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kpop---scenarios · 3 years

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Life After Death

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Reader

Genre: Zombie! Au, Enemies to Lovers

Warning: Death, Blood, Smut, Swearing

Word Count: 9k

Summary: The morning you woke up, everything seemed normal, until it wasn't. The world is turned upside down the government and the World Health Organization have shut down, zombies around every corner and only the strong survive. You meet a few friends along the way, and lose even more as you continue to fight for your life. You never thought you'd meet someone under these circumstances but here you were, happy while surviving life after death. Though you should have known, there's never a happy ending in an apocalypse.

A/N: This is part of the collab started by @biaswreckingfics! Go to her page to see the other stories written by terrific creators!

"I'll see you later." You whisper to your sleeping boyfriend before you place a light kiss on his cheek. You open the front door to your apartment, looking back and around at everything, making sure you weren't forgetting anything before you left. As you close the door, you realize you forgot to turn off the radio when you hear one of your favorite songs playing. With a sigh, you glance at your watch and you see you're going to be late, so you leave it, just missing the important message that interrupted everything.

"Breaking News: The World Health Organization has announced extremely serious side effects from the recent vaccinations of batch number 0506361. If the numbers 0506361 are on your vaccination cards please report to your nearest hospital to seek medical treatment."

You don't notice anything different or weird as you walk down the pathway from your apartment building to your parked car. The sun is shining, the air smells crisp, today was going to be a good day, you could feel it. You slide into the driver's seat of your car, turning it on and immediately syncing your phone to play your favorite playlist to amp you up for the day of work you had ahead of you. As you continue to drive to work you notice the streets seem a lot busier than they usually were, especially for 7:45am, some people in their suits running down the sidewalk screaming. Your stomach twisted as you continued down the street, your eyebrows furrowing as you tried to watch the people and the road, slowing your speed. You look out your window and see a man laying on the ground, with another man on top of him. You rolled down your window to yell at them, but when the man turned to look at you, panic ensued. His eyes were white, his face was covered in blood, veins pulsating in his face. Nothing about him seemed human. He looked directly at you, and stood up. Your hands shook as you rolled up your window as fast as it would go. The man suddenly now bolted towards you, snarling. With your window up and both hands now on the steering wheel, you try to breathe through the lump that had appeared in your throat. As you keep driving, you see more and more of people being attacked, tackled and ripped into, people running away crying and screaming, vehicles crashing, buildings and cars up in flames. You could hear the blood curdling screams from inside your car. With shaky hands you switch the station of your radio to see if anyone was reporting on what the fuck was happening.

"..If the numbers 0506361 are on your vaccination cards please report to your nearest hospital to seek medical treatment.. there's a virus.. It's zombies. Zombies are attacking the city.. everyone seek shelter.. oh god.. please no."

You quickly turn your car around, speeding back to your apartment as you try to swerve off the undead as you rush back to your boyfriend. You may not know much, but you've seen enough zombie movies to know that you need to get supplies. You drive your car up and over the curb, parking directly on the lawn in front of your building and run inside. You were lucky you lived right on the ground floor of one of the first apartments in. You struggle to slide your key into the lock, the cries of residents pleading filling the hallway. Your key finally slides into the lock, quickly you turn it and shove your door open before slamming it behind you.

"Jaebum?" You whisper as you scrounge through the front closet looking for the duffle bag that you knew was in there. "Jaebum." You hiss again, running to the kitchen. You pack all the perishable food items and then begin filling up every jug you could find that had a lid with water. You tore through your junk drawer grabbing the flashlights and batteries, and any candles you could find as well as your butcher block.

"I'm serious, Jaebum. You need to answer me now." You hiss, bringing the bag into the living room. You guys needed to leave quickly, which meant you needed to pack even quicker. It wasn't like him not to answer you, it made you worry. You glance to the front door and his shoes were still exactly where he had left them the night before. You crept up to your closed bedroom door, with your hand hovering over the door knob. Your heart felt like it was beating out of your chest as you grabbed the knob, slowly turning it. You push the door open, expecting to see him, but he wasn't there. You quickly changed out of your work clothes, and grabbed everything from all of your drawers and shoved it into the bag. It wasn't until you had finished grabbing what you needed and you had a second to listen that you heard the shower running from down the hall, but for whatever reason, something didn't feel right. You tiptoed quietly down the hallway, standing in front of the door, you pressed your ear against it but heard nothing other than the sound of the shower running.

"Jaebum?" You whispered, gently knocking on the door, but there was no answer. You turned the knob, and opened the door. You saw your boyfriend standing there with his back turned to you. "Oh my god, Jae, we have to go! There are fucking zombies outside!" You gasp, still having a hard time believing those words that were coming from your mouth. In a split second he turned around, his face was beginning to contort, one eye was pure white.

"Y/N.. somethings wrong." He chokes out, spitting out blood before he falls to the ground, his body spasming while he froths at the mouth.

You let out a loud scream as you slam the door shut, running down the hallway to grab the duffle bag before heading out. You swing your door open to run out and crash into a man who falls into another group. You turn to apologize but already there were zombies staggering down the hallway at a quick pace. You whisper an apology before you run out the front door, his cries and pleas for help making your heart sink. You release a big breath seeing your car is still there. You climb in your front seat, closing the door as fast as you can and locking all the doors before turning your car on. Just before you were able to put your car in reverse and speed away, a man began banging on your window.

"Please miss, please open your door." He asks. You look at his face, he's sweating, blood splattered all over his face. His fists and arms remain pressed against your window, smearing blood across it. Your eyes drift down and you see a fresh wound - a bite mark and a chunk taken from his arm.

"You were bitten.." You say to him through the window.

"I'm fine. It's fine.. it's not a bite.. please." He begs. He turns to look behind him and looks back at you, panic written all over his face.

"Please miss, they're coming.. please." He cries.

"I can't." You yell, turning your head away from them. You put the car in reverse, stepping on the gas you pull away from him, knocking him to the ground. As your car stops so you can switch it into drive, you watch as the man gets mauled by a herd of the undead. You felt bad, but you couldn't have helped him, even if you wanted to.

You drove towards the freeway, thinking your best bet is to get out of the city. Your eyes were glued to the road and watching the mirrors, you watched as people panicked while driving, crashing into other cars trying to merge first, crashing into medians, and going in all directions. You could feel a panic attack coming along as you finally realized you were all alone. You had no one to talk to, no one to help you and that was terrifying. You glance down at your gas gage, seeing you had almost a full tank, you knew you would be able to make it to the one place that was probably the safest, your cousin Ray's.

You're stuck in traffic with your doors locked as you see a few people running to cars, trying to get in. There's a man, crying and panicking. No one would let him in, a herd of zombies following behind him. You needed to make a quick decision, so you rolled down your window motioning them over to you. "Here, get in." You yell, unlocking your doors. A man climbs into the backseat of your car, and you quickly lock the doors as soon as the door closes.

"Thank you." The man cries

"Have you been bitten?" You ask, turning to look him over.

"No.. no I haven't. Some men.. they pulled me out of my car, and took off, leaving me out there to die." The man explains. "You're the first person who offered me any help."

"I'm glad I could help." You smile through your rear view. "My cousin has a farm just an hour or so up from here. My family is heading there now. He's been preparing for an apocalypse for a long time. We should be safe there." You explain.

Earlier you had gotten a frantic call from your mother, her asking if you had seen what was going on. You couldn't understand why she thought you lived under a rock and didn't know anything. You did leave your house and listen to the news, contrary to popular belief.

"Thank you, thank you." He cries. You just smile as you continue to drive to Ray's farm.

An hour later you take a left turn, driving down the gravel road that leads you to the farm house. You drive slowly, seeing your mom's car, your aunt's car and a few other relatives. You sighed a sigh of relief, knowing that your family was safe. The two of you get out of the car and quietly make your way to the door. You softly knock but there's no answer. You turn the door knob, pushing the door open and it's empty. You walk down the small hallway and hear nothing. Your mom isn't talking, Ray wasn't yelling, no one was making a sound and that was very unusual for your family.

"Hello?" You call out.

You hear footsteps coming from down the hall as the two of you stand around the kitchen. "Hurry up." You laugh and cry.

As the footsteps got closer, you could hear snarling. Your laughter stopped as your cousin Ray came out of the back room. "Zombies." You whisper, backing away.

Not far behind him was your mom, dad, and aunt all coming out, rushing towards you all. "Run!" You scream, heading towards the door. You pull it open, the man behind you trying to get out the door, but he falls, crying as the undead come closer. He's doing his best to fight the zombies off but more stagger out from the back room, there are too many for him. "Run! Save yourself! If you meet my wife, her name is H/N, tell her I love her and our daughter." He yells. "I was trying to get home to them." He yells.

He's trying so hard to fight them, but he's bitten, he screams in agony as he's being ripped to shreds, his body being mauled by the undead.

His screams are now silent, the only sound filling the room is the sound of flesh being torn through.

You close the door, running back to your car. You see a gas can on the side of the house. You rummage through your car, knowing that you have a lighter somewhere in there. You remembered the argument you and Jaebum had gotten into about smoking and he tossed his lighter in your car.

Found it, under the passenger seat. As you went to get out of the car, you noticed something in the backseat.

A wallet.

You grabbed it, opening it up to see the license. It was the man's.

"Kim Jongdae." You whisper. You felt sorry for him, but you couldn't take long to mourn. You needed to be alert and get back on the road. You take your lighter and run to the gasoline. You pour it all over the front of the house, seeing your undead family banging against your windows broke your heart but you needed to do this. You flick the lighter, igniting the flame and throw it onto the ground. The house lights up, the flames quickly engulfing the house. You walk back to your car, slide into the driver's seat and sit there, tears pouring down your cheeks. You have no family, no friends, you have no one.

No one is coming to save you. You watch as your family and the house burn to the ground, exploding in the process.

That made you laugh a little bit, thinking of all the illegal shit your cousin Ray had in his basement.

A while later you get yourself together and drive over to the barn. If you knew anything about your cousin, it is that he always stored something in his barn, besides his pride and joy of a car, his old bronco, Monty. You pull the doors open, and take the tarp off the car, revealing its shine. Just as you remembered it. You peaked in the driver's side and sure enough, the keys were dangling from the ignition.

You began walking slowly to the back of the barn, opening another door, and here you found the jackpot.

Guns.

From a machine gun, to a pistol, to a shotgun. You gathered them all, putting the guns and the ammo in the backseat of Monty. You grab your bags from your car, tossing them in as well before looking around to see if there was anything else you could take. You notice a radio, but don't think much of it at the moment.

You climb into the driver's seat, and pull out of the barn, feeling safer than you have all day. You keep driving down the deserted highway. Abandoned cars everywhere, a few bodies laying around but most of all, no zombies but also no humans either. You're barely paying attention to the road, when you hit something, causing you to swerve, and the car to make a funny noise. You get out to check and see your front tire, flat as fuck.

You didn't have a spare. It was getting dark and you were exhausted. You moved most of the guns to the floor of the back seat, grabbing a blanket and some food and water. You change your clothes, wiping yourself down before having a snack. Laying down in the backseat you try to plan out your next move, but your eyelids get too heavy, and you can't fight it anymore. You doze off completely, and for a little while, forget about the disaster you're in.

You stayed in your car for weeks, never coming across anyone human. You missed talking to someone, talking to yourself wasn't the same. At times you almost forgot what your own voice sounded like. When it was safe, you'd get out of the car and wander around the forest, collecting sticks and branches to make fires with, so you could heat up some of your food. You have some, but you were starting to run low and you didn't know what you were going to do when it ran out. You were limiting yourself to one meal a day but even that didn't seem to help.

You learned when zombies came near the car, in a few or a herd, you needed to hide yourself very well. No moving, light breathing and packed under a lot of things. You were sure if they couldn't see you then they would continue on their way and leave. It almost always worked.

Life in the apocalypse was lonely and exhausting. That night you went to sleep, hoping for a miracle.

You're woken up later, by a frantic tapping on your window. Your eyes adjust to the sun as you look directly out your back window. A group of men stand there, all looking terrified as one of them taps on your window harder. You crawl up to the front driver's seat. You know you can't go anywhere, not with your busted tire. You turn the car on, rolling down your window just a crack.

"What?" You ask, side eyeing all of them.

"Please, we won't hurt you.. we just need a ride. There.. there's a military base a few miles up, but we just can't walk anymore. We haven't come across anyone, human in a while." He stutters.

"My tire is flat." You explain. "I don't have a spare."

"I can change it for you, just gotta take one off another car." A man pipes up.

You didn't feel uneasy from these guys and you were one to always trust your instincts.

"You change the tire, I'll give you a ride." You say. A military base? Maybe it would finally be somewhere safe for you to be.

The man nods and gets to work. By the time he's done the sun is beginning to set, and then you're on your journey to hopefully find somewhere safe.

You're driving down the highway, doing your best to follow the men's map that has every military base mapped out in the 100 miles surrounding the area. "What are your names?" You ask.

"I'm Changbin." The one in the front seat answers. "I'm Chan, and this is Felix." One in the back answers.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Y/N." You say with a smile. As you continue to drive, it quickly becomes night time, everything is black, except for the dim lights coming from your headlights. The two men in the back continue to loudly talk and argue over something, making it hard for you to concentrate. You hated driving at night, especially near wooded areas, you never knew what was out there.

"Can you guys stop?" You ask, glancing to the back.

They continued and got louder. Changbin was asleep in the front seat as they continued their bickering, making you get even more flustered. You turn your head to look back at them, telling them again to stop. They look at each other as you look back at the road and see something standing there. You get startled, yanking the wheel to try and avoid it, heading directly into the woods. The car heads straight on towards a tree and crashes. You hit your head hard on the steering wheel, knocking you out.

What feels like hours, but only seconds later you gain consciousness, just in time to hear Changbin and Chan crying. "She killed him." Changbin cried. "I'm gonna kill her." He yells.

You're struggling to open your eyes, your head is pounding.

You can hear some rustling between the two. "Don't." Chan says. "Leave her. She's in no condition to go anywhere. The undead will get her. She'll get her suffering, ``he says. "Let's take what we can and leave."

"No." You whisper. "Don't."

They can't hear you.

You can hear them rummaging through your car, collecting your guns, your food, your water, everything you had.

"Let's go." Changbin says, they both take off, leaving you there to die as you lose consciousness once again.

You're startled awake, surrounded by darkness. You unbuckle your seatbelt, getting out of the car with your head pounding. Your headlights are still on, and you see Felix's body laying on the ground. He had flown through the windshield from the impact of the crash. He wasn't wearing a seatbelt. You begin to cry, this was too much for you.

And then you remember. You look up and see a herd of zombies staggering towards you. They were quicker than you thought. You turned towards the road, running as fast as you could, your leg was throbbing. You run across the road to the other side of the woods. You can hear the snarling behind you as you do your best to navigate through the trees, branches breaking beneath your feet.

You stop, hiding behind a tree, trying to control your breathing. You listen, you can hear the sounds of them walking through the forest, searching for you. You take a second before you take off again, trying to zigzag through the woods in your best attempt to lose them.

You look up, seeing a fire. You run towards it, the flames becoming closer, you can hear the sound of faint words.

Then everything goes quiet. Suddenly the fire is put out and you can hear the sounds of guns clicking.

"Don't shoot." You yell out. "Please."

"What do you want?" A woman yells back.

"I'm.. there's a herd following me. I need help. I was in an accident, I was robbed. I haven't been bitten." You stutter.

"We don't need anyone else." A man yells. "Keep moving."

"Please.. I just need some help. I'm all alone." You cry.

"Move along, before I put a bullet in your head." He yells.

You let out a sob as you turn, beginning to run a different way. You hope you can find a safe place and a group of people but for tonight, you just hope you can survive the night.

It had been months.

Months since the outbreak, months of being on your own, months of fighting, scavenging, and hiding. You had come across a few groups, but they wanted nothing more than to take what you had and leave you defenseless. You had learned to hide from most people, giving yourself the advantage of a surprise attack. Most of the time you were successful and they just took off but sometimes they also fought back.

A week ago you had come across a small town, and had found some food and water and a place to stay, but you knew better than to stay in one place for too long. You quickly packed up your belongings into your backpack and grabbed your large spear. You learned awfully quick how to take down a zombie with it, finding it to be much more efficient than a gun, especially with having spears on both sides.

As you walk through the forest, your eyes and ears are open, listening for any signs of the undead. You stop in your tracks, hearing the sound of grunting and yelling, sounding close to you. You walk towards the sound, and come into view of four men trying to fight off a herd. They looked to be struggling, and although you don't usually like to insert yourself into others' fights, you felt like being nice and lending a hand. You run towards them, spearing a few in the head on your way.

You quickly join the fight, taking down a few zombies, as they get a little distracted, seeing another person helping.

"Focus." A man yells, bringing them out of the confusion.

A few minutes later, the last one is stabbed in the head, his decaying body dropping to the ground. The four men turn to look at you, two of them with a smile on their faces, one looking a little confused and the other one looking right angry.

"Hi." One with brown hair and a large smile says.

"Thank you." The blonde one grins.

"No problem." You laugh.

"I'm Baekhyun, this is Chanyeol." He introduces. "And that's Suho." He says, pointing to the confused one. "And that's Kyungsoo." He finishes, pointing to the angry one.

"Nice to meet you all." You say. "I'm Y/N."

"Are you all alone?" Chanyeol asks.

You nod your head.

"What's your story, Y/N?" Suho asks.

You smile awkwardly as you look at the four men who surround you. "My boyfriend turned into one of them when this whole thing started, so I was on my own from the beginning, in a sense. I met a man on my way to my cousin's farm, where my family was gathering, and when we got there they all had already turned. He..he tripped and he fell while trying to escape and he was bitten." You shudder. "I gathered supplies and I took off, and ended up with a flat tire a few hours away. I stayed in my car for weeks, managing pretty well on my own. I met three guys who offered to change my tire for a ride to a military base but when we finally got going.. it was dark and they were arguing in the back." You explain. "I turned around to tell them to stop, but they wouldn't listen and when I looked back at the road, there was something there and I swerved." You sigh. "We hit a tree, and one of them flew through the window. The other two robbed me of everything I had and I've been alone ever since."

"Well not anymore you're not." Baekhyun smiles. "You can join our group."

"Yeah!" Chanyeol exclaims.

"No." Kyungsoo grunts, walking past you, glaring at you. "We didn't need your help. And you're not joining us." He spits. "You're not going to let her join, right?" He asks Suho.

"I don't know." Suho sighs.

"Suho, everyone around her dies. She's bad fucking luck and if you bring her with us, we're all as good as dead." He spits.

"Meeting." Suho announces.

The four men huddle around, whispering to each other. You can make out Baekhyun and Chanyeol saying yes, and Kyungsoo saying no.

Seconds later they all stand up, Kyungsoo looking pissed with the other two looking happier than a pig in shit.

"If you would like to, we would like to invite you to join us. We know it's tough out here, and I can't imagine what it's been like to be alone." Suho says.

You look between all the men, even if one hated you for no reason, you were tired of being alone, and being scared alone.

"Yes." You announce. "Thank you."

"Come on, our camp is this way." Chanyeol smiles, waving you along. Three men begin walking away, but Kyungsoo walks towards you.

"I don't trust you." He murmurs, moving in close. "If anyone from this group so much as gets a splinter, I'm coming for you." He growls into your ear, his tone is low and very threatening. Goosebumps cover your skin as you feel his hot breath on your ear.

You nod your head.

He turns away from you, running towards the rest of his group.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea?

You felt like your legs were going to collapse as you continued to walk behind the group. Baekhyun turns around, smiling as he announces you have arrived. You look around and see a bunch of trees, but no camp, except for the small campfire pit that sat on the ground.

"It's.. nice." You smile.

Chanyeol, Suho and Baekhyun start laughing.

"Look up." Chanyeol says.

You tilt your head to the sky, and see a decent sized tree house sitting between a few trees. Your jaw drops, this was one thing you had never expected to see. "Come, we'll give you a tour." Baekhyun says, beginning to climb up the swinging ladder. You follow behind Baekhyun, the rest coming up behind you. When you get inside, you're honestly still amazed. It wasn't much but it was safe and it was out of the way and off the ground.

"We pull up the ladder when we're here, and when we all leave we just hide it." Suho explains. "We have food, water and sleeping bags. The most important things. We all pitch in around here, whether or not it's repairs, runs, or fights, everyone helps." He says, looking at you.

"Of course. Whatever I can do to help, I will." You assure them.

"Or don't, I'm not ready to die." Kyungsoo mutters, setting his stuff down.

Your eyes darted over to Kyungsoo, giving him an offended look. He looks back at you, not caring if he's hurt your feelings. You can sort of understand why he's weary of you, but it's not like you killed these people for the hell of it. You were determined to prove that it wasn't you, that you weren't bad luck. How you were going to do that, you had no idea.

That night you sat around a campfire, your belly fuller than it's been in a while, while you listened to stories Baekhyun and Chanyeol shared about their friend group. As it turned out, there were a total of twelve of them when this first started. Some of them were unfortunate to be ones who had gotten the batch of vaccines, a few they had lost while traveling, some died in fights, or took off to find their loved ones.

"Have you come across any of them?" You ask.

"We've looked, but no luck so far. There are two we're still looking for. Oh Sehun and Kim Jongdae." Suho says.

Your heart stops. Your head darts up, looking at him with wide eyes.

"What?" Chanyeol asks.

"What was that last name?" You whisper.

"Kim Jongdae? He was one of our best friends." Suho tells you.

You gulp, there's a ball forming in your throat. "What?" Kyungsoo yells. "What do you know?"

"I.. He said he was trying to get back to his wife and kid.. h-he told me to run and save myself. I wanted to help him b-but I didn't know how." You choke out.

"The man that was bitten at your farm. That was Jongdae?" Kyungsoo asks.

"I saw his license in his wallet.. he had dropped it in my car when we got out. I'm so sorry." You cry.

Kyungsoo rushes towards you, tackling you to the ground, straddling you.

"You fucking bitch, I knew you shouldn't have joined us. It should have fucking been you. You should have died, not him." He screams in your face, spit flying from his mouth as he hands pin your shoulders to the ground.

You're bawling as Suho and Chanyeol pull Kyungsoo off of you, he's still crying and yelling. "It should have been you!" He yells.

Baekhyun helps you off the ground, guiding you to go up into the tree house. He sets out a sleeping bag for you, tucking you in as you cry into the built in pillow. 'I'm so sorry." You whimper.

"I know. And we know it's not your fault. Jongdae was a clumsy motherfucker so I'm not surprised he tripped. Don't take what Kyungsoo says to heart. He's been through alot and he's not warm to new people. Just give him a bit." Baekhyun tells you. He gives you a half smile before climbing down the ladder and sitting back around the fire, helping to calm things down. That night you fell asleep with tears staining your face.

Days bled into weeks, and then into months, until this new life and these men were all that were at the top of your mind. Chanyeol had finally been able to make contact with the ham radio that had been found on one of many expeditions. There seemingly were whole groups of people like yourselves out there, sticking together and trying to survive. You reflected on the wonder of it all as you cleaned the rabbit you had caught, the best you could.

Kyungsoo had become different with you, he didnt give off a hatred towards you anymore. His words didn't cut quite as deep. Slowly you were becoming closer, and you enjoyed it.

Suddenly, you feel a presence behind you, waves of hot breath covering the nape of your neck, sending chills down your spine. He didn't even need to speak, you already knew who it was. "You're doing it wrong." Kyungsoo breathed, his body close to yours.

"I'm not." You retort, continuing to skin the dead animal. You tried to ignore his presence, and that fact that he made you feel so many mixed emotions whenever he was around.

You both hear a crunch of leaves behind you, making Kyungsoo step away from you and turn around.

"What are you guys doing?" Baekhyun asks, raising his eyebrow.

"She's skinning the rabbit wrong. She's going to take off all the meat with the fur." Kyungsoo announces.

"I am not.. shit." You spit, looking on the ground, seeing hunks of meat still attached to the fur.

"Told you." He mumbles, walking away and into the forest to try and find more food.

You stick up your middle finger at the man who drove you crazy day in and day out.

"Y/N." Suho calls out to you, a few hours later. "If you want to take a bath, go to the stream now. It's going to be dark soon."

You nod your head, climbing up the ladder to grab your things. You slide back down, just in time for Kyungsoo to be protesting something.

"We've all got other things to do, you're the only one free." Suho tells him. "Y/N, Kyungsoo will be keeping watch for you."

"I really don't ne.." you start.

"Yes you do." He says, looking at you. "And you will go. That's it."

With an aggravated groan, Kyungsoo stomps off towards the stream, with your speed walking to keep up with him.

As you finish up your wash, you dry yourself off with your towel, pulling your jeans on over your damp legs. You bend down to grab your shirt, when you hear a rustling from behind you. You stand up straight, your heart pounding in your chest.

You hear it again, the sound now closer to you. "Fuck." You scream, running towards Kyungsoo. Your body collides with his, your breasts pressing against his hard chest. "There's something out there." You whisper.

You both hear the sound, Kyungsoo holding onto you as his eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings. Seconds later a deer walks out of the bushes, grazing and you can feel your heart slow down.

"It's a deer." He announces, looking at you. You look back at him, your eyes trailing to his heart shaped lips. Your own set of lips parting slightly as you look back at him, his eyes haven't moved from your face. Without thinking you inch yourself forward, which causes Kyungsoo to inch back. Your stomach sinks. You cannot believe you just did that. Why did you think that he would return a kiss?

"We should head back." He says, avoiding eye contact and clearing his throat.

You feel so embarrassed. You quickly whisper an apology before grabbing your things and taking off, hearing a faint "wait." From behind you. You're running through the words, desperately trying not to cry as you can hear Kyungsoo running behind you.

You finally slow down, trying to catch your breath as your lips quiver. You hear a stick break behind you. You turn around with a sigh, and come face to face with a zombie, snarling as he reaches out for you. You scream loudly as you try to fight it off, tripping in the process. You fall back with him on top of you as he tries to go in for a bite. Black bile is seeping from his mouth, his breath is rancid.

"Help!" You scream out, one hand trying to reach for something, anything that would help you take him out.

Suddenly his body goes limp and you hear the sound of a sword coming out of his head. You roll the body off of you, and see Chanyeol smiling above you.

"Thank you." You sigh in relief. Chanyeol puts out his hand to help you up, when he's attacked. Another zombie staggers up to him, latching his teeth to Chanyeol's neck. He screams out in agony as the monster devours him before your eyes.

"No!" You cry. You take Chanyeol's sword, putting the blade right through the zombie's skull. Chanyeol sinks to the ground, sobbing while he holds his neck. "I'm sorry." You cry. "I'm so so sorry."

"It's.. not.. your...fault." He breathes. "Tell them.. I love them.." he stutters.

Kyungsoo, Baekhyun and Suho rush to Chanyeol's side. Baekhyun is sobbing while Kyungsoo and Suho hold back their tears.

"I didn't.. I didn't know there was a second one." You sob.

Kyungsoo walks over to you, his face stone cold. He wraps one arm around you, pulling you in close to him. "It's not your fault." He murmurs. The two of you stand there, watching the life drain from Chanyeol's eyes.

Baekhyun announces he will be the one to put Chanyeol down, but would like to do it in private. Three of you walk away from the sobbing man, your heart full of guilt.

The next day, the camp is quiet. You were busy making wood spears, like Chanyeol had taught you a few weeks ago. You couldn't even look at Baekhyun. You knew the two of them were best friends and your heart hurt so badly that Chanyeol died while trying to save you.

Had you not been so stupid and tried to kiss Kyungsoo, then this would never have happened. You knew this was your fault and there was nothing you could do to make it better. You can't bring Chanyeol back and you really wish you could.

"Careful." You hear from behind you. You turn your head and see Kyungsoo leaning against a tree. "If you keep sharpening it like that you're going to end up slicing your finger off." He tells you.

"This is how.. Chanyeol showed me how to do it." You say. You could barely speak his name.

Kyungsoo chuckles. "Yeah, he wasn't the best at doing it either." He crouches behind you, wrapping his arms around you to show you the proper way of doing it. Your heart still flutters as he touches you.

"Thank you." You whisper.

"Anytime." He says, standing up and walking away from you.

Fuck. You were so fucked.

That night you couldn't sleep. You stared at the empty spot beside you, where Chanyeol used to sleep. You could hear the small whimpers coming from Baekhyun and you just couldn't take it. You slowly slid out of your sleeping bag, slid on some shoes and climbed down the ladder. As you stand in the forest, you take a deep breath of fresh air. You need to gather your thoughts and heal yourself. You begin walking through the woods. It's quiet, and you didn't plan on going very far. As you're walking, you stop to listen. You hear a noise coming from in front of you but you didn't know what it was. You tried your best to hide behind the tree, limiting your breathing as you continue to listen. You can heat twigs breaking and leaves crunching. Your heart begins to race in your chest, you squeeze your eyes shut.This was a bad idea, you should not have left the tree house.

"What are you doing?" You hear from in front of you. You open your eyes and see Kyungsoo standing in front of you.

"I thought.. oh my god." You sigh. "I thought I was going to die."

Before he can say anything you both hear groans and snarls but you're not sure where from. You unintentionally let out a squeak. Kyungsoo covers your mouth with his hand, pushing you up against the tree. His body presses hard against yours, you can feel his hot breath against your neck.

The two of you stay like this for what feels like hours. When the sound is finally gone he pulls away from you.

"What are you doing out here?" He growls.

"I needed some air, and to think." You explain.

"You could die out here. This has to be your stupidest decision." Kyungsoo scoffs.

"No." You begin. Before your brain can tell you not to say anything, your mouth begins to move. "My stupidest decision was trying to kiss you." You say, turning away from him to walk away.

"I was surprised." He announces. "I didn't think you'd try and kiss me. I didn't think you'd even like me. I treated you terribly." He tells you.

"That's probably why I like you unfortunately." You sigh, making him laugh.

As the two of you are walking back towards the house, you hear whispers coming towards you. You both stop, hearing the sound of a gun loading, making you stop in your tracks. Kyungsoo pulls you behind him, moving both of you towards a bigger tree to hide behind.

"Show yourself walker." A man screams. "I know you're out there."

Neither of you say anything. Kyungsoo is against pressed up against your body, shielding you from any danger.

A while later you see a light flashing. It flashes towards your tree, making Kyungsoo push into you more, trying to keep the two of you hidden. The light passes the tree you're behind and continues to walk away. Neither of you move until the light is completely gone and out if sight. Both of you let out a sigh of relief but Kyungsoo doesn't move away from you. His face hovers close to yours, you can feel his breath on your face.

You wait. You wait for what you hope will happen but you don't think that it will come.

Until it does. Kyungsoo presses his lips to yours. You're shocked at first, until he begins moving his lips against yours and you get into it. You wrap your arms around his neck as he slips his tongue into your mouth. You moan into the kiss, making him groan.

"I want to fuck you." He says, his lips still just barely touching yours.

"I want you to fuck me." You breathe.

Kyungsoo turns you around, pushing you up against the tree. He kneels down, pulling down your sweat pants and underwear.

"Spread your legs." He demands.

You spread them as far as you can. You can hear the sound of his belt unbuckling behind you. Your pussy throbs in anticipation. You don't know how big or small he is, but you hope he destroys you. You couldn't even remember the last time you had been fucked at all.

Kyungsoo steps up behind you, taking two fingers and searching between your lips for your hole. He chuckles when he finds it, he can feel your juices dripping from inside of you. "So fucking wet." He groans, slowly pushing his two fingers inside you. Immediately you clench around them, it feels so good. "I needed to make sure you were wet enough, and fuck are you ever." He whispers in your ear.

He pulls his fingers out of you, and lines his cock up with your hold. You're bracing yourself on the tree as he pushes himself inside you. Your eyes practically roll back into your head as he stretches you out.

"Oh god." You cry, your fingernails digging into the tree bark.

"Shit." He cries, slowly pulling out of you before snapping his hips and harshly pushing his cock back inside. "It's gonna be quick." He groans.

That was fine with you, you knew you could rub your clit twice and cum, it had been too long.

Kyungsoo has his hands holding onto your hips as he snaps his, grunting and groaning from behind you. You reach between your legs, touching your clit. You begin to slowly rub it and you can already feel your intense orgasm already building up. You feel like you're going to cum already. His cock feels so nice sliding in and out of your pussy, the sound of his grunts and moans, with the feeling of his hot breath covering you and giving you shivers.

"Cum." He grunts. Your tighten your pussy around him as you orgasm washes over you, leaving your body feeling weak.

Kyungsoo moans loudly as he pulls out of you, jerking his cock to cum all over your ass. He lets out a string of swear words as he releases his load, breathing heavily as he works through it.

You both pull up your pants, and get situated. "We better get back." He says, walking back towarsa camp. You follow closely behind him, confused about your feelings for him, but more so his feelings for you, if there were any.

The next day you wake up with the thoughts of what happened last night over flowing through your head. You didn't know how to process this, or what was going to happen now. You decided to see how the day was going to play out and just go about your normal routine.

When you got downstairs you said hi to Suho, Baekhyun and Kyungsoo. Two of them said goodmorning back to you, and one did not. You tried to stop thinking about it but it was hard and you knew he wasn't the type of man to tell you his feelings.

However, all day he ignored you. Anytime you tried to say anything to him, he walked away, he refused to answer you and honestly you felt extremely disrespected. Your eyes burn as you fight off the tears, watching him talk and laugh with Baekhyun while you just get ignored.

Suho on the other hand most definitely noticed something was going on because a little while later you see Suho quietly yelling at Kyungsoo.

"I don't care what you did." Suho spits. "Fix it. I refuse to have a hole in our team because one of us is being a dick. Fucking fix it." He murmurs again before walking away.

That night you laid in your sleeping bag, wondering if this is what it was going to be like. You having feelings for Kyungsoo, and him taking advantage of it. Fucking you when it's convenient for him and ignoring you the rest of the time. Even after death, life was still so fucked.

You feel something pressing against you from behind. You slowly roll over and see Kyungsoo laying beside you in his sleeping bag.

"Can we talk?" He asks.

You nod your head.

"I." He begins. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for the way I treated you, I'm sorry for the things I said and for the way I acted when I found out about Jongdae. Its been hard to lose people, and it's even harder to accept new people into the group. You're doing a great job here and we're lucky to have you." He whispers.

"Thank you." You smile. But you really want to know why he ignored you all day. "What was going on today?" You ask.

"I enjoyed last night. I, um, had a girlfriend when this whole thing started. We got out together, we met up with Suho and Baekhyun and Chanyeol and she really helped build alot of this. I lost her a while ago, and it's been hard. I didn't think I would meet anyone, or fall for anyone else and then you came along. I feel guilty for liking you so much, like I'm cheating." He explains. "I was convincing myself it wasn't cheating."

"I get that. I was in a relationship when this thing started. Unfortunately for me, he ended up being one of the ones who received that does of vaccine. I had to leave him in our apartment and take off." You whisper. "You'll always have her memory with you and it's something you'll treasure. I didn't know her, but I'm sure she wouldn't want you to be sad and mourning her."

"You're right." He sighs. "It's hard to let go, but I do like you, Y/N. I want you to know that."

"I like you too." You smile.

The two of you lay there, whispering to eachother, laughing and enjoying the night. You couldn't have asked for anything better.

Over the next few weeks, the others had changed. With Chanyeol being gone, it took a toll on Baekhyun. He often sobbed at night, crawling next to you so you could rub his head while he cried. Your heart went out to him.

This life wasn't easy.

Suho had become much more grimmer and sullen. He barks orders at people, never engaging in coversations anymore. He's tired, everyone is tired with very little of hope for the future. Fighting for your lives everyday, scrounging for food and water is a struggle, however none of this stopped you and Kyungsoo from sneaking off when you could to be together.

Neither of you really talked when you weren't fucking and that was okay with you, you knew he still had feelings for you. It was the little things he did for you when no one was looking that reassured you. You both knew that announcing your relationship to Suho and Baekhyun would not end well, so keeping it between the two of you would be the best.

You announced to Baekhyun and Suho that you were going to the river, they both just nodded while Kyungsoo offered to be your watch.

It didn't take long for him to be pulling off your shirt and for you to slide off your pants and panties. Both of you walked into the cool water, soaking yourselves before Kyungsoo pulled you towards him. He lifts you up, letting you put your legs around him as he leans in for a kiss. You can feel his cock sliding against your pussy, waiting to be pushed in. He breaks the kiss, leaning down to pepper kisses along your neck as he thrusts, pushing himself inside of you.

You throw your head back as he holds you, fucking you harshly. There was never time to fuck slow, you always needed to be quick and get it done, just in case.

He pumps himself into you, his hand reaching between you and him, touching your sensitive bud and rubbing while he pounds his cock into you.

"Fuck baby." He groans. "You feel so fucking good."

You hold him close as your orgasm builds, biting your bottom lip and your hands gripping his hair. "Just like that." You breathe. "Don't stop." You grind yourself on him as you begin to cum, intensifying your orgasm. "Oh god yes." You moan, breathing heavily.

"I'm gunna cum." He moans, thrusting harder. Seconds later he releases himself, shooting his cum inside of you, his head resting on you as he catches his own breath.

"Fuck." He breathes pulling out of you. "I love you." He whispers.

You stare at him with wide eyes. This wasn't something you had been expecting at all, considering you did your best to hide the relationship at all costs. "I know it might be too soon, but I do and I need you to know that."

"I love you too." You smile.

You're brought out of your sweet moment when you hear screaming from Baekhyun and Suho. You both rush out of the water and get dressed as quick as you can before running back to camp.

"What?" You breathe. "What happened?"

Baekhyun and Suho grin as they stare at the radio. "Listen!" Baekhyun yells.

“Our dear citizens, to those who have survived. The WHO has created what promises to be a vaccine. We are asking all our citizens to make their way to the nearest hospital facility. Troops are being deployed along with helicopters and planes to transport as needed. Today … we have hope in the world again”

You all burst into tears. You did it, you survived and met some wonderful people. You have a love you had never thought you'd get again.

Kyungsoo embraces you tightly, crying into your shoulder as you do his. Quickly Suho and Baekhyun join your hug, all of you feeling such relief and happiness, for the first time in a long time.

As quick as you all can, you gather what you need to make the trek to find a hospital. You say a quick goodbye to your site that has kept you safe for so long, before taking off, hand in hand with Kyungsoo, and Baekhyun and Suho on either side of you.

It wasn't long into your journey, when you hear the familiar sounds of zombies wandering through the forest. The four of you prepare yourselves for a fight but as they come out, you realize there are more than you all had anticipated. You try to fight your way through the crowd, but somehow you're separated from the group, trying to take on more than you can. The others are distracted, they aren't paying attention to your calls for help. A zombie lunges at you, knocking you back. You're crying loudly but no one is coming to help. The other zombies kneel beside you as you keep trying to fight them off, but one takes a chunk out of your shoulder. You scream in agony as you lose your strength to fight. They're devouring you as you're fading into the darkness. You can hear Kyungsoo yell no and all the pain stops. You see him standing over you as you spit up blood. He's crying over your body, asking you to stay with him but you can't. You're tired of fighting, you want to let go now.

So you do.

You open your eyes and see a film over everything. Your body is sore, the scent of meat makes your mouth water and your stomach cramp. Everything feels stiff but something smells so good. Your hearing is better than ever, picking up the sound of a rapid beating heart and the sound of crying. Wait…Where’s my heart beat? You look with horror at the meat...

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “I love you.” You reach out to stop the knife but your body is stiff and I responsive as you watch the knife plunging towards you. It’s me you scream in your head as it all goes dark

There is no happiness in life after death.

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tomurasprincess · 4 years

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Kinktober Day 22: Zombie (Voracious)

Day 22: Zombie Title: Voracious Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: Noncon, necrophilia (cause zombie), predator/prey, biting, marking, blood play, yandere Note: Thank you so much to @thewheezingwyvern who is always down to help me without batting an eye when I go “so, zombie plague...what are some good symptoms? And yes, the zombie is going to fuck you.” Also, for the love of everything that is unholy, please mind the warnings. Do not read the fic and come to me to tell me how disgusting it was. Trust me, I know. :)

Kinktober Masterlist

The country of Japan is dead. Or at least close enough that the distinction doesn’t matter.

Several months ago, an aggressive virus leaked from a quirk research facility and spread through the population like wildfire. Nobody was informed about what was going on, and nobody was warned when the virus first began to hit the cities. Officials kept it as quiet as possible, hoping to contain the spread before it got out of control. And before anyone knew how big of a mistake they had made.

But it was far too late for any sort of containment. The virus already spread fast in a lab environment, and it was even faster as it tore through an unprepared population.

The first sign of contracting the virus is tiredness and body aches. The infected simply thought they caught a minor illness, and they continued their business as usual, expecting it to go away on its own. But as the virus continues to spread through their body, the tissues start to die and they develop intense fevers and headaches. By the time the infection makes its way to the brain, confusion and outright delirium has begun to occur.

The infected are wild by this point, feral to the point of attacking, biting, and eating the uninfected. The ones who were bitten and survived had the site of their wound swell and turn agonizing to the touch, and they would suffer the same progression as the other infected.

The final stage is always the same though. Once the black rot of plague starts appearing on your skin and spreading like the branches of a tree, it’s too late.

The worst part is that the infected still have use of their quirks, and the devastation has been immense. Super powered heroes and villains with their minds rotting and decaying from infection, losing the ability to distinguish friend from foe. In some areas, the casualties were even worse from fighting than they were from the virus itself.

Somehow, you have managed to keep yourself alive and stay away from the worst in-fighting and the areas with the highest concentration of infected. Still though, it is a surprise to you. You’re simply a quirkless nobody with no way to defend yourself.

You have seen so many better, stronger people die right in front of you, leaving you forced to continue on alone.

You sigh as you scavenge through an old building that was once a store, looking for more supplies. Yours are dangerously low, and your dry mouth and grumbling stomach tells you that you need to find something quickly, before you become too weak to continue on.

You practically jump out of your skin when you hear the banging of items hitting the ground from deeper within the store. It might be survivors, or it might be the infected. The thought briefly occurs to you that you need to check to make sure, but you quickly shake it away.

Survivors or not, you didn’t come this far by being careless. But as you inch quietly towards the exit, you see a flash of red eyes from within the darkness as something emerges.

No, not something. Someone.

One of the infected.

It’s clear that he’s in the late stages of infection, the black rot spreading out through his body, but most notably his left leg which he drags limply. He’s wearing what are essentially black rags that flow out from behind him, leaving his chest bare so that you can see more of the black spiderwebs of rot twining outwards.

His eyes zoom in on you, narrowing slightly as you stand there frozen in fear. Neither of you moves for what feels like hours, but is really mere seconds. You break out of your trance first, turning on your heel and running for the door. The infected pursues you instantly, jumping over a table rather than running around it to save time. The move is a sign of intelligence that instantly fills you with dread. By this stage, the infected are usually too confused and delirious to remember such things.

You make it to the door with him hot on your heels. You’ve always considered yourself a fast runner, especially lately, but this is an entirely different story. He’s fast, too fast. The infected are not supposed to be like this, especially not with a bad leg. But yet he is quickly catching up to you as you dart through streets you know so well.

You realize that your only chance is to lose him somehow, as you’re never going to be able to outrun him. Your breath is coming in harsh pants already, a stitch burning in your side as you make a sharp, desperate right turn into an alleyway.

An alleyway with a dead end.

This area was clear just a week ago, but now it looks like an infected hero or villain used their quirk to collapse both buildings in the area, causing massive chunks of cement and debris to block the road out. There is no way to climb over the rubble and no handholds or stairs to use to climb up the buildings. You’re completely trapped.

You whirl around quickly, hoping to get out before the infected catches up with you. But you’re too late. He’s already standing at the entrance of the alley, staring you down with heated red eyes. A sharp burst of awareness fills you as you realize exactly who this is. The leader of the League of Villains, Shigaraki Tomura, whose whereabouts have been speculated on for weeks along with the rest of his villain group.

No wonder he’s so fast and so dangerous. The infected retain some level of awareness and ability from the time before, and Shigaraki was one of the most deadly villains in the country.

And if the way he’s acting towards you is any indication, he still is.

You take a step back. He takes a step forward. Another step back. Another step forward. You scan through your chances of getting out of this alive and uninfected, but your mind comes up with nothing.

Your back hits a wall abruptly, and in your split second distraction, the infected is on you. You’re pulled roughly to the ground, hands barely breaking your fall as you land on your front. This is it, you think to yourself, I’m about to be eaten. All this time of running away, of watching people you care about die, all for nothing.

You can’t stop yourself from trembling as you try to brace for the pain of being devoured. But instead, he leans down and buries his face into your neck, sniffing the skin deeply as he pushes your body further onto the ground. His hips are bucking against the curve of your ass, and with dawning horror, you realize exactly what the hard bulge in his pants is.

He grabs your pants and you watch as decay overtakes them and dissolves them into ash. He decays your shirt and bra next, leaving you bare from the waist up and shivering from the cold of his body pressed against you. You’re too scared to move, too scared to do anything.

But when he reaches for your panties, that’s when your paralysis finally breaks and fear takes over. You try to lift yourself up from the ground to run, only to hear a snarl as teeth sink into the flesh of your neck.

You go limp with a choked sob, losing any and all desire to try and get away. It’s all over now. That one single moment has doomed you to infection and madness. The pain of the bite is nothing compared to the despair you feel.

He lets out a pleased hum at your sudden obedience, pulling your panties aside as you feel something cold and hard prodding at your entrance. You barely have time to comprehend what’s happening before your pussy is filled with one sharp thrust of the creature’s hips. The infected aren’t supposed to do this, aren’t supposed to have these urges, you think wildly to yourself. This can’t be happening, it’s not possible.. But it is happening. You’re being taken by this creature like a wild animal in a back alley.

And then he is moving, hips slapping against your ass as his throbbing length pounds into you. There is no gentleness, no precision, just deep, feral thrusts that have you unwillingly clenching. He’s thicker than you’re used to, and the pain of your muscles stretching around him causes you to whine from the back of your throat.

This shouldn’t feel good. You should be horrified, disgusted. You should be fighting tooth and nail to get away, even though it’s hopeless since you’re already infected. But the cold of his cock pressing against your warm walls has your head spinning from the contrast.

He hits a soft, spongy spot inside of you, and you let out a squeal as your stomach tightens. The teeth are removed from your neck, only to bite down in another spot on the other side. He ruthlessly breaks skin, causing blood to run down your front and drip onto the pavement below.

Your body feels like it’s on fire, everything so overly sensitive as his cock forces your walls to stretch open even further as he gets rougher. The hands gripping your hips feel warmer than they were before, fingers digging hard enough into your skin to create bruises. The grunts and groans leaving his throat are positively lewd, and he takes his mouth away only to bite down in between your shoulder blades.

Your scream echoes through the alley as the teeth penetrate flesh, his tongue lapping at the bite and taking deep swallows of your blood. You try to imagine yourself somewhere else, anywhere else so that you don’t think of the pressure building up inside of you and the pain from the throbbing bites now decorating you.

Your nails dig hard into the cement below you as you try to ground yourself and ignore what’s happening, but Shigaraki doesn’t seem to appreciate that at all. He smacks his hand hard against your ass, keeping his pinky raised delicately off your skin in a way that has you worried about his level of awareness.

Now that your attention is firmly back on him, he bites the back of your neck, and you can’t stop the howl that leaves your throat when you feel your skin break, or the orgasm that wracks your body as you feel blood trail down the column of your neck and down in between your breasts.

Tears run down your face as humiliation burns through you, the shame of cumming around this infected villain’s cock almost too much to bear. Almost worse than the fact that you’ll soon be just like him.

“M-m-m - “

Your eyes widen as you glance behind you, seeing the infected concentrating hard as he tries to get words out. He’s stopped thrusting, as if he’s trying to focus entirely on whatever he wants to say. As he opens his mouth, you see his teeth stained with your blood and the sight shoots straight to your core.

“M-m-mine,” he finally manages to stutter out, “mine.” He forces your head down onto the pavement as he begins to ruthlessly pound into you. The infected don’t speak, they’re not supposed to speak -

“Mine,” he snarls, almost as if he heard your thoughts and is trying to prove you wrong.

You’re oversensitive and wet from your previous orgasm, allowing him to fuck you deeply, hitting your cervix with every thrust. You can feel your pussy dripping your juices all over his cock, and the wet squelching noises that fill the alleyway has you shaking with embarrassment.

“Mine, mine mine,” he chants as he bites again and again, each time pausing long enough to take gulps of your blood. Your head is spinning, lightheadedness from blood loss overtaking you. The ground below you has puddles of your own blood where it drips down, and you briefly think that maybe you really will be eaten right here and now instead of being infected and left to wander.

His hand comes in between your bodies to stroke tight circles against your swollen clit as he chuckles deeply into your ear. “Mine,” he whispers darkly. “Why else would I stumble across the cure for the plague if you weren’t meant to be mine?”

Cure for the plague? That’s not possible, there’s no cure for the plague, and you’re completely quirkless -

He bites down one last time, sinking his teeth into the back of your neck and holding you there like a dog refusing to let go of a bone. You realize why immediately when he groans into your heated skin, warmth spreading through your core as he shoots hot ropes of cum directly against your cervix. The pain of his teeth buried into your flesh has you thrown over the edge as well, legs trembling and eyes rolling into the back of your head.

He removes his teeth from your neck once he’s emptied himself inside of you, letting you go as you collapse onto the ground. You roll over enough to meet his eyes, seeing sharp intelligence and contemplation. The black rot is quickly disappearing, color returning to his skin. Within no time at all, you can no longer tell he was ever infected.

“How - I don’t - I’m quirkless - “

“No, you’re not.” He states it matter of factly, as if it was already known. “You have a quirk, it just didn’t have a purpose until the plague. Your blood carries the cure.”

You consider everything that happened, realizing that the more blood he drank, the more human he seemed. The faster the infection was being cured. He snorts at the look of disbelief and then understanding on your face. “With you on my side, I can remake society exactly the way that I want.”

“I am not on your fucking side! You’re a villain who just - “ You can’t even bring yourself to finish the sentence, but Shigaraki has no issues doing it for you.

“A villain who just fucked you and got you off? Such a dirty girl, getting off around infected cock.”

Your face heats up and you instantly glance away, drawing another chuckle from his throat. “I won’t help you,” you say stubbornly, ignoring his previous words.

“Who said I was giving you a choice?” His fingers dig into your arm as he pulls you off the ground. “You belong to me now, and I’m going to do whatever the fuck I want with you. Just think about the power I have now. I control who stays infected and who gets cured. No more hero society.” His voice has taken on an excited, almost manic tone as he considers the possibilities.

“Are you - are you going to let them do what you just did?” You whisper quietly, a single tear running down your face at being used the same way by other people.

He instantly scowls at you. “Of course not.”

You perk up just a bit, until you hear his next words.

“I’ll let you be a blood bag, but for everything else - you’re mine. And I don’t like to share.” He begins to drag you back the way that you came, walking with purpose.

“Now come along. We have so much work to do.”

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

Kinktober: @ichor-and-symbiosis, @thewheezingwyvern, @vixen-scribbles, @katsukisprincess, @hisoknen, @trafalgar-temptress, @leeswritingworld, @burnedbyshoto, @bakugotrashpanda, @dee-madwriter, @kittycatkrissa, @reinawritesbnha, @yanderart, @dabilove27, @fae-father, @anxietyplusultra, @flutterfalla, @angmarwitch, @nereida19, @babayaga67, @fromsunnywithlove, @dabis-kitten, @bakugos-cumsock, @yumeneji, @the-grimm-writer, @iwaizumi-chan, @slashersheart, @bunnyywritings, @bakarinnie, @angie-1306, @emplosion22, @lalalemon101, @videogameboiwhowins, @f4nficbaby, @tenkoshimmy, @baroque-baby, @bbyspiiice, @thirstyforthem2dmen, @blissfulignorance2000, @bluecookies02-main

#kinktober 2020 #shigaraki x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki smut #shigaraki #mha x reader #mha smut #yandere mha #bnha x reader #bnha smut #yandere bnha #bnha kinktober #mha kinktober #tw: noncon #tw: necro #tw: blood play

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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years

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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 16 part one

(Masterpost of All the Recaps) (Canary’s Pinboard)

Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes

All righty, this one is going to be a laff riot...not. Let's do it.

The first half of this episode is like a beautifully executed standalone tragedy, while also threading together all sorts of themes and paying off all sorts of relationship building that's happened in the previous episodes. My hat is off to the writers, while I also shake a fist at them for making me cry an unreasonable amount.

We’re Sailing on a Strange Boat

The episode starts right off absolutely DESTROYING me with the Yunmeng brothers holding hands, fingers interlaced, in the first of many hand-touching moments that punctuate the episode.

Jiang Cheng has to be pretty far gone to accept this degree of comfort and tenderness. I think, from their positions, he is also holding Yanli's hand out of the camera's view.

Zidian finally lets the trio go, and they immediately turn the boat around and head back to Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian gets the clever idea to turn the benches into makeshift oars but nobody gets the clever idea to use magic to push the boat like they do literally every other time they are in a boat.

Their emotional need to go back to Lotus Pier is understandable, but they are being disobedient and irresponsible by doing it. Jiang Cheng is the future of the clan, and should not risk his life, particularly after his mother chose to sacrifice herself to protect him and after both of his parents told him to go hide with his sister and personal bodyguard brother.

On the other hand, Jiang Fengmian, as clan leader, probably had a duty to go into hiding himself rather than go home to die romantically, so his authority is questionable at this point. Anyway, this is the Jiang Clan, they get to kind of do what they want, except when that pisses Jiang Cheng off.

Lotus Pier Massacre

Back at Lotus Pier, the Wens are kicking Jiang ass. The fight choreography is pretty good, taking full advantage of walkways, railings, pools, and other features of the environment.

Using the set this way always makes fights feel more kinetic and real, as opposed to simply sparring in an open area.

(more after the cut)

Yu Ziyuan is fighting adequately with a sword, having given her preferred weapon to her son. She's clearly been at it for a while, and is tiring; the Wen soldiers are starting to land more and more sword blows but no critical hits yet.

Wen Zhuliu is kicking ass and possibly melting cores, although we don't see him do it to anybody yet. Later we'll hear from Jiang Cheng that he crushed the cores of his parents, but it's not clear when that happens.

Sixth young master replays Jiang Fengmian's entire archery lesson in his head while he waits, and waits, for Wen Zhuliu to finish strangling a dude the right moment to shoot an arrow at Wen Zhuliu.

Homicidal tart Wang Lingjiao notices him lining up a shot, strolls over, and stabs him in the back while he's still thinking about what Jiang Fengmian said. One could wish that JFM's archery lessons weren't quite so wordy.

Wang Linjao normally doesn't carry a sword because of her low spiritual power, but apparently can use one just fine when she's killing kids.

If you start feeling like this episode is unreasonably painful, just think of it as building up calluses so you can handle Yi City when the time comes.

Jiang Fengmian to the Rescue

Jiang Fengmian shows up very far past the nick of time, although he is not actually useful, so it's questionable whether arriving earlier would have helped. But his wife is glad to see him.

Netflix subtitles say that Jiang Fengmian calls Yu Ziyuan "My Lady!" which sounds courtly and romantic in English. His actual words are "San Niangzi" which hunxi-gullai breaks out here. I might render this as "lady wife!" rather than "my lady" but I don't think English really has a perfect equivalent.

Jiang Fengmian sails across the courtyard, knocking down a few Wen soldiers and becoming a young, slender man in the process.

I mean, come on, that stunt double does not look like a boxy middle-aged man from any angle.

The Dying Bit

The episode splits up the big death scene for dramatic effect but I'm recapping it all together to keep things simple.

Within moments of arriving, Jiang Fengmian gets shanked by Wen Zhuliu like Scatman Crothers in The Shining (or Groundskeeper Willie in The Shinning).

Wen Zhuliu stops a Wen soldier from finishing JFM off, just so that a different Wen soldier can deliver the killing blow from the back, which is kinda harsh. With all this spin-fighting there is probably not an implication of cowardice when someone dies from a stab in the back, but still. Too rude, Wen Zhuliu.

Yu Ziyuan sees Jiang Fengmian fall, and after having a moment of sorrow and despair, she stabs herself in the heart, falls down, crawls to him and interlaces her hand with his. He revives just enough to give her hand a squeeze and say "San Niangzi" one last time before dying.

She dies next, with a smile on her face at the end. The soundtrack plays that amazing "horribly emotional death scene" music that isn't one of the tracks available on the OST, argh. This same music appears at the end of Xue Yang's story.

Of the many things I love about the Untamed, the complexity of all the minor characters is possibly my favorite. These two people suck at parenting, and suck at being married, and ultimately suck at protecting and leading their clan, making stupid, selfish choices at every step of the building conflict.

And then they have this incredibly romantic death scene, in which they both face the inevitability of failure, and find comfort in failing together. Yet their death scene is totally in keeping with who we know them to be, and who they are to each other; the drama doesn't cheat by making them ideal lovers or great people at the end. But they have a great, great moment.

Jiang Yanli, waiting in the woods while her brothers are presumably running toward Lotus Pier, drops her lotus pendant, which is made of the loudest jade ever discovered, and it breaks with a crash.

Yanli, who is a well educated young lady, knows a moment of doomy symbolism when she sees it.

Jiang Yanli: Who put a giant rock out here in the woods? What are the odds I’d drop my pendant directly on it?

It’s all Over Except for the Crying, Running and Choking

The brothers climb up on the roof and are shocked to see nothing but Wen soldiers and piled up Jiang corpses...

...including one child who is either about to become a zombie or who is being played by a young actor who can't control their curiosity, judging by the way this eye is sneakily opened while the camera is running.

There's a moment where Jiang Cheng is saying they must have spared his parents, they must be okay, where Wei Wuxian's face is just...wow. You can see right here the gulf in life experience between these two.

Wen Zhuliu roams around looking troubled while searching for more people to kill. He’s an interesting villain; someone who believes his loyalty to his boss makes him a good guy, but knows his boss is a bad guy.

Then we are treated to a hell of a camera move, where it tracks over Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian together on the floor, heroic in death and still holding hands, and then sweeps up to show their killers sitting on the lotus throne.

The dead couple were at odds for their whole lives together, while the evil people who killed them are acting like devoted lovebirds. It's a stunning shot and a terrific thematic contrast. When Wei Wuxian eventually comes to take his vengeance, he will spend some time turning Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao against each other, before ending them.

The camera shows us JC's reaction, then shows his mother, then WWX’s reaction, then JF; each reacting to the death of the person who loved them. Some folks may feel that Jiang Fengmian actually did love Jiang Cheng but was just bad at showing it. But Jiang Cheng doesn't think so, and I don't think it's a given that parents love their children.

Side note: Macroexpression king Wang Zhuocheng is able to open his eyes so far that a giant strip of white shows above his irises, and keep them like that, which is quite a trick. Try it yourself.

Meanwhile Wang Lingjiao and Wen Chao gossip about YZY and JFM's bad marriage. Wen Chao admires YZY's beauty, and Wang Lingjiao insults her character, and announces that she's going to stab YZY's body a few extra times. Jiang Cheng briefly faints at this, taking a page from Wei Wuxian's book, and rolls off the roof.

Run Run Away

Both young men run, and run, and run away from Lotus Pier while Wen Chao and Wang Lingjiao mistreat the bodies of Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan

The stabbing happens off camera, because it's ok to stab a live child on camera, but not a dead adult. (As always, there are cultural reasons for "what's ok" in any country, and I'm not saying anybody's wrong about these choices).

Wen Chao follows this up with pouring a cup of wine across their faces. He does this in the style of a libation for the dead, but as a desecration, combining mistreatment of bodies with profaning a ceremonial rite. In a world where ghosts are real and have sharp fingernails, this is deeply, deeply stupid.

Yu Ziyuan’s actress Zhang Jingtong is able to have liquid poured INTO HER EAR without flinching. Mad props.

The brothers eventually finish running and arrive in a field with an extreme purple photo filter on it. Which I've done my best to remove for these gifs, with variable results.

Jiang Cheng wants to turn around and go back to Lotus Pier. He says he wants to retrieve his parents’ bodies and to take revenge, but he's devastated and it seems likely he just wants to die with everyone else.

Wei Wuxian pleads with Jiang Cheng to calm down and stay safe, while Jiang Cheng gives himself over to anger and shock as the brothers shout at each other.

Punching and running ensues, and Wei Wuxian tries to hold his brother back, grabbing him around the shoulders him in a gesture that painfully echoes the many hugs he's given over the years.

This time Jiang Cheng doesn't just push him off. He turns around and chokes his brother for nearly a full minute, while screaming at him and blaming him.

Just as when Madame Yu beat him, Wei Wuxian doesn't fight back; he pulls on Jiang Cheng's wrists but doesn't hit him or try to break his hold.

Finally Jiang Cheng lets him go, and cries out for everyone he's lost, while Wei Wuxian weeps silently next to him. Eventually they fall asleep in the grass together, their bodies curled up in the form of a heart.

Damn, this episode really brings it.

Side Note: during their argument, Wei Wuxian says, among other things, that "revenge is a dish best served cold," according to subtitles. It's a French saying from the 1800s so it's probably not precisely what Wei Wuxian is saying. More importantly, as a longtime Star Trek fan I can't help but hear James Kirk yelling "KHAN!!!!!" whenever I encounter that phrase.

There’s Got To Be A Morning After

When they wake up in the morning, Jiang Cheng is still in his feelings, but now his feelings have moved along to despair, from anger.

I feel bad for noticing how handsome they both look in this scene. Let's all feel bad about this together.

Jiang Cheng is free to have this level of emotional breakdown because Wei Wuxian is there keeping his own shit together and focusing on what matters.

When Jiang Cheng refuses to get up, Wei Wuxian reminds him, very, very gently, that they have a sister, who has waited all night to know what happened.

At this, Jiang Cheng gets up, but won't look at Wei Wuxian, continuing to blame him for everybody else's actions, as he walks onward to find Yanli.

Wei Wuxian follows, hurt and bereft, as he gets to work internalizing everything that he's being accused of. This is good practice for his future as a widely reviled bogeyman.

Part two will be slightly less awful! Coming soon!

#fytheuntamed #the untamed #the untamed gifs #the untamed meta #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #restless rewatch the untamed #canary3d-original #my gifs #yu ziyuan #wen zhuliu #jiang fengmian

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tribow · 3 years

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So I watched Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress

First of all I just want to say that anyone who calls this show an Attack on Titan clone is dumb as bricks and either didn't watch it or were unable to admit they were wrong because of their own sense of pride. Are there similarities and/or inspirations? Sure, but Kabaneri's story and conflict are extremely different from Attack on Titan.

With that out the way, Kabaneri is an anime original written by Ichiro Okouchi and directed by Tetsuro Araki. Okouchi is the name that caught my attention as he has done screenplay for a lot of stuff I like and has also done the writing for SK8 the Infinity which I heard a lot of people were enjoying.

I kept my expectations low since I heard a lot of people were dissapointed by Kabaneri, but now having watched it I don't understand why. This isn't a masterpiece or anything, but it's pretty enjoyable and doesn't waste any time. In fact, it could have used more time if anything.

The only issue I would say this anime runs into is time constraints. It clearly had much more story to tell, but with only 12 episodes it can only do so much. The story keeps a heavy focus on what is currently happening and does not spend much time fleshing out the details or doing much world building. There are some characters who end up experiencing developments off-screen as well. With a longer run-time this anime would be golden, but it is what it is.

Anyway, the general plot is that there is a zombie outbreak that has happened during what seems to be industrial revolution times for Japan. These zombies are called Kabane. They lack much intelligence, but they're superhuman and difficult to take down. The story starts probably several years into this apocalypse. A city* (might've been a town) has gotten infiltrated by the Kabane and the survivors barely manage to escape by train. The rest of the story follow these survivors and I found that pretty cool. You don't see many stories have a train as its main setting.

I left out a lot of details, but I believe the impact of the characters would not hit as hard if you knew what their deal was before watching. For the most part, these characters are pretty good. Their motivations make sense and the decisions they make do not betray who they are. Some characters make stupid decisions, but those decisions are believable and that's very important.

Outside the conflict of survival, there's other conflicts the characters must deal with as well. Knowledge about how the Kabane work is very minimal. Many believe them to be more cunning than they actually are and treat them like some kind of youkai hiding in society. That fear can frequently make the situation worse by exaggerating what the Kabane are actually capable of. It's a common theme explored in the show. Speaking of society, the way the government responds to this apocalyptic situation is also a conflict in its own way. Will the government abandon the people to protect itself or will it use its influence to stand and fight? Both options are explored in different ways and I found that nice.

However, as mentioned before many of these conflicts are not given the chance to be fully explored so you may end up not getting enough information to be satisfied with the answer you got, or maybe you get no answer at all. It's really a shame. Perhaps the manga adaption expands on this more, but I haven't read it so I wouldn't be able to tell you.

I have watched the movie, "The Battle of Unato" though. Without explaining much, it sucked. The conflicts were super forced and it did not come up with good excuses for the dumb shit that happened. The ending was nice but overall it sucked. It doesn't even expand on the world building. Netflix also released it as a 3-episode anime instead of a full length movie. Way to ruin its pacing. It's a full-length film not an episodic series, what the hell were they thinking?

My hatred of Netflix's practices aside, the animation of Kabaneri is amazing, and I'm not just talking about the movie. The television series is just as good. It was handled by Wit Studio (yes, the same people who did Attack on Titan). If you know anything about them then you know they're good. Everything about the animation is great. Character expression is exceptional and the aesthetic is simply perfect throughout the show. There's some great visual storytelling done as well sometimes. Action scenes are stellar cause of course they are. Wit Studio is great.

The music is really good as well. The ending theme is amazing and one of the best I've ever heard. They knew it was good too, there's some orchestral arrangements of it used during the show, or sometimes they'll just straight up play the song. It happens almost too much, but I don't blame them, that songs slaps like no other.

I would recommend this anime for sure to anyone that's interested. (maybe not the movie though). The time constraint issue does harm this show a lot and I have some minor gripes, but it's still really good despite that. I don't like the idea that Kabaneri will be remembered as some Attack on Titan clone, it deserves more respect than that. Plus, it's an anime original! Stuff like that should be supported.

#text #anime #review #kabaneri of the iron fortress #koutetsujou no kabaneri #attack on titan #shingeki no kyoujin #This should be remembered as a good show that needed more time to flesh itself out

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peterrparrkerr · 3 years

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Zombie apocalypse au - read on ao3

*-*

Peter doesn't remember life before the virus. He was only five when everyone got sick.

He's seventeen now, and he's never set foot outside of the city. Well, outside of the tower.

There's a curfew -has been since the virus. Those who go into the city for supplies or to work the garden and tend to the livestock have to be inside by five every day.

Peter doesn't have a green thumb, nore does he have a way with animals. And he's got two left hands when it comes to weaponry. So he stays in the tower.

The tower used to be Stark Industries. When the outbreak hit New York, people locked themselves inside, tried to wait it out.

Peter had been with his aunt. She tells him they'd gone to get ice cream and bring some back to his parents.

Aunt May had ran into the closest building -Stark Industries- and had hidden in the basement with Peter. He doesn't remember.

Tony Stark -the owner of Stark Industries- had offered his penthouse to the few who had taken refuge in his building.

After a week, many of the workers left, off to find their families. They never came back.

A month passed, and scouts confirmed the virus had taken over the whole city. Stark tower was the only building the monsters couldn't get to.

So, it became home. Peter grew up running up and down the industrial hallways, playing with the golden retriever one of the hideaways had.

He didnt know anything different. Everyone took care of him, raised him. He was the only kid in the tower.

He might even be the youngest living being in all of New York at this point.

His favorite people to visit and hang out with were Steve and Bucky. They had been walking their new puppy Goldie when the world ended.

They had been married for ten years before. They celebrated their twenty year anniversary a couple years back. Goldie was almost eleven, and didn't like playing as much with Peter -though she still liked to sit with him in the living room when he tinkered with old tech.

Natasha and Clint worked on the ground, so Peter didn't see them much. They could fight a whole swarm of monsters and not get bit. They were the best.

Bruce and Aunt May tended to the garden under their watchful eye. Steve, Bucky and Sam took care of the livestock.

Its strange. The zombies leave animals alone. They only go after people.

Tony, Bucky and Clint go scouting a lot. They run the city, looking for any survivors, or anything the tower could use.

The tower is self-sufficient thanks to Tony's genius. He'd been working on making the entire tower self-sustaining even before the outbreak.

He's only managed to get the top three floors. The rest of the tower has no electricity or running water. That's fine though. Theres not many of them left, and three floors is plenty of space.

The living area is the penthouse. They eat, sleep and breathe there. The second floor down holds all of Tony's old tech, and projects in the works. The third floor down is the weapons and medicine floor.

Peter is on the second floor when the scouting party comes back. He only knows this because of the AI Tony created tells all three floors when people come or go.

Peter sets down his tools and rushes for the staircase. He sails down them and opens the door bodily, nearly falling flat on his face.

"You're back," Peter called, running down the short hallway to the ammunition room. Clint, Bucky and Tony are all unloading their haul and their weapons.

Clint's weapon of choice is a bow and arrow, as well as a long range rifle -he's the eyes, always taking out zombies before they get close enough to spot them.

Bucky is unloading his knives and pistols. Hes best at close combat.

Peter jumps onto the table, watching as Tony checks the magazine of his .9mm, then settle it back into the holster on his thigh.

"How was it," Peter asked, eyeing the two duffle bags on the table, surrounded by magazine clips and disassembled weaponry.

"We made it all the way to the hospital this time," Bucky grinned. Peter's eyes widened. They don't get to the hospital that often, since its clear on the other side of the city, and usually swarming with zombies.

They don't need to go on medical runs much anyway, but Tony likes to keep stocked in case.

"And we hit the motherload," Clint grinned, unzipping one of the bags and revealing canned food from vegetables to soup, the labels all sun bleached and color faded.

"Whoa." Peter reached in, pulling out an old Cambells can, looking at the faded red and white label. He can barely make out the words. "Tomato soup!"

"Thats not all," Bucky hummed. Peter looked up just as Bucky reached into his back pocket.

Peter sets the can down and his eyes widen when Bucky pulls out a deck of cards.

"No way!" Peter leaps off the table, snatching the cards.

"Its a full deck," Bucky grins proudly. Their current deck was a mix of two different cards, and cardboard and plastic pieces they'd drawn the suits and numbers on.

It made it hard to shuffle, and they all knew the suit and number of the makeshift cards. It made for a boring game.

Clint laughed and ruffled Peter's curls before grabbing the food and heading for the penthouse to restock their cupboards.

"Thanks, Bucky," Peter grinned, pulling the cards out of the brand new -but still sun faded- case. He's never seen cards this new before.

"Dont thank me, Tony's the one who spotted them," Bucky said, giving Peter a knowing grin before grabbing the medicine and heading for the medical wing.

Peter blushed, then turned to Tony -who wasn't there. He scowled and looked around in confusion. He didnt notice him leaving.

Peter quickly puts the cards back in the protective box and drops them into his cargo shorts pocket before running out of the room.

After raids, Tony usually likes to spend time with his old tech -projects he'll never be able to complete, in a workshop he'll probably never get rid of.

He finds Tony at one of the work benches, fiddling with something Peter -to this day- can't figure out what it is.

"Hey," Peter said, walking over to him and sitting down on the stool at the end of the bench. Tony glances up and gives a small smile.

"Thanks for the cards," Peter continued, picking at his nails and looking down at his lap. "Bucky said you got them for me."

"You're welcome, kid," Tony hummed, eyes focused on a project he'll never finish. Peter thinks it makes Tony feel better. Makes him feel like he's back to before the virus, when he was making things all the time and helping people.

All he's got now are old robots that break down more often than they run, and dust over most of the place he used to call home.

All Tony has is JARVIS and the others, but Peter sometimes gets the feeling that that sometimes isn't enough for Tony.

The two sit in silence for a while, Tony hard at work, and Peter deep in thought.

"Hey Tony?"

Tony hums.

"Whats it like dating?" Peter says it fast, worried he'll lose his nerve and chicken out. Tony stops his fiddling and looks over, raising an eyebrow.

"Are you asking for dating advice?" Tony asked. Peter can't meat his eyes when he nods and Tony sets his tools down. "Who's the lucky person you're crushing on? Anyone I know?"

"You know everyone I do, Tony," Peter huffs. Tony crosses his arms and smirks, amused. Peter hunches his shoulders.

"Who is it?" Tony asks.

Peter takes a deep breath. He's gotta just come right out and say it. If he doesn't, he'll never do it and then it'll be too late.

"You," he breathes. Its quiet. Peter's hands sweat. This was a bad idea.

"Pete," Tony sighs. Peter manages to look up. Tony looks pained, regretful. Its not the look Peter wanted to see. "I'm too old for you."

"So?" Peter finds himself asking.

"So, you should be dating people your own age."

"Do you know of any other seventeen year olds running around?" Peter asked, waving his hand around dejectedly.

"There's always a chance-"

"Please don't," Peter interrupts. "Please? Its been twelve years. No ones come looking for us, you haven't found anyone during your raids. Its just us."

Tony opens his mouth to speak, but Peter's on a roll now, and he can't stop even if he wanted to.

"And don't say to wait. I've been waiting. For all we know we're the last people on earth not a zombie, and I want- I want to have my first kiss before I'm forty."

"Peter-"

"I want to experience things," Peter continues, steamrolling over Tony. "I want to go outside, and I want to have a boyfriend and I want to have sex-"

"Kid-"

"Please, Tony," Peter said. "I like you, and- and I don't want to experience this with anyone else in the tower, and I don't want to wait for the point one percent chance of someone my age coming along."

"Listen, kid," Tony sighs.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Tony," Peter said, sounding desperate. He looks at Tony with wide eyes, begging for the older man to understand.

Tony -hell, everyone in the tower- had a life before the virus. They got to experience the world. Peter hadnt.

Its all he wanted. He wanted a normal life. A life he was robbed of. He's desperate for it.

Tony doesn't say anything. He looks at Peter, calculating. Peter sees his shoulders begin to slump, and finally he breaks. Peter feels a little giddy at the thought of getting his way, though he remains put.

"No," Tony said on a sigh. "I suppose you're not."

Peter doesn't know whatto say after that. He's made his case, there's nothing more to say.

"Its hard," Tony said after a while. "I still think of you as a kid. I still think you're ten."

Peter chews on his lower lip, head dipped down and shoulders hunched in on themselves.

"So you don't like me back?" He managed to ask, even as his tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth.

"Kid-" he sighs. "Peter."

Tony settles a hand on Peter's shoulder, and Peter looks up at him.

"I like you," he says. Peter feels himself beginning to smile and quickly clamps that down, biting his lip. "God knows this situation isn't ideal. This would've been bordering on illegal, before."

"If you're uncomfortable, I understand," Peter said. Tony shakes his head.

"Thats not what I'm saying, Pete."

Peter didn't know what he was saying then.

"If we're going to try this out, there's gotta be rules," Tony continued. Peter looked back up at him.

"First rule is there's no hiding it. If we're gonna date, everyone knows about it or its not happening."

"Okay," Peter nodded.

"And we're taking this slow," Tony adds. "Like, cold honey slow, got it?"

"Got it," Peter nodded. His smile is getting too wide to hide. Tony's hand squeezes his shoulder.

"Good."

He removes his hand from Peter's shoulder. He gives Peter a small smile back.

"Could- is kissing going too fast?" Peter asks. Tony's smile grows a little, and he shakes his head.

"No, its not too fast."

The older man leans forward and Peter eagerly closes the distance between them.

The kiss is close lipped, and their noses press against each other, but its perfect.

#marvel #peter parker #tony stark #starker #ao3 #sfsummerbingo21 #my writing

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carminite-wyrm · 3 years

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Its an Empires SMP + Wynncraft crossover AU I guess

So, I’ve been playing a lot of Wynncraft recently, and man, the Wynncraft lore sure is wild. Halfway through doing a quest I suddenly remembered that hey, nether corruption sure is a thing over here, and isn’t there Also an invading corruption storyline going on over in Empires?

Anyways so here I am with yet another niche AU idea lmao (though also with the latest videos from Pix and Gem I...kind of already am thinking of a variant on this one lmao)

- Some indeterminable point in time in the future, the Empires gang are having the final fight against Xornoth, ready to take out the demon and cleanse their world of the corruption that had been taking hold of their kingdoms.

- Its down to the final few blows, with the Kings and Queens coming together, despite their grievances with one another, despite all the differences that had once been between them, to finally strike down the demon.

- Naturally, of course, it goes a little sideways.

- The final blow lands, and the hellish arena disappears in a flash of unholy light.

- When the heroes awaken, they find themselves in a spider-infested patch of woodland.

- Upon fighting/running their way out, they quickly realise that yeah, this sure isn’t the Empires SMP anymore.

- There are some shenanigans, probably, upon that realisation, but eventually, the group makes their way to the nearby city of Detlas, severely disconcerted by the clear presence of corruption in the land around them.

- They’re fairly certain that they saved their own land, only to land right in another world also beset by corruption.

- Their various communicators also seem to be displaying a different HUD from what they’re used to, including an actual mana bar along with their health, and more equipment slots and most baffling of all: the option to level up and increase a variety of skills.

- Also, there’s magic, though a different magic than what they’re used to

Added to that, the monsters are far more different to what they’ve encountered in their home world. Zombies, fairly standard, even if the ones in this strange land seem somehow more powerful than theirs. Spiders, easy. And then Joey stumbles across a flaming horse rocketing straight at him at roughly 40kmph, screeching demonically all the while. It narrowly misses pummelling him in the face with its hooves and oh, looks like this isn’t a standard world after all.

Character classes and more thoughts under the cut!

Character classes! (Wynncraft currently has 5 classes people can choose from!)

Warriors (uses polearms/hammers, generally the dps/tank build)

Scott – He has a pink battleaxe, yes of course he’s the heavy-weapon-using class. Also, bc I think it’d be really amusing to see this elf dude w/ an antler crown charging straight at someone with a massive axe/hammer/polearm.

Fwhip – King of the Grimlands, projecting an image of strength even as the corruption ran rampant and clashed with the inherent darkness of his own kingdom.

Lizzie – Ocean Queen w/ a Trident, enough said. Sure, there might not be any axolotls in this world for some reason, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have the powers that made her one of the most powerful Empires back home. Probably mains thunder elemental magic, bc sending chain lightning at enemies is very cool.

Mages (Magic staff goes brr. Also they can heal)

Gem! – I imagine she’d be highly adept at hitting enemies with the regular attack spell, and then suddenly casting a meteor and crystalline ice to obliterate her foes as the rest of the party watches on.

Katherine – Teleporting + fast attacks = magic menace. Also bc I think it’d look cool for her, and honestly that’s the majority of my decision-making here w/ the class selections

Pixl – Idk, something about the vigil and the whole candle thing makes me think he’d make a pretty damn good healer. Calm, collected, and the most unshakeable amongst the chaos of the Empires gang. (This AU idea was written like, a week before the latest video lmao so we're just gonna...gloss over the most recent plot developments for a bit until I can figure out how to make it make sense in the AU)

Assassins (Stabby stabby DPS)

Joel – Look I just think the imagery of Joel + Lizzie absolutely wrecking shit together on a battlefield is too good to pass up on.

Sausage – Man literally ran an assassin guild back in their home world, of course he’s an assassin here in this one. Probably has several sets of daggers hidden up his sleeves, and probably ends up with a life steal build.

Pearl – Pearl with knives would be terrifying and amazing to behold. On the other hand, I was considering either Mage or Shaman but we already have like three Mages, and I don't really have any ideas for how Pearl would utilise the Shaman abilities atm.

Archers (Ranged DPS or support)

Jimmy! – Swamp boi deserves to pop off and what better way than to be able to cause arrows to rain from the sky. And also to backflip out of danger. I imagine navigating a swamp has given him an actual dexterity or agility score.

Shaman (Buffs + support)

Shubble – Honestly I think she’d really vibe with the nature-y vibes this class kind of gives me, what with her mushroom kingdom vibes and the magic. Also, one of the most complex classes, but considering Shubble and her whole researching the corruption thing, I think it’d fit.

Joey – I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know much about his POV beyond ‘wants to court the demon’ at the moment, so contributions welcome here.

- Gem and Shubble’s initial investigations (because they absolutely hit the first library or archive they could find) whilst the others explored/adventured around the area eventually lead them to determining that in order to return to their own world, they’ll have to make their way to the most dangerous region of the Wynn region: The Silent Expanse.

Defeating whatever entity is chilling deep in that eldritch hellzone that’s pinging off Gem and Shubble’s (w/ machinery assistance from Pixl) cobbled-together ‘machine for detecting their world’s own magic’ should be enough to trigger the same event that sent them to this world. They think. Its enough for them all to hope, at any rate.

- Its an odd feeling, being at the height of their powers only to be thrust into a world where a tap from an armoured skeleton can take them down to a third of their health in one hit, at their current ability level.

- The party starts off at roughly level 5-7 btw, because I’ve had to do the tutorial quest and Enzan’s Brother quest like six times and I want to skip that here thanks.

- Eventually, the group does have to split into smaller parties for efficiency, though they’re understandably hesitant to be separate from everyone else in an unfamiliar world.

- Obviously, the parties do shuffle around a bit depending on what quests they end up undertaking, to play for each of their strengths and to cover for their weaknesses.

- Because they’re the Kings and Queens of the Empires SMP, they climb up the levels fairly rapidly, racing through quests in Ragni, Detlas, Nemract, Almuj, before finally venturing across the ocean to the province of Gavel.

- They’re well aware that something rather bad is going on in this world, something that looks and feels so similar to the corruption back home, but yet not.

- Their first encounter with the Parasites in the Dark Forest has those more in tune with the currents of magic, or the natural world, recoiling from the feeling of ‘wrong wrong that should not be in this world-‘

After that harrowing encounter, they are very, very glad, that in their world, the source of the corruption was clearly from a pesky demon, and not the result of warring planar powers.

One would think that, as the resident swamp dweller of their motley group, Jimmy would have been a tad more relaxed in the Olux Swamp. And yet, the magic from his Empire has him on edge throughout their travels in that area, the lingering sense of foreign magic, of what the locals refer to as the Decay, worrying away at the familiar scent of the swamp.

#empires smp #empires smp au #wynncraft + empires crossover au #carminite writes #im actually still working on the sunless skies hc au btw #the ficlet that's kind of becoming a fic at this point is just getting a bit long lmao so here's another au idea

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milstrim · 3 years

Text

Flesh and Bone and Heart

Chapter 1: “You have to let go.”

AO3 Link

Everything was bleak. Russet red skies painted a deep orange over every building and skyscraper. Over bodies of sickly green skin and the newly familiar sight of pools of blood stained to sidewalks and walls.

Peter hadn't quite gotten used to the bleakness yet, and he didn't want to. There was still hope after all. Even if he and Happy were the last New Yorkers left in a city of 8.4 million. There had to be other people alive, other groups of survivors across America, waiting for a cure. Because there had to be a way to more than survive this, even if the virus had wiped out the Avengers in a day...

He shook his head of the thought, squaring his shoulders and resuming his vigilant watch from atop the nondescript gray building he had called home the last couple of days. There was hope, and Peter would help the ragtag team that adopted him into their ranks to see it, even though he was sure they didn't see it like he did. There had to be hope after all. Humanity couldn't end because of one mistake. Aunt May couldn't be gone forever. Ned couldn't be a zombie without being allowed to have had a nerd-freak out over the whole thing. Mr. Stark couldn't be replaced by a husk of his former self.

It was impossible for Peter, to stare out at the city every day knowing about the looks the others shared when they thought he wasn't looking. How Happy would stare sullenly. How Sharon would always speak to him a little softer than the day before. Even Kurt, who had been the only one willing and able to match Peter's enthusiasm and attempts to keep everyone's spirits lifted, would drop the act the moment Peter wasn't in the room. He knew. He could hear everyone in their building, after all.

Which was why Peter sat on the building now.

The group had all formed three weeks into the apocalypse, not so easily fitting together but still managing to find how they all worked. His powers definitely made Peter one of the most powerful assets to the team, which was why he was usually on watch or patrolling around for where most of the infected were concentrated. Where once he might have preened at finally feeling so important--so seen--now he wished more than anything that he could shrink away. That his powers weren't needed so badly to keep a handful of survivors away from a fate almost worse than death.

He wished that everything was okay.

Even if it wasn't. And it might never be.

The screen of his mask caught something. Peter readjusted, narrowing his eyes as Karen zoomed in. He relaxed. It was just a small group of normal but infected New Yorkers. As long as everyone inside was quiet and kept up their normal routine, there was little danger there. It wasn't like it was Mr. Stark or those weird portal guys that would've gotten Peter weeks ago had Hope not shown up. They were dangerous, and usually who Peter kept his eye out for. Karen was always on the job tracking Mr. Stark, but the teenager had gotten used to training his eye for the familiar glinting red regardless.

With a quiet sigh released in a huff under his breath, Peter wiggled into a more comfortable crouch, watching the zombies until they filtered away onto a different street and out of his sight.

"Is there a street camera around there, Karen?" he asked, his voice a strained whisper. Two months into the zombie apocalypse the teenager had finally trained himself to make every word small. To treat every sentence like a danger. Sometimes Peter thought it was funny, that he'd had to learn to be quieter. May had always been so loud she'd been confused as to why he was so soft-spoken and he would joke that she was losing her hearing in her old age. But those smile-inducing thoughts would make his features fall with regret and guilt and he'd shove them away as quickly as they came.

"Of course, Peter. Here," his faithful AI responded, the video popping up on his screen. It showed the people continuing to stumble away, so he waved the video away. No real danger. Just a normal, boring, and tense day in the apocalypse.

The high schooler thanked the AI as the video disappeared, forcing his strained shoulders to drop and relax. It was something he'd found himself doing a lot recently. The apocalypse was, well, it was the apocalypse. It was dangerous and nerve-wracking and every breath was filled with a tired guilt that made his chest feel stale. But it also lacked a lot of action. Especially recently. The past two weeks had been a strange mixture of the constant need to be vigilant but with a significant lack of things to do.

It wasn't incredibly hard to get food. Most zombies had moved from being indoors to try and hunt better--like there was really anything left to hunt--leaving supermarkets vacant and easy to raid. It wasn't hard to watch out for infected intruders. Two people were always on watch. Important items were always ready to be moved and Karen kept a constant eye on security cameras around whatever building they were occupying that week. And Peter was left with little to do to occupy his thoughts.

He didn't want to think. Not about his situation. Not about the world. Not about his family and friends. He wanted to fight. He wanted to do.

Sometimes the teenager would try and piece together a semblance of a cure. Many zombies had rotted away completely, and there were vacant labs dotted around New York. He could try his hand at his chemistry knowledge and combat what he could. But every attempt, no matter how promising, had always ended in failure.

Peter couldn't make a cure. He was smart, but he was only sixteen and a half. He was a kid and he couldn't do it.

But there was a different sixteen year-old that maybe could.

Miss Okoye had arrived yesterday, in a shiny ship that had bled out of the air and landed in the open space in Avengers tower where the Quinjet should have been. Peter had been on watch then too, but he hadn't seen the plane land at the building across the city, it was invisible after all. Instead, Karen had alerted him and the teenager had immediately leapt off the building towards the tall and lonely ghost of a tower.

(His first day in the lab had been so tense and awkward. He hadn't known what to say and Mr. Stark hadn't known what to do. Peter had been so nervous he'd nearly burnt his hand off while doing simple wiring. Mr. Stark had panicked so bad--grabbing his hand and having Friday scan it and double-checking it himself when he didn't quite believe the AI--his cheeks blazed red and then Peter had burst out with loud giggles at the panic.)

Peter had arrived quickly and without interruption from a certain flying zombie, with enough time to warn Miss Okoye that Mr. Stark's suit also got alerts when something entered the tower and that they needed to leave immediately. Thankfully, he and the warrior had left before anyone could arrive and Peter had gotten to ride in a super-freaking-cool Wakandan ship. It hadn't quite distracted him from being back at the tower, but he'd let everyone think it had.

Now the group was making a decision. He could hear them faintly a few floors below, their voices murmured and concerned. It was hard to make out what they were saying exactly, but he couldn't quite say he cared. Certainly not enough to have Karen enhance the sound and let him know every word that was being said below. He had found that happening a lot recently. Not caring. At some point everything had become too much and his brain felt much too much like wet tissue paper to try and purse through anything in there other than I wish I wasn't awake. I wish I wasn't here. I wish someone else had survived instead of me. Someone who was ready.

But there wasn't anything else. And Wakanda would be safe, if they managed to make it there.

That was the debate.

Did they go search for a man who'd been thought to be dead and lost days into the apocalypse, or pack up and go to the last safe haven on Earth? Miss Okoye had her goal, with or without them--that, she had made very clear. But the rest of the group was split, and something they had decided when they'd first met was that the group should never split. And so, the debating. The arguing. All in whispered murmurs that had to be stifled to nothing if Peter ever gave the signal that an infected group was nearing too close for comfort.

The teenager hadn't heard much of the argument, hadn't made much of a point to pay attention to it, but he knew where everyone lay. Happy was ready to retreat to Wakanda, and Peter couldn't blame him. He didn't have superpowers, he wasn't trained, and the teenager was sure that it had been quite a blow to not only lose all of his friends but to have to depend on a snot-nosed teenager afterwards. Peter wanted Happy to go too. Traversing the zombie-infested country was a death wish for anyone who wasn't in better-than-peak fighting condition.

Kurt wanted to go. Bucky and Sharon wanted to fight.

Hope wanted to fight, but she wanted Peter to go.

Peter didn't want to go.

He wasn't an Avenger, but neither was she. There were no Avengers left. But he was the Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man. It was his responsibility to help his community, and hiding in Wakanda wouldn't help. If there was a fight, some way to help, Peter would take it.

Finally tired of the silence, he opened his mouth to ask Karen to let him listen to the debate, when a tingle--shocking and cold and running a shiver of goosebumps along his arms--stopped him. Immediately the teenager was on high alert, his muscles tightening in anticipation as he searched for the danger.

"Where's the Iron Man armor?" he snipped quietly to Karen. A screen popped up immediately, showing the armor still in Manhattan. He furrowed his brows. "Okay. Okay. Is it the wizard guys? Karen, search through security cameras nearby and alert the others that something is--"

He cut himself off at a painfully sharp tingle, instinct directing his chin up to stare at the tired russet sky. Except the laziness of it was gone now, replaced now by a fierce fire of ruby red, leaching out from a strange bright spot in the sky. A meteor. Great. The zombie apocalypse, now a meteor, what next? Nuclear war between the zombies?

Karen zoomed in on the meteor heading straight for Manhattan and--no. That wasn't a meteor. Was that--a person? Oh my, God, it was a person.

Said person zipped out of sight just as that thought registered, disappearing among the buildings. Towards where he knew Mr. Stark was.

Peter didn't even weigh his options. A person (alien or possibly already dead) was heading towards the most zombie-infested area of the city. He had to try.

And without a second thought, he slipped off of the building and began swinging.

"You're not going to convince him!" Happy snapped, his frustration bubbling over. The argument had taken up much of the night before and pretty much all day now. All held in stifled and angry whispers that only made the man angrier as he was forced to keep his voice low and repeat what he'd been saying for hours now. "You've known him for months now! You know you can't."

"He's a kid," Hope pushed back, her voice just as steely as when the argument had started. "He doesn't need to be in the middle of this--even if you and Stark thought it was a good idea. If there's a safe haven in Wakanda, that's where he needs to go."

"And lose one of our most powerful members?" Sharon said. "Look, I don't like the kid fighting any more than you do, but we can't really go anywhere without him. I doubt we'd ever even get out of the city without him."

Hope glared at the agent, aghast. She'd been backed into a corner for hours now, but the woman had refused to back down, spitting and snarling her argument through furious whispers and an exaggeratingly patient voice. Her hard stare examined the faces around the table, looking for some sign of agreement that Happy wished he could offer.

Happy had seen what had happened to Tony. He'd been there when Pepper had turned. When Peter had come bounding through the window of the tower and snatched him towards their new semblance of safety while blubbering about his Aunt and his friend and the state of the city. All in one afternoon.

The former bodyguard thought back to that afternoon a lot. It was clearer in his mind more than almost anything in his life. It had been a gray day. One that turned the sky white and hung heavy in the air and cooled the once bustling streets of New York. It had been strange for the end of spring, but appropriate for the world.

Tony and Rhodes had both been infected, along with the rest of the Avengers, that much they'd known since Friday had reported their vitals completely askew. Happy hadn't told Peter yet, but he'd assumed the kid had already known. The entirety of the West coast had been swallowed, but shaky live footage of people's last moments and journalists as brave as they were stupid had been on a repeating cycle of news for the last thirty-six hours. Peter had never been particularly on top of the news, but Happy had heard how he'd begged Tony to go and help the Avengers. He'd remembered the heart-breaking anxiety and the admittance of a terrible feeling from his Peter Tingle.

But Tony had made Peter stay. He'd told Happy to make sure the kid didn't run off or 'stick his nose into anything that he shouldn't.' Happy's best friend had left with a tight smile. Happy had said good luck.

And now Tony was gone.

Or, more accurately, Tony had spread the infection among the entirety of New York in four hours.

Happy remembered a lot about that day, but he still wasn't sure why Tony had come back to the city. The bodyguard couldn't read brain scans, but Friday had said Tony was practically a shell after fifteen minutes. And a shell had no reason to return home.

He guessed the why wasn't terribly important, because Tony had returned, heading straight toward the tower.

Happy had been about the leave, actually. After watching news footage of Natasha--on her own, bloodied and torn and still trying to fight--finally losing an impossible battle, he knew he'd needed to pick up Peter and May. They needed to get to the compound and try to figure out how to keep the world from breaking. With the Avengers gone there had to be another solution. Maybe it was going to be harboring scientists on a heavily fortified government base. Maybe it was going to be finding other heroes, like Fury had done. The world was so big, there had to be more superheroes--but it hadn't worked out like that.

He'd been on the phone.

"I'm leaving now," he'd said to Pepper, stepping into the elevator. "I'll get Peter and May and take them to the compound. I think you should get in the car with me."

"No. I'll drive myself after you in a couple of hours," she'd said, the dryness of grief clinging to her voice. "The governor's meeting with me soon to discuss how to best lock down the city and prevent an infection."

Happy had thought they'd have at least a week or so. The infected Avengers were fast killers, but they were thousands of miles away and hunting their way through the country.

He'd thought they'd had so much longer.

"I don't know how we'll prevent anything without a cure or a forcefield," he'd said.

"Wakanda's providing aid all over the world. I'll hold a meeting with Queen Ramonda and the President this evening to discuss protecting vulnerable hotspots around the country. New York should be able to--"

The phone had crackled as it crashed, whatever Pepper was saying being completely lost to a thunderous boom of glass. His heart had begun racing before he even found the ability to speak.

And then the red. Lights and alarms flashing overhead in a terrifying headache that Happy remembered even now. The fear. The fatigue. The overwhelming wish that everything would just be okay.

But it wasn't. And it likely wouldn't be.

"Pepper?" he'd finally said. No response. "Pepper? C'mon--what happened? Friday, take me up to the penthouse. Now."

The AI obliged, the elevator stopping and shifting as it began to zoom back up.

When the doors had finally opened, Happy had wished he had just left. That he'd just gone for May and Peter hours ago. He knew it made him a coward. He knew it was a betrayal to Tony's trust. To Pepper's. But...

The smell had been strong immediately. Rotting and stomach-churning and burning the hairs of his nose. It was a smell he would come accustomed to in the coming weeks, but then it had been new and terrifying.

The sound had been low. A growl upon the still and charged air. A low hum that had taken him a moment to register past the smell.

And then he'd finally taken in the sight.

And it had been Tony.

But it hadn't been Tony either.

Tony had always had such a distinct posture that Happy could pick him out in the biggest of crowds. His skin was warm and his eyes a deep familiar brown. The suit had been an oxymoron for years. It had meant safety in a lot of ways. It had meant protection and the world and the knowledge that Tony would look out for them, and that he would avenge them if need be. But it had also meant that his friend was in danger. Every damn day. That he had left to go face danger, and that the danger had finally bested him.

Now the suit was the danger. Now it held a rotting corpse, with eyes white and red and veiny. With skin gray and blue and green and grafting off onto the expensive tile floor. Now the arc reactor shined on a collapsed body, twitching in tune with the ringing of the phone beside it.

Bulging eyes had turned to the opened elevator door. Pepper's red hair had begun to shift and turn until a matching pair was facing him.

Happy had pressed the close door button just as he had heard a shouted, "Oh, my God. Mr. Stark I saw you fly in through the window! What--"

The bounding figure of Peter Parker had leapt through the broken window, landing lightly on the shards of glass littered on the floor like sand. Fear had so tightly taken over the excitement held tightly in the kid's shoulders. The imposters had stared. Peter had taken a step back.

And then there'd been a fight.

That was where pieces of the day had gotten blurry. He remembered Peter yelling something at Happy, something about getting out of the building, but Happy didn't remember going down the elevator. He'd rushed out, knocking the couch into Pepper's way while Peter had grappled with Tony. In a flash of panic and skills that Happy hadn't known Peter had had, Tony and Pepper had been flung into the elevator. Peter had grabbed Happy. And they'd swung.

Of course, that elevator hadn't lasted for long. It was a pitiful prison for Tony. No, he'd escaped within minutes. Long enough for him and Peter to get away, but not long enough to warn the city. Not to save May.

Hope's voice snapped Happy back to the argument and out of his hellish memories.

"So Peter comes with us," she said, defeated. "But where are we even going? If he's coming, we're not leaving without a solid and airtight plan."

"There is no such thing," Okoye responded. "Not anymore. Not here."

"But--"

"She's right, Hope," Barnes said, his voice as steely and cold as usual. "The best we can do is not argue and keep moving. When we have T'challa, we'll call for backup and head to Wakanda."

"Sounds like the best plan we'll get," Happy said.

"Great. We'll leave in the morning," Sharon declared. There were nods all around, except for from Hope, who had turned from her arguing to fiddling with the high-tech gauntlet on her wrist, her brows furrowed. And, suddenly, Happy had a bad feeling.

"Or we'll leave right now," Hope said.

"What?" Kurt exclaimed. "Why would we--"

She raised her forearm, displaying the screen on her wrist. "Peter just left. And Karen just alerted me to breaches in the atmosphere."

Oh yeah. Super bad feeling.

"Of course it got worse. How could it not get worse?"

Peter was only halfway across the Brooklyn Bridge when he saw it. The second thing to interrupt the russet sky of the day. A spaceship. Great. Let's just spread the alien virus to the rest of the universe, yeah?

Crouching on top of a bridge spire, he stopped for only a moment to observe the circular ship taller than a skyscraper. It was definitely different than the Chitauri, so he guessed that didn't mean they were going to attack. Of course, it didn't mean that they were going to not attack either. Part of Peter hoped that maybe some friendly visitors had heard of their troubles and were descending with a cure. A more realistic, and more bone-crushingly tired part of him knew that that was most definitely not the case.

With a rallying breath, the teenager kept going.

"Okay. Just gotta make peace with the new aliens and hope backup arrives. Oh, Karen. Send an ask for backup to Hope please? I've got a feeling Mr. Stark is gonna be here."

"Done, Peter."

"Great. Thank youuu," he sung, dipping low and skimming the water for a few seconds before swinging back up and finally making it into Manhattan.

The spaceship was stirring up dust and its gusts of winds were whipping around trash (a months-old Starbucks cup ended up hitting him right in the face, so nature wasn't quite healing like they'd thought). But, most dangerously, it was attracting a crowd. Hordes of zombies lining the streets were snapped out of their trance and were beginning to amble towards the disturbance. Some faster than others, but as long as Peter was quick they wouldn't be the main disturbance of the afternoon.

Karen kept up a map of Mr. Stark's rapidly approaching location.

Peter arrived as the dust settled upon the street, revealing a strange mixture of figures, a low thunder of throaty growls, and the sound of at least one regular guy. The teenager recognized three of the figures, and had expected them too. Iron Man and the Wizards. If they ever lived through this, he needed to tell Mr. Stark they'd be a good band or something.

The other two infected figures were--you had to be kidding. The aliens were infected. Amazing. Thank you, Universe for being ever so helpful.

The man--not infected and hopefully human--let out a strangled exclamation of surprise as Mr. Stark raised his arm, once again on the attack. Peter pulled harder on his web, willing himself forward faster. He was so close and yet so far. Mr. Stark and the wizards were still approaching but he still wasn't even close enough to strike what was he going to do--

A flash of red. With a determined flourish, nothing but a floating piece of fabric declared itself in the street and dove. And then, quickly and efficiently, Mr. Stark was thrown. And now Peter was in range.

The young superhero landed just a little too harshly in front of the uninfected man, not even taking a moment to examine his face as he flicked out a hand at the nearest creature. The wizard's jaw was hanging loosely from his cheeks as he raised his hand, a dangerous path of orange following the trail of his fingers.

At the same moment Peter shot a web at his wrist the fabric wrapped around the zombie's head. Peter pulled and the cloth tugged. He stared at the thing, confused as to what it's plan was--could it have a plan? It was an inanimate object. A floating one, but still--before this time tugging with it. In a strong and swift motion, the wizard zombie was knocked into a car, making the vehicle dent in its doors and fall to the side.

"Nice!" Peter exclaimed as the fabric zipped off the guy's head before it was slammed into the car door, the thing was by his side in a flash, finally allowing him to see it was a cloak. "Woah. Wizard stuff is pretty cool."

"I'll tell you what's not cool," Peter turned towards the new voice, his jaw dropping as the man continued to speak, "sticking around here! C'mon, move it!!"

Bruce Banner--literally Bruce Banner oh, my God. Where had he been? Why was he here now? Wait, did he maybe have the cure? Was that where he'd been or something--grabbed his arm and began running. Confused and shocked as he was, Peter followed, allowing his legs to be pulled into motion.

A shock ran up his spine, but it wasn't fast or strong enough to completely warn Peter of the sparks that turned into a window twenty feet behind him before he could even blink.

Wizard whose face was still attached lunged. Bruce Banner jumped back with a fearful exclamation, backing the two into a nearby car. The zombie's teeth clicked and snarled, its rotten stench burning at his nose and making his eyes water. But the teeth never came, not close enough to bite. To infect.

"Don't eat me!" Dr. Banner yelled. And, surprisingly, it didn't.

It took Peter a moment to realize what was holding the incensed zombie back. Cloakie had grabbed onto its arms, tugging back harshly. The cloak tugged, the zombie chewed the air, the portal dimmed. And then the portal was gone, snuffed out as quickly as it came and leaving nothing but a lolling head on the ground beside Peter Parker and Bruce Banner.

Peter, so numb and so wired on adrenaline at the same time, had no reaction but a small flinch and a hitched breath. Dr. Banner fell, scrambling to get away from the head as he still backed himself into the car, strangled and horrified yells escaping his lips.

"Oh!! Ugh! Ah, ah, go away go away!!" the Avenger said, kicking the head away in his panic. Peter watched it go before turning back to the fight still continuing behind him.

Mr. Stark was blasting at Cloakie, who still held the zombie's headless body as it looped around in the air in a flurry of motion. Peter watched his mentor for a bit, debating on whether he needed to attack and trap him while the man was distracted, or grab Dr. Banner and run, when the decision was made for him.

"Agh!!--" he exclaimed as his legs were tugged and pulled into the air. A confused scream escaped past his lips at the lack of anything physical pulling him, but there was no time to ponder.

Instinctively, Peter stuck his hands to the pavement, grunting as his legs were still pulled straight up in the air. Now essentially in a magic headstand, the teenager could make out the approaching zombies. Mr. Stark, Goatee Wizard, Squidward, and Gray Hulk. Squidward seemed to be doing the magic in this scenario, its hand held out in a probably magic but threatening gesture.

"Hey! No, put me down! C'mon, I'm not good meat, guys. Really. You'd be better off finding some rats or--" There was a crack. Peter looked down at the pavement he was sticking to now crumbling around his hands. "That's not good."

And then Peter was fully in the air, the cement still attached to his stretched out hands and the zombies still approaching.

"Heyyy, guys," he said, trying hard not to look at Mr. Stark. "Y'know, I feel like you just had something to eat and I hate to spoil dinner so I'm just gonna--"

Buzzing filled the air, choking the rust sky in clouds of black. Peter closed his eyes even as the figures stopped only a foot from his face, unable to watch the spectacle and glad to fall to the ground. Wind gushed overhead, a hot air following the streaming wave of ants as they thundered forward.

Remembering that Mr. Stark was there, Peter forced his eyes open in time to see his mentor be completely surrounded and engulfed by a flurry of ants as thick as smoke. The husk of the hero growled and snarled, swinging and snapping at the pests now swarming around him.

The other three wasted away, their soft and rotting flesh eaten completely by Hope's army of thousands, but Mr. Stark still stood, dead yellow eyes staring straight into Peter's.

Mr. Stark didn't recognize Peter. Peter didn't recognize Mr. Stark.

Hope warped back to her normal size, mounting a defensive stance between him and Mr. Stark with her arm outstretched. Mr. Stark's repulsors whined and Hope's gauntlets charged. It took the teenager a split second to realize what she was about to do.

He made to his feet.

"NO!! HOPE DON'T--"

Mr. Stark's body careened. His head rolled, stopping just by Peter's foot.

He couldn't look away.

Mr. Stark had always been such an infinite figure in Peter's mind. Uncontrolled and ungoverned by terrors of death and incapable of causing grief. So the teenager hadn't let himself feel grief, because it was too unreal--too impossible--to feel grief for his mentor. To feel grief for the world, because the world couldn't end like this. He'd repeated that every day. Every morning. Every night. Every minute. Humanity couldn't end because of one decision. One mistake.

But Peter had made a mistake too. He had made the mistake of locking misery and his mourning away, of moving every thought towards something different. Something productive, something positive, something uplifting. He'd made it his role, and his role alone, to keep the group going, no matter how much denying he had to do to get there.

And that had been a mistake, because now there was nothing stopping two months of fear and regret and anguish as it piled and piled and piled. It flooded in like a torrent of mud, slimy and all consuming through his head and his stomach and even towards his limbs until everything was numb and he had only thought left.

Mr. Stark's gone. He's gone. He's gone.

An ant, as huge as he was, grabbed Mr. Stark's head and left.

Peter stared at the spot where it had been, unblinking, breath short, limbs taut. Hope kneeled beside him, her helmet retracting.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know you two were close."

He ignored her apology. "There could have been a cure. There could've--and now--"

"I'm sorry," Hope said again. "But you have to let go, Peter. We can't save everybody."

Peter didn't hear her. A new thought replaced the old one.

But why couldn't we save him?

Someone cleared their throat. Peter and Hope turned to stare as Dr. Banner stepped over a now rotten skeleton.

"Would anyone care to explain, please?"

Hope sighed. "Where to start."

2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

#whumptober2021 #peter parker #hope van dyne #happy hogan #fanfiction #irondad fanfiction

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wolfs-hunt1 · 4 years

Text

Wolf Kisses 3

Pairing: Stucky x Shapeshifter reader

Word count: 1897

Warnings: none on this chapter, sorry for any typo.

A/N: ok ... I think I already know where I want this fic to go. I have currently 3 more chapters planned, but since I got stuck writing this (it covers only half of what I had planed for this specific chapter) I might take longer with the others. I’m just publishing this one like this because I feel like I’ve been stuck long enough and I might need a new perspective. I hope you all like it!

Tag lis is OPEN

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Part 2

You were in the communal kitchen, having breakfast with Bucky and Steve when Tony walks in and stops when he looks at you. he whistles slowly and looks between the two men.

"You go Capsicle, finally getting on with the times I see." he winks at them and slaps Bucky on the shoulder when he passes him on the kitchen, going in for the coffee pot to make himself a cup. This makes Steve choke on his coffee and a scowl to appear on Bucky's face.

"What is that supposed to mean, tin man?" Bucky grumbles, turning on his seat to look at Tony. Tony merely looks at the three of you and makes an obscene sign with his fingers, making a collective groan to leave you all.

"First of, eww, we're still eating!" you say "And second of, I'm still recovering from an injured leg, I don't think those activities are advisable." you sass back, looking at Tony's shocked face when you tell him you're the injured wolf the two super soldiers brought home.

"What? But…"

"Wolf got your tongue?" you are now openly laughing at his reaction, with Steve and Bucky snickering beside you. "By the way, I have some really strong words for you if you think I'll let you do any testing in me without me bitting back." you are glaring at him by the end of your sentence, making sure he knows you don't want any probes anywhere near you whatsoever.

"Will a bite from you make me turn?"

"I'm not a werewolf, I'm a shapeshifter."

"Sure thing Lupin, whatever you say." he picks his cup and leaves the kitchen, trowing that comment over his shoulder.

Tony didn't talked more to you that morning. But in the afternoon you did got a manila folder under Steve's door with information about your species, that Tony had collected from one of Shield's servers, along with a written note that a room would be prepared for you that same afternoon so you wouldn't have to sleep on Steve's couch. Yeah… like you had been doing that anyway. But maybe a room would be nice. You would be able to give them their space and you could have yours.

You have dinner alone with them in their apartment that night, and after, you are shown to your new room. There were some clothes set out for you, that seamed about your size, so you wouldn't need to keep wearing Steve's and Bucky's oversized shirts, although to be honest, they were quite comfortable.

You take your precious time in the bath that day, making sure you are thoroughly clean and relaxed before sleeping on some clothes and flopping belly up on the bed, just staring at the ceiling. The soft shadows caused by the lights from the buildings outside made the room appear cold, dark, and empty. Made you feel alone. When did you stop feeling like you were alone in the first place? You had barely noticed it… but now that it was missing, you craved it once more.

You didn't want cold and dark and alone.

You wanted toasty warm, and cuddly. You wanted the comfort both men provided without really asking it of them. You wanted the security they gave and how they made you feel like you didn't have to be alone ever again.

You get up and walk to the door before stopping abruptly. No. You couldn't. You had intruded on their lives enough already. And now you had your own room, and not even one excuse to go and see them. You were alone once more and you had to live with it. So you crawled back to bed and pulled the comforter atop your head, hiding underneath them to keep warm.

Your night was restless, you got little sleep, and had sore muscles from the lack of rest. Your eyes were still a bit puffy from the time you burst out crying with no idea what you were even crying about. Overall, you looked like a freshly crawled out of a grave zombie. That was plainly clear when Tony and Sam spent the entirety of breakfast teasing you.

"So… where's Steve and Bucky?" you ask, not having seen them yet that morning.

"Last I saw them was when we went on our morning run." answered Sam, between bites of his toast.

"FRIDAY, were are Capsicle and Barnes?" Tony quips from his seat, eyes never leaving his tabled and occasionally sipping his coffee.

You looked at him weirdly until a disembodied voice ranged all around you. "Captain Rogers and Sargent Barnes are currently on the training floor."

"What was that?" you ask a bit startled with the voice that came from thing air.

"That was the AI that powers this building. You can ask her anything if you ever need help around here. She'll also let you know what floors you have access to and what floors are off-limits." that could come in handy.

"Cool… do I have access to the training floor?" Tony merely hummed, and so you went back to finish your breakfast. Sam comes with you to the training room when you both finish breakfast, him going to the locker room first to change to something lighter than the sweater he was wearing.

You go ahead and open the door, the sound of flesh hitting flesh and grunting could be heard right away, the overpowering smell of the leather of the machines hitting your nose with the slight tang of sweat. You can see both men in a sparing mat, trowing and dodging punches right and left, with barely time to take a breath.

You don't want to distract them, so you lean against the wall, just watching them. Roling muscles expanding and coiling with each new movement an entrancing sight. Sam shows up a few minutes later, wearing a black t-shirt with the Avengers logo on it… subtle. He walks up to you and smiles.

"Do you spar?"

"Oh… not really. I only fight when others get too close for comfort. And even then I have sharp teeth and claws to help me out. Like this, " you point with a hand at your body, "I'm basically useless." he chuckles at you and nods at one of the punching bags.

"Care to help?" you nod, following him and grabbing the bag so it wouldn't move too much whenever he punched it. You could feel the strength of his punches traveling through the bag, and you could also tell he was holding back, maybe so he wouldn't make you fall down. "So… wolf girl. What's it like to live as a wolf?"

"It's thrilling. The rush I get when turning, when running or hunting, it's amazing. The power flowing through my veins, making me faster and stronger, making me be able to see better in the dark, and to ear and smell more enhanced than when I'm human? It's addictive really." you can see the fascinating in his eyes with every word you say, his focus on punching the bag slipping away so he could better hear your story. " But all extremely draining, the more time I spend as a wolf the weeker I progressively became, and if I get injured, my body can't even turn back."

"So like, you can only be a certain amount of hours turned?" he asks, resuming his punchings when he notices he had fully stopped his training to look at you.

"No, with experience, and by pushing my limits I get to extend that time. The most I've staying turned was about three weeks, it was during a blizzard, and honestly, being human in that situation would have killed me." a loud bang reverberates in the room, making the both of you look over to the two super soldiers. Steve was pinned to the ground, whit Bucky's metal arm in his throat pushing him to stay down while he straddled the blond's hips, also pinning his legs so he couldn't move.

"Ready to give up, Stevie?" Bucky taunted, leaning furder down to whisper something on his ear, making him shift his head softly to look in yours and Sam's direction before looking back at Bucky.

"I can do this all day." Steve manages to topple Bucky over and get the upper hand, pinning him now to the floor mats. Gripping Buckys arms to the side of his head, sitting on his thighs.

"Get a room you two." Sam throws at them, making you laugh at the light blushes on their faces when Steve helps Bucky up.

"No need to get jealous birdbrain, we can share you between us." Bucky quips back, just to rile up Sam. Your friendly bickering is stoped when Natasha walks in, with a serious face.

"Fury is calling all of us for a meeting. Now." she leaves the training room without waiting for an answer.

"(Y/N), why don't you go up to your room and order something for lunch from FRIDAY, we'll probably take a long while at the meeting." Sam leads you to the door, while the three of them go to the locker room to change before the meeting.

--- --- --- --- ---

Being cooped up in this fancy room wasn't your idea of fun. In fact, you've been living so long on the wild that being in this place as long as you have is starting to make you climb the walls. Almost literally.

Maybe you should have taken Sam's offer to throw some punches and let out some pent up anxiety. Maybe a walk outside would help you calm your nerves. You walk to the elevator and after some awkwardly pacing around, you speak up.

"FRIDAY, can you take me to the ground floor please?" you can feel the moment the elevator starts to move, and a short few minutes later the doors open up to a massive lobby. "Thank you." you step out and walk along the vast space, boots making some squeaky noises every few steps. The doorman tipped his hat at you and opened the door, bidding you farewell.

The air outside was warm, but the cool wind that was blowing felt refreshing on your skin. You pick a direction and start walking, not caring much about where you're going. The streets were busy, but no one really paied any attention to you, making you blend in naturally with the city.

You are so distracted by your own thoughts that the next thing you know you are walking at a park, the lush green canopies of the trees making the air cooler and more refreshing. You walk to a bench and sit there, looking at the small playground infront of it, watching the children playing.

You longed to be able to run as a wolf once more, but it wouldn't be smart to do it here, the bystanders would only call for the authorities and you would be shot on sight. So running freely would have to wait. You wondered how the meeting was going, what they were talking about, and if it involved you. You where living there rent-free after all, and with a questionable background to warrant you lots of questions about it, none of the superheroes were doing.

Taking a deep breath once again you decide to return to the tower, you had been away for far too long without having told anyone.

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Part 4

Tags: @hidden-treasures21 @jelly-fishy-babie @thedarkplume @fallenoutofrose @animegirlgeeky @salveangeli @lokilokilokilokilokiloki @artemis629 @buckysknifecollection @glimmering-darling-dolly @ rebekahdawkins @amiets2 @tite-rose @ animegirlgeeky

#Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x bucky #stucky #stucky x reader #steve x bucky x reader #fluff #wolf #shapeshifter #My writing

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lunarrwolf · 3 years

Text

mini series coming soon!!

since you guys got me over 300 followers, i held up my end of my own deal and was finally able to think up the first of a 100% written series (social media included only when needed to build the story).

there will only be two for now but i want to get the sykkuno series a good ways in before bringing in new content like this! i’ve been a writer since middle school and have major writer’s block for a book i’m working on rn so i’m really excited about writing an actual story for lunarrwolf! these are the banners, very tiny synopses, and sneak peek excerpts for DAYWALKER!s and Siren Woods

s.h warning: siren woods will not be for the faint of heart as it will be put in the category of a psychological thriller. it will contain suspense, fear(s), anxiety and/or mentions of depression, isolation and swearing

d.w!s warning: this is an apocalyptic world w/o zombies. it will contain violence, anxiety, entrapment, fear(s) and swearing

disclaimer: i will do my absolutely best not to treat either of these as if they were actual novels. i plan on putting in comedic lines and scenes to lower any thriller/horror vibes from the stories, and not too go too far to avoid truly triggering myself or anyone else. warnings will only be issued in chapters that are going to actually include one or more of above the above. but if anyone who reads them in the future have issues do not feel like you need to keep reading.

DAYWALKER!s

a variety youtuber mini series

summary

ten creators find themselves amidst a city with an oddly familiar vibe, a weird yet intimidating apocalyptic appearance, and hundreds of strangers that feel the need to do nothing but fight their way through the city. even if that means to the death.

excerpt

“You’re all going to die, you know.. so you might as well give up now and let it take over.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You blinked at the growl woven in with your friend’s deep voice, knowing for sure that if you were in an animation a sweat drop would be making its way down the side of your head. He hated confrontation more than anyone here but when it came to his friends, and being trapped in a place like this? Who knew what damage he would do to keep them safe.

The man ahead of the group did nothing but stand there with a mocking grin on his face. It was unnerving, and dare say almost bloodthirsty. There was no amount of sanity or free will from where you all stood just a couple of yards away, and just that thought alone chilled you to the core.

“Corpse.. maybe you shouldn’t.” You stated, stepping closer to him to lower the risk of the strange man hearing the second part. “I don’t like the looks of that guy even from over here. We’ve already had to deal with a ton of crazy shit since finding each other. We can’t risk losing our only real muscle of the group.”

Ignoring the offended voices of Sean and Ludwig, the man with the torn mask looked at you only when you put a hand on his shoulder. It took sharing glances and seeing head shakes from most of the others to have him loosen the fist his hand was already in. Standing up straight, you watched as he rolled his shoulders, jaw still clenched from the tension. Rae was taking advantage of the off putting interaction and explored the small area, so capturing everyone’s attention when Corpse relaxed a bit wasn’t hard. “It’s gonna be a tight fit but I think we can make it work.”

“Whoa.”

“Where did you learn how to hotwire a car?” Ethan questioned, being the first to make his way toward the beaten vehicle.

“Video games?” The brunette answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She hit the side of the driver door twice, motioning to the group. “Now get your asses in here before that guy decides to pull a Resident Evil zombie sprint on us.”

“Yes ma’am.” Sykkuno saluted, earning chuckles that were a rare sight since ending up here. The two of you didn’t waste time in calling the front seats beside Rae and Ethan, forcing everyone else to get in the back of the truck and make it work. No one could complain, though, seeing the circumstances you were all in.

It took a few seconds of revving the seemingly old engine before the machine began making its way. You could actually hear the ones in the back shift around to get in more comfortable positions for however long a ride it would be. The girl behind the wheel didn’t pay any mind to the stranger that watched her drive you all away, but you did. And even when he continued to shrink in distance and eventually disappeared, you knew his words would stay with you.

“You’re wasting your time! No one gets out of Mirror City!!”

Siren Woods

a variety youtuber mini series

summary

seven internet personalities find themselves in the middle of an old town myth as they take a break from their careers and head up towards a rural mountain area. among every spooky or jumpy experience with a horror game here and there, never did any of them think they’d end up in this situation.

excerpt

The fire crackled with a sense of release, almost as if this large flame represented the time everyone needed away from their jobs. After how crazy the media has become the past few weeks, you and your friends agreed that a trip towards a much lesser known area would do you all well. It was a teenagers on summer break scene where everyone was gathered around a campfire in the backyard of a lake house, telling stories to either amuse or scare each other. Seán and Ethan were the first to do so, tag teaming in a very dramatic reenactment of the first time they met in person, which of course had to be followed by your own scene with Y/F/N.

Time flew by and before you knew it, the sun was completely set and the darkest shade of navy possible was barely lit with a crescent moon and a few stars. The only real source of light was the fire, illuminating the six faces in an orange glow. Any laughter died down minutes ago, leaving a silence that was comfortable for everyone. “You guys want to hear a funny story?”

Squinting at the man sitting in the log across from you, you leaned forward, hands folded in your lap. “Funny haha or funny we might want to kill you after we hear it?”

“Uh..” Corpse met your gaze immediately, his mask somehow looking more eerie with the natural lighting. “Funny kind of hoping you won’t kill me, if I’m being honest.” He confirmed, leaning forward himself to warm up his hands while the rest of you debated on whether to let him tell it.

After a few minutes, and three overtaking two, he was allowed to do so. It was an old myth of the town you all resided in for the week; a Slenderman type of entity of the forest that the locals from dozens of years before chose to call Siren Head. The name stuck once old photos were found and set up in the small museum in the Common. He stood at forty feet tall, with two megaphones for heads and tangled wires for a torso. He had the ability to perfectly mimic broadcasts, conversations, sirens and screams, and had been said to only emit white noise if ever asleep. Speed nearly matched that of a cheetah and his strength was unbelievably high due to his size. Every sighting of said species had only been released by victims, and it was an urban tale that stood alive to this very day.

Rae was on the grass now, legs crossed one over the other as she tried to look at everyone at once. “Why the hell did we all come to a place called Siren Woods, then?!”

“Well.. the town looked really nice online, and it’s living up to that. And I thought siren meant more mermaid than a freaky Creepypasta-type thing.” Sykkuno could do nothing but respond with nerves showing through his face and every subtle movement of his body as he explained why he ended up agreeing with the destination.

“Yeah, I did too.” Y/F/N piped in, shrugging her innocence as you all began telling your sides. “Who doesn’t think of a mermaid when you hear the word siren?! That’s basically what they are.”

“I, for one, think we should find another place to stay.” Ethan spoke up.

Seán gaped at his longest friend in the group, “You don’t actually believe in that.”

“I’m not taking any chances, dude. Those people believe in that thing enough to build a whole section of the museum for it.”

You watched your friends go back and forth, some freaked out by the story but not believing it was real while the rest wanted to find a new vacation spot. “What do you think, Y/N?”

You turned to Corpse, blinking as the simple question processed in your mind. “I’m with Ethan on this.. even if that thing isn’t an actual being the belief here is hardcore.” Three faces lit up in relief while the roommate, Irishman, and faceless internet persona felt differently. “Let me finish..” you sighed, “Let’s stay another night but keep an extra cautious eye on Spencer and Luna. Animals have a sort of sixth sense, so if anything weird happens they’ll warn us. Deal?”

Y/F/N shared a glance with you, letting out a sigh of her own. “Suddenly I’m feeling a lot better that we brought our dogs instead of getting sitters.” She bent down to pet the canines laying between the logs, hoping if they did bark it would just be from a resident knocking on the door.

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pickalilywrites · 3 years

Text

Third chapter is up ^^

------------------

How to Get a Job

EreJean. Zombie Detective AU.

12752 words.

Read on Ao3!

Waking up and finding out that he was a zombie is hands down the most surprising thing Eren has ever experienced after a good night’s sleep. (Although, according to Armin’s calculations, Eren was asleep for far longer than just one night. It was probably something closer to a year.) The second most surprising thing that has ever happened to Eren after waking up is cracking his eyes wide open after hearing a blood-curdling scream and, after flailing around in his (re: Jean’s) blankets and rolling off the couch and onto the floor with a loud thud, seeing Jean’s mother standing in the doorway looking as if she’s about to faint. Eren can only stare back at her, his jaw hanging slack until Jean’s bedroom door opens with a bang and the brunet stumbles out, eyes screwing shut at the sunlight flooding through the open door.

“What the fuck …?” Jean mumbles, clinging onto the door frame because he’s barely awake enough to keep himself upright. He rubs at his face and looks at the silhouette in his open door, eyes widening as he begins to wake up and recognize his mother. It’s like a slow-motion movie watching Jean’s face go from drowsy to confused to realization and, finally, horror as he slowly turns his head to where his mother is looking. His wide eyes rest on Eren, his mouth open as if he’s about to offer his mother an explanation he doesn’t have.

“Jean Kirstein!” cries Mrs. Kirstein, her voice shrill. Eren hadn’t heard her yell like that in a while. She typically used that voice whenever Jean was about to get an earful. It was a lot more common to hear her yell at Jean when he and Eren were younger and picking fights with each other, often requiring their mothers to come collect them in the office for disrupting the classroom. In later years, it was usually because Jean and Eren were getting up to some kind of trouble together, but Eren hasn’t heard her yell at Jean like that since at least high school.

It’s enough of a wake-up call for Eren to sit up and, after a quick hiss of “What the fuck are you still doing here?” from Jean, scramble towards the bathroom on all fours, keeping his head down as much as possible so that Mrs. Kirstein can’t see his face. After nearly slamming his head into the doorframe and successfully making it to the bathroom, Eren thinks he’s escaped without being recognized only to have his heart drop when he overhears Mrs. Kirstein ask, “Was that Eren Jaeger?” just as he shuts the bathroom door behind him. He really thought that they’d be able to keep his zombie secret safe for at least a few days, but they’ve barely made it 24 hours before someone else has stumbled onto their secret. They’re terrible at this.

Eren rests with his back against the bathroom door, sliding down onto the floor with a groan. He has a little hope that everything will turn out fine. After all, Mrs. Kirstein sounded like she was in shock as if she couldn’t believe that it could possibly be Eren Jaeger, one of her son’s childhood friend’s who had mysteriously disappeared for an entire year, sleeping on Jean’s couch. Jean could lie to his mom and tell her that she was mistaken. It couldn’t be Eren because nobody’s seen him since the night he disappeared on the mountain. He probably left for the city, went undercover, or fell off the face of the earth. That guy that she had just seen slink off to the bathroom was, despite having the same build and physical characteristics that Eren had, absolutely not Eren Jaeger and was just a random hookup from outside of town.

“That’s Eren Jaeger,” comes Jean's muffled answer from behind the door and Eren just groans even louder, not bothering to hide the fact that he’s disappointed with Jean’s answer. Stupid Jean and his stupid love for his mother that prevents him from lying to her even a little bit. Eren would text this to the group chat right now but he had forgotten Jean’s phone on the coffee table while he was scrambling to make his escape.

Eren doesn’t even have to crack open the bathroom door to know what’s going on. He can see it perfectly: Jean’s mother is standing by the door, her arms folded across her chest while her foot taps impatiently as she waits for Jean to explain further. Her mouth is set in that way it always is when she’s displeased with Jean and Jean is hanging his head, hands nervously held together behind his back.

“And tell me what Eren Jaeger, who Carla hasn’t seen in over a year, is doing in your apartment instead of telling his mother he’s come home?” Jean’s mother asks.

“He just … came back the other day. He was in really bad shape, Mom,” Jean says. He probably doesn’t realize the way he’s whining the way he does when he’s explaining things to his mother. It’s the same voice he used when he was trying to tell his mom why exactly he and Eren had been caught stealing snacks from the teacher’s lounge and selling them to their classmates. (“The snacks in the vending machines suck, Mom!”)

“Do you know how worried his mother is about him? She still cries about him every night,” Mrs. Kirstein snaps. She’s not even speaking to Eren, but her harsh tone still cuts against him and her words cause the zombie to wring his hands together, guilt beginning to bite away at his skin. “Have either of you even called his mother?”

“Well, no, not yet,” Jean mumbles. He’s probably scratching at the back of his neck, feet kicking at the carpet. “We’ll tell her soon. He just needs some … time.”

There’s an audible sigh from the other side of the door and even Eren winces. Mrs. Kirstein letting out a displeased sigh is never a good sign. Maybe he should go out there and help Jean. Eren stands up and is about to turn the handle of the bathroom door when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He’s all sickly pale skin, veins of blue and purple, and gross, watery eyes. He flinches involuntarily at his own reflection and sinks back onto the hard tile floor. No, it’d be better to just stay here. Going out there and giving Mrs. Kirstein a good look at him in this state would only make things worse.

“I know you’re trying to be a good friend, Jean, but keeping something like this from Carla … if I were in her shoes, I’d be completely heartbroken,” says Mrs. Kirstein. “Armin wouldn’t have done this. Annie wouldn’t have either, and neither would Reiner. Why would you lie for him like this?”

“Mom, I …” There’s silence on the other side and a feeling of dread begins to prickle across Eren’s skin. He knows Jean’s probably approaching his mom slowly, cautiously, and placing his hands on her shoulders. Jean’s looking into his mother’s eyes and opening his mouth to say something very, very stupid. Eren just knows. He can feel it in his bones. When you know someone as long as Eren has known Jean Kirstein, you just know these things.

“I’m in love with him.”

Eren sits up so suddenly that the back of his head smacks into the bathroom door with a large bang! Whimpering, he rubs at a spot on his head that’s currently throbbing. His hand doesn’t come away with any blood, but it still really fucking hurts.

“I just … seeing him at my apartment in the middle of the night in his state … It just made me want to protect him. He was really upset, Mom,” Jean continues, somehow able to go on without stumbling over his words. The more lies he spews out, the more Eren wants to bang his head against the wall. “I was just so focused on making sure he was okay, I wasn’t thinking of anything else.”

There’s another sigh from Mrs. Kistein, but it’s not disappointed, just tired.

“I promise that we’ll tell her soon, Mom, just … give us a little time,” says Jean.

Sitting in the bathroom, Eren sits with his head between his knees as he tries to remember how to breathe. This is terrible. There’s absolutely no way that Mrs. Kistein is going to believe anything Jean is saying because none of it makes any fucking sense. She’s going to throw open the bathroom door and drag Eren out by the hair to apologize to his mother for being such a bad son. Then she’s going to realize that something’s not quite right with him and see that Eren’s not just back, but he’s also a zombie and then he and Jean are going to get lectured for putting the entire town in such a dangerous situation by allowing a zombie to live here. (“I know he’s your friend, Jean, but this is incredibly dangerous and irresponsible!” Eren can imagine Mrs. Kirstein saying before she bludgeons her son’s childhood friend to death with a frying pan to get rid of the threat to humanity.) He’s not quite sure where this falls in the list of offenses that Jean and Eren have committed together throughout their youth, but he’s pretty sure it’s up there.

“... Alright,” Mrs. Kirstein says to Eren’s surprise. “But get it done as soon as possible, or else I’ll be the one telling Carla where her son is.”

Jean lets out a sigh of relief at the same time Eren does on the other side of the door. “Thanks, Mom,” Jean says. He’s probably hugging his mom right now, thanking her for being so understanding.

Eren doesn’t hear much more of the conversation; Mrs. Kirstein’s voice doesn’t pass through wood as easily when she’s not exasperatedly lecturing her son and Jean’s low tones are difficult to detect, especially when he’s speaking more calmly. When Mrs. Kirstein finally leaves (making sure to tell her son to eat all the food she’s made him and drop off the Tupperware when he’s done), Eren slowly inches out of the bathroom with a miserable expression on his face.

“I can’t believe you told your mom you were in love with me,” he sniffs.

“Oh, shut up,” Jean says with a roll of his eyes. He checks the contents of one of the Tupperware containers and nods appreciatively at the spätzle and rouladen sitting inside. “It’s better than telling her you’re a zombie, isn’t it?”

“Why couldn’t you have just told her that it wasn’t me?” Eren mumbles. He shuffles out of the bathroom, ruffling his messy bedhead with a frown. “You could have just said it was a random hookup.”

Jean shakes his head. “She knows you way too well. She even recognized you only after getting a glimpse. We’re lucky she didn’t get a good look at you though. I don’t know what I would have done if she realized you were a zombie,” Jean says as he starts putting the Tupperware in the fridge. One of the containers — the one that held the spätzle and rouladen — gets left behind, probably to serve as Jean’s breakfast. “Besides, I can’t lie to my mom. It’s just impossible.”

Now it’s Eren’s turn to roll his eyes. “You’re such a momma’s boy,” the zombie mutters under his breath as he shuffles over to Jean’s dining table and slumps into one of the chairs. “Why does your mom have a key to your apartment anyway?”

“‘Cause I’m a momma’s boy,” Jean answers shamelessly. Years ago when he and Eren were still in grade school, Jean had punched Eren in the face for calling Jean the very same thing. The two of them ended up in the nurse’s office, Jean with a bloody nose and Eren with a black eye. Jean has since accepted the title without any shame in the following years. “She comes by in the middle of the week and on the weekends to drop off food. It worries her a little less to know that I’m eating her food every week and not just sticking my hand in a cereal box every time I need a meal.”

“Hm,” Eren hums.

He watches Jean for a moment, observing how the thin cotton of his friend’s shirt clings to his broad shoulders and wondering how much muscle Jean’s packed on since Eren last saw him, and then rubs at his face, hard. It’s way too early to be having these thoughts about Jean in the morning. He’s still rubbing at his eyes when he hears a soft clink and opens his eyes to find a plate of pork belly sitting in front of him, the cut of meat shining with grease. Back in college, Eren tried to avoid fat and sugar as much as he could, but all he can think about now is sinking his teeth into that juicy pork belly and feel that thin film of grease coat his lips.

“Eat up,” Jean says, gesturing at the plate of meat in front of Eren. Eren’s about to do just that when Jean tuts and shoots a warning glare at Eren. “With your silverware.”

“Ah.” Eren’s hands, raised in midair, clench into fists before unclenching and wrapping around the cold, metal utensils Jean had provided. He wants to say something about how using a fork and knife really detracts from the experience of eating meat, but he’s sure that Jean would only scoff and bring up the deal they had made yesterday. Eren just eats the pork, the meat extra chewy from the excess fat but still rich in flavor. Jean doesn’t say anything when Eren involuntarily lets out an obscene moan, just rolls his eyes.

Jean settles across the table from Eren with a freshly microwaved container of egg noodles and sausage. If Eren were human, he might have asked for a bite. The sausages — succulent strips of bacon, sweet onions sliced up, and tangy pickles all wrapped up in thin slices of beef and covered in a savory gravy — were one of Eren’s favorite dishes from the Kirstein household, but now Eren wrinkles his nose at the scent of it. It seems so dull compared to a raw slice of meat. He doesn’t know how he was able to stomach it when he was a human.

“We should probably let Armin and the others know,” Jean says with a mouth full of sausage. “It’s a little disadvantageous now that everyone in town is going to know you’re back, but it’s kind of inevitable with everything that just happened.”

Eren frowns as he cuts another chunk of pork belly. “We should probably message the group chat.”

“Mm, you’re right,” Jean hums. He helps himself to another spoonful of his breakfast before getting up to collect his phone. He taps away absentmindedly, notifying the members of the group chat about how their plans have hit something of a speedbump. When it’s sent, he looks up at Eren and asks, “Hey, do you think you can get a job here now that people are going to find out that you’re back?”

Eren almost chokes on his food. “You never said anything about that when you told me I could live here!” he coughs, pounding on his chest to get the lump of meat in his throat unstuck. He gets it down after a few swallows, but it still feels like there’s a lump in his throat. Maybe it’s just the guilt of freeloading off his friend. “You really want me to get a job?”

Jean just shrugs. “It’s expensive buying so much meat all the time,” he replies, but he returns to his phone. He types something else on it before slipping his phone in his back pocket and returns to his seat at the dining table. “We can figure it out later.”

Eren grumbles and returns to his pork belly. It doesn’t taste as good as he thought it was earlier. It just tastes weird and rubbery like a leather shoe. He shovels the rest of it in his mouth impatiently. It’s bad enough that Eren has to deal with being a zombie, but now he has to think about finding a job on top of that. Sometimes Eren wishes he had just stayed dead.

-------------------

The two meet with the rest of the Zombie Investigation Squad in the basement of Hanji’s bookshop during their lunch breaks. Eren had spent most of the morning skimming through the rest of the books that Armin had assigned him yesterday, although he didn’t get much out of it. In between books and articles, he mentally drafted an apology for his mother when he eventually saw her. He’s not sure how much help it would be. Eren probably wouldn’t be able to get a word out before his mother collapsed on the floor and started sobbing about what a terrible son he was for disappearing for an entire year without any note.

With a sigh, Eren slaps his notes on the table. They’re written on stray paper torn out from one of Jean’s sketchbooks. His messy scrawl is barely legible and the notes are probably insubstantial, especially compared to the thick binders of notes Annie and Armin have typed up, but it’s a lot better than what Jean brought.

“You didn’t even bring any of the books that you thought were helpful?” Annie asks with a raised eyebrow, but she sounds far from surprised. Jean was just as bad as Eren at writing reports.

“I … forgot them at home?” Jean says unconvincingly.

“You didn’t even crack them open, did you?” Reiner snickers. The blond dodges a swipe from Jean, who scowls at him.

“It’s fine. I covered Jean and Eren’s reading just in case,” Armin says distractedly as both Jean and Eren make indignant noises. He nibbles on one of the chocolate croissants that Jean had picked up from the café, not noticing the little flakes that are falling on his lap. The councilman flips through one of his notebooks and stops on a page with a lot of different colored lines looping everywhere, connecting different cutouts of sighted zombies and missing persons over the past year. Judging from the dark circles under his eyes, Armin had stayed up the entire night making this. “It looks like none of the victims are connected but they’ve all shared physical characteristics listed on missing persons notices about tourists. Eren seems to be the only case of someone from town going missing and being turned into a zombie.”

“Lucky you, Eren,” says Reiner. “You’re the first person from our town to come back as a zombie!”

Eren only wrinkles his nose in response.

“I think we should stop looking at anything caused by disease,” Annie says and Armin nods in agreement. She plucks a donut from the bag in the center of the room and takes a generous bite, sugar coating her lips. Jean hadn’t said that the bag of donuts belonged to Annie, but he didn’t have to. The donuts always belonged to Annie and Annie only. “Disease seems a little too hard to control. Fungi and parasites seem a lot more likely. It’s stuff that someone can manage and use to reanimate people. I’m still having difficulty finding something that would cause zombification in a person though.”

Armin nods and jots something down in his notebook, taking notes as if this is a high school club and they have to submit meeting minutes at the end of the week. Eren’s still busy frowning at Armin when the councilman lifts his head up and asks the zombie, “Did you find anything interesting in your literature search?”

“Uh,” Eren says, mind drawing a blank. He tries to recall every smidge of information that he read earlier this morning on bokor and vodou traditions. There was an interesting story about a man that had claimed to be a zombie. Was his name Narcissus? It was an unusual name. Eren doesn’t remember if he bothered to write it down. “Um, I think there was this guy … mentioned something about being turned into a zombie? Something about being given a weird concoction. Narcissus or something, I think was his name.”

“Clairvius Narcisse,” Armin nods. Eren is surprised by his friend’s abundant knowledge on zombies until he remembers that Armin had read the same books he had last night, so he just feels kind of incompetent instead. Beside Eren, Armin clicks his pen and continues, “Yeah, I was looking into that. It might be that whoever turned you into a zombie is borrowing from the zombification rituals in Haitian vodou. I mean, they strangled you instead of using a concoction of drugs to kill you, but maybe they used a cocktail to bring you back to life?”

Eren wonders if Armin’s theory is any better than anything Annie had suggested. On one hand, it’s a lot more pleasant to think that his second life was because of an intricate mix of drugs instead of some kind of fungi or parasite fucking with his brain. On the other hand, the former would mean that some asshole is running around murdering people and intentionally bringing them back as zombies. At least Annie’s hypothesis brought forth the possibility that his zombification was an accident and that it was only a simple serial killer running around.

Reiner leans forward, blue eyes blinking curiously at Eren. “Right, your bruises. Can we get a look at them up close?” the schoolteacher asks, tugging at his own scarf. “It’d give us a better idea of the kind of hands we’re looking for.”

The zombie’s hands fly to his scarf, fingers hooked reluctantly around the soft wool. He was always shy about showing off his body ever since he became a zombie, but somehow letting his friends take a look at the bruises on his neck is even more embarrassing. “I’m not really sure how much it’ll help,” Eren mumbles, rubbing the scarf between his fingers. He looks up nervously at his friends who only watch him fidget in his seat. When Eren’s eyes land on Jean’s, the makeup artist gives Eren the subtlest nod of his head and the zombie feels himself relax just a little bit. Taking a deep breath, Eren pulls at the scarf and lets it slip off his neck and into his nap. He closes his eyes, not wanting to see the expression on their faces when their eyes settle on the purple markings decorating his neck.

“Whoa,” he hears Armin breathe as Reiner gives a low whistle.

“Eren cracks open an eye and sees his friends, all of them except Jean, staring at him like he’s a rare specimen at the zoo. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his hands twisting nervously at his scarf. “Are you guys done looking yet?”

Jean motions for Eren to put the scarf back on, which a thankful Eren does as quickly as possible. “The hands are a lot thicker than mine,” Jean says to the rest of the group. He holds out his hand, an artist’s hand, his fingers all nice and long and elegant.

“And whoever did it must have been strong,” Annie murmurs. She holds her hands out and wraps them around an imaginary throat. Her hands squeeze and Eren can’t help but feel shivers run down his spine. “I mean, they did knock Eren out beforehand, but depriving someone of oxygen long enough that they die takes a lot of hand strength.”

“Speaking from experience?” Reiner asks cheekily.

Annie flips him off without a glance.

The schoolteacher sits back in his seat and plays with the pen in front of him, rolling it back and forth on the wooden table. “So what are we going to do?” Reiner asks. “Just ask to hold everyone’s hand until we find someone with hands that are the same shape as the killer’s?”

“If only we could do that without arousing suspicion,” Armin sighs. He sits up, clearing his throat. “No, but we’re going to have to be very observant about people’s hands from now on. And their strength too, like Annie said, although that’s going to be harder to determine from a glance. Of course, it also helps that word is going to spread about Eren’s return.”

Eren’s about to apologize when he realizes what Armin’s said. “Wait, did you just say it was helpful that people are going to know I’m back?” he asks. Across the table, Jean is looking equally perplexed.

“Yeah. I mean, it would have been nice to keep it under wraps for a few more days so we could really plan this out, but if the murderer is around, they’ll definitely be more than surprised to see you,” Armin explains.

Annie is a little less optimistic. “Let’s just hope whoever killed you isn’t a good actor,” she says. Despite all the talk of zombies and murderers, Annie still manages to have the appetite for yet another powdered donut. Eren doesn’t know how she does it. His stomach is churning just thinking about a murderer running around such a friendly, quaint town like Shiganshina.

“We should have Eren close by at all times just in case the killer decides to strike again and get rid of the evidence,” Armin continues. He gestures at Eren, a.k.a. “the evidence.” Being referred to as such makes Eren feel a little weird, but the others don’t so much as bat an eye. “It’s a good thing Jean made it seem like he’s in love with Eren because then Eren doesn’t have to return home and live with his mom. That was really quick thinking, Jean. I don’t think I would have thought of that.” The others either moan or groan or giggle and Armin looks up, startled. Eyebrows furrowed, he asks, “What?”

“Can we not talk about that?” Jean mumbles as he rubs at his face, skin perfectly squishy and elastic at the same time. Eren really wants to pinch the man’s cheek, rip a piece right off, and pop it into his mouth like bubblegum. “It was … a moment of panic.”

“It makes sense though,” Reiner says. He pushes himself off the table so that he’s balancing haphazardly on the back legs of his chair. “The two of you are like … childhood assholes to lovers trope.” Reiner grins at them.

“Isn’t it ‘childhood friends’?” a confused Armin asks, and Annie only shrugs.

“This isn’t your stupid fanfiction, Reiner,” Jean snaps, and Reiner gives an offended squawk in reply. He runs a hand through his soft brown hair and sighs. “So now my mom knows I’m in love with Eren and I have to continue living with him so that we can keep his zombie secret from his mom?”

“Well, it’s that or his mom finds out about Eren’s secret when he eats her alive,” Armin replies. Beside him, Eren makes a horrified noise and Armin looks at the zombie apologetically, mouthing a very sincere “sorry.” He clears his throat and continues, “Besides, it’s not like you’re really dating. You just have to pretend until we have this all figured out.”

“... Right,” Jean says. He’s clearly unhappy about the situation and slides down in his seat, arms folded across his chest as he looks everywhere except at Eren, which Eren finds kind of offensive. Jean’s the one who made everything worse by making it seem like they were dating, so why is he acting as if Eren’s made a mess?

Eren opens his mouth. He’s not sure what he’s going to say, but he wants to pick a fight with Jean. Maybe he’ll point out how most of this is Jean’s fault, or at least everything that happened after Eren came back is mostly Jean’s fault. Maybe he’ll tell everyone about how Jean couldn’t tell one measly lie to his mother. Maybe he’ll just tell Jean his hair is stupid. He barely gets Jean’s name out of his mouth when Reiner speaks first.

“You know, if it makes you feel any better, I already told Bertholdt about Eren and his … condition.” Reiner is sitting properly in his chair now, hands folded in his lap. The schoolteacher is looking ironically like a student confessing to a minor crime, completely distraught and genuinely sorry. The others just look at him, expressions relatively unchanged.

“We know,” they chorus.

“Oh, thank god,” Reiner sighs, relaxing against his chair. He turns to Eren. “Sorry, Eren. I really wanted to keep your secret but Bertholdt -”

“- is the love of your life, we know,” Eren finishes for him with a sigh. He’s not even disappointed. It’s hard to be disappointed when you know something is inevitable. Bertholdt isn’t that talkative though, so he’s not that worried.

“Can we move onto actual problems? I don’t want to spend my entire lunch break listening to Reiner gush about how much he loves Bertholdt, ” Annie says. She ignores Reiner as he splutters indignantly, already listing reasons why she should be grateful to hear about how sweet and thoughtful and perfect Bertholdt is. Eren notices that the donut bag in front of Annie is now empty and she is now grumpily rubbing the powdered sugar off her fingers with a napkin.

“Okay, well, we should really focus on Eren’s reveal,” says Armin. He begins to scribble furiously in his notes, his handwriting neat even as his pen flies across the paper. “Eren, you should work on how you’re going to meet with your mother. I advise that you take Jean. It would make your relationship seem more genuine.” He ignores the flustered spluttering of the two idiots and continues to write. “Annie and Reiner and I will continue our literature search. I might take over vodou because it seems more pertinent to our particular case. And we should all take turns watching you.”

Here, the others begin to let their gazes stray. Annie, Reiner, and Jean's eyes are wandering around the room, their eyes intentionally avoiding Armin and Eren.

Eren sits up, miffed. “Why are all of you guys being weird?” he asks.

All three still refuse to look at him and Eren waves a gloved hand in front of Reiner’s face until the schoolteacher looks at him with a guilty look on his face. He starts to mumble a little bit, something about how it was unfair of Eren to single him out like this, before saying, “Well, it’s a little difficult for us to be watching you all of the time, you know? It’s unfair and inhumane of us to just lock you in Jean’s apartment for most of the day, but we kind of have full-time jobs. We don’t have the freedom to babysit you all day.”

“Babysit?” Eren parrots, completely offended. “What do you mean babysit?”

“You’re kind of a walking death trap,” Annie says, gesturing vaguely at Eren. This only makes Eren huff even more. “As Armin said, we all should take turns looking after you to make sure nothing happens but Reiner’s right. We don’t have the freedom to babysit you all day. Or at least most of us don’t.” Her eyes flicker towards Armin and soon everyone in the room is looking at the councilman.

“M-me?” Armin says, his pen falling out of his hand. He blinks, looking left and right. He’s completely bewildered. “You want me to look after Eren all the time?”

“Well, you’re in and out all of the time, and you could always make up something about going around town to help someone,” Jean points out. Reiner and Annie nod beside him. “The rest of us don’t have that kind of flexibility with our jobs.”

“B-but,” Armin falters. His arms flail at his sides hopelessly.

“You’re not scared of Eren are you?” Reiner asks. He ignores the frown deepening on Eren’s face and reaches out to touch Armin’s hand comfortingly. “Don’t be. Even if Eren did go on a hungry rampage and tried to eat you, you could probably take him down easily. My niece Gabi could shatter Eren’s kneecaps with a few good kicks.”

Reiner’s words are meant to be reassuring, but Eren only feels insulted. “Hey,” the zombie protests, but the teacher only waves him away.

“I mean, you guys are right, but I don’t like the idea of having to …” Armin gulps, not quite finishing his sentence. “I just hope worse doesn’t come to worst.”

Eren bites his lip, looking down at his hands. He’s thankful they’re gloved because he doesn’t think he can bear looking at the blue and purple veins that run underneath his thin, papery skin, serving as a reminder of the monster he had become against his will. “Sorry,” he mumbles, but his apology isn’t loud enough to be heard even in the quiet of the room.

There’s a loud screech as Annie’s chair drags against the wooden floor. Annie’s balling up the empty paper bag, collecting her things. “Well, since we’re done here, I’m going to look for more resources before I go back up. Hanji might come down here if they think I’m trying to avoid talking to customers again.” Annie brushes some crumbs off the table. “You guys are welcome to stay, but I think Reiner’s next kindergarten class starts soon.”

Reiner glances at his watch. “Ah, shit, you’re right,” he frowns.

“Wait, we’re not going to talk anymore?” Eren asks as both Reiner and Jean begin to shrug on their coats. Annie is already walking away from the table, tossing her paper bag into the recycling bin near the foot of the stairs.

“Why would we need to talk more? We’re out of donuts,” Annie says. She pauses for a moment, thinking, and then adds, “And things to talk about.”

“We’ll be fine,” Jean says. He pats Eren on the shoulder. “Just focus on what you’re going to say to your mom.” To Armin, he asks, “You’re fine with babysitting the zombie?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Armin sighs. He gives an offended Eren a weary smile. “Anything else you have concerns about, Eren?”

Around them, the rest begin to move on. Annie is already behind another shelf, flipping through more books and scanning their contents like the world’s fastest speedreader. Jean and Reiner are heading up the stairs together, Reiner talking Jean’s ear off about something cute Bertholdt did last night. Only Eren and Armin remain seated at the table, the latter collecting his notes and tucking them neatly away in his bottomless messenger bag.

Eren tugs at his earlobe awkwardly. “Well,” he says reluctantly, not sure how to ask his question. “I was wondering if you knew how I could get a job.”

“Oh.” Armin stops what he’s doing and looks up at Eren, his mouth in a perfect “O.” It’s clear that he hadn’t expected this question and, despite being one of the most prepared people Eren has ever met, has absolutely no idea how to approach this problem. Still, he squares his jaw and smiles. “I’ll see what I can do.”

-------------------

If Eren had thought finding a job as a human was difficult, then finding a job as a zombie is practically impossible. He had run through his options with Armin and there weren’t a lot of them after they filtered out jobs that required him to be around people for long periods of time. Although Eren was discouraged, Armin assured him that they’d find something for him eventually. Besides, they didn’t have the proper identification materials that Eren would need when he finally did manage to get a job.

“I’ll think of something,” Armin says, putting a comforting hand on Eren’s shoulder. “It’s only a matter of time. Meanwhile, you should consider the newspaper delivery job I talked about. I heard Colt was thinking of dropping it after getting his barista job.”

Eren wrinkles his nose. “You seriously want me to consider a job Colt could do? I’d rather just let another high schooler do it. I have a degree, Armin! I shouldn’t be delivering papers!”

Armin pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Eren, you died. You shouldn’t be walking around at all, much less finding a job to pay your rent with Jean,” Armin points out. He shakes his head. “I mean, I’ll still look into it, but it’s hard to find remote work here or any other kind of job that allows you to work outside of an office.”

Eren knows Armin’s right, but that doesn’t prevent him from feeling disappointed. He rubs the back of his head and sighs. “Thanks for everything so far. I know you don’t like missing work,” Eren says. He puts on a smile and asks, “You should probably get back to town hall. I don’t want your work to pile up because of me. I’m already causing you enough trouble as it is.”

“It’s fine, you’re no bother,” Armin insists. He pauses for a moment, studying Eren. “Are you going to be alright walking home by yourself? You won’t …?” He looks worried, not finishing his sentence but Eren already knows what Armin’s asking.

Eren shakes his head. “No, I’ll be … fine. Being with you guys helps with the cravings, I think, at least a little bit. And I’m pretty sure if I do end up attacking anyone, they can fight me off pretty easily,” Eren says. He doesn’t like the idea of being killed, but he’d rather die than eat someone. “Reiner was telling me earlier that Gabi could probably squash my head in with her plastic fire truck if she wanted to.” He believes Reiner, too. Gabi might only be five, but she was the most ruthless five-year-old that Eren has ever met.

Armin chuckles. “Alright then,” he says, giving Eren another pat on the back. “Let me know if you need anything. You still have Jean’s phone?”

Eren nods. Jean had given it to him, saying that it would be more useful for the zombie to have it in case he needed to contact any of the others. Eren was only borrowing it temporarily until Jean could purchase another one for the zombie to use exclusively.

“Great,” Armin smiles. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.” The councilman gives Eren an awkward wave before departing, heading in the direction of town hall. Eren watches his best friend until Armin disappears around a corner and he can see him no longer.

Closing his eyes, Eren breathes deeply in through his nose and lets out his warm breath in a cloud of smoke. He’s not looking forward to the rest of the day. He has the readings and notes from Armin to go through, but he knows he’s just going to let them sit in his backpack until 2 AM before he actually looks at them. Eren pulls his scarf over his mouth and shuffles down the street, walking as slowly as possible back to Jean’s apartment.

The zombie keeps his head down and his back hunched, trying his best to walk in a manner that others won’t recognize. If Jean’s mom can figure out who he is just from looking at him from behind, others certainly can as well. Eren’s not sure if he can manage lying about his real identity to so many people at one time.

Still, he can’t help his wandering eyes as he looks up and down the unchanged streets. Every shop is just as it was a year ago, the same people coming in and going about their usual business while Eren walked by without them noticing. Every once and a while he would see an unfamiliar face, but that was normal too. Tourists always came and went. Really, it’s like nothing at all had changed since Eren had left except for the fact that he was a zombie and could no longer interact freely with everyone.

He sighs again and continues on his path, making himself as small as possible so that he doesn’t bump into any pedestrians. Every now and again a passerby will try and peer up at his face as he walks past, but Eren keeps everything but his eyes visible so as to not be recognized, and the curious pedestrian will always shrug and go about their way.

Eren nearly passes by the news station, but he stops himself and turns to look at the building. It was the only news station in town because, well, not much happened in this small town and zombies were old news that they hardly needed to talk about. Back when Eren had first returned from the city, his mother had tried to talk him into looking for a job at the news station. After all, he had a degree in journalism (a useless degree that he oftentimes regretted obtaining after he failed to find a job in the city), so it only made sense. His pride wouldn’t let him consider it, however, because small-town news wasn’t the type of news that Eren wanted to write about. He wanted to write about corporate corruption in the big city, political scandals, and law enforcement taking brides, not about how a kid from the local high schooler had won the district spelling bee and would be traveling to the next town over to compete with their peers who had done the same. However, after everything that has happened to him recently, Eren thinks he wouldn’t mind writing a line or two about a kid who successfully spelled “vivisepulture.”

Eren’s too busy staring at the news building to notice that a woman had walked out and was looking curiously at him.

“Excuse me,” she says, startling him from his thoughts. When he turns to look at her, he realizes that he’s never seen her before. He’d be tempted to say that it’s because she’s a tourist, but the badge hanging around her neck clearly states her name as “Mikasa Ackerman,” a field journalist for the paper.

“Ah, um, hello,” Eren says, making his voice lower than its typical timbre. He feels ridiculous right after because he’s never met this woman before so there’s no way that she’d be able to recognize his voice. That and the fact that his disguised voice sounds like he’s trying to do a poor imitation of Christian Bale’s Batman. Embarrassed, Eren clears his throat and tries again. “Hello.”

The woman looks at him, narrowing her gray eyes as she does so. It’s as if she’s trying to recall where she had seen Eren before even though Eren’s certain he’s never met this woman before in his life. He would have remembered a face like hers: heart-shaped with stormy gray eyes and full pink lips. She wears a knitted cap, but locks of her thick, dark hair peek out from it, black like ink. She looks about his age, so she must have moved her during the year Eren had gone missing. Even if he didn’t hang out with everyone in his age group, he at least knew everyone and Eren definitely would have remembered a face like hers.

The woman realizes she’s been staring and backs away, expression apologetic. “Sorry about that. I just thought you seemed a little familiar,” she says with a smile. The woman holds out a gloved hand for Eren to shake. “I’m Mikasa Ackerman.”

“I’m Er-” Eren stops himself from revealing his full name. Mikasa gives him a funny look and Eren fakes a coughing fit to distract her, pounding at his chest to make it look more authentic. After what he feels is an appropriate amount of time, Eren straightens his back and tries again. “I’m, ah, Er…”

The reporter raises an eyebrow. “Er?” she repeats and then points vaguely at the sky, waving her finger in a circle. “Like … air?”

“Um, yes,” Eren says. God, he’s so bad at lying. He wonders if he was always bad at lying or if it’s just harder to lie when you’re hiding the fact that you’re a zombie. It might also be karma for judging Jean for being such a bad liar to Mrs. Kirstein earlier this morning. He’ll have to apologize to Jean later. Without thinking, Eren explains. “It’s short for Ariel. But people just call me ‘Ar.’ My, um, parents were huge fans of The Little Mermaid.”

Eren immediately wants to smack himself in the face for saying something so stupidly unbelievable, but he resists if only because doing so will make it blatantly obvious that he’s lying out of his ass.

“Oh,” says Mikasa, looking more confused than ever. “That’s … unusual. But it’s a pretty name.” When it’s clear that Eren isn’t going to shake her hand, she lets it fall to her side and Eren notices the weapon hanging from her waist and is taken aback.

“Is that … a sword?” Eren asks, pointing at the thing dangling at the woman’s hip.

“Hm? Ah,” Mikasa says as she looks down. With a smile, she pats the weapon around her hip as if it holds fond memories for her. Eren hopes that the fond memories don’t include beheading zombies. “It’s a katana passed down from my mother. I grew up in the city, so I didn’t think I’d be needing this. I ended up moving here anyway and my parents gave me this to protect myself because of the whole zombie problem.”

Eren’s eyes are fixed on the thin blade, noticing that it’s different in shape than a traditional sword. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anyone bring a sword, katana or not, to protect themselves. “It’s pretty … unconventional compared to other weapons,” Eren says.

The reporter shrugs. “Yeah. My family’s been in the business of killing monsters for quite some time though and they insist that weapons like these are far better than more traditional ones,” Mikasa says with a little laugh. She pats the hilt of her katana, smiling. “It’s kind of a bitch to clean after I use it, but it’s pretty effective since my cousin reminds me to sharpen it after each use.”

“O-oh. So you sharpen it every night,” Eren laughs nervously. He rubs at his neck, imagining the blade slicing him cleanly like a hot knife through butter. He gulps.

“It doesn’t take that long,” says Mikasa with a shrug, not at all noticing the zombie’s nervousness. She looks back up at him and clasps her hands together as if she just remembered something. “Oh, but I was going to ask if you needed something. You looked like you were about to go in.” Mikasa gestures towards the building.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Eren says, shaking his head furiously. He needs to find a way to escape the scary sword lady as quickly as possible. He bows his head gratefully, wondering if he should just before deciding it’s a terrible idea. She might chase after him. If she can slice zombies in half, she can definitely catch up to a runaway zombie. “I just … was looking for a job, but you guys probably aren’t hiring anyone anyway so I should probably be on my way -!” He tries to turn to leave but he doesn’t manage to take a step before Mikasa grabs him by the arm and yanks him back so forcefully that he almost falls on his ass.

“Did you say you were looking for a job?” Mikasa asks, whirling Eren around so that he faces her. She’s grinning from ear to ear excitedly and Eren’s so surprised that he just nods without thinking. “Oh, that’s so great. I’ve been looking for a partner for ages, but nobody ever wants to work with me.”

“Er, what’s your work?” Eren asks, wishing that Mikasa wouldn’t grip him so tightly. He can feel the way her fingers press against his arms even with the thick layers of clothing he wears.

“I work in the field, usually out in the mountains,” she tells him and Eren’s ears perk at the words “mountains.” If most of her work is in the mountains, that means she doesn’t typically see people outside of the occasional hiker. That’s something Eren might be able to work with even if it does mean he’ll be working with a katana-swinging news reporter who could probably kill him in the blink of an eye.

“Okay,” Eren says slowly. He pries Mikasa’s hands away from his arm. “I’m intrigued. Tell me more.”

“Alright, well,” Mikasa says, brushing a lock of jet black hair behind her ear. “It’s mainly, well, my seniors would call it ‘useless,’ but I think exploring the mountains is promising. I don’t know how much you know about the town so far, but it’s pretty well-known for its zombies. Other places, big cities and the like, don’t have nearly as many zombie appearances, but for some reason this small town does and I want to find out why. The people of this town want to leave it be, but I think it might be a big story if we can find a source.”

For some reason, Mikasa’s words are sounding awfully familiar.

“Unfortunately, it’s difficult for me to do the work alone,” Mikasa continues. “I’ve only been here a year and it’s dangerous to go into the mountains if you’re not familiar with them, especially at night. I’ve only been able to do work during the day, but I’ve been wanting to explore the mountains at night in case I’ve missed anything. With two people, it might be a lot safer …” Mikasa doesn’t finish speaking before Eren interrupts.

“I can help!” he blurts.

Mikasa blinks in surprise. “You can?”

“Yeah!” Eren says before he realizes that Mikasa believes he’s just recently moved here. He should probably backtrack and just offer to make her a map or something, but helping her might also mean getting more information about his current state. After all, Mikasa is looking into the same things as Eren and his friends. He should probably consult Armin or Jean about this, but he thinks they would agree that this is a golden opportunity. A job and the chance to further their research. “I … went hiking up and down this hill when I was just a tourist. I ended up liking this place so much that I moved here. I know these mountains like the back of my hand.” The fact that the last bit isn’t a lie helps ease Eren’s conscience.

“Oh, wow, that works out so well,” Mikasa says, eyebrows raised. Mumbling something that Eren can’t quite hear, the reporter fumbles for her purse and peruses through it. She finally manages to find her wallet, pulling it out and flipping it open so that she can pluck out a business card which she hands to Eren. “I’ll have to talk to my boss first, but I’m sure I can work something out. Call me on the number on that card and I’ll let you know the details when I have them.”

“Oh, that sounds … great,” Eren says. He was surprised by the katana, but he finds the business card even more surprising than the outdated weapon. Nobody in town ever carried around a business card because everyone knew each other. Mikasa must be on top of her shit, Eren thinks. He pockets her card in his back pocket and smiles at her, but his mouth remains mostly hidden behind his scarf so he’s not sure she even notices. “I’ll call you when I get home. This has been a pretty … productive conversation. It was nice meeting you, Mikasa.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I ran into you, Ar,” Mikasa says, and it takes Eren a minute to realize that she’s referring to him by the stupid disguise name he came up with. The reporter looks as if she’s about to bid him goodbye but she hesitates, narrowing her eyes at him like she did when she had first bumped into him. Tilting her head, she asks, “Are you sure we’ve never met before? Something about your face looks familiar. I swear I’ve seen you before. It’s something about this …” She gestures around her eyes.

Eren knows for certain that he’s never met Mikasa before today, but he’s still nervous about all her questions. He bites his lip and reminds himself that it’s impossible for Mikasa to have known him and tries to convince himself that he’s just being paranoid. “Yeah, I’m sure. I haven’t really talked to a lot of people here because I’ve just moved and spent most of my time unpacking. Today’s the first actual day I’ve walked around town.”

“Hm,” Mikasa says. She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she nods, seemingly accepting Eren’s explanation for now. With a shrug, she says, “Maybe you just have one of those faces.”

“Yeah, haha, I’ve been told that,” Eren says, going on laughing for an unusual amount of time. God, he wishes Jean were here so the makeup artist could slap the shit out of him for being such an obvious liar.

“Right, I should be on my way then,” Mikasa says. She doesn’t try to shake his hand anymore, which Eren’s grateful for, and instead gives a polite bow of her head. “Remember to call me. I’ll see you around, Ar.”

“See you,” Eren says, watching Mikasa walk off. As soon as she’s gone, he pulls out the business card, pinching the thick cardstock between his fingers. The card has a shiny red border around it and Mikasa’s name is written in the center in an elegant cursive. Underneath in smaller letters is her occupation followed by her contact information. It’s incredibly professional and far fancier than anything a field reporter from a small town would need. Still, Eren is impressed.

The zombie’s thumb runs over the letters of the reporter’s name, feeling each bump and groove of the letters underneath the pad of his thumb. He smiles to himself as he looks down at the card, feeling a little giddy. He can’t even imagine the look on Jean’s face when he tells the makeup artist about his great news.

-------------------

“That’s terrible news,” Jean says and has been saying for the past hour since Eren had told him about his meeting with Mikasa. It’s the exact opposite reaction that he had been expecting from Jean.

“I know, you’ve said that at least a million times since we’ve left the house, but you won’t explain why!” Eren huffs as he stomps behind Jean, sulking. In his fist is Mikasa’s business card, all crumpled up and bent after Jean had told him to forget about it. The zombie had thrown it in the trash in frustration the first time Jean had said it was a dumb idea to take the field reporting job, but Eren had dug it out of the wastebin and smoothed out the wrinkles after thinking about it for a bit. “I thought you would be happy for me. Armin and I talked it out and a job out in the open away from people would be perfect for .. for someone like me. I’d even be able to write!”

Jean runs his hand through his hair, tugging at the ends the way he usually does when he’s tired of arguing. “That’s not … the job isn’t the problem,” Jean says with a shake of his head. He looks so miserable that Eren almost feels bad for not letting up about the job at the news station.

“What is it then?”

The makeup artist hesitates as he decides whether or not he wants to give an answer. He sucks on his bottom lip for a moment, looking at Eren who hasn’t stopped glaring at him since they left the house. With a sigh, he finally replies, “It’s Mikasa.”

“Mikasa?” Eren wrinkles his nose. Mikasa’s only been in town for a year. Eren doesn’t know her that well, but she was pleasant enough this afternoon. It’s hard to imagine what the reporter could have done to make Jean feel so strongly against Eren working with her, especially since Jean isn’t the type to hold a grudge against people. “If it’s about me possibly putting her in danger -”

Jean shakes his head again. “I’m not worried about that. She’s the type that can fend for herself,” Jean says. He still doesn’t offer an explanation as to why Eren shouldn’t work with Mikasa though so the zombie tries again.

“Are you scared that I might let the truth about my ‘condition’ slip while I’m with her?” Eren asks.

Once more Jean shakes his head. “That’s not it either.” Jean sighs and runs his hand through his hair. His hair is beginning to look messier and messier the longer this conversation lasts. Eren would laugh at how funny it is to see a makeup artist with such tangled hair, but the current conversation is too frustrating for Eren to have any sense of humor.

“You can’t just not give me a reason,” Eren grumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets and kicking at a pebble.

“I just don’t think you two would work well together, alright?” Jean snaps. Jean and Eren are always bickering, although it’s usually Eren that loses his temper first. What is it about Mikasa that’s making Jean so adamant that Eren not take this job?

The zombie looks curiously at his friend. “Did you and Mikasa … date by any chance?”

Jean’s head whips around to look at Eren so quickly that the zombie is surprised the man’s neck hadn’t snapped. “What? No!” Jean splutters, answering far too quickly for Eren to be convinced he’s telling the truth.

“Hm. You don’t sound very convincing. Maybe I should ask, Armin?” Eren raises his eyebrows and starts to reach for his pocket to pull out his phone, but Jean suddenly grabs for his wrist, stopping him. The zombie looks up in alarm.

“Don’t … please don’t do that,” Jean says, practically pleading. Normally Eren would just ignore him, call up Armin anyway and ask him why Jean’s acting so funny about a girl, but Jean looks sincerely distressed and Eren doesn’t want to aggravate him any further.

“... Fine,” Eren agrees and his hand falls to his side as Jean finally loosens his grip. The zombie puts his hand back in his pocket and looks up at the darkening sky, walking in silence beside Jean for a short while. “Do you want to talk about what we’re going to say to my mom then?”

After Mrs. Kirstein had given the boys an ultimatum to inform Eren’s mother about her son’s return this morning, Jean and Eren had decided that it would be best to get it over with as soon as possible. Eren suggested that they bring Armin. After all, his brain is better than both Jean and Eren’s combined, but Jean only shook his head.

“How often do you bring your best friend to explain why you’re dating your partner?” Jean asks, which is a very good point.

“I mean, never, but it was just a suggestion because, really, do either of us know what we’re doing?” Eren says. All his life he’s been bumbling around trying his best without any real clue about where he was going, but it’s only now that he feels like he has absolutely no idea. Armin probably doesn’t have this problem because he’s overly prepared for everything. Armin probably has a spreadsheet that tells him what to do in the case Eren becomes a zombie and his friend has to pretend to date him so that he can live at his house to avoid eating his mom when she’s asleep. Unfortunately, Eren could never be bothered with learning even the basics of Microsoft Excel so he can’t even hope to construct such a thing.

“We just tell her that you’re back, that we’re dating, and that you’ll be living with me but that you’ll come visit every once in a while.” Jean pauses for a moment to think about anything he’s forgotten. “Oh, and you should profusely apologize for worrying her to death.”

Eren scowls. It can’t be nearly that simple. “You make it sound easy,” he mumbles. “I don’t even know how you got your mom to buy it.”

“Why wouldn’t my mom buy it?”

The zombie wrinkles his nose as if it’s obvious. “I mean, it’s weird. You and I are like … well.” He doesn’t have words to describe what they are. It’s hard to explain their current state: a zombie and his talented makeup artist friend who has sworn to help him in honor of their 10+ year friendship. But even if Eren were a normal person, it’d still be weird. “It’s just weird.”

Jean raises his eyebrow as if he doesn’t quite understand what Eren is trying to say.

Eren sighs, tugging at the fold of his beanie. “We’re … friends.”

Jean puffs out his cheeks, cute and round and delectable like two ripe peaches. Thankfully, he breathes out and his cheeks are back to normal before Eren can think about leaning over and tearing his teeth into Jean’s face.

“Reiner and Bertholdt were friends before, too,” Jean points out. “It wasn’t weird for them.”

“Yeah, but that’s Reiner and Bertholdt. We’re nothing like them,” Eren says dismissively. Nobody was like them. It’s like the two were destined for each other, the way they circled one another before they had officially become an item. “Look, we could hardly stand to be in a room alone with each other without wanting to throw the other person out the window. How is anyone, let alone my mom, going to believe we want to be together in any capacity? It would be hard to convince my mom that I’d even want to room with you, and she knows better than anyone that I’d never want to date you.”

Jean’s face twitches like he’s mildly annoyed. “You’re so …” His voice trails off and he never says exactly what Eren is, only sighs and opens the gate to Eren’s house.

It looks the same as it always did: worn-down fence around a well-trimmed lawn, a two-story house with the white paint chipping off the sides, and the kitchen light on. Eren’s sure he’d be able to see his mother’s silhouette if he peered in, but the thought of seeing her makes his palms sweat and his throat dry so he keeps his eyes on the pavement, letting Jean lead the way to the front door.

Jean rings the doorbell and the familiar chime rings.

Out of the corner of his eye, Eren can see his mother’s familiar shadow stop and lean out the window. He knows his mother will see him soon, but Eren still ducks his head instinctively, hiding behind Jean’s broad back.

The door opens and Eren’s mother steps out. A part of Eren wants to peek over Jean’s shoulder just to see how his mother is. Has her hair streaked with more gray since he saw her last? Does she have another wrinkle or two in the year that he’s been gone? Will he be able to see how much his disappearance has taken a toll on her just from a glance?

“Hi, Mrs. Jaeger,” Jean says with an awkward wave.

“Jean,” says Eren’s mom. Her voice sounds a little wearier than Eren remembers it. “What are you doing here so late in the evening?”

“Er,” Jean says. He shuffles awkwardly on his feet before finally stepping aside and revealing who was hiding behind him.

Eren doesn’t look up right away. He stares at his mother’s feet first and sees how they’re clad in worn-out slippers that he had gotten for her years ago, the color faded and the light pink color faded to white. Slowly, he looks up and sees his mother in the same familiar clothes she always wore at home, a plain gray shirt and cream-colored pants with a thin robe thrown over her ensemble. She doesn’t look too different — her hair is a little bit grayer, the bags under her eyes a bit more prominent, and there’s a new wrinkle at the corner of her eyes — but Eren doesn’t remember if she was always this small.

Eren’s mother doesn’t seem to recognize him right away. The layers of clothing and the bucket hat that hangs over his eyes. He folds the brim of his hat up so that his mother can see his eyes and he sees a spark of recognition that quickly turns to surprise. Her eyes begin to well with tears and he gives her a sheepish smile. He’s about to hold his arms out to her and tell her that he’s sorry for disappearing without a word. He expects his mom to envelope him in her arms, perhaps cry about how much he worried her after being gone for so long. Instead, he gets whacked in the face with one of his mother’s slippers.

“Mom!” Eren yelps. He tries to hide behind Jean, but she begins to chase him, waving her other slipper threateningly in her other hand. The two run around Jean who’s awkwardly stuck in the middle. Eren manages to use Jean as a shield and splutters from behind Jean’s shoulder, “Mom, what the fuck?”

“Don’t you curse at me, Eren Jaeger,” his mother hisses. She tries to get a few hits in but ends up accidentally whacking Jean’s head instead. “Anyway, I should be asking you that question! Where the fuck have you been this whole year?”

Eren grimaces. It’s never a good sign when his mom starts cursing. He can’t say that this will end well. Either his mother will lock him in his room for the rest of his life so that he can never disappear again or she’ll kick him out of the house and officially disown him like she’s been threatening to for the past twenty-plus years of his life.

“Mom, stop, you’re gonna kill him,” Eren whines when his mother lands a particularly hard whack of her slipper on Jean’s head.

“Stop, stop!” Jean shouts, holding Eren’s mother back by the shoulders. His arms are long enough to prevent her from hitting him over the head again. He glares at Eren over his shoulder as if this is all Eren’s fault, which isn’t fair. It’s not as if Eren wanted to disappear for a year and come back as a zombie. Jean’s still struggling to keep Eren’s mother back. “How about we just … go inside and talk? We probably all have a lot to talk about.”

Jean leads a very angry Mrs. Jaeger into the house while a cautious Eren follows behind. The three of them seat themselves in the living room — Eren and Jean on the couch while Mrs. Jaeger glowers at her son from the matching sofa chair — but nobody says anything. Apparently, they didn’t have a lot to talk about.

“H-how have you been, Mom?’ Eren asks, giving his mom a shaky smile. He probably shouldn’t have said anything. He knows she’s only going to explode at him as she’s apt to do when she’s angry, but the alternative is sitting there in silence until the end of time and he really doesn’t want to keep Jean here longer than necessary.

“I was worried sick about you for the past year you were gone,” his mother replies. Her voice is calm, but Eren can feel the barely contained anger simmering underneath. “I see I was worried about nothing because you seem as fine as ever even though you haven’t bothered to let me know you were alright.”

His mother is absolutely right, but her words still sting. It frustrates Eren that he can’t reveal the true reason why he disappeared for a year. He should probably just bite his tongue and apologize for causing her to worry so much, but he can’t. He’s never been good at apologizing, but he’s even worse about sharing his problems. He’s not sure where to begin, how to explain his burdens, or how to ask for help. So he neither apologizes nor asks for help. Instead, he explodes.

“Why is it that you start nagging me right when I get home?” Eren asks. He’s rising up from his seat. The zombie ignores the panicked whispers from Jean even as his friend tugs at his elbow and begs him to sit back down. “I’m finally home. Isn’t that enough?”

“Why shouldn’t I start nagging? I’m your mother! Am I not allowed to be worried about you?” His mother is standing too, but she’s a dwarf compared to Eren.

“There’s nothing to worry about anymore! I’m right here!”

“You are now! But for how long?” His mother is trembling with anger, her clenched fists shaking by her sides. Her eyes are shining with tears and her face is flushed. “How will I know you won’t disappear again? What if you vanish again without a trace?”

Eren opens his mouth to answer, but Jean suddenly stands between the mother and son.

“I think we should … talk about this alone,” Jean says, gesturing to Eren’s mother and then himself. He’s voice is loud, but he’s not shouting. He glances at Eren and then tilts his chin towards the staircase, gesturing for Eren to exit the room. “Eren, you should go to your room.”

“But -!”

“Go to your room!” Jean and Eren’s mother repeat and Eren has no choice but to scurry up the stairs and into his room.

He starts to sulk as soon as he shuts the door behind him. It’s one thing if his mother tells him to go to his room, but Jean ordering him to his room somehow seems more humiliating. The zombie kicks at the familiar carpet and then, still pouting, looks around the room.

It’s just as he left it. There are still embarrassingly old anime posters plastered on his bedroom walls and action figures decorating his bookshelf. His bed is still here, a tiny twin-sized bed with little rocket ships printed on the sheets. Everything on his nightstand and dresser are the same, even the tiny Pokemon figurines beside his lamp. Eren walks over to pick one up and turns it in his hand, wondering why there isn’t any dust on anything. He realizes why a second later and feels a strange pain in his chest. He sets the figurine down and walks towards his bedroom door. It’s impossible to hear what his mother and Jean are talking about downstairs, but he presses his ear against the door anyway.

As expected, he can’t make out any words. Eren can hear his mother speaking, her voice high-pitched and hysterical. Jean’s voice is low and soothing in comparison. Eren’s not sure how Jean is able to speak to his mother. Whenever Eren argued with her, he could hardly get a word in. From what he can hear, Jean speaks every once in a while, but it’s mostly his mother talking. There’s a pause on the other end and Eren can’t hear a thing for a moment, just a sound like someone crying. He presses his ear a little bit closer against the door, but it doesn’t seem to help at all. After a moment, the crying stops and Jean speaks again.

Eren wonders if he should open the door and take a peek outside. It’s not like he’s five. He’s a zombie in his early twenties (or does age restart once you’re reanimated?) and can do what he wants. His hand hovers over the doorknob and is about to turn it when the door is yanked open and he nearly falls over. He stumbles a few steps and looks up to see Jean standing in front of him with an amused expression on his face.

“Were you … trying to eavesdrop?” Jean asks.

“N-no!” Eren replies a little too quickly. He stands up straight and clears his throat. As casually as he can, he asks, “What did you guys … talk about?” He glances behind Jean where his mother is standing and is surprised to see that her face is red and blotchy, and her cheeks are stained with tears. For a moment, he falters, “Mom, what … what happened?”

His mother turns her face away and hastily wipes her cheek with a finger. “I spoke with Jean. He told me what happened and that … you two are in a relationship now.” The words make Eren flush. He’s about to deny all of it, but his mother continues to speak. “He’s assured me that he would take good care of you so … I’ve consented to the two of you living together just so long as you call home and visit every once in a while so that I know you’re okay.”

It’s a lot to take in all at once, so Eren can only stand there in stunned silence. He doesn’t even notice when Jean takes his hand until the makeup artist intertwines their fingers. Surprised, he’s about to pull away but Jean keeps a firm grip.

“Come on, Eren,” Jean says, tugging Eren along lightly. “Let’s go home.”

He’s not sure what happens in between the time they leave Eren’s room and start walking down the street. Eren vaguely remembers saying goodbye to his mother and seeing her shut the door. He thinks he recalls walking down the steps of his front porch and wondering why he could hear muffled sobbing from inside his house, and he remembers turning back and wondering if he was just imagining his mother’s silhouette watching them from the kitchen window. They make it half a block down the street before Eren realizes he’s still holding Jean’s hand. He withdraws it quickly and Jean looks back, surprised.

“How did you get my mom to agree to this?” Eren asks Jean.

Jean looks slightly irritated at Eren, although the zombie has no idea why. “It’s like she told you,” Jean replies. He runs a tired hand through his hand and sighs after Eren gives him a look that says he doesn’t believe the makeup artist one bit. “I told her that you were just having a rough time after disappearing this past year and that you just needed some help. I said we were together and that I’d take care of you so she wouldn’t need to worry.”

Eren wrinkles his nose. “And she just believed you?”

“Yeah, I mean …” Jean’s voice trails off and he shrugs. He pauses to look at Eren for a moment and then says, “You know, you could have just told her everything. That you’re a zombie and everything. I know we haven’t discussed it with the others, but I think they would have understood.”

“But the secret! And people knowing! I thought we were supposed to do things slowly!” Eren splutters, waving a hand about.

“I know, but … it’s your mom,” Jean says, and Eren knows he’s right in a way. If there’s anyone who deserves to know the truth, it’s his mom. Still, he can’t bear the thought of telling her. “We could have worked it out if you wanted to tell her. Anyway, you know it’s okay to tell people things and ask for help from people, especially people who are close to you. They care about you, you know?”

Eren’s steps falter and he frowns. He’s not sure why Jean is bringing this up. He doesn’t need help, or at least any more help than he has now. He’s fine, isn’t he? Isn’t he managing as a zombie pretty well? Not only is he fooling his mom and other townspeople, but he’s managed to get himself a job too. Why should he ask for help?

Seeing that Eren doesn’t quite get it, Jean sighs once more and shakes his head. “Nevermind,” Jean says. He holds out a hand for Eren to take. “Let’s just go home. It’s getting dark.”

Eren knows that hand is for him, but he can’t bring himself to take it. He hesitates and then shoves his hands in both his pockets.

“Yeah,” Eren says. He pretends not to notice the awkward way Jean sticks his hand in his own pockets. “Let’s go home.”

#erejean #snk #zombie detective au #how to be a zombie series #htbaz series #eren jaeger #jean kirstein

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sleepii-moth · 3 years

Text

(ok so here is my fic its part of my hl2ai au you dont have to look over all that stuff to read this but i recommend it)

Capter 1

Time Goes on Even When You're Dead

summery:

Full of headcrab zombies and other dangerous creatures, the Quarantine Zone is the most dangerous part of city 17, and it just gained its newest member, who has no idea what the fuck is going on.

Benrey was dead.

There was nothing. He couldn't hear, he couldn't see, all he could feel was the suffocating silence of nothingness.

And he ultimately decided that this fucking sucked.

His conscious was still there, at least he could still think, however most of his memories didn't seem to exist anymore.

Benrey would be fine with that, if he hadn't forgotten everything but the one thing thing he so desperately wanted to forget. His friends. Benrey didn't blame them for killing him, it was justified at least.. but it still hurt.

And now he's stuck here, in this endless unfeeling void, alone.

He groaned and opened his eyes, above him was a broken light fixture attached to an even more broken ceiling. Sunlight flooded in through a nearby window, illuminating the room.

Benrey slowly stood up and looked around. He seemed to be in a house, or at least what was left of one. The walls were practically falling apart, the few peices of furniture in the room were torn to shreds, and the floor near the window was littered with broken glass.

He walked over to the broken window, stepping over fallen shards of glass, and looked outside. Benrey wasnt in Black Mesa anymore, he knew that for sure. In front of him was the remains of a city, pretty much every building seemed to be falling apart in some way. Giant cables were strewn about haphazardly, at if whatever put them there didnt give a shit about preserving the buildings around it.

Benrey tried to comprehend what he was seeing, was this a product of the resonance cascade? Where is he?? He backed away from the window, stepping over the broken glass. None of this made any sense, how long had he been dead for? It couldn't have been that long.. could it?

Benrey gripped his stomach, his heart was pounding, something felt wrong. Suddenly the floor creaked from behind him, and he turned around to hear an all too familiar wail, a headcrab zombie.

He staggered back, unsure of what to do. He didnt have any way of defending himself now, no one was even here to save him. The zombie stumbled forward and swung at Benrey who somehow managed dodge. He looked around for an exit before sprinting out of an open door and into a stairwell.

He stumbled down the stairs, avoiding a few barnacles, and making his way out of the building and into a wrecked plaza. He seemed to have evaded the zombie for now, but that didn't make him any less uneasy.

Tall, ruined buildings loomed over him, casting permanent shadows on the cracked pavement.

Was this really all that was left? Was he.. the only one left..?

Was everyone- everything.. dead?

Benrey shivered, maybe he should just take things one step at a time. He looked down at his tattered security gaurd uniform and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down.

'Okay.. one step at a time' He thought, making a mental to-do list in his head.

'First, get some new clothes. Second, find something to eat. Third, find somewhere safe to stay… seems simple enough.. right?'

He looked around, at least one of theese buildings has to have some clothes somewhere in them. Finally his eyes fell apon a brick building a lot taller than the rest. Some hope swelled inside Benrey, maybe he could find some clothes- or at least food in there?

The headcrab zombie from before wailed in the distance. He looked back before deciding that he had nowhere else to go, and made his way into the building.

Apon entering the building, Benrey quickly learned that this was in fact, a vodka distillery. Vodka bottles lined every shelf in sight, and natural light poured in through tall windows. Orange Xen growth had completely infected some areas of the building, making it almost impossible to tell what this place used to be.

Benrey groaned and stepped over a dead headcrab that had been incased in xen growth.

"gross.." He mumbled under his breath before accidentally stepping into a cloud of spores.

Before he knew it he had fallen over onto the ground, coughing. His lungs burned as he desperately tried to catch his breath and cover his mouth at the same time. After a few seconds he managed to crawl out of the way of the cloud and into fresh air, before collapsing up against a wall.

After regaining his strength Benrey slowly got up and silently made a mental note in his head, 'Okay.. so orange clouds of dust can kill you. got it.'

He was glad that the spores seemed to be the only threat at the moment, he could at least evade those more easily than a headcrab. He still kept his gaurd up though, he wasn't sure if xen growth alone could kill a headcrab..

Benrey carried on through the building, this time making sure to avoid the toxic orange spores, or at least cover his mouth when he encountered them. The further he went the more dense the xen flora got, in some places it didn't look like he was even on earth anymore.

Something about this felt wrong to Benrey, he wasn't sure what though. He just had this encroaching feeling that something was here with him, something he didn't want to see.

Eventually he made his way to a room where all the xen growth seemed to just.. stop. A container full of some sort of bright orange liquid sat in the corner of the room, the little xen growth that surrounded it seemed to be covered in a strange orange plasticy substance.

There was big black text printed on the front of the container that read: "INFESTATION CONTROL"

Light flooded in through a window, shedding onto a few empty vodka bottles laying on a nearby table, along with some miscellaneous tools. Benrey could see bloodstains on the almost broken window, and broken glass from vodka bottles littered the floor.

There were signs of people rushing out of the room. People were here, and they definitely left in a hurry. Benrey had a feeling that whatever was here definitely wasnt friendly.

He picked up a broken off chair leg and slowly made his way over to a door at the other end of the room. Raising his new weapon defensively, he peeked outside the doorway. The tension in his shoulders eased and he took a breath of relief, nothing.

'Whatever was here mustve moved on' Benrey thought to himself, before turning around and bumping into a shelf, causing a bottle of vodka to fall to the floor and shatter. He sighed and moved the shattered glass out of the way of his foot when suddenly he heard a loud thump behind him, and the sound of large, heavy footprints.

Benrey turned around to see what appeared to be a headcrab zombie covered in xen growth with a large, gaping mouth, and it was barreling right towards him.

His legs moved before he could even think and the next thing he knew he was sprinting through the doorway as fast as he could.

The zombie seemed to be slower than Benrey, but he doubted it would take long for the monster to catch up. He recklessly weaved through shelves of vodka, knocking down bottles left and right. He didnt care about making a mess, only priority was to leave as fast as possible.

That however, was his downfall.

It wasnt long before he reached a dead end. He gripped the chair leg in his hand and waited for the zombie to inevitably find him. His only option now was to fight. And sure enough, the zombie came stumbling towards him at full speed. It was even more terrifying up close, the xen growth on its back had melded into its skin, and was spewing out orange clouds of spores.

Benrey covered his mouth and raised his weapon preparing to fight- but the monster just.. stood there.

Its mouth was wide open, it was looking right at him and could attack at any time- but it just.. stood there. Staring.

Benrey froze, was it.. toying with him?

After a few seconds the zombie seemed to loose interest and wandered away. Why didn't it attack him? Was it not able to see? He looked over at the bottles of vodka on the shelves, remembering what had caused the monster to appear in the first place. He quietly grabbed a bottle off the shelf and threw it in the other direction of the zombie, and watched as it immediately ran to where the bottle was thrown.

'Noise..' Benrey thought to himself 'so its attracted to noise.'

He grabbed another bottle and slowly started to sneak past the zombie. He quickly and quietly made his was over to a doorway, and threw the vodka bottle as her as he could in the other direction, leading the monster away from him.

As soon as he was sure the zombie had been led away, he immediately sprinted into the doorway, closing it behind him as quietly as possible and blocking the door.

Still holding his chair leg, he made his way through the rest of the distillery. This time making sure to avoid making noise.

Eventually Benrey reached an exit, and grabbed a bottle of vodka to take with him. He wasnt sure when he'd see any sort of clean water again. He wandered into an abandoned hotel and found a mostly in tact room. It wasn't much, but as least he managed to find some less destroyed clothes and a bed.

As he layed down to rest in a broken hotel, in an even more broken city, he couldn't help but think about how much he wanted things to go back to normal, about how much he wanted to go home.

But there was nothing left of normal, or his home. This was it.

I guess time really does go on, even when you're dead.

#cw: mild gore blood and body horror #(a lot of its just the stuff you see in hla)#ask to tag #hlvrai #nhlvrai #hlvrai au #hlvrai benrey #hlvrai benry #hl2ai

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fuckingdeadbutroyal · 4 years

Text

Jasonette July- Soulmate AU- Part 3

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Bruce would never admit it. No, of course not. Bruce was a literal father of eight, Catwomans fiance and motherfucking Batman himself. Right then, standing in the ruins of what was once “The City of Love”? He could not handle the situation. There should have been more people coming to Paris’ rescue, more heroes offering their support and overall more attention on everything that was happening, more attention on what has been going on for years. The irritation seeped into the batfamily like some kind of mist. Everyone felt it, but each person was dealing with it in their very own, individual way.

For example there currently was a frustrated Cassandra Cain asking Tim for directions, while using a crowbar to open a door that has been sealed shut by the rubble of one of the broken buildings. She was angry, or at least that’s what she has been taught this emotion was called. The decade she has spent on the streets of Gotham have made her capable of handling all kinds of tools and left her with every necessary skill there was, if you needed to open a door or look for something any other person would not have paid any attention to. The young adult wasn’t keen on following her main mission. The villain could be caught later, but those people were dying right then and there. Tim has told them about the Miraculous Cure. Yes, all those people would come back to life if only their heroine would finally manage to catch that damn akuma.

The memories would stay though. The city would consist of traumatised citizens and be vulnerable to further attacks or, in the worst case, further manipulation. Dick could not stop thinking about what could happen afterwards. What are they going to do once the villain has been eliminated and the miraculous cure has been cast? How would the citizens of Paris react when some sociopath would raise their voice and demand power and set up rules and just overall exploit the damaged and desperate minds of the victims?

Would this emotional trauma lead to new extremists?

Would they have to fight a new Hitler or have to assassinate the next Stalin? Speaking of assassination: Damian was raging. His already bad temper was a perfect starting point, which means that now that he had mixed his constant anger with the situational rage... he felt alive.

He remembered that that was what superboy has felt like the first time he realised he could fly. Kon-Els’ emotions were always very...expressive. He loved to indulge every bit of adrenaline and excitement he could reach. Damian was glad to have him as his soulmate, though. The other boys positivity and extroverted way of acting was complementary to Damians introverted defensivness. Kon-Els’ habit of sharing his pleasent emotions and sensations through their soulmate-bond has opened the Wayne heirs eyes in several ways.

Now the youngest batfamily-members’ adrenaline and rage-filled soul was holding back from sharing that powerup with his lover, though. Instead he was focusing on Paris and subconciously hoping not to remember it in it’s current form, having planned on taking his boyfriend there for their anniversary. No, instead he was looking at those pained faces and ruins. His mind was tunneled, sure, but whatever he saw on the other end of that tube did not stand a single chance. The boy was rummaging through the streets, following each and every one of Red Robins and Batmans orders without giving it a second guess. Damian was reacting to everything colored red that came into his vision. Paired up with his oldest brother, who has taken to asking the citizens about what they have witnessed and if there was anyone who needed immediate help. Damian did not speak. He stared down anyone who didn’t answer them right away and “put on pause” whoever was causing trouble inside the shelters. He was following the “no killing policy”. (Which didn’t mean he held back.) A broken bone was a broken bone, no matter if it killed you or just immobilsed you for a few weeks. Dick did not approve of Damians actions, but the young one was careful not to leave a trace of his doings and knew for sure that there wouldn’t be anyone who would dare to tattle on him, not if they valued their oh so precious teeth.

Each and any trace that could lead them to the villains identity has been collected. Barbara paid special attention to accuracy and professionalism, no matter how difficult it was. She didn’t allow herself to loose focus, didn’t turn away from the mission. She wanted to, oh how much she wanted to just stop looking at those weird dusty footprints and butterfly themed anythings and pull the people in misery out of their ashes. Orakle couldn’t dare do it, though. Anyone else has already stopped paying attention to the mission. If she did too, there would be no one left to find the source of evil. She kept on playing the matra her father has taught her in the back of her head: “Find the criminal, save the future victims, find the criminal, save the future victims...”

The future was uncertain, even for Duke. His photokinetic skill let him see into the near future, aswell as a bit of the past. But that didn’t help because that day he just couldn’t see anything but death and destruction in both directions. His vision was clouded with blood and dust and he quite honestly felt blind and useless. They should’ve come sooner, they didn’t have the right to leave these people to their own devices. Especialy since they knew that their devices were malfunctioning. The boys heart was full of regret. If only he could have seen this coming, if only he could have showed the akumatised victim a way out! It was his job as “The Signal” after all, he didn’t wear this annoyingly bright yellow suit for no reason!

Tim was surprisingly calm. He had his coffeemashine working, Alfred keeping him comany in the batcave and several constant sources of information keeping him entertained. He hated to admit it, but for once he felt fulfilled. His brain was working at just the right pace, he was giving out orders and information without having to secondguess himself and could allow himself to just let the mission take it’s course. He saw the dots moving around on the screen, saw the battlefield growing and changing and knew when to usher his family away from, or even towards danger. Yes, the pressure was incredibly high, but oh god was it exhilarating.

Which didn’t mean he wasn’t annoyed when his orders were being ignored. Cass not listening to him he has already been counting on, she was saving the people and that was all he needed her to do. Stephanies string of fate, which was connected to Tims heart, was safe and sound and she kept him updated about her actions, so he was fine with keeping her out of the equation, for now. Jason though?

“Hood! What the fuck is up with you?”, Tim signaled his older brother, who was currently walking at the pace of an elderly zombie and, for whatever reason, constantly turning in the direction of the Saine, completly disregarding the route Tim has assigned him on. “I totally get your need for caffeine now, Red.”, Jason laughed in return, “doesn’t mean I support it though.” Having said that he went back to silently brooding in the direction that was making him even more tired than he already was.

Jason was exhausted, but he wasn’t dumb. He’d guessed that his soulmate had to be somewhere in the area and he was certain that the strenghtening bond was due to their proximity. The further he walked the more he felt them. Or in other words, felt his body succumb to their weakness. Whoever they were, Jason knew they were on the verge of dying. A soulmates bond can only do so much. Sure, if he ate and slept for two, his bonded would get their share, but it still wasn’t enough. Judging by the way he was currently about to collapse, they haven’t been taking care of themselves for a while now. Jason had to do something. He needed to find them and get them to someplace where they could recover, at least enough for Jason to be able to get back to work again.

Blinking, Red Hood realised where he was. Where there should have been water, just a few dozen meters in front of him, were...

“Red, am I hallucinating or is that river full of giant ladybugs?”

“Those are boats. Their color indicates them to be Lucky Charms, a creation of Ladybugs superpower. Batman and the others have found several other items all over the city and collected the ones they could. Apparently Ladybug has to throw them in the air in order to cast the cure. Are you capable of investigating these ones? I think they could be shelters but my drones haven’t arrived yet so we have no heatvision to investigate from abov-”

“I’m on it.”, Jason interrupted him, having gotten a grasp of the situation and, due to his tiredness, not being capable of listening for such amounts of information without succumbing to the monotone lullaby of another human beings voice.

Tim watched in wonder, as the big, scary, red hooded man stopped midtrack, made a 90° turn and climbed into a destroyed cafe. He came out of it, several minutes later, armed with what seemed like two cups of coffee, a bag full of food held between his teeth and unconcious parisians on each one of his shoulders. Jason carefully squatted, letting them down at the door of the nearby akuma-shelter and sitting crosslegged next to them. After carefully dropping his bag of baked goods in his lap and downing the probably burning hot coffee from his left hand in one go, he finally turned his com back on and just sat there, eating.

A few moments had passed before Tim mustered up the courage to speak to him. He’s been fighting evil in the streets of the most crime-ridden city their planet had to offer for years now, but never in his whole career has he seen something as terrifying as that man he considered a brother, who he knew had commited murder, died and come back to life, just sit and eat while everything around him consisted of ruins, death and destruction.

“Tho-those civilans. Did you-?”

“I knew you would ask that!”, a full mouth replied, “Of fucking course not. They were knocked out by their bloody ceiling collapsing onto their damn heads. They’re still breathing and I’m sure there’s like, first aid in those shelters. I just gotta-”, he took another bite, taking his time, again swallowing his second cup of coffee in one go and letting out an exhausted but slightly more energized breath, “I just gotta recharge, then I’ll be on my way.”

“Are you okay? Why so weak all of a sudden?”

“Who are ya calling weak, replacement?”

“I meant what I said, now spill.”

An uncharacteristical sigh escaped Jasons lips. He didn’t like speaking of his soulmate. It made him feel weak, especialy due to their bond consisting of literal suffering. Given the current situation, though, he decided to share.

“Did you know I have a soulmate?”

Tims surprise was evident but he did not dare speak up, in fear of disrupting his brothers confession.

“We’re kind of a fucked up pair, to be honest. Our bond isn’t as cute as yours and Spoilers. It’s like...very physical. Whenever she gets hurt I get the same bruise.”

Jason now knew she was female. He felt her much more intensely, recognized those physical attributes he was sensing. If felt weird and he would have to get used to it. (Only if the both of them were going to survive the next few hours, of course.)

He took another bite of the third pastry he was currently eating, before continuing: “Whenever one of us has hurt ourselves when we were little, the other did something similar in some sort of “payback”. It was dumb. Silly realy...”

Tim was only half listening. As much as he wanted to know every tiny detail of this secretive mans confessions, he still had a job to do. A shelter not far from Dukes whereabouts has been covered by more debris and was therefore in danger of collapsing on itself. He gave out orders to everyone but Jason. Red Robin had a guess considering what he was about to be told and couldn’t risk ignoring that possibly incredibly important piece of information.

Jason was finishing his seventh pastry, while explaining to Tim how he recognized Paris through his soulmate and pointed out how odd it was, that she knew what every angle looked like from above and how she has never set foot inside an akuma-shelter.

Saying it out loud made it painfully obvious. Especially when he paired the information with the fact that his wounds seemed to heal so quickly and the exhaustion the bonded pair was feeling.

Ladybugs powers include healing.

Ladybug was fighting the most difficult battle this war has ever offered.

Ladybug was Jasons soulmate and he knew where he could find her.

------------------------

Hello!!!

I hope you are having a great day, night, morning...probably night. Nighttime is tumblrtime after all.

Thank you SO MUCH for all your feedback, it is now my fuel, my water, my blood, I love y’all.

Also, English is my third language so please, if you find any mistakes or notice a grammatical sin: please tell me! I am still learning and would love to correct my mistakes.

Part 4 is in the making and either it will be very long or I’ll make a part 5. No promises though!

P.S.: Proper Jasonette is finally happening next chapter, I’m excited ^^

I never would have thought I’d get to say that but I now have a taglist! If you want to be added just tell me in whichever way: I will find you and I will tag you *insert evil laughter*

Tag List \o/:

@maribat-is-lifeblood @lokilex @amayakans

Thanks for reading ^^

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mossworth · 3 years

Note

Oh wow I'm guessing this is for the OC prompt? That was fast! Lemme think... other than one group, I'm probably going to rank them individually, because if they were in their written groups they'd all have a pretty fair shot. (we're going to have a whole mix of original writing and fan-characters. And in case you're not sure who each one is, I'll link their story/art/whatever I have of them in the titles!)

Thanks so much for the ask!

"4. Rank your OCs from most likely to survive the zombie apocalypse, to least."

1.) Candlewit (D&D):

Maybe it's because she's a warforged and the whole "flesh-eating" business isn't too much of a threat, maybe it's because of the wild magic seeping and crackling out of every nick-notch-and-scratch, or maybe it's her giant ice saw. But I wouldn't have a single doubt that she'd do just fine. Honestly, wouldn't be too far off from the regular. I should write about the time she nearly got bludgeoned (but didn't!) by a ghost because she didn't realize they were supposed to be fighting.

2.) James Brotz (Ghoul Parade)

Dude's magic. Dude's good** at magic. Dude's Most Likely to Befriend the Zombies and Make an Undead Army.

3.) Ardolf Folke Greymouth (Greymouth/D&D)

Ardolf's been surviving a lot for a while - not to mention the whole lycanthropy business. Between his medical knowledge and his actual abilities as an adventurer, I'd have faith in him. Though he'd absolutely be the sort of character who'd use himself as bait to distract a horde or something so his survival isn't 100%. Give him some kids to watch after, though, and he'd jump to the top of this list out of spite alone.

4.) The Greymouth Family (Bjarne [father], Sigfrid Torø [mother], Hlidowig Baard Mør [Grandad]. Þorir [youngest son], Roald Oddr [middle son]) (Greymouth/D&D)

I'm going to group all of these folks together since I haven't done a lot with them individually? But as one unit. Oh yeah, oh without a doubt. They'd be running their mountaintop clinic at top priority with running defenses and everything. The zombies wouldn't have a chance. Though since they're not exactly adventurers I wouldn't hedge my bets - specifically if the zombies got in.

5.) Dh’ie the Mist-minded (Skyrim)

Without any good cities to beg in she'd be left high and dry. She had some solid training from the Vigilants but that didn't exactly last long. So, unless one of those Daedric Princes she's messing around with decide she's too entertaining to let go of and help her out, she'd have a real rough time.

6.) Martin Finley (Ghoul Parade)

He's... he doesn't exactly count as undead. He's pretty good with a gun, but poor dude would do bad on his own. He might be in the business of getting the zombies to let them in their club, though. He about fits the part - they eat the same thing!

7.) Illistar Motts (D&D)

Unless he could convince himself into some already established camp (which... I'd have zero doubts he wouldn't be able to. Dude can talk himself into anything so-long as they don't mind tieflings), he'd be toast. Ilistar's a high charisma build and otherwise doesn't have much going for him. Plus, Heteroclite - his patron - would undoubtedly be the worst traveling partner. He'd tell Illistar to rush right into a horde because he'd want to see how they'd munch around the horns.

8.) Jo Marie (Ghoul Parade)

Look, he might be a vampire. And when he gets the hang of that whole business he might be pretty dang strong. But this accountant has barely gotten over the blood thing, let alone trying to cope with an apocalypse. If he were left to his own devices he'd die, or kind of die in a weird half-vampire way.

~ Disqualified ~

Alec Kahloon (Fallout):

He was born and raised in an apocalypse so I don’t think he counts. He’d survive without a doubt, though. Shark tooth medic man my beloved.

Gor’valdur Faelore (Skyrim):

He’s… he’s technically already undead so I feel like that’d be cheating. But like more undead than the Ghoul Parade guys.

**He's not really that good at magic. But everyone around him is worse which makes him an authority by proxy. Lord help them all.

#writblr #writing #oc #oc ask #writeblr #Ghoul Parade #Ardolf Greymouth #fallout 4 #fallout 76 #fallout oc #skyrim #skyrim oc #Greymouth

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ethanlivemere · 3 years

Text

Half-Life²: Anticitizen - Chapter 2

(Prologue and chapter 1 can be found on my profile)

Chapter 2

Friendly Faces

Barney Calhoun was a valued member of the Black Mesa Security Force. He did his job well and was particularly respected by the other security guards for his ability to passive-aggressively give a piece of his mind to some of the more pompous scientists who treated the security team as their inferiors, without ever directly disobeying their orders. He was the kind of guy you could grab a beer with after work – something I had been meaning to do for a long time before the… incident. I had always felt I had more in common with him than any of my fellow scientists: not only did we both have the bad habit of not being the most punctual, but he also gave a me a good run for my money when it came to my high scores on the Black Mesa Hazard Course. While other scientists were busy competing for grant money, I was out trying to one-up Barney at the shooting range.

I thought he was dead. That he had been lost in the aftermath of the Resonance Cascade, eaten by a bullsquid, or worse, turned into a grotesque zombie like so many others. And yet, here he is, standing in front of me with his arms spread as he cheekily grins at me, now sporting the black Metropolice uniform instead of the familiar BMSF standard-issue bulletproof vest and helmet. His face, previously hidden behind the white gasmask, looks older than I remember. The first hints of gray have started to appear at the base of his dark hair and in his 5 o’clock shadow. His face looks tired and worn out beneath his cheerful expression. The eyes are what give it away: I’ve seen the same exhausted eyes on every citizen I have encountered so far. They’re the eyes of a man who has been through hell. Well, I guess that’s one more thing we have in common.

“Surprised to see me?” Barney asks, noticing the probably visible confusion on my face. “Well, that makes two of us, Gordon. Where’ve you been? It’s been ten years, man!” Ten years. So the man in the suit was telling the truth. It’s really been ten years since Black Mesa. What happened in that time? “Sorry about the scare earlier, I had to put on a show for the cameras,” Barney says, pointing over his shoulder at the disabled scanner on the ceiling. “Listen, I know you have a lot of questions but I can’t keep you here too long. I’ve been working undercover with Civil Protection, we need to get you out of here before they get suspicious. All I can tell you for now is that if you thought Black Mesa was as bad as it could get, well… you’re in for a nasty surprise.” He turns around and starts fiddling with the console. Symbols flash on the screens, the same symbols that I saw on the Consul’s broadcasts and the red bands on the shoulders of the Metrocop uniforms. Whatever they are, Barney seems to understand them.

“Okay Gordon, we’re gonna try to get you to Dr. Kleiner’s lab. It’s not too far from here, in an old warehouse in an industrial part of the city.” Kleiner? Does he mean… Isaac Kleiner? Could he be alive too? “I can’t take you there personally unfortunately, I have a shift to get to if I don’t want to blow my cover. But I’ll let one of my guys in the streets know you’re coming, he’ll show you the way.” Barney walks to a small window that looks out over an equally small courtyard. He opens it and looks out. “Go through that door over there. You should be able to get to the plaza. My guy will meet you there.” He walks back to the desk and starts putting the front of his mask back in place.

I look through the window. It’s about an eight foot drop; nothing I can’t handle. The claustrophobic courtyard is empty save for a trashcan lying on its side on the mossy tiles. The door Barney was talking about is the only entrance or exit. I look back to the once again unrecognizable Barney. I briefly thank him, and he salutes me with two fingers. “I’ll see you later, Gordon. Try not to draw any attention to yourself,” his distorted voice sounds through the mask. I nod him goodbye and swing my leg over the windowsill, effortlessly jumping down and landing safely. I look up and see the window being closed. I guess I’m on my own again.

The rusty door takes me to a small boiler room, which leads into a short corridor. I let my instincts and the faint sound of the Consul’s voice guide me through the station and I soon find myself in the entrance hall. Like the rest of the building, it is a dilapidated remnant of former glory. What once were ticket booths have been transformed into some sort of dispensing machine, which slowly spits out featureless brown packages into the eager hands of the shabby citizens who form a long, patient queue under the watchful eye of Metrocops. Above them, the Consul spouts the same repeating message: “Welcome to City 17.”

A woman walks by, clutching her newly received package against her chest. I can now see some of the alien symbols on the brown, paper-like exterior, as well as some readable text: 4 rations. She glances at me but quickly directs her eyes back to the ground in front of her as she walks towards the exit. I follow her to the large, wooden double doors. She takes one hand off the ration packet to open the door, but in doing so looses her grip on the packet and drops it on the floor with a soft thud. She nervously glances around as she quickly picks it back up again, and I decide to help out by opening the door for her. I try to give her the warmest smile I can fake as she walks by. “We can’t be seen talking to each other,” is the only thing she mutters to me under her breath as she heads out into the daylight.

Although… daylight might be an exaggeration. The sight that greets me when I step outside is no different in tone than the station and the train ride before it, yet it still shakes me to my core. The plaza consists of a small, empty fountain surrounded by dead hedges and flanked by two tall pillars, each topped with a bronze statue of a prancing horse. Plastic bags, empty bottles and other kinds of small trash litter the otherwise empty street surrounding the plaza, and the only vehicle is a large armored car surrounded by a patrol of Metrocops. The few citizens that walk the street keep as close to the surrounding buildings – abandoned stores and boarded-off hotels – as possible. It is then that my eye falls on the gigantic structure that emerges beyond the buildings. It’s a looming spire of rust brown metal that forms an irregular shape I recognize from the various posters around the train station. Its exact height is impossible to tell as it disappears into the greenish clouds that obstruct the sky, but there is no doubt it is incredibly large – so large, in fact, that I’m amazed it took me so long to notice it. Several of the metal plates that layer the outside of the structure seem to move at very slow paces, almost as if the building is alive, and sometimes it looks like something flies in to or out of one of the many slits and crevices in the jagged exterior.

I tear my gaze away from the ominous sight and scan the plaza more attentively. Barney said he would have a guy tell me where to go once I got out of the station, but I can’t spot a single citizen not minding their own business like their lives depend on it – which they probably do. I walk down the stairs in front of the station’s entrance. I follow the citizens’ example and keep close to the buildings, heading the opposite way of the Metrocop patrol. I duck into a shadowy doorway to get out of their sightline and look around again when I hear a hushed “Hey!” coming from a bit further down the street that sprouts from the plaza. I see a young man beckoning me from another doorway. I glance around for Metrocops, decide that the coast is clear and hurry towards him. He is dark-haired, wears the same familiar citizen’s uniform and looks to be about my age… come to think of it, what is my age? Barney was about my age at Black Mesa, but the ten years since then are clearly visible on him, while the few times I’ve seen my own reflection since my ‘awakening’ hadn’t shown me any changes in my own appearance.

The man pulls me out of my thoughts when he grabs my arm and pulls me into the shadow of the doorway. “You’re Freeman, right?” I nod. “The name’s Jeremy. Barney told me to get you to Kleiner’s.” He looks at my chest, where Samuel had earlier noted the absence of an identity tag. “We won’t be able to get you through checkpoints since you’re not a registered citizen. Just follow me.” He starts walking down the street and looks at me over his shoulder. “It’s great to have you with us, Freeman. There’s no doubt you’ll be a great help in our fight against the Combine.”

I follow Jeremy through the abandoned streets of City 17. He seems to be excellent at avoiding Civil Protection, because we never cross them; I only ever see them in adjacent streets. Sometimes they are accompanied by an armored vehicle, sometimes they are stationed at a barricade of black metal, watching people get scanned before a gate opens to let them through. I guess these are the checkpoints we can’t pass through – or at least I can’t. While we walk, my guide confirms what I already knew: after the Resonance Cascade, Earth was invaded by an alien empire he calls the ‘Combine’, who laid waste to the planet and enslaved humanity. The otherworldly skyscraper in the middle of the city – called the Citadel – is their bastion. Apparently, every city has its own Citadel, but the one in City 17 is special in that it is also the residence of the Consul – Earth’s new leader.

He then tells me about a resistance group fighting back against the Combine rule. He says there are many resistance fighters outside of the city, but that Barney and Dr. Kleiner lead the more covert operatives within City 17. He remarks that I probably know Kleiner and I nod. I don’t just know Isaac Kleiner, he was my professor and mentor at MIT. I was one of his favorite and ‘most promising’ students (his words), and when I applied for the position of research associate at Black Mesa, it was Kleiner’s recommendation that got me the job, where I worked alongside him on the Anomalous Materials team until… Well, let’s try not to think about that too much now. It seems there are bigger issues at hand than regret.

Even though we successfully evade the Metrocops and their checkpoints, the Combine is visible everywhere in one way or another. For a start there is the Citadel always towering over the rooftops, a menacing silhouette on the dark sky. But the old, human-built buildings have also been corrupted by Combine technology. Large, complex locking mechanisms cling onto old wooden doors like tumorous growths. Smaller versions of the enormous wall I saw surrounding the city fill up gaps they themselves made, obsidian metal swallowing brick and stone. Watchtowers and other Combine structures have been planted on top of buildings, walls and roofs bending under their weight. Cables and pipelines run across and through walls like vines sprouting from concrete. There’s something almost fascinating about how the stoic, geometric order of the human city and the clean, essentialist order of the Combine tech overlap in a patchwork with chaos and destruction wherever they meet.

A rhythmic sound has been growing louder for a while now. Upon listening more closely, I realize it’s the sound of marching. An army marching. Jeremy rounds a corner and stops dead in his tracks. “Damn it… not good.” Down the street, at an intersection with a wide boulevard, I see dozens of soldiers walking in formation. They look a lot like Metrocops, but their masks are dark gray and they wear thick padding in camouflage colors instead of the black uniforms. They carry automatic rifles and their heavy combat boots send echoing thuds through the streets. I see several people standing by, watching the military procession walk down the street. My companion walks closer and I cautiously follow him. “Really not good. We have to cross this street, but this parade blocks our path.” He looks to both sides as if estimating its length. “I can’t even see the synths yet. This could easily go on for another twenty minutes. We can’t wait that long.” He looks up at the buildings flanking the street and points to a skyway that connects two apartment buildings on either side. “There.” I follow him down the street as he heads towards a large opening in the wall of the apartment building with the skyway. The opening is closed off by a cast iron fence, but its lock seems to have been broken for a long time and Jeremy simply pushes it open. It turns out to be a passage to a courtyard between the apartment buildings, with dark, vigilant windows and balconies looking out over it.

“Okay, you’re not supposed to come here if you don’t live here, so technically we’re trespassing,” Jeremy says to me as we make our way to the exterior staircase on one of the high walls surrounding the courtyard. “Then again, you were already illegal, so-” He cuts himself off abruptly freezes, seemingly listening. Over the still loud marching I can hear a soft, mechanical whirr with an occasional beep. Jeremy looks up and immediately grabs me. “Combot!” he shouts as he pulls me in the direction of the nearest door. I catch a brief glimpse of a floating drone with a single yellow eye before a bright, white flash blinds me. I stumble backwards and Jeremy, presumably also blinded, starts swearing with panic in his voice. The slow beeps of the drone turn into an alarm as I slowly regain my sense of sight, and when I can properly see again I find it’s still hovering in the same spot. By now I have seen enough examples of Combine technology to recognize that this so-called Combot is another one. Four metal flaps surround its eye, which has now turned red as it shines its flashlight onto us and continues its alarm.

Jeremy grabs me again and pushes me towards the staircase. “Look, it’s too late now. They know we’re here, there will be Metrocops swarming all over this place in half a minute. You gotta get out of here and get to Kleiner’s. I’ll hold them off.”

I try to object but am interrupted by a distant female voice echoing through the air: “Attention, Civil Protection team: unauthorized civil activity detected in residential block 67B. Investigate and report.”

Jeremy looks to the sky as if he’s looking for the source of the disembodied voice and then looks back to me. “Go through the residential block across the street, through the industrial district. Barney will meet you at the Manhack Arcade.” He points to something on the wall next to the stairs: between the various graffiti is a familiar Greek letter drawn in orange paint. “Follow the lambdas. They indicate safe routes for Resistance allies. Go!”

I hesitate for a second. I don’t want to leave him behind in the clutches of Civil Protection, but he doesn’t seem like he’s planning on going anywhere, so I give him a respectful nod before turning around and running up the stairs. I go as fast as I can, and I am almost at the top when I hear footsteps and the shriek of the broken gate. I look down and see several Metrocops run onto the courtyard with their batons ready. Jeremy puts his hands on his head before he gets grabbed by two Metrocops and forced onto his knees. One Metrocop steps forward. He looks different than the others, wearing a trench coat and carrying some kind of radio pack on his back. He asks Jeremy a question I can’t understand and when he doesn’t get an answer, he gestures to one of the Metrocops holding Jeremy down. A flash of blue as a stun baton is planted in Jeremy’s side. His body shakes a second before he falls to the ground. The trench coat-wearing Metrocop, probably an officer, barks a couple of brief orders. I can only understand a couple of words: “There were two”. I have to get out of here.

I ascend the final steps as quickly and as quietly as I can. There’s a wooden door at the top. I fidget with the handle. It’s unlocked. I open it, slip inside, and close it behind me. No time to rest. I hear the Metrocops coming up the stairs, and the Combot’s light seeps through the crack under the door. Got to keep moving. I scan the hallway. Apartment doors. Staircase. It’s dark: there are no windows and the lights don’t work, but there is daylight coming from around a corner down the hall. My footsteps echo on the brown ceramic tiles as I run past the closed doors and onto the skyway we had seen from below. Down in the street, the Combine troops are still marching. There are different units among them now. Hulking, mechanical figures, appearing to be almost eight feet tall, carrying enormous alien weaponry no human would be able to carry. These must be the synths Jeremy mentioned. Nestled deep in the armor between the bulky shoulders is something that doesn’t seem completely mechanical. I don’t stay to have a better look. Something tells me it would only disturb me.

I hear Metrocops banging on doors as I start making my way down the stairs of the building on the other side of the road, occasionally followed by a crash of splintering wood. The Metrocops bark orders at panicking citizens as they search the apartments. I use their preoccupation to put more distance between us, sincerely hoping my actions don’t get any of the inhabitants into serious trouble. I descend creaky stairs that wrap around the grating of an elevator shaft. A man stands in a doorway, curious about the noises that echo all the way from the other building, while a woman behind him urges him to go inside and close the door before they get here. I make brief eye contact with the man as I descend. My look must give away that I’m the cause of the tumult, because he whispers to me: “Go through the back door on the ground floor. I never saw you.” Another plea from the woman and he retreats into his apartment and closes the door.

I’m not sure I can trust the man. He might be leading me into a trap, or maybe he will point the Metrocops to where I went when they come knocking on his door. But right now, I have little choice but to accept all the help I can get if I ever want to reach Dr. Kleiner. When I reach the ground floor, there is an entrance hall with rows of mailboxes and a transparent door that leads out into a large street. I can see why the man told me to go out the back: it’s the street where the hordes of soldiers are still marching. I look around for a back door and find it in a windowless, unlit room filled with cardboard boxes. I have to move some of them to get the door open. Beyond the door is a courtyard much like the one where we got spotted by the Combot. The coast seems clear.

I can already tell which way I have to go. Amidst a tapestry of graffiti, there is another lambda drawn in orange spray paint next to a narrow passage. As I follow its guidance, I wonder why they chose this symbol for their ‘safe passages’. I mean, I can certainly guess where they got it from. Word must have gotten out about the Lambda lab’s part in stopping the Resonance Cascade – though, ultimately, it hardly saved Earth. Plus, no one at Black Mesa can really be praised for solving a problem we caused.

Having time to think again as I walk through the alleyway, I ponder exactly what happened to me during the ten years I was in the dark void. By now, I have come to the conclusion that I haven’t aged. My hair and beard haven’t grown, I haven’t gained or lost weight, my joints and muscles aren’t sore. But at the same time, my wounds and bruises from the Black Mesa incident seem to have completely healed. None of the clothes I’m wearing are clothes I have ever owned, yet my glasses are the ones I had on me during the Black Mesa disaster. The ones I managed not to lose throughout all the perils I faced and were cracked and stained with blood by the end, but now rest on my face clean and unscathed.

My memories of the void are a blur, like a distant dream. If it weren’t for the radically changed world I find myself in, I would think it never happened. On top of that, my memories from before the void have also gone blurry – or, rather, before Black Mesa. I can remember Black Mesa like it was yesterday, but my life before Black Mesa (MIT, high school, my parental home…) feels like a vaguely remembered childhood memory, even the things that happened when I was well over twenty. Is this his doing? Is he trying to erase the person I was, only to leave a mindless fighting machine in his stead? Or is it merely a result of the deterioration of a mind over the course of ten years of isolation?

I’m no longer walking between apartment buildings. The streets are narrow and the walls are all brick and pipes and steel beams. Steam rises from grates in the ground and mixes with the faint fog that hangs between the buildings. There is a constant whir of machinery coming from behind the walls. A train passes overhead on the elevated tracks while a lone Combot combs the empty streets. I try my best to stay out of its sight. The train sounds its horn. The Combot rounds a corner. I get the impression the sky has gotten even darker since I left the station.

A strange contraption stands lonely on the sidewalk. It’s a cylindrical tank filled with red liquid, cradled in a humming machine with green gauge lights and power cables running into the wall behind it. Like all other Combine technology, it looks extremely out of place, like someone just dropped it on the street and punched jagged holes into the wall to fit the cables. The Combine clearly plant their machines and facilities wherever they need them without a care for whatever was there before. It makes me angry, of course, but the irony doesn’t escape me. After all, it’s exactly what we did on Xen.

There is a silhouette in the dark liquid. Vaguely humanoid, curled up into a fetal position. I can just about discern a large red eye, half-closed, on the creature’s head. Even through the thick liquid, the shape appears… familiar. It seems impossible to believe, but it almost looks like…

“The Freeman.”

The voice behind me startles me and I spin around. Before me stands a green, hunched over figure with shackles around its long neck, wrists and ankles. All of its red eyes are on me and a vestigial third arm extends itself towards me. If there was any doubt about the creature in the tank, here it is unmistakable: I am standing in front of a Vortigaunt.

“At last, the Combine’s reckoning has come.”

Chapter 3

_________________________________

Yes, you read this right: chapter 2 of Anticitizen, which has been in production since July 2020, is finally finished! And boy, is it a long one! 4000 words, and yet we still haven't even gotten to Dr. Kleiner's lab! (Don't worry, we'll get there soon).

Anywho, here are the accompanying images:

Beta Citadel

Combot

Metropolice officer

Combine Guard synth

Industrial district

Vorti-cell

I'm very excited to finally have this done and ready to be read. I think (and really hope) the next chapter won't take as long. As I said in the last progress update, I have been doing a lot of overarching planning for the story which will make writing easier.

I have made a rough estimate of the story and predict it will be about 32 chapters long, though it's much more likely to be more than that than less, judging from the fact that it's taking 3 chapters just to get to Kleiner's lab. The thing is, you can't predict the length things will have in this story by looking at their length in the game. The opening requires a lot of describing and mood-setting so it's much longer than the short intro in the game. Story parts will be longer than they are in the game, while action parts will be shorter than they are in the game (looking at you, 'Canals' and 'Highway' sections).

By the way, I have started uploading Anticitizen to Reddit now under the name EthanLM427. Do with that what you want.

Anyway, that's it for me. I promise I won't take as long for the next one.

#anticitizen #half life #half life 2 #half life 2 beta #my writing #fanfiction #gordon freeman #barney calhoun

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