, would it burn them all the way to the ground? Or would they come out the other side, for the better? This curiosity, and a gnawing worry, compelled her forward, right into Morgan’s residence. She ventured through those great and winding halls, as if she already haunted the place. She ought to haunt at least one. Before it became too late. Passing by an open door, that familiar face was finally seen. Eilidh stopped, stared. Felt that nothingness threatening to claim her again. Visage flickered—like a light on its dying breath. But the feeling passed, leaving her there, shining on. The motion, or her very presence, must’ve caused a stir. The two women met each other’s eyes.

“Boo.”

Morgan just needed to find the right book. Zombies had been around for ages and so even if whatever was happening to her was obviously very rare, it must have happened to someone else before. And that someone must have wanted to write it down. Because magic directly affecting a zombie body at all was worth writing about; doing so in this cruel, backwards way defied everything she understood about magic and living matter. So, Morgan sat on the floor in the library, swimming through a large haul from the scriberary, searching. When Macleod appeared behind the volume she was holding, calling boo, Morgan yelped with surprise.

“Oh! Stars! That was--” she laughed uneasily. “That was something alright.” She sat back and looked at the other woman. She had believed everything Macleod had told her but seeing her friend, so wild and earthbound, so connected to her flesh, floating and transparent was uncanny in a way her mind struggled to process. “I wish I had good news on the funky magic boogaloo front, but there’s just lots of dead ends so far. But that can wait. Are you...okay? At least, relative to our situation?

Good-hearted chuckle lept out of Eilidh—breaking the illusion of the spooky ghost in the corner. She closed the distance between the two, eyes curiously scanning the cover and pages of the book nestled in Morgan’s lap. More were strewn across the room, circling Morgan in a protective barrier, or perhaps a tomb—either for future study or determined unsuited. Where one group ended and the other began, she wasn’t sure. Mouth parted to offer assistance, her hands and mind well-versed to such a skill, but the words quickly died just as her flesh had. Wouldn’t be much use when turning a page was a difficult endeavor. She had learned that fact rather quickly.

When attentions were placed on her, Eilidh perked. “Aye. Convinced this guy his cereal was sentient. And some lady she could control plants.” Snort of delight shot out her nose as their faces returned to memory. But as the chuckles faded, so too did this delight. That lingering worry remained. A hand brushed her lips, seemingly in thought. “Also…” In absence of external stimuli, she bit on a knuckle. But where a prick of sensation, a prick of life, would usually awaken her hand, only a mere acknowledgement greeted her. Fucking hell, how has James not gone mad by now? A low growl rumbled, and at least it felt nice in her chest. Familiar. “Been going in and out. Kinda like blinking. If you did that with a soul. James says it isn’t normal. And they’re getting longer.” Another knuckle met her teeth; that same hollow impact replayed. “Guess it’s soon time.” Her eyes scanned Morgan, transferring the focus back to the other woman. Wandering gaze found the darkness under her friend’s eyes. “What ‘bout you?”

For what seemed like a long time, Morgan could only stare at her friend. Or rather, through her friend. She could see every title on the shelf behind her if she concentrated enough, because Macleod, despite speaking and smiling and grinning and mischief-ing as much as she had ever done, was incorporeal and transparent. Like a ghost. A baby undead ghost. Which wasn’t supposed to exist. “..Blinking? What? Uh, that sounds bad. And weird. I’ve never heard of ghosts doing that before. They cross over, and they have some kind of teleportation thing, but they don’t play peek-a-boo with a whole plane of existence. That’s…” Another very strange, logic defying twist of magic.

Morgan cleared her head and tried to answer Macleod’s questions. “I woke up at the beginning of the week able to feel again. All my physical senses that went dull were back. It took some adjusting, but I think it was more or less how they were when I was alive. But then my body started decaying even when I was full, or more than full, and healing was fading and now it’s basically gone! So I’m basically rotting away for no discernable reason, and I get to be super physically aware of all of it. Also, I smell, so maybe it’s a good thing you don’t have any senses right now. When did your stuff start? I mean, none of this should be happening at all, because the undead are immune to spellcasting magic that engages with our body’s energy, as far as I can tell, and we’re immune to most drugs and toxins, and I haven’t found anyone else in town being effected like this, so it’s not the big cosmic town bullshit--but if we can get a timeline, maybe that will tell us...something.” She sighed and closed the book in her lap, staring off into anywhere but Macleod’s face. The whole world was slipping through their fingers, just when she’d thought it really did want them after all.

Curt laugh escaped Eilidh. “Yeah. You’re telling me.” Just her luck to be subjected to the worst game of peek-a-boo in existence. Maybe her soul truly did want to pass over, but this supposed magic was keeping her here? Maybe the universe was trying to remedy the fact she shouldn’t have remained—at least not in this form—but the magic tried to go against the very will of the cosmos? Thoughts followed that tangent until it caused a dizziness. Bah, there’s too many maybes and what-ifs. She snapped a finger, sharp noise bringing her back to the present. Mind focused on Morgan’s words, her own story. As such a tale unfolded, her face fell, allowing that worry bubbling inside to find itself in her eyes, her parted mouth. Just as quickly, her eyes tightened, mouth closed, jaws tightened. Resolve overcame the worry, gave her goal new fire. “Aye. That is real bad.” Especially when it started so promising—the worst kind. “Best we hop to it prompto, then. Know anything I can look over? Double-check? Triple-check?” The ways of magic, the ways others shifted the energies of the world to their will, was not a strong subject of hers. But perhaps there were other pieces of the puzzle her ever inquisitive eyes could find. She needed that hunt, after all. Needed something to do—when all things physical brought boredom at best, her mind frequently rushed into restlessness.

Eilidh recalled the start of this plight. “I died beginning of this week.” The same as Morgan’s own unfortunes; a fact that did not escape her. “Or alchemied this way. Or some other magic.” At this point, she wasn’t sure which was true. Death was more reasonable to her. Familiarity always felt more reasonable, and she was very familiar with death. But Morgan seemed convinced its cause was magically induced and, well, she was the expert in that regard. Not Eilidh. “Blinked out the first time a few days later. Didn’t think too much of it. ‘Til a few more days later when it kept happening.” How much longer would this affliction let her speak with Morgan? Would it rip her away mid-sentence, as it had with Milo? Sharp snap of fingers returned. Temptation to bite the nagging thoughts away surfaced—to subject another knuckle to her teeth. But the snap sufficed. For now.

Morgan sat back, thinking. The town had already been shifted in the cosmos by the time she and Macleod were affected. And no one else she spoke to, dead or undead, was feeling anything strange in their body. So why them? And how? It didn’t seem right that the universe should literally change its rules just to be cruel to them. And if an alchemy break-through was responsible for Macleod, it didn’t explain her progressive deterioration. She would have to be confined to a circle in order for that to be the case, and the energy required to continually re-write her body would be outrageous.

She looked over at Macleod, aching to give her an answer. “I only have a few general compendiums on the stuff, but maybe there’s some kind of sickness, or some kind of critter that can affect people like us. Like, bookwyrms and brain biters mess with people’s brains, and there’s plenty of necrophages out there maybe…” Some magic, universe defying critter happened to chomp on both of them without their noticing on the exact same night? Morgan could hardly stand to hope for the idea, it sounded ridiculous enough in her head. But she had to try. If she stopped trying, this thing would take her. “Maybe there’s one that can explain this. Weird abilities that make people incorporeal or mess with their magic composition. Um, it’s those thick ones back there--” She pointed. “Or you could check out the area, see if anything unusual is sniffing around. Every critter’s gotta eat and sleep somewhere.” She smiled feebly. “We’ll figure this out before it’s too late. We’ve got too much to live for, right?”

“Critters!” The word shot out like a bullet. That was more Eilidh’s forte. A hand returned thoughtfully to her lips, though a bite did not come. Her mind was moving far too fast to focus on anything physical. Feet began to pace without her knowledge, beating against the air as if they contributed to her movements anymore. “Those bees cause hallucinations…” What were they called again? Those dick-hive bees. She had still yet to encounter them personally—such a treat will have to wait when she finally visits… that woman. Knowledge was acquired specifically for said venture, so she really should remember… “Eintykara.” But as research came tumbling back into her mind, so did an issue. “No. Cold.” Such weathers would cause them to grow sluggish—springing into action now would make no sense. “Hm. Caballi?” Her encounter with one had been very brief, but James’ was much more intimate. And she had certainly heard stories that mimicked their own. Of ghosts being attacked by them. Or more accurately, being fed upon by them. Could be the cause of their deterioration, those astral feedings. Perhaps they can affect zombies too? “But never saw…” They weren’t exactly invisible, to people like them. But much of them was left unknown, on this world at least. Could be a special sort?

More ideas flowed into Eilidh’s mind. And just easily flowed back out—conflictions and contradictions found in every sort. Though the universe was vast and wide and full of exceptions. Hardly anything could be said with certainty. And hardly everything was stored in her mind—that vastness refusing to be contained in just one thing. Or even in one world; creatures not found in any book had laid just beyond those cracks in the air. One, or two, or more could’ve slipped through. “You could be onto something.” Her feet stilled, and it was only then she realized she had been on the move at all. But they already missed that constant motion. Focus turned to the mentioned books, causing a chuckle to stir. “Would. But these guys do whatever the hell they want.” She wiggled her fingers and they blended and meddled together, like waves crashing into each other. “I’ll look ‘round. You focus on the books. We’ll see this through.” There was an attempt to turn and leave, but something held her there just a moment longer. Those hints of decay sprinkled on Morgan’s form—some grown worse over the course of their conversation. “Think you’ll manage?” The question spanning far beyond just Morgan’s research capability.

With the way Macleod lit up at the suggestion, Morgan could actually start to believe they were onto something. The world was full of strange things and there was so much they didn’t know. Of course if it wasn’t someone it had to be something. Maybe even a creature from another dimension. Some of the critters in those portals had probably gotten stuck on this side when Adam closed them, too, and maybe that was why they couldn’t understand the rules this infection worked on.

Morgan met Macleod’s eyes bravely. They were looking for a needle in a haystack. It might take weeks to comb through all of White Crest and identify the exact creatures they were looking for, especially if they turned out to be beyond sapient record on this world. But they would figure it out, wouldn’t they?

Somewhere beyond them, bewildered geese flapped their way to the sky and called to each other for safety, snow crunched under tired feet, a wind blew through the hollow tunnels of the world. Morgan took it all in, staring through the frosted windows. This was a world that buried its secrets better than its dead, but it was also one where life persisted in the most bitter cold. If anyone was proof of that, surely it was her and Macleod. And Morgan had a future to get to; Macleod probably did too, and if she didn’t, she deserved to stick around long enough to come up with one. So she had to be okay. There wasn’t room in this scenario for her not to be.

Morgan summoned her best smile and hoped with all she had that Macleod believed it and let some of the warmth rub off on her. “I’ve got this. And so do you. Death cut us a break once, right? Twice should be just as easy.”

That smile filled the air, found its way on Eilidh’s face, lifting her spirits in turn. Hell yeah. They had this. That implication hung in the air, threatened to bring it all back down. The one where she died. This soul she carried certainly had—will again. And technically death had touched her a few days prior. But the implication ran deeper than that, tied her to an assumption she kept getting chained to. But she did not let that weight touch her; only a twitch of a brow, a tighten of lips, betrayed these thoughts. Resolve kept her steady—kept them both just the same. Fate may try to give them a losing hand, but she’ll keep playing until a full house. And if not, well, seems she’s had her time then. Her soul will enjoy more, if these pesky blinks didn’t consume her in totality. For fate was hungry this week—eating away at her very soul, at Morgan’s very flesh. Was it feeding on others? How far did this hunger spread? She had no mind, no time to worry about passerbyers on the street. Those teeth readied to pierce again, steal more of them away. But she’ll try her hand at dentistry and rip them out before all was taken. “Good to hear! Let’s give this a–”

She vanished.

#wr eilidh #wr chatzy #wr eilidh chatzy #death rings twice

[werezmastarbucks]

boston

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 2538

music: savage streets by perturbator, you’ll only be safe with me by tuff turf, dark all day by gunship

You stood on one knee, feeling Kai’s fingers under your belt as he held you. You shoved out of the window half way, and yelled,

“I’m good!”

He pushed the gas pedal into the floor, and the car roared angrily, tearing through the night mist.

The black shadows surrounded you, floating out of the metal and brick twilight of the street so suddenly fear shot through you like lightning. You held up your shotgun and aimed, trying to balance with your hip on the frame of the window. Falling out of the window would mean imminent death: zombies were everywhere. They were waiting on the corners, in the windows of the buildings, hiding in the shade, behind the smelly dumpsters and in the middle of the road. As the city lights died out, and the car raced deeper into the district, golden and silver changed into cold blue and electric, the colors of docks and warehouses.

“I got them!”

“Shoot!” Kai yelled.

You exhaled and did not inhale, because the best snipers don’t breathe when shooting. As the monster truck passed by the cluster of black silhouettes, you fired three rounds into them, scaring the gathering and hitting one of them. Then you fell back into your seat and pulled your hair away from your face. It will be a bitch to try and brush after. The car drove out into the narrow quay where black water lay like glistening dirty skin, and Kai’s face was yellow in the passing bleak lights.

“What the hell is that?” he asked, poiting at the figure on the roof on the left. He slowed down a little, and you looked back to make sure nobody’s following you. You set the shotgun on your right.

“It’s Jeepers Creepers”.

“Wha... Y/N. What is Jeepers fucking Creepers doing at our zombie apocalypse?”

“I don’t know, Kai”, you snarled, “maybe he launched it. How am I supposed to know?”

“You’re driving me crazy”.

“I am afraid of Jeepers Creepers, okay? He’s gonna be the final boss”.

“I’m gonna tear his balls off”, Kai mumbled.

“He’ll take yours. That’s what he does”, you reminded him.

Kai snored.

“Get up. There’s more. They must have circled the parking lot. Look”.

Right in the middle of the road, where yellow fog was floating in the air like phantom veil, and the asphalt glistened, sweaty after 10PM rain, the black shadows barricaded the road. Kai stopped the car, and the low grumble slowly faded into the quiet, monotnous howl of the city. Somewhere, trains were moving to and fro on the rails, colliding with each other, creating noise. The factories were working, sending black smoke into the opaque sky, clogged by unwilling cigarrette clouds. The river itself, it seemed, hummed something very low, like a deadly lullaby. This world was a hostile and lonesome place. The only warm thing in here was Kai’s body sitting next to you, radiating humanity. You jerked your shotgun. You knew he was seeing exactly the same thing as you did - a bunch of zombies swaying slowly in your direction. He turned up the music a little.

“Ready?”

“Yeah”.

“Aim better or else we’re gonna drive in circles all night”.

“Don’t tell me how to kill zombies, Kai”.

He mimicked you, starting the car.

Next night, it was his turn, and you did the same thing, racing through the night city, crashing into cardbox fortresses and blowing up the glass forts, shooting the heads off the zombies, until you both have had enough of that zombie apocalypse world. It has been some time until you got tired.

(To get into the right mood, you have occupied the Columbus Movie Theatre for like a week, rewatching zombie movies. Turned out, you can’t just walk into a movie theatre and find all the zombie films piled up neatly in the movie room - or whatever it’s called. You have argued about them again and again, Kai insisting on Evil Dead being immortal classic, but the Day of the Dead was his all-time favorite. You nearly got into a fistfight with him over the Return of the Living Dead.

“Of course”, he puffed and laughed out, condescending as hell.

“What’s that laugh?!” you demanded. Kai shrugged.

“It’s such a girly thing. Return of the Living Dead. The third part is also your favorite, isn’t it?”

And he gave you the nastiest look. You narrowed your eyes.

“You bigot. You absolute fuckface. The first one is my favorite”.

He was enjoying himself too much, obviously agitated by the topic, not entirely there.

“Okay, okay”.

“But for the record, yes, I do think that the third part is the best love story I’ve ever seen on screen. It’s incredible”.

Kai nodded, the smile never leaving his face.

“She managed to fight off her cannibalistic instinct not to hurt the person she loved. She tore herself with needles and hooks to fight the urge to kill him and actually managed to keep him safe although she was literally a flesh eating zombie. How cool is that?”

Kai sighed and looked you in the eye.

“Very cool’, he said, with the tone that screamed ‘you’re silly and I adore you’.

“What other movies came out this year?”

“Not many, it’s only May”, he replied, digging deep into the box with films.

“Is Dream Lover out yet?”

“Yep”.

“We should watch it”.

“Later”, Kai said, throwing a film across the room and allowing it to crash into pieces. You hoped to hell it wasn’t Dream Lover.

“And Freddie Krueger?”

“No, not yet”.

“Damn it”, you looked over his shoulder.

“No Freddie Krueger!” he announced, “that’s it, she draws the line at Freddie. We’re leaving now”.

You laughed.

In the dark movie room, you could choose any row, any seats. You nested against each other, honoring the sacred cinema theatre tradition to gently touch in the twilight. While the action unfolded on screen, you had to shove popcorn into Kai’s mouth because it was the only way you could make him stop talking. When you ran out of popcorn, you had to shut him up with your mouth. It was a great week.)

You looked around the street and then, at Kai. How lucky he was, to find himself in this wretched place with someone as willing to play zombies as you were. You should do it more often. Maybe you should act out Mist next, somewhere in Houston.

You pulled your backpack up, and your eyes darted towards the black tower, ominous, insidious without any light, like a gigantic grave stone. Before Parker cut all the electricity, it was the Hancock Tower, now, it was just Tower. And the path to it lay through the dangerous city filled with brain craving monsters, bloodthirsty, dumb and ferocious, and you were running out of bullets. Besides, earlier on, you fell through one of the cardboard box forteresses and bruised your knee so badly, together with your left hand which you landed on. This adventure would be the death of you.

Kai twitched.

“I hear something”, he said, cocking his gun. You stood behind him, one-handed, unable to shoot. You closed your eyes. Lo, if they attack from all directions, you won’t be any help. A wounded companion is worse than an enemy in this world. You wondered if Kai would leave you alone to be eaten and stall them, or whether he’d shoot you in the head first, to spare you.

He walked on a little, entering a small square, and the black outlines of hairless, clotheless humans frightened you like you weren’t the one who had put them there ten hours earlier. They spooked you every time.

Kai shot three times, hitting each mannequin with one bullet.

“On the roof!” you pointed, turning back. You bowed as he threw up his shotgun, and fired. Heavy plastic body hopped and rolled down, falling on the ground. Kai could see in the dark so well you had to remind yourself he was human. Sometimes you would forget that fact completely. He was so different from everybody else.

He led you towards the tower where you stabbed one of the zombies in the throat. He was good at shooting, but you were very gifted with stabbing. You never missed.

“God damn”, Kai panted, as the mannequin swayed and collapsed on the asphalt just next to the glass door he was holding for you, “you saved my life”.

He took you in the movie gesture, pulling you into a long kiss. Your wrist started swelling and you had to take off your electronic watch temporarily. In the bleak room, it shone with green thin neon light from the bedside table while you had sex on the matrass.

In the middle of the night something fell off the roof, and scared the hell out of you - for real this time. You did not put anything on the top of the Tower since it was your fort. In the morning you came up on the top, while Kai went down and examined the object. Turned out, on the tenth of May, 1994, one single bag filled with files and staplers fell off the roof of the Hancock Tower. There was no way of knowing why.

“Wake up”.

You opened your eyes and rubbed your neck, aching from sleeping on the single mattrass on the floor. You looked out of the window. It has just stopped raining, which meant it was already close to midnight. In the dystopian Boston, you have switched to night regime of living completely because in the daylight, mannequins randomly standing in the streets looked simply stupid.

“The Titans”, he said. Kai’s face was so close to yours, you could feel the words on your skin. His eyes shone nervously.

“What Titans? It’s zombie apocalypse, Kai”.

He frowned.

“And what was Jeepers Creepers doing there then?”

“Oh my god”, you groaned, “let go of it already! You killed him like a week ago”.

“Come on, see for yourself”, he pulled you up, and you walked to the window, and gasped, instantly feeling for Kai’s hand. It couldn’t be happening.

That’s it! This madness finally drove you... mad.

There was an actual silhouette, the one you didn’t put there, and possibly couldn’t. The one that could not be put there for the life of you. The one of proportions too great for anyone to put it in the middle of the city, one foot on the right side of the river, and the other, on the left.

“What the fuck!” you yelled, your fright real as ever. Kai grinned happily, but then his face changed back to the philosophical expression of impending doom.

“This is it, Y/N. The zombies... and that dude... were just omens, but that’s it. The sky people have come to destroy us. It’s the end“.

“Seriously, Kai, how did you put it up... there?”

The sky was blackish-bordeaux, like usual. The river was seen just fine from here, from the top floor of the Tower. You had a pretty good look on the gloomy city and all its post-war industrial charm. The figure was so big it stood almost above the Tower itself; he reminded you of the Colossus of Rhodos, the Bronze Man, or one of the mythical golden gods of ancient times. You could actually feel your heart trying to break the hell out of your ribcage in a desperate attempt to kill itself. You couldn’t breathe for a second, mortified by the size of that thing. It was one of the deepest nightmares of your childhood, one of the visions haunting you from when you were little and kept dreaming about the end of the world.

You told Kai about those, and he now used them against you, but you appreciated the performance. It was all almost like art. It was horrifying and great, but you hated it.

“He came down from the clouds”, Kai said quietly, like a dispassionate narrator. Who already knows what’s coming, and doesn’t give a shit, because he’s already dead.

“To press the earth into the core of the planet, and make all life perish. He shall walk the land... waging his wrath on all that breathes. Including you and me”.

You made an effort to turn away, mesmerized by the statue, and looked at Kai.

“How much magic have you wasted on it?”

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t break the character, it takes me a lot of concentration”.

“Sorry”, you whispered.

“How do you feel about facing the end of the world with me?” he asked.

It was a damn good question. Parker really did ask all the right questions. After all the time in post-apocalyptic Boston, surrounded by enemy, living in a dark den and barely seeing the sun, it was very easy to actually sense the end coming. You clutched your own elbows, thinking. Strangely, you weren’t scared anymore.

A part of his face was in the shadow. He blinked the way you’ve only ever seen Kai blink, just a little, as if he didn’t want to lose visual even for a split second.

“I’m okay with it. I have lived a fine life, in my totalitarian city, guarded by robots and...”

“...zombies...”

“Hunted down by Harrison Ford...”

“You just jumble together all the movies, it’s actually insane, stop it”.

“But now as Cthulhu has sent its warriors...” (Kai rolled his eyes), “I’m ready to go”.

A lonely honk of a train cut through the distance making you feel melancholic. The trains were just crawling there day and night, filling the air with their lonesome cries occasionally. It would make any reasonable person go crazy, too.

“What will be the last thing you do before you die?” he whispered, his nose almost touching yours. You gave in, hot slow lava crawling up your body. You took Kai’s waist, trying to feel his ribs through three layers of clothing.

“You”.

He probably wore three or four shirts just to see you go nuts as you tried to undress him every time. His street jacket goes, then, a pullover, then a shirt, then another shirt, and you groan with anger as he chuckles at you, his hands snaking under your clothes at once. Your skin went shivering, covered with goose bumps under his fingers, like by magic.

As he pushed you against the wall, the gigantic Titan started melting above the river, looming shadow stepping away from the city, which was flattering. Kai’s whole mind was directed at you now.

You thought about how one loves at the brink of extinction; is it passionate, like when Kai grabbed your shoulder, your hair, pounding you into the floor, or is it gentle and thoughtful, like when you only moved your hips slowly, pressed against each other like two halves of Oreo, or is it impatient, breathless and vile, like when he was fucking you against the wall, talking all the way through your whimpering?

It took the end of the world for you to end up on his dick.

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