#( i like this a lot )

[tex-now]

I peaked with this one

[finngualart]

blood oaths and portends (x)

[oh-katsuki]

a little zombie apocalypse katsuki!au drabble. my twd rewatch is giving me many thoughts...

cw: apocalypse au, reader is alone, mentions of death, implications of child death, grief mentions, reader is described as a "little thing" but that's more just the way katsuki talks, katsuki is a little gruff but he means well, guns, weapons, general apocalypse thoughts, mentions of zombies but we follow the "never call them a zombie" rule, katsuki and reader meeting for the first time, etc

the light of your fire is dim, embers burning low as you sit in a foldable chair beside it. you've got a metal spatula in your hand. you're not sure why you grabbed it when things went to shit, but panic does weird things to the mind. this, along with a few other oddities, are all you managed to take from your house when the world fell to ruin. everything else are things scavenged along the way or from people you'd met, joined, and lost.

the night is near silent and trees creak and crack like the hulls of great ships under heavy pressure, but the birds don't sing and nothing in the crowded wood you're taking shelter in makes a sound. well, except for you and the gentle crackle of your fire.

your head is on a swivel. it has been for months. ever since the outbreak, ever since the dead rose and began consuming and infecting the living, you've kept watch. a paranoid, never ending cycle that you suppose—if left on your own—will burn itself out. you swallow thick and return your attention to the fire, watching the tree line just in front of you for any hint of movement or monsters.

a branch cracks just behind you. a swift sound, followed by rapid footsteps. you stand, quickly turning your head, only to see a a figure a few feet away from you. they move quickly and the dancing light of the fire obscures their features from view. their eyes, most importantly. you can always tell if someone is dead or alive based on their eyes. in this light, should this stranger have that milky white film over them, you wouldn't be able to tell.

you make a small noise, something between a whimper and a shout, as the person comes to a stop in front of you and holds a gun directly between your eyes. the living. this person is alive. you're not sure at this point if encountering one of the dead would have been worse.

"drop your weapon," he says in a hurried voice. it's aggressive and threatening. it comes from deep in his chest.

you raise your shaky hands to your head quickly at the order, screwing your eyes shut as if looking in theirs would be a cause for attack.

"i-it's not a weapon!" you shout, voice cracking. "it's- it's a sp-spatula. it's a spatula."

the words are rushed and heavy, fear seizing your chest as you look down the barrel of the gun. the firelight glints off of it and you can make out the person behind the barrel's features. he's big, blonde under the grime, you think. a man. not the best thing to encounter alone at night in times like these.

you see him hesitate for a moment, eyes darting between you and the silver kitchen item in your hand. you drop it quickly.

"do you have a weapon on you?" he questions, voice a little less urgent.

you shake your head in response and then shakily look beside the chair. there's a knife there and a pistol with no bullets. you're a poor shot and you'd run out of ammo the previous week. he glances to it, the gun still raised at you, and sidesteps to grab them. when he does, he cautiously lowers the weapon. you start to lower your trembling hands.

then, as if struck by some realization, the man stomps towards the fire and you jump as he does.

"the fuck are you doing lighting a fire?" he says angrily. "those things may be dead, but they can still fuckin' see. that's a good way to get yourself killed."

he stomps out the fire as he talks, urgently stamping out what's left of the low-burning logs.

"i- i didn't think there were many in the area," you justify, furrowing your eyebrows as you step away from him.

"and that's a risk you want to take?" he says indignantly. you wonder briefly what business he has worrying about you.

"what do you want?" you snap, "my food? weapons? life? what is it?"

the man scoffs, "jesus, none of that."

you narrow your eyes and take a step back.

"not all people who camp out in the woods are good," he says. "but i sure as shit didn't expect to find some little thing like you alone lighting a damn fire. stupid."

"there were more," you say indignantly, like somehow that makes it better. "force of habit, i guess."

the man pauses for a moment as understanding passes between the two of you. it's a relatable feeling. everyone has lost someone now. you just happened to lose everyone.

"got a name?" he asks.

you hesitate in giving it to him before deciding what it could hurt. the man nods as if he likes the sound of it.

"i'm katsuki," he furrows his eyebrows. "you're alone?"

you nod, swallowing down the grief that pushes at your throat.

"wasn't always," you respond, "but yeah. now i am."

he nods his understanding.

"come with me."

"where?" you say instinctively, a defensive edge to your voice. katsuki looks at you like your stupid, or maybe it's pity, like you're a wounded animal. probably both.

"where the fuck do you think?" he retorts. "we've got a camp a little ways from here. i saw your fire from one of the watch posts we have stationed around the place."

you look at him like he's a little crazy for even thinking to bring you there.

he scoffs and rolls his head over his shoulder. "look, we've got men and women," then he pauses, "used to have children. we're not gonna hurt you. world's gone to shit, do you really wanna keep at it alone?"

he's probably right. you've been alone for weeks now, exhausted for longer, and though your common sense tells you not to go off with a strange man in this kind of world, the promise of community is far too tempting. you nod and glance back to your camp. a measly collection of supplies.

"we'll come back for it when it's light," he says. "i don't know about you, but i'd rather not spend longer in these dark ass woods than i have to."

"okay," you say. the presence of another person both sets you on edge and makes you feel the fatigue even more. a gun's barrel on your nose followed by the promise of safety and you're going with him? you must be stupider than a horror movie protagonist. "do you take in a lot of strays?"

katsuki looks over his shoulder and you think you see him smile a little at the phrase.

"if that's what you want to call it," he says begrudgingly. "me less than the rest." then, with a softer tone of voice, barely noticeable with the quiet whisper you both have been speaking at. "i'm sure the others won't mind one more."

[stevenrogered]

The three of us discovered this really great rhythm and dynamic in the first one. And then they sort of throw it off course in the best way.

[fsfghgee]

Despite the deaths along the way, I found Noob Saibot's ending wholesome

I dunno. I like how Sektor is by his side and all the Lin Kuei behind him. And I have the feeling that his shadow is like a brother to him now.

[synd0nicosmosis]

Cotl fanart jumpscare

[bananabluff]

comfy

[sneeb-canons]

Scents can heavily affect Mind based on what they do. Certain scents can affect your brain, therefore they affect Mind, but to a larger extent.

Lavender and chamomile make him tired and sluggish.

Peppermint makes her alert and a bit anxious.

Cinnamon is his favourite since he can actually feel neurotypical with it.

And floral scents just make her slightly less reluctant to talk to people.

Headcanon #805

[bluewinnerangel]

Wembley 2022 / Wembley 2023

[toofypigeon]

i'm done "work in progress"-ing :3

[tennant-davids]

SUCCESSION

This is how it is, huh? Dad on one side, you guys on the other?

[not-yet-asleep]

e y e b a l l

[sophfandoms53]

This new Sonic Prime clip hit me right in my Sonic and Tails brotherhood loving heart

[stealingyourbones]

What if the reason the JL never find out about Amity Park is simply a Comedy Of Errors. Constantine told Flash to not go there the first time they got a call because something very powerful and very magic lives there, so send a magic user instead. Flash told Cyborg to reroute all calls from Amity to their Biggest Megic User, aka Captian Marvel. Cyborg does so, assuming Cap will notice on his own. A week before this happens, Billy's phone got broken while he was helping Hal Jordan with something. Billy got a new phone and couldn't figure out how to change his number in the database and Aquaman told him he would take care of it once he finished what he was doing. Billy thanked him, put his number on a piece of paper, and left. WW saw a folded up note that a breeze had knocked off the table and simply tossed it in the garbage. Without the paper, Aquaman forgot changing the database was even a task.

6 months later all Amity Park calls are still going to a non existence number.

Oh god that would be SUCH a sad and hilarious fic to write. Flipping in between the League’s perspective of just fucking up ever so slightly so they forget and Amity slowly becoming hell on earth because of the lack of extra help

[yourfavaschips]

Titus from Titus Andronicus by William Shakespeare

Titus from Titus Andronicus would be Pringles Meat Pie!

[schnaf]

impromptu hair stylists ♥