#he'd be a lot less nasty about it in survival au

[okanefutan]

@stovthearted inquired: 🔥? // [x]

Of all the people he could be subjected to rating. Oh how he yearns to just say “no” and leave it at that. To go on his merry way and live without the knowledge that he’d said anything positive about the older man ⸺ it’s like pulling teeth, something which he would have, quite frankly, preferred to being subjected to this fate. His view of the dragon is clear as day: he does not like Kiryu by any means of the word. To him, he’s a liability to the Tojo. The chairman’s Achilles heel. He’d witnessed first hand the lengths Daigo has gone to protect the man, who, through all intents and purposes, abandoned his responsibilities and all that came with it. He’d run away. 

Needless to say, he isn’t happy. Not when, for all the negatives he could point out in the man, being ugly was unfortunately not among them. Although his expression never changes, it’s through grit teeth he hisses out a response with all the vitriol he can muster,

     ❝ ⸺  .  .  .  I suppose he’s conventionally attractive, if I really must say it. ❞ Unfortunately. 

[matt0044]

Miraculous: Tales of the Jungle Book - AU crossover

Mowgli and Tikki - Ladybug

Lala and Plagg - Chat Noire

Artwork by joesanchez involving the most underrated Jungle Book adaptation out there.

It all for free on YouTube no less. Search Jungle Book Nantoons and enjoy a hidden 1980s gem.

So... yeah. In a world of IP renewals and brand management, I wouldn't put it past Disney to try and cash in on The Jungle Book where Mowgli becomes superheroes with his friends not unlike The Lion Guard. Basically cashing in on Marvel and Miraculous all the while.

My idea would be a fifty-two episode animated series adapting concepts from Miraculous with some story and character beats from Jungle Book Shonen Mowgli. The first season would be a relaxed pace of thirteen self-contained episodes that lay the foundation for a much meatier Season 2 and onwards involving our Cat Noir to be.

So… what about the she-wolf turned catgirl?

Lala is based on Leela, a minor character from Rudyard Kipling's novel, and expanded on in an minor on again, off again role as Mowgli's, well, mean girl. The Chloe Bourgeois to Mowgli's Marinette. So... why here as Chat Noir...e?

Well... it homages the original plan for Felix to be the Cat bearer rather than Adrien with him being standoffish towards Marinette. Here it's more like Lala sees a need to prove herself against Mowgli and vice versa.

As Chat Noire, Lala is a lot more “likable” towards Ladybug both as a means to work together and to show the hidden depth beneath the priss she parades herself as.

It would play into the overall themes of identity and belonging, especially when new enemies enter the fray.

As for the premise:

”Deep in the heart of India, a pack of wolves help uphold the Law of the Seeonee Jungle with special jewels bestows upon them and allies of other species. These Miraculous were created in a time when man and wild lived together. When harnessing the power of the Kwamis, they deemed that a bearer would assume a human form if they weren't of man already.

This was to preserve secrecy of who had the jewels and the power themselves. Animals were considered suitable since humans already tended to underestimate their kind already.

However, a nasty vie for power in what would be known as the Cold Lair resulted in a schism between humans and the wild for generations to come. A new policy was decreed: the Miraculous could not be trusted with humans lest the world falls to ruin.

Shere Khan the Tiger, one such ally once upon a time, betrays them with the Butterfly Miraculous of Empowerment and slays Alexander the bearer of the Ladybug Miraculous. The fallen hero is survived by his wife and three sons, one of whom is an adopted human boy named Mowgli.

Inspired by his father's sacrifice, Mowgli becomes a young man-cub trained by Alexander’s closest friends in the ways of the wild and eligible to be considered as a Miraculous bearer. Other young wolves step up to be considered as future defenders of the Jungle as Tikki and Plagg scout them for potential heroes to face Shere Khan, now declaring himself as Hawk Moth.

Meanwhile, the power of destruction would go to somebody that would make the mystics themselves roll in their graves.

As Akela's granddaughter, Lala grew up to be a bitch in every sense of the human's derogatory term. She was often quick with a cutting remark and to take out her bad mood on others. Lala could also be a bit of diva when it came to holding her head up a touch too high. For older pack members, they knew that she was only going through what they saw as a tomboy phase with the lack of a mother figure. For younger members... no, she was pain full stop.

Especially towards Mowgli the man-cub. She'd often cut into his hunts if they crossed paths and show him up, especially to rub in how he'd never be a real wolf. The man-cub would hardly take it up the tailbone but rarely got the last word in. Lala was the most vocal to object to him joining the pack and even challenged him to hunt more prey than her to present to Akela if she wanted his vote.

Her grandfather agreed to this if only to propose that the younger members perform a hunting excersise as a way to prepare for Shere Khan. In truth, this was a cover for the Kwamis to scout their promising new bearers. Plagg found himself drawn to Lala when it came to her attitude and related to how she didn't care about how others saw her. His hand was forced when Tabaqui was akumatized by Shere Khan, now Hawk Moth, and turned into a rock beast.

Stone Heart interrupted Lala's hunt and chased her through the woods. Quick thinking and dodging bought her time to hide before Plagg revealed himself. Lala recognized the Miraculous as that of her father's, Vermillion, and felt her bravado get its second wind. Plagg was about to explain it all when she snatched the ring and slipped it onto her wrist, the camouflage charm allowing it to seem like any other accessory.

"Plagg, Claws Out!" Lala shouted. Plagg protested but was soon drawn into the Miraculous and transformed the wolf into a half-human half cat heroine. She even struck a pose upon revealing herself to Stone Heart as if she'd rehearsed for this very moment.

Chat Noire, as she declared herself, had trouble using her extendable staff and found herself on the run again. She was saved by her agility spiking but soon found herself on a cliff. Mowgli bailed her out with his boomerang and even caught her in his arms much to her embarassment. However, Stone Heart soon came crashing down. By instinct, Chat Noire grabbed Mowgli and extended her staff to vault him to safety.

All the while, Tikki was hesitant to consider Mowgli after feeling she left Alexander to die in order to save her Miraculous. However, an Akuma attack causes forces her to make her choice.

Though Lala's haughtiness showed, she played herself off as more playful and charming like the heroes she heard of. It helped that Ladybug's ingenuity earned her admiration when they purified the Akuma. Thanks to Mowgli's human spark of creativity, he's able to utilize the Lucky Charms even when they're of devices he never heard. She even felt a rare sense of guilt when Tabaqui admitted that Lala's sharp tongue made him vulnerable to Akumatization.

Before splitting up, the two heroez gave a fist bump to commemorate their first outting. However, they had to keep their identities mum to each other lest Hawk Moth got a hold of one and squealed on the other. They took their time bantering about while slinging and vaulting through the Jungle for practice. If they only knew that their new best friends had been their worst enemies...

The challenge ended with both Mowgli and Lala finding both their prey collection to have been snatched by scavengers. With the pair of them both losing, Lala scoffed and ate crow by giving her vote for Mowgli to stay. She even told the man-cub that she'll be sure to not let him outdo her. Sharing a cocky grin with her new rivals, something changed in Lala. Small but noticeable.

And thus, the most unlikely pair became the only things keeping Shere Khan at bay..."

------

More pics will follow as I crystalize this potential fanfic further with concept art.

[emperor-palpaminty]

Killing Time

Because nothing can kill a relationship like lies.

A modern AU where crosshair is a hitman and you're his loyal girlfriend who happens to be in the bodyguard business, but neither one of you know the other's careers

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, making oit and allusions to smut, also this is in no way accurate to real life and it's just dramatic, please don't hurt me lol

children you have full permission to run away and not come here, in fact please run away

Very few things phased you. The only things that brought you to your precipice of agitation was burning pasta, your phone charger not working, and showing up to your shift only to realize someone had been killing all your clients.

Who said keeping people alive was easy? No one, that was who, and if anyone said it they were wrong or had no experience working with others whatsoever. Making sure others lived to see their next day was deadly business, for the people that were trying to live, at least.

“Charles!” You barked, feet hitting the floor of the bull pen. “What the hell happened?” You slammed your files on your desk, face warm, head just about collapsing with pressure. Your fingers pressed to your temples, hoping that they would grip it, hold it together. “Burke was alive when I left last night.”

“Doesn't matter now." Your coworker dropped his sandwich onto his desk. "Burke is fucking dead now. As dead as a doorknob." He swallowed his bite. "Luckily, you weren't on shift when it happened, so you aren't gonna catch any fire for it."

"Shit, Charles, a man is dead." You collapsed in your chair, a gentle "oomph" escaping your mouth. Your lips pressed together in agitation and you moaned to yourself. "This is the third one in two months. Sure, I'll get a couple cold bodies, but-"

"But this is a lot." Charles sunk into his own chair, grabbing for his sandwich again.

You stared at him, disbelief coating your gaze. "One is a lot, Charles," You snarled, grabbing at the folder on your desk. "Any leads?"

"Oh, yeah. But they're all at Burke's mansion." Charles tossed the crust of his lunch into the trash can. "I can drive ya."

"No, I'll take my car," You grumbled. You swiped the keys from your desk and stood, stalking back towards the elevator, anger eating away at you.

If one more of your clients- YOUR own clients- got killed, you would have to start pulling full shifts again.

___

Your shoes, practical, did little more than tap against the marble floor as you ducked under the Police tape. You skimmed the scene, frowning, eyes gracing past a particularly nasty chunk of gore on the wall. "Shot from above," You mumbled, glancing at the shattered window.

The mansion was huge. You'd been coming here for nearly a year now to keep an eye on Burke, and it still shocked you when you saw the absolute volume of the home. How much house would one man need, exactly?

In your years as a bodyguard you'd watched out for a lot of people- spoiled celebrities, prideful and arrogant politicians, and a particularly interesting Chef who had an unusual desire to cook everything with some kind of caffeine in it. That was probably your favorite client.

"Excuse me, miss," a voice broke the mumble in the next room, probably of detectives or cops sweeping the house for evidence. "You shouldn't-"

"I was Burke's bodyguard." You tugged your badge out or your pocket, allowing the interrupting police officer to take it and examine it. “You can verify with my assistant, Charles. Make sure you tell him he’s my assistant and not the other way around, though, he can be a dick.”

The cop hesitated, then gave a slight nod. “Well, we’re still cleaning up the scene.” His hands offered your badge back, and you slid it into your back pocket, satisfaction deflating. “You can come by later after it’s clean. Ballistics is running comparisons right now.” He paused and glanced at the shattered window. “Looks like the shot came from the garage. It’s the only side with no motion sensors or alarms.” The cop’s brows raised in interest. “Know why?”

“No.” You said, calmly, turning towards the front door. “I assume I can go there?” You heard no objection as you stepped outside, tugging your sunglasses back on over your eyes. The sun was unforgiving and you gave an involuntary hiss as the bright rays hit your eyes just right to temporarily give your vision black spots. You blinked strongly and hurried towards the garage. 

In truth, Burke had alarms everywhere except the garage because he had so many people and cars coming and going. For any new technology the billionaire was releasing, the man had drugs and other forms of entertainment coming in and out, and it was all stuff that would probably bring him down. That nondisclosure form was still somewhere in the house in some obscure filing cabinet and you really, really, really didn’t feel like having a lawsuit lurking over your shoulders. Life was too good- well, everything outside of people you were being paid to keep alive was good. 

Death really killed the whole “survival” business.

You clamored your way to the roof of the garage, noting the ladder was the same one that the gardener used around the several acres Burke owned. The police had to have put it here- the gardener only came in the mornings.

So who the hell climbed up here without a ladder? Most people didn’t want to put in the effort to scale this freehand or wedge between the wall of the garage and the fence to shimmy up. That someone had to be either very determined to kill Burke, for personal motive or financial motive.

You brushed off you pants and glanced around, looking down at the surface of the roof. Nothing- not even a bullet casing- had been left behind. You frowned and raked a hand through your hair, skimming your scalp as you examined the roof, walking to the edge closest to the window.

You stared in, at the shattered glass, pondering. Burke was heading to bed when he'd been shot, you assumed, so the assassian would have had to know his routine. Your mind ran through possibilities again, but you could come up with none that were motivated personally enough or fit enough to climb without much assistance. You trailed along the surface, frowning, unable to find anything, but paused at a smudge of black paint, small, on the corner of the roof.

____

You turned your car down the street, exhaling softly as you pulled into your driveway.

99. That was what the marks said. Very subtle, meant nothing, unless it was a birth year or graduating class. The cops had come back, irritated, snapped a couple of pictures, and told you off about your wild theories of a fiscally motivated assassian. Apparently, you watched too many scret agent movies, or something like that.

You opened the door of the car and climbed out, frustration making you slam it shut. You inhaled the scent of the yard- clean, fresh cut, and perhaps it could help soothe your anger before you went inside.

After fumbling on your Keychain, you unlocked the door and hurried in, locking it behind you. "Cross?"

A savory aroma wafted from the kitchen, and your mouth watered. Your toes found their way out of your shoes and you hurried to the kitchen, pausing briefly at the doorway.

Cross's lanky figure was leaning over the skillet, stirring something, pale hands moving in expertise across the stove top. "Darling, you're late." He drawled.

You sighed, fully entering the kitchen. "Yeah. Sorry." You leaned up and wrapped your arms around his waist, face pressing against his back. You sighed. The day felt a little less bad now- filled with him. "Work kept me."

"How was work?"

You grunted. "A killer. An absolute killer." The irony was not lost on you, but it was lost to your boyfriend. He thought you were an editor for some book publishing company, because cover was the most important thing. You were one of those people trying to stay alive, after all.

Lies hurt, but it was one of the necessary ones. A little lie.

"Yikes." His hands drew plates to himself. "Mine wasn't much better. Got a few new clients, a few new cases." He sighed. "The Baliff forgot to submit evidence."

You mumbled against his shirt. "Law school really paid off, huh?"

"I'll say." He turned around, adjusting your arms, slowly taking your chin and leaning down to peck you. You always melted at his kisses, knees weak and brain numb, and he seemed to know it every time. You hummed, running your hands up his chest, the irritation for the day pooling to your midsection as your fingers gripped his shirt, your lips pulling in on his.

Cross tugged away gently, and you whined, fingers stubbornly clasped. "Wow, really frustrated today."

"Yes," You mumbled.

His lips pressed towards one of their corners in a half smile, and he picked your head. "Go shower. Then we can eat and I'll take care of you."

You hummed, fingers reluctantly releasing him, and you hurried away to the bathroom. You paused at the dresser, rummaging through, grabbing an especially large t-shirt and hipster underwear. Comfort was more important at the moment.

You climbed into the shower, turning the water to as hot as you could and scrubbing yourself off, humming in pleasure as the day came off you and went down the drain. The floral scent of the soap remained, the purple bad working diligently to rid you of your grime and frustration. Lavender really is a natural relaxant. You sighed and leaned back briefly on the tile, feeling every muscle in you ease at the same time.

After toweling off and getting dressed, your padded to the kitchen where Cross was pouring a your favorite wine. You sighed happily, accepting the glass as he skimmed your fresh-showered body. "Thanks."

"Of course." Cross picked up his own glass, taking a sip, eyes still diligently stripping you on their own. You shivered slightly, setting down your glass and looking up at him. "Dinner's ready," He mumbled, leaning in, pressing a hand to the counter of either side of you, leaving your back to the counter. "But I would much rather start with dessert."

You drew in a breath as he pressed his lips to your neck, drawing out a sigh with his teeth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, humming in agreement, and he scooped you up. Your groaned as he drew your legs around his lips, shifting, the agitating heat pooling back between your legs. "That's a good idea." You mumbled, whimpering as he bucked his hips slightly. "I just showered, though."

"Then we can take another one," He hissed, lips covering yours. "You're so damn intoxicating."

You mumbled something against his lips, unable to get a coherent response out as he dropped you on the bed. You bounced briefly, giggling, and he yanked off his shirt and joined you, climbing over you and hovering. "Come here, sweetheart," His finger traced over your shirt between your breasts, running down to the hem. "Let's end the day on a good note."

You whimpered, neck straining as you leaned up for his kiss, and you felt Cross snarl against you, tugging your surrendered form up closer to him. Your body relaxed again, neck loosening and head back against the pillow as he tugged your own shirt up, eyes gleaming with a primal eagerness that made you swoon, ready to work out the agitation for the day you both had.

[thunderheadfred]

🤚The Second Worst (Pt. 1/?)🤚

Part 2 of my Shigaraki Thesis Headcanons. HC's // The Second Worst: 1 - 2

The half-mad ghost of Shimura Tenko is in love with you, and your life is about to become a tragic wreck. -- AKA here's when I gave up on bullet points and went off the fuckin rails

I'm self-conscious about writing so much, so uhhhh, please be kind, hahaaa. This is rather long and involved. Are these still even HCs or just a self-indulgent AU outline? There are some mysteries we may never solve.

This is on AO3 now, if you prefer reading there. Anyway. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

You met Tenko before the League existed.

Believe it or not, there are a million ways it might have happened, but in the end: you were both bargain-binning in Akihabara.

You reached for a copy of a collectible bullet-hell cute-'em-up (near-mint! CIB!!!) and accidentally bonked hands with a complete stranger. He flinched about five million feet away from you. Ouch. You're just a nobody, quirkless and average, but you didn't think you were THAT repulsive.

(You're not. Hell, even if you were, this guy couldn't care less. He barely registers that you have a face.)

(Shigaraki is accustomed to getting in and out of this shop in seconds. He always comes in before anyone else and goes straight home. -- Is that really home? Is 'home' a real place? -- ANYWAY he's already pirated this shit, god, why does he even care? He doesn't need to be here. Father doesn't like it. Is that why he's here? Just to do something Father doesn't like? That's pathetic.)

He's had at least ten complete internal arguments with himself before he so much as looks at you.

You know in the tenth of a second he actually meets your eyes... this fucker is going to fight you to the death over this game.

- - - The death match ends in a draw. He was not expecting you to know the first fucking thing about this game. Nobody knows about it, even in Japan. Who the fuck do you even think you are? Oh, no, he's still taking it. But... maybe he can show you how to play it it. He'll give you a little taste, just to make you jealous. He's got his hoodie pulled down like he's going to commit an act of terrorism. What little you can see of his face looks twitchy and messed up. If you have any survival instincts at all, they're kicking in right about now. But... why not. You're not going anywhere with this dude unsupervised, so you suggest a crowded web cafe down the street. The cafe has the necessary console... but the retro gaming booth is laughably small. The TV is about four inches across and you end up having to practically sit in his lap. You were sure this guy was a nasty fucking creep, but he's................ only mostly terrible. Way too angry, for sure. Has no idea how to have a normal, friendly conversation. Inadvertently insults you every other sentence and seems to have a deep-seated persecution complex.

You'd prefer to be mad about the awful company, but... he's obviously deprived of human contact. When it's established that you two share a lot of media fixations, he calms down and starts treating you a little more like a human being. Or at least like a fellow elite.

Wherever he came from, he doesn't seem to want to go back. He keeps pushing you to play one more level, pretending he wants to beat your score. You feel kinda bad for him. You get the distinct feeling that his life is a disaster. He looks like he's never had a full night of sleep in his life. He trips your trigger hairs in that 'is he gonna follow me home?' kind of way, but... up close, he's a lot more depressing than scary. At the very least, you want to buy him a stupidly cute dessert. Just... as thanks. For letting you try out the game and stuff. It's not a big deal, so just pick a flavor, okay? The world isn't actually that awful, y'know.

It's not even that impressive... Definitely not a great cafe. But he takes practically a full hour to eat a single slice of strawberry cake.

When the hoodie comes down. He's all shriveled and dried out, like someone left him him in the desert to die. He chews on his peeling bottom lip and nervously scratches his neck. He doesn't thank you for the cake. Which is fine. It's not a big deal. Actually, you wish he would eat faster; you feel weirdly responsible for him now.

Under all that mess he's... gorgeous? His hair is stunning: a bright, gleaming silver that catches the light. His bone structure is flawless. If it weren't for all the scars and the misanthropic slouch, he'd look like a fairy fucking prince.

You were not prepared for that. In another life he could have been a model, the type of guy who would never even look at you. But something bad happened to him. Something... very bad. Do you even want to know? You have no idea how to ask. Has anyone ever been nice to him? It doesn't seem like it. Should YOU be nice to him? You sort of want to try. - - - This becomes a regular thing. This weird little secret. You should probably tell someone when you see him, just in case you don't come back one day, but you say nothing; how the hell would you explain why you want to see him so bad? You don't know his full name. Maybe he's on a watch list. When he gives you a long string of random numbers so you can schedule meet-ups (is THAT his e-mail, really?) he tells you to just... call him Tenko. Or whatever. It doesn't matter. (He sneaks out when Father is deep in his plots. As long as he comes home on time, it doesn't really matter where he goes, right?) He brings a different game every time. He has an insane collection. Where does he get the money for all this? You know he doesn't work. God, is it drugs? It's probably drugs. Wherever these hidden gems came from, he proudly shows them off to you, like he's never had an audience before. It's sort of cringe-inducing, the way he one-ups and rubs every little victory in your face, desperate for attention.

But at the same time, you are becoming too... something...to mind. Do you... like him? He's not funny, but he thinks you are. His mouth is huge when he laughs. He seems to hate everyone but you, and you've had to earn the distinction of being merely tolerable. Still, he gets really excited about random shit like the garage kit black market and haunted dolls and the price of weed on the dark web.

And... strawberry cake. The realization hits you both at the same time when the waitress brings one piece with two forks. God, what the fuck, are you... are you dating? Quick, think. You look forward to seeing him, and don't even mind sitting close to him anymore. Sometimes you push your leg up against him just to see if he'll still flinch away... and he doesn't.

You jealously notice the way he touches everything but you: with delicate precision, one finger at a time. His large, elegant hands always have a pinky up like he's aspiring for a fiefdom, and you wonder what his skin feels like. You go home and dwell on the way he plucks flowering weeds out of the pavement in front of the cafe. The way he stands rooted to the spot as you leave, just... looking at nothing, unsmiling.

You watch his lips too much, and not just because you want to buy him chapstick. You catch him gaping at you all the time. You thought he was just creepy like that, but maybe... Yeah. I guess you are dating him. Shit. - - - Okay, so, yeah. Bringing him back to your place was definitely a bad idea. You know you shouldn't trust him, even if he is... apparently... your boyfriend? Sort of? You still don't have his phone number. So. Um. What now? You order overpriced pizza and queue up a campy horror movie. What the fuck are you even doing. You don't really think he's going to murder you anymore, but... still. Is the suburban massacre scene gonna give him ideas? Turns out, no. He doesn't like gore, even when the blood is neon pink. He gets upset. Like, really upset. Shaky and green, like he might puke on you. He can't stop scratching that scaly spot on his neck.

Tenko, are you crying? Fucking hell, did you just trigger him? Of course he has a traumatic past, it's carved all over his face. You're so fucking stupid. You don't know how to make it right. You want to hug him, kiss him... anything. But he's never really touched you, and you're too afraid to push now. It ruins the whole night. He leaves without explaining anything. Doesn't even say goodbye. He just. Leaves. Maybe you'll never see him again. Maybe that's for the best. Your chest hurts. - - - He shows up at your door a few weeks later. You haven't heard from him since that disastrous movie night. You had pretty much accepted that you'd broken up with a boyfriend you never actually had. But no. Apparently not.

This time, he’s brought his own entertainment. He's holding a boxed set of some show you're not familiar with. You're distracted by these weird little half-gloves he's wearing, like a cyberpunk hacker. That's a new look, and even if it's a bit edgelord adjacent, he makes it look cool. You tell him as much. It's the first time you've let on how attractive you find him. He's wearing a tight black shirt with a deep, deep V-neck. That's distracting too.

He clears his slender throat and doesn't look at you.

You try to apologize for before, but he's acting like it never happened. What are you even talking about? Have you seen this OVA or not? Get out of the way and let him in already. You've watched three episodes now, but you still have no idea what this stupid anime is about. You can't pay attention to a single frame. All you can think about is how his arm has crept up behind your shoulders. A few inches more and he'll be holding you. Does he... want to hold you? You lean toward him so slowly your spine creaks. One molecule at a time. After a thousand years, your head slides nervously under his chin. His arm comes down, locking you in, fingers clutching your sleeve in a death grip. Even that snobby little pinky. His head tucks down into you hair. A sharp collarbone bites into your cheek. His heartbeat is hard, fast, and irregular. There's not a scrap of fat on him, and as you wrap your arm around his stomach, you think you see a twitch in his pants. Is that just you being desperate? Or... hopeful? This is really happening. --- Soon, you learn that Tenko is a clumsy kisser. It doesn't matter; the fact that he's kissing you at all is good enough for now. His lips are dry, but not half as dry as you expected. There's a slick of menthol helping things along; he's been using something medicated on his lips. Plus, his mouth tastes like he drank a gallon of mouthwash.

All this thrills you more than a little, because it means he came here wanting to impress you. Wanting you. Full stop. Underneath that minty sting is a strange, worrisome aftertaste, like something rotten. Your brain fires off an alarm. Stop kissing him. Right now. This thing will make you sick. But his hands nervously slide over your body... and you decide not to worry about it. Instead, you kiss him deeper. He makes a sweet, startled little noise. Your brain is a fucking liar. It occurs to you he's probably never done this before.

When you lace your fingers in his and try to pull one of his gloves off, he rips his hand away.

Don't. That’s the only explanation he gives.

No need to ask if it's a quirk thing or a trauma thing. Judging by how jittery he gets, it's probably both. You remember the way his hands almost float over objects without ever holding them. Maybe his touch is dangerous. Maybe that's why his face looks like that.

Maybe you should learn more about him before things go way too far...

No. It can't be that bad. Now that he's in your arms, everything frightening about him evaporates. He's vulnerable. He's alone. He's shaking a little. Has anyone else ever seen this side of him? You want to keep him all to yourself, just like this.

So what if he has to touch you with gloves on? You've heard of worse quirk-related inconveniences.

It's okay, Tenko. Do you want to keep going?

You put his hands back on you and wait for him to kiss you again. It doesn't take long.

---

You open his pants. He's long and thin, calloused even here. Every part of him feels untouched, unloved. You hold him tight and squeeze.

It doesn't seem to occur to him to please you in return. He looks afraid. Confused. You're sure you scared him earlier with the glove thing. Is this too much? No. He gasps and leans into you. The tiniest, broken please.

He cums in your hand right away, face buried in your shoulder, his eyes wet and hidden.

I have to go, he says. Over and over and over.

It's okay, Tenko.

You know he doesn't want to.

- - - - - (oops I wrote more)

[kdramabrainrotstation]

im crying about almost all the characters who died in all of us are dead do you have any fuck canon ideas for them surviving. esp cheongsan because he should have lived idk as a hambie or smth

oh god solid ass same, fuck. mind you, i'll be the first to say that the way the show played out was so fluid and good that even with these deaths, it was amazing and i enjoyed watching it both my first and second time around. many more rewatches to come tbf

but i love aus and i love making dead characters not be dead. so yeah, fuck canon ideas incoming. below a readmore because it's long af

lee cheongsan

hambie. fuckin hambie. hambie af. namra got bitten by gwinam too and she became a hambie, so it's not exactly outside of the realm of possibility. canon or not, there are theories floating around that cheongsan didn't die, anyway. the body that you see in the rubble in the last episode doesn't appear to be his either. but i digress

i'm actually working on a post-canon fic where cheongsan doesn't die in that explosion. i have a lot to figure out about it, but i would give anything for that dude to rise from those ashes and shuffle his little hambie ass out into the streets. would absolutely love for him and namra to run into one another and WHILE I'M ON THAT SUBJECT, have a heart-to-heart about how cheongsan had been ready to do away with her back in the school once he'd seen she'd been bitten

imagine the two of them talking around a fire, namra explaining to him that she understood why he reacted the way he did. and then the next time the other students manage to sneak out, it's namra and cheongsan ready to greet them

just...let the boy live

han gyeongsu

i cried, okay? i cried so ugly. so cruel of the show to have cheongsan whistling at him from outside the broadcast room and them being all goofy right before that whole shitstorm happened

so yeah, headcanons for how gyeongsu lives!

the obvious first is that nayeon didn't pull that stunt on gyeongsu. i don't care for nayeon much, but her not running off on her own also means her not trying to make herself look like she was in the right by turning gyeongsu. considering that 'welfie' term she kept using on him, i would have loved to see her genuinely apologize to him down the line too. no matter how nasty she was to him, i feel like he would have protected her right along with everyone else during their time in that school, and eventually she would realize what everyone else did--that their background doesn't really matter once they're walking through living hell

but i digress. gyeongsu doesn't turn in the broadcast room. cheongsan still has his close friend at his side. ms. park and nayeon are still there, and that's three more heads they can put together to figure out their next step. gyeongsu proved during that fight with the window zombie that he can think quickly, so he's an asset for them. and just being honest, he didn't deserve to die

i also wouldn't mind a hambie au with him. makes me wonder if a hambie gyeongsu would have pursued nayeon the way gwinam pursued cheongsan. probably, but i doubt he'd actually go through with his attack once he got there. unlike gwinam, he's a genuinely good person, and like namra, he would probably struggle to resist his urges

either way, he's alive in either of these so i'll take either!

yoon isak

i felt really bad for isak honestly. like she was literally doing the same thing everyone else was doing when they were trying to make it into the classroom. we didn't get to experience much with her but she was super sweet and i hated seeing her turn

it's as simple as she doesn't get bitten while they're trying to push the zombies back. isak survives, and their team is a little less small. on top of that, isak was really pleasant and motivated, so i feel like she would do the group a lot of good when the going gets tough later on in the show

oh joonyeong

ouch. ouch ouch ouch. i really was not expecting that one when it happened. seeing how upset mijin got when it happened broke me. dude straight up accepted that he got bitten because of his plan and accepted responsibility for it. he sucked it up and took one for everyone else and g o d. fuck

i have a soft spot for him and daesu and their friendship. there was so much more than joonyeong that died at that part. i would give anything for an au where he simply didn't get bitten and he and mijin continued to bicker, and he and daesu invited her right in to their little circle of comfort. and just...generally, i would give anything to see joonyeong make it to the quarantine

this list could probably go on forever, but i'm going to stop here. in essence, you literally see so many of the strong points of the group drop as characters die during the progression of the drama. the kids are intelligent as fuck, but ideas become more and more scarce as people die off. emotional, physical, intellectual strength--all of them have their own unique traits, so seeing most of the kids in this show die was painful

but here--have some honorable mentions of characters that shouldn't have died: jang wujin, jung minjae, yoo joonsung, park sunhwa, nam soju, and honestly everyone's parents