#cannibal sprout au

[severalratstiedtogether]

forgot to post this last night

[sweettoothsprout]

:]

This is an AU Sprout rp blog ran by @severalratstiedtogether . DNI, boundaries, etc that apply there, apply here

Asks will be answered via text (most often), doodles, or a mix of the two.

Other characters may occasionally be avaliable for questions if you ask nicely, just remember this is a Sprout blog.

No sexual asks. Text gore is fine, it's part of the AU.

This blog is just for fun! It's nothing grand or serious. Lets play with our touys. Together

Sprout looks like this v

[ratzhatz14]

Btw, to everyone who sent me asks;

Just know that I am SLOW at answering some, since I get distracted faster than Toodles

But I WILL eventually answer EVERY ASK I HAVE ROTTING IN MY INBOX

For now, have a singular grain of art which most likely insulted the entire scenecore community and gave me hand-soreness

[girlfox]

WAIT NOW I'M CURIOUS sorry if this is such a random question. feel free to ignore ;w; but! which gifts would Ahri enjoy in a visual novel universe? i got SUPER curious, your last post was the cutest thing ever omg

+ in relation to this post.

okay this is the cutest question ever! and thinking of ahri as a romanceable character in a visual novel is just so perfect. ;w; also thank you for liking my original post hehe!

i think she has tiers of gifts, in which you obtain a mild response and a bit of recognition from her, a very pleased response for more recognition, and a flustered response that nets you a ton of affection. and of course gifts she would really hate to the point of reducing your progressing with her.

if you're just starting out romancing 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐊𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐎 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓, you may recognize that she is fond of nature and animals and flowers at a glance. and so, there's a good chance she'll enjoy gifts related to this. well, it's true! ahri does not enjoy grandiose gifts when your relationship is still from acquaintance to friend━━━it makes her feel awkward and pressured. while ahri normally enjoys vast expressions of love and materialism, when it comes from someone she doesn't know well, it feels more than a bit pushy or forced. ahri would certainly accept the gift, but you it'll negatively impact your progress with her. so, be mindful of her feelings when romancing the fox!

now, how do you begin?

at the start of your pursuit, ahri's ♡ ❛ MOST LIKED GIFTS ❜ include basic but meaningful items that show you've taken notice of her interests. this means something to her. you might try: a bouquet of flowers you personally picked ( flowers from another shop or her own will net you massively negative points; even if the bouquet is small or sparse, the intention matters ), a cup of warm floral tea, a spool of pretty ribbon, or fresh fish from the fishmonger.

as you earn her favor, you might become so bold as to offer the pretty fox her ♡ ❛ MOST LOVED GIFTS ❜ which can include: a pretty necklace or bracelet, a historical romance novel, a bottle of sweet wine, spicy noodles, or an expensive fox trinket found only from a particular vendor during a particular festival ( this one will go especially well with her ).

once you have fully romanced ahri, she begins to expect further displays of extravagance, whether that is material or simply as a show of affection. the fox loves deeply and passionately and deserves just the same in return. therefore, you may express yourself to her with ♡ ❛ AN OBJECT OF YOUR INFATUATION, ❜ an item that will lock in her feelings towards you once & for all, signifying your newfound bond. although it may take some time and effort to acquire, it would be in your favor to seek out a highly rare and expensive plant called the 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐄𝐖𝐄𝐋. it is a large, potted flower with massive, dainty leaves and a drooping pink-ish purple bloom with petals the shape of hearts. at night, it has a luminescent glow in it's center, like a jewel that attracts fireflies to flit all about it. its beauty is highly sought after, much like the fox herself.

in order to obtain this ever-lasting gift, one has two paths: at near-maximum affection, ahri will present you with a vial of shimmering water, claiming it to be the tears of mother nature herself. ( the item description is similarly vague, though one can sense old magic infused within ). after purchasing the rare and expensive seeds for this flower, you can nurture it with the water ahri has given you; to grow it with regular water will only result in failure, making this necessary. or, you can hunt down a breeder of this plant and purchase it yourself at an exorbitant price tag. special dialogue acknowledging your efforts will ensue if you go for the option to grow it.

Ahri stares down at the potted flower in her hands, surprise written across a particularly flushed face. It takes her a moment to collect herself, but eventually she looks back to you, breath hitching and water welling within her eyes. ❛ You've grown this for me? I see ... ❜ Ahri smiles softly at you. ❛ I can sense your feelings within it, and I ... I feel the same. Will you promise to nurture me, too? ❜

now, it's all too easy to hand out the wrong gifts when you're still getting to know your chosen bachelorette . . . it is in your best interest to be wary of the following, 'lest you negatively impact your relationship with ahri: coffee, strong liquor, and modern tech gadgets. ( while she is certainly not opposed to it in daily life and uses it herself, it's clearly not something she engages with frequently so gifting it feels as if you've paid little attention to her interests )

lastly, there is a ♡ ❛ SECRET ENDING GIFT ❜ ! although ahri will not make this aspect of herself known without prompting and absolute trust at maximum hearts, she does drop subtle, unintentional hints at times and small clues can be found around her shop & abode of her status as a man-eating fox i.e. smudges of blood, bloodied knives, odd smells late at night, strange reactions to you when you're physically close & have high relationship points. if you wish to engage this part of her, you must take a highly dark turn during your journey and kill a man for her sake. you have one opportunity to do so at near-maximum relationship points, when an intoxicated customer lingers around at night and engages you violently just outside of the shop in an alley. then, you must carve out his most vital organ and present ahri with a 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌, 𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 as your mental fortitude begins to spiral from the reality of the act, becoming consumed by the frenzy of your love for her. in this ending, you offer your eternal devotion to the fox both emotionally and physically, becoming a font of blood and soul whether that is your own or by luring in sacrificial lambs for her time and time again.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part nineteen —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

The cool paste feels tingly on your skin as you rub it against your bruised stomach, wincing. Christ. Maybe Ghost was right to think he might break you. Beneath the mottled patchwork, another kind of pain stirs— your muscles are growing. Firm and tight. The only soft parts of you left are your breasts and your ass. Gently applying the paste to a nasty purple one on your left cheek, you curiously pinch the sore flesh between your fingers. Scratch that. Even your ass is firming up. 

Arnica has healing properties. Yesterday, you found a patch of it with Blue and created a salve with some water. You already applied some last night before bed. Whether or not it’s helping probably doesn't mean much when new ones are about to be added; still, the placebo effect brings some comfort.

You're still massaging your backside when the bathroom door groans beneath a heavy fist. 

"Hurry up. Grab your bow."

“Shit.” You startle, almost dropping the salve. "Uh, coming.”

Chucking on a clean shirt and your old pair of jeans, you pad out of the bathroom, ignoring the cry of your joints. Ghost is outside waiting for you. Wait— bow? Confusion delivers an uptick to your pulse; you never bring your bow to train.

“What’s going on?”

"The air," he replies in a flat tone.

The stale smell offers enough explanation. You cringe. "Should we split up?"

He shakes his head and nods towards the direction the gentle breeze is rolling in. "No need. It's coming from this way."

In the violet wash of morning, you trail beside him over tall grasses and scattered groundhog burrows as the air leads the way, luring you opposite the clearing where you train. There haven't been any Greys since the one you burned together. For the past few weeks, you'd almost forgotten about their existence— a pleasant naivety for once. 

Neither of you bothers with much small talk. He asks if you're sore, probably noticing how stiff you are, and you answer honestly. That's it.

You keep your attention strictly on the wood bow molded into your palm and the slight rustling of leaves all around you, scanning for signs of anything astray. You don't look at Ghost, even when you feel his eyes flicker to the side of your head. Staring at him for even a second longer than necessary rouses something in your gut that was once easy to label as fear; now you don't know what to call it.

He is wearing thicker clothes today, the intimidating vest stocked with ammo glued to his chest. You'd gotten used to his more casual wardrobe of gym shorts and hoodies. They make him look... softer, almost. A little less like a death omen. Though, you sincerely doubt there are any soft parts of Ghost left under all that gear, given the rigid planes you felt beneath your hands when you—

"There."

You snap your gaze in the direction Ghost is pointing at.

At first, you don't see anything.

Then, squinting, you make out a red color far too metallic to naturally sprout among the conifers. 

An arrow is urgently slotted on the bowstring as the two of you head towards it, your brows tightly knitted. You've been this way a few times and never saw a— is that a red car?— before. Closing in, your suspicions are confirmed when a stroke of sunlight bounces off the metal bumper. The patchy sedan is tucked within a bush, tail-end sticking out, with half-flat tires resting on corroded rims. Shadows of movement dance behind the tinted windows, too disjointed to be natural.

"What the fuck?" you mutter under your breath, boots scuffing over a long-faded gravel pathway that is now shrouded in weeds. The car must've been following it before winding up in the bush— the occupants no longer human enough to drive.

"They... they must have just turned while they were driving," you think aloud. "When did this even get here?"

"Maybe during the night," Ghost mutters.

He paces forward and swings open the passenger door. A string of moans is released as a Grey lurches within the confinements of the seatbelt, but he quickly silences it with a bullet to the forehead, causing it to flop sideways out of the car. Maybe just a day ago, it was a young man. His hair is fully intact and he's wearing a blue shirt with the Chelsea Football Club logo on the back.

"I wonder why they were driving this way to begin with," you say quietly, stomach rolling.

In the driver's seat is the slumped-over corpse of an older man, having died from so many bite wounds before the infection could take hold. The early stages of decomposition smell almost worse than the infection and you have to breathe through your mouth as you head for the back door. 

"There's another here I think."

You're ready to shoot and put whoever it once was out of their misery when you pry open the door, but the sight of a small body wriggling around makes you freeze. Curled up against the faded leather is an infected boy, no older than eight or nine. His eyes are all white except for the outer rim where a few vessels are still filled with red blood. Your fingertips dig fiercely into the frame of the door as you stare down at him; his soft brown hair, his small hands, his Minecraft shirt. He whimpers and tries to claw at you, mouth hung open in mindless hunger.

The feeling that washes over you is hot and cold at the same time. It's not the first or last time you've seen an infected child, so you don't know why the sight traps you for a few heartbeats.

A voice emerges beside you. "It's not a kid anymore."

You almost forgot Ghost was there. Your teeth clench. "Yeah, I know."

You feel his eyes burning into you. Your fingers tighten and untighten around the arrow's stem as you aim. 

"Hone it, Twix— the anger."

The tension in your jaw releases at the same time as your arrow snaps forward, cutting through the boy's skull and driving his limp body down to the car floor.

“You good?”

You forcefully swallow and look away, giving Ghost a short nod. "Guess that's all of them."

He slowly nods in agreement, studying you, but all he says is, "For now."

“Don’t you think it’s strange?”

“Seen stranger things over the years,” he says. “It seems like they were headed somewhere, maybe needed a new place to settle, and one of them got bit. Infected the others.”

You nod, thinking it over. “What about the car?"

"No fuel left, so it's pretty useless." Rifle still in his grip, he moves around to the hood and props it open. "Might have some parts I can use, though."

While he scavenges for gears that aren't rusted beyond functionality, you take a look at their belongings. There is an empty bottle of whiskey in the cupholder. In the boy's lap is a stuffed tiger that you assume was once white, but now it's a worn of grey. You carefully shift his corpse and take it.

"I have a friend who might be able to care of this for you."

In the trunk, at least, you find some tripwire. 

Dragging the two adult bodies back to the trench for burning is your 'strength' training for the day. Since they haven't decomposed much yet, they're heavy; you go back and forth, taking one at a time. Ghost carries the small one over his shoulder. After the flames snuff out the smell of rot, he relieves you, claiming he has other shit to take care of—more traps to set with the newfound tripwire.

"Hey. Would you like this?" you ask Blue when she's up, handing her the tiger. 

"I'm kinda too old for dolls, Twix." She must see the expression on your face because she shakes her head and disappears into her room for a minute before coming out with a teddy bear. "My mom gave me this one when I was a baby and it just sits on my bed by itself, but now it can have a friend."

You smile and nod. "Yeah, okay."

The day is spent playing board games with her. When she notices how sore you are, she offers an exclusive massage from Grim, who hops over your back and legs as you relax face-down on the couch. However, even with the honorary treatment, the aching lingers. 

"Auntie, I'm over here!"

In a violet-tinted field, you search for the voice.

It's barren and hazy, with no hard edges or places for a little boy to hide; so why is it so hard to find him? You call his name. You wander around, aimless, until you catch a familiar whiff of baked cinnamon and fresh laundry. This way. He's this way. You start running fervently. When a small hand tugs at yours, you whip around and try to grab him, but the soft touch dissolves through your fingers like ash. 

When you wake up, there's a hand on your back and blood on your tongue, evidence that you'd bitten through it during your sleep. The taste is quickly replaced with bile as you launch up, grabbing the sleeve of someone's shirt.

"Oh no, you don't."

The hand moves to your hair, wrapping it around in a fistful before forcing your head to tilt down. A bucket is tucked beneath your chin. You vomit into it, the cool metal rim hissing against your fingertips. Again and again. When it's all out, your throat feels like sandpaper. 

"Done?"

The dark room surrounds you; the perfect place to hide what you know must be a ghastly look on your face. Awareness creeps in, and you're not thrilled by the fact that you've thrown up in front of him twice now. Without looking up at the white skull you know is there, you nod.

Wordlessly, he takes out a cigarette and lighter. You hear a deep inhale. See the dull glow of the flame. Then, he passes it to you and leaves.

"You look like shit today."

You can't even be offended, fully aware of the purple painted beneath your eyes. One look at you quirks his brow up in that annoying mannerism of his.

You offer a tight-lipped simper, mumbling. "At least I can always count on you for brutal honesty."

"Good trait to look for in an ally." He throws the gauze at you and you begin wrapping up. "I don't suppose it has anything to do with the fact you nearly ruined another shirt of mine last night."

You tie off the gauze and glance up. "Look, I'm s—" you stop yourself, "I mean, I'm not sorry, because you wanted my box open so now it's open. You already knew the potential consequences."

"Try opening it without emptying your stomach next time."

You flash him a look. "I think I miss when you pretended I didn't exist."

"And I miss getting a full night of sleep."

"Can we just get started? I'm ready."

Ghost keeps his eyes on you as he motions a fisted hand. "As you wish."

When the familiar dance begins, and adrenaline ripples up your spine, you realize that you missed this yesterday. The rest felt good, but this— the thrill of seeing Ghost start to get as worked up as you, the sweat stains on his shirt matching your own... it is something you itch for these days. 

You get a few hits in that have your ego swelling. But then— the rough night catches up with you after half an hour of wordless sparring. Your breathing grows labored, while his is barely winded.

"Tired yet?" he asks.

"No," you say, but he calls you out immediately.

"You're a terrible liar," he reminds you. A few more swings have your lungs burning as you dodge until one finally catches up with you, and whatever healing your homemade salve has done is erased by a fresh layer of pain. 

As you clutch your side, he changes the subject. "Are you going to tell me what it was about then?"

"What what was about?"

"Whatever was making you whimper in your sleep."

Your face twists. "I wasn't 'whimpering'."

"Fine, then. Crying," he corrects plainly.

You sigh through your nose, averting your gaze only for a moment, then focusing back on him before he can strike you again. His words hang in the air, ignored, as you jab an elbow toward his ribs. He grabs you by the knob of it and pulls you unnecessarily close to his chest. When you try to wriggle free by placing a hand on his chest, he fists your hair, which has slipped out of a bun into a haphazard ponytail, and tugs hard enough to force your eyes up to his.

His gaze is demanding but his voice is light— a mere breath over your forehead. "Tell me why someone who has seen plenty of infected kids by now seemed so bothered by the one she saw yesterday. He reminded you of someone, didn't he?"

The mention of it makes you snap. "Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Trying to act like you know anything about me."

"I know enough. You are easy to read."

So that feeling you get when he looks at you isn't just in your head; he truly can see through. Your nails dig into your palm. "There's no need to read me. We're not friends. We're just... allies, or whatever."

"Or whatever," he repeats thoughtfully, tasting the words. "You talk like a teenager."

"Compared to you I might as well be," you retort.

"Jesus." He chuffs out an exhale, eyes flickering down for a moment before returning up to yours, narrowing. "Let's not change the subject here." 

"Fine. Take this stupid Halloween mask off," you lift the hand on his chest up to the hem of his balaclava, feeling how weighted the fabric is with sweat. "And I will tell you all about it."

His jaw flexes before he gently guides your hand away. "Tempting offer, but I'll pass."

You refuse to acknowledge the tinge of embarrassment at his dismissal and inch back as far as the hand on your hair will allow. The close proximity, or harsh sun, is making it hard to breathe. "Well, it's not fair for you to ask me shit about my life when you don't even let me see your face."

"I never claimed to be fair." 

"I promise I won't vomit no matter how ugly you are. I've seen worse things out here."

His hand tightens. "I think I miss when you were scared of me. Less mouthy back then."

"Well, I'm not anymore."

"No?" He flips you around so your back is against him, one hand settling on the toned curve of your hip. His voice lowers to your ear. "Maybe I need to fix that."

An unwelcomed shiver courses through you. He lets go. A wristbone nudges against your spine, shoving you forward. Irritation simmers in your veins when his remark finally registers, and you whirl around, readying your stance. 

"If you even think about threatening me after I explicitly asked you not to, then I would suggest sleeping with a knife tonight."

"Who's threatening who, Twix?" He gives a low chuckle. "Relax. I'm sure I could handle you in my sleep, anyway."

He's egging you on; you know it. And yet, you stubbornly take the bait. His knee— the right one. That's where you got him last time that made him falter. Maybe an old injury. But when you swing a boot at it, he expects your attempt, knocking you away by the ankle. 

"Ah. Eager to get me beneath you again?"

Pink sears your cheeks as you wipe a trickle of sweat from your forehead. "I'm eager to humble you for once."

"Might need to keep your dinner down to do that."

You grit your teeth. So maybe he did allow it last time. The realization darts your eyes to his wide stance, searching for an idea. Without second-guessing yourself, you kick at the other knee. He must find your second attempt amusing because he easily predicts it, but before he can catch your leg, you snap it back and drop yourself to the ground.

The brief distraction allows the second of time needed to fit yourself between his legs. You're slim enough to push through, kicking at the inside of both knees once you're on the other side. His legs buckle, and you reach up to pull his arm, finishing the job.

Once he's down, you scramble to get on top, not caring if your boot kicks his face in the process. You grab both of his wrists and bring them above his head, but it's impossible to wrap your fingers all the way around them. Instead, you lace them through his fingers, breathing hard in his face as your breasts meld against the solid heat of him.

"Did you allow that?" 

His voice is rougher than you've ever heard it. "No."

Your lips furl. "Good."

A dark gleam passes through his dilated pupils that makes your head fuzzy. You let go of his hands. Immediately, they gravitate to your hips again, thumbs fiercely pressing into the sliver of skin exposed from where your shirt rides up. You don't move even an inch, frozen in place as you stare down at where he grips you against him. That feeling in your gut deepens and spreads. It is hard to pinpoint—so insane and foreign yet familiar at the same time—but one thing is certain: it begins and ends where his rough skin touches yours.

Before you can figure anything else out, a scream shatters the air, and Ghost rips you off of him in one swift movement. 

[defectedrockstar]

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss AU

Opening this up for discussion and ideas. Since the RWBY one got so much attraction, why not see what another AU that is so musically inclined like Hi-Fi Rush?

Hence, Hazbin Hotel and Helluva Boss. Though it might be more learning towards Hazbin, at least with what I can think of. It's a simple concept and I only got Chai in it, so feel free to send questions about this crossover after the read more.

What if Chai’s surgery mishap did more than just give him cool music robot powers? What if he had died and woke up in hell? Now Chai needs to figure out this new life of his while also trying not to get killed by either cannibals, murders, and of course angels.

His appearance has changed. His clothing is darker, with the star on his shirt shattered, black jacket, hist left eye having a lightning bolt scar over it, and his eyes went from a brown color to a amber one. His skin is the same, if not paler. When he goes berserk, his skin goes yellow with black lightning patterns coursing through his body, his horns sprouting out and forming around his head like a crown, and sporting demonic wings. In terms of powers, it is the same as canon except with the added demonic traits.

[fushipurro]

Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy

Chapter 5 - Journey's End...?

<- Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, cowboy!au, suggestive in satoru and sukuna's part, implied murder, mentions of pregnancy/childbirth in toji’s, gangs, brief mention of gunplay in satoru’s part, description of gore and cannibalism in satoru’s and sukuna’s

☆ Word Count: 7k

As heartwarming as it was reuniting Kento with Clementine, the same could be said for your own reunion.

On your first night in Blackwater, Kento treated you to dinner at one of the classiest restaurants in town. There, he had eagerly listened to the events that followed his departure ─ from Valentine’s rescue to the massacre of an entire game. With you, he quickly learned that there is no end to the surprises in store.

Your life is one out of a story ─ an odyssey, and you chose him to enjoy the ride with.

You stayed with him in his hotel room for some time, savoring the mix of fine dining and high-stakes gambling located conveniently downstairs. During the day, Kento would be away at work, leaving you to bide your time. But once the sun sets, you two take the town by storm, whether that meant with cards, chips, or a dual in the streets. On some nights, or many, your fun was kept to the sheets instead, clinging to each other’s form.

Occasionally, the two of you would ride horseback instead of train, making memories through evening gallops in the prairie, or taking scenic trails to wherever his work needed him to be. He excelled at his job, simply because he knew how best to help others ─ it’s what he’s good at. But at a certain point, he began realizing where his priorities needed to be, and what he wanted in life more than anything.

That’s how you ended up with a ring on your finger, because Kento wanted you.

After a night of poker where the stakes were especially high, Kento came out with a large sum of money. It was enough to push him into finally quitting his job, and using those funds to purchase a farmhouse along that same prairie stretch you often rode across. Between banking and farming, the answer was clear, as farming allowed him to continue with doing what he’s good at, while also being closer to home and subsequently you.

The property needed a barn which was no sooner constructed after moving in. Acres of fencing seemed to sprout up overnight, all for whatever animals you two would go on to have, and a dozen more for the joint business you created for yourselves.

Kento spends most of his days out in those fields, tending to his ever-growing abundance of crops. You on the other hand have taken to the barn, working day and night to care for your animals, as well as your newfound business in horse training. Some days, when the cattle need to be moved, you two pack a picnic to enjoy out with the wildflowers as the herd circles around you. Those days are your favorite, since they’re all spent with him. Just the two of you, in your own stretch of the world, enjoying every little thing.

Life on the farm has been simple, quiet, and everything you’ve needed to sit back and enjoy the feeling of being alive without any need to rush. If you wish to stay as you are now, Kento would have no complaints; but if you ever choose to grow your family, then the space is there, and with an incredible husband-to-be at your side to walk down that path with you.

Like most evenings after a day of hard labor, the two of you currently are resting on a swinging bench that hangs from your front porch, all while admiring the picturesque view of your property and the prairie beyond. Kento has a book in one hand, the other idly drawing shapes into your shoulder as you rest your head over his lap. Your eyes are closed, savoring the gentle breeze in your hair, and the distant sound of your many animals.

“Darling?” Kento says to get your attention. You hum, a quiet request for him to continue. “What do you think about having our wedding ceremony in the summer?” he asks.

“We could get married right now if I’m being honest, but why summer?”

In truth, you know exactly the reason he’s making this request, but where’s the fun if you don’t tease him first?

You hear him close the book he’s reading before setting it down, replacing it with some homemade sun tea. As you turn your head slightly, you have the perfect view of the liquid disappearing, and the bobbing of adam’s apple with every sip, glistening with the evening light. That golden glow seems all his own, yet pales in comparison to that of his hair, eyes, and every freckle dotting his face.

“Weather, firstly,” he starts, clearing his throat after putting the glass back down on the table. “The rainy season will be here before we know it, and if we wait too long, I fear that with the harvest, we won’t have much time on our hands.”

That’s not all, you think to yourself. There’s one more detail he hasn’t explicitly stated yet, but one you know he wants to bring up. The wedding is big of a day to him as it is for you, only he’s willing to put aside his own feelings for your happiness. Not on your watch.

“And what’s stopping us from walking out into the yard and saying our vows now? Aren’t you excited to marry me, or is there something else?”The effects of your teasing are evident from the deep shade of red that comes over his face.

“I couldn’t be happier marrying the love of my life,” he refutes, sending color to your own cheeks when his honeyed eyes fall to yours along with that sweet smile of his. “I was however thinking of having it along the oceanside, but if you’re against that or waiting, I’ll gladly put my suit on now.”

And you know he would.

He even makes a move to get up from his spot, showing his determination to please you, to marry you. But you quickly stop him, forcing your weight down to keep him still.”

“I’m only teasin’, Kento,” you chuckle, fixing yourself back on his lap. “I know how much you love the beach, so I think it’s perfect. Consider the date set.”

“Thank you,” he breathes, happy you’re agreeing to his request. What’s waiting until summer, anyways? The way things are now, you may as well be Mr. and Mrs. Nanami.

A sudden movement arises from the corner of your eye, enticing you to follow.

“Kento, look!” You hush shout at your fiancé, shooting up from his lap and pointing out into the prairie. “Bison!”

“Beautiful,” he whispers, his voice low and husky. You turn to him all excited, finding that his eyes are instead resting on you. “Isn’t that right, my darling wife?” He smiles.

Kento gently pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to keep you secure at his side. Your faces near, eyes brimming with desire.

“It sure is… husband.” You smile back, and let your lips meet in the middle. The thunderous sound of the herd echoes in the distance, pairing with the whinnies of your mares calling out to the world.

This life is beautiful, and all you could ever want, but only when you’re sharing it with him.

Back in Valentine, Satoru was eager as could be to see you again. His excitement evident by the silver star he brandished you with before you could so much as dismount properly from your mare.

With every quality you’ve shown thus far, he was more than ready to start chipping away at the bounty board with a reliable partner back at his side, until he learned of your recent escapade. That cocky sheriff exterior faded into a delicate side you never knew he had. As it turns out, he’s fiercely loyal and protective towards those he cares about ─ which also explains why after all these years he remains on good terms with Suguru.

You had to hold him back from marching into Tall Trees himself to get revenge for you, with or without any lawmen at his side to help. His eyes, so bright and full of life never looked as dark as they did at the sight of your bullet hole injury, but you managed to calm him and reassure that you and the Outlaw Killer had already done the unthinkable.

His emotions went from anger to dumbfounded, with hints of remembrance in his stare ─ something you later learned was due to Toji’s deep involvement with his life as the catalyst for the destruction of Limpany and Suguru’s fall from grace.

During your recovery, you also learned that Satoru comes from money. His family being one of the biggest in the oil game and railroading, and yet here he is, protecting the peace from a lower level. That money is still his to claim, and his to use to pay for anything you need in this time and in the future, whenever, and whatever the cost may be.

Shoko became one of your closest friends, going from the doctor next door to someone you trust to have your back no matter what happens in life. She’s often stepped in to pry Satoru away from his doting duties to ensure you’re able to get a proper rest in. In a way, he’s like a lap dog, begging for any attention you’ll spare. Attention you always so happily gave.

You didn’t need any of the fancy meals or the shopping sprees across town. All you ever needed was right here at your side, with or without a wallet in hand. The two of you loved riding along the Dakota River, shooting glass bottles in the woods, or curling up in each other’s embrace whenever you could.

Although rare, some days and nights were shared with Suguru again, under the falsehood of collecting the bounty on his head, only to get some head in return. The weapons involved in these reunions weren’t for violence, but instead acts of love, all for the thrill of it. And speaking of familiar faces… it didn’t take long before you noticed Sukuna’s ceasing to pop up.

His presence in Valentine became that of a mystery, his name merely a rumor now, designed to scare children back to their beds and drunkards out of the street. The butcher now running his stall is someone by the name of Uraume, who never fails to show their disdain in passing.

You didn’t have much time to think on his disappearance before a spree of killings stole your attention. Each crime scene the two of you visited told the same gruesome tale through the bodies strung up and their organs splayed out, keeping them bound to rocks or trees. And every time, their blood was smeared into a cryptic message ─ one you knew came from him.

By the time Satoru ordered the move on Sukuna’s forest home, the devastation was clear from a distance. The cabin you once shared an incredible night with now a pile of ash and rubble along the forest floor. Though for better or worse, his cellar workshop remained nearly intact.

Whatever the case, it seemed his time of hunting in Valentine had reached an end, or so you thought. New rumors had begun sprouting up from the heart of Saint Denis, rumors of some bloodsucking “vampire” who matches Sukuna’s description seen devouring the hearts of his victims.

As someone branding a silver star, you knew what would have to be done should you ever cross paths with him again, although that moment may come sooner than you think.

The morning light flickers between the curtains, casting its rays over your form, sitting buried beneath Satoru’s. Your hand finds its way to his hair, combing through the white strands with your nails. This action stirs him awake, a breathy sigh escaping his lips.

“Good morning, princess,” he starts with a yawn, his eyes fluttering open, revealing a gaze so gentle ─ so loving ─ that you can almost forget the turmoil running rampant in your mind. But as he blinks away the sleep from his eyes, he catches on to how it eluded you through the night. “You look terrible,” he quips. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t sleep.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes to try and throw off the inevitable conversation to be had. “Wow,” you drawl the word with a teasing touch. “You really know how to make a girl feel pretty.”

“You know what I mean,” Satoru chides, visibly pouting at your remark. He then lifts himself onto his elbows, pushing further up the bed until his lips can meet just under your eyes. “Did I not tell you enough last night how pretty you are?” he teases with a sly grin, though behind those crystalline eyes lie a deeper concern.

“Oh no, you did. I believe I remember you saying, ‘nothing compares to your beauty; you’re a goddess among humanity and no portrait could ever hope to paint you with everything I see and love about you.’”

“And I’m right, aren’t I?” Satoru chuckles, rolling off to your side. He reaches out, pulling you against his body. His arm, a shield from the world ─ his protection infinite. “So why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”

With a sigh, you let your eyes close, remembering all the things that have kept you up in the midnight hours, or rather, the people. Through everything, you’ve never felt as afraid as you are in this moment.

“I don’t know if I can do it, Satoru,” you tell him without any clarity on the ‘it’ in question, simply because he already knows what troubles you so. How could he not know?

Nevertheless, you continue, “I know what he’s doing is the work of a devil, but…”

“He’s still someone you liked,” Satoru finishes for you, the thought hurting more now that it’s out in the open.

You nod your head weakly, feeling a kiss against your temple ─ an affirmation.

“I get it,” he says, his thumb now smoothing over your skin. “I think it would be best if you stayed here, in Valentine.”

Astounded, you roll partway to face him, ready to open your mouth in protest before his words stop you in your tracks.

“Now I know I said before you’d be coming with, but this isn’t your burden to bear. Even if you wear the star now, your feelings still come first.”

“Satoru, I can’t let you go alone,” you claim, brows pinching in anguish.

“I won’t be alone,” he refutes. “I’ll have the other deputies and lawmen at my side, including the joint force in Saint Denis. I would feel better knowing you were here watching over everything, maybe throwing on that dress I got you for when I come back…?” At that, he pushes his nose into your neck, hands reaching up below the hem of your nightwear to tickle your sides.

With how often he calls his princess, Satoru simply had to dish out the funds needed for a dress straight out of a fairy tale novel.  He picked one adorned with colors resembling his eyes and some of your favorites. Jewels and an intricate hem from top to open. A dress he wants to see you in when you walk down the aisle and into his arms.

“You’ll be safe, right?” Your lowered voice another sign of your anxious state. “I better not hear about you getting reckless and hurt.”

Satoru laughs, a sweet sound the contrasts the way he holds you just a little bit tighter.

“Who do you think I am? I’m the sheriff after all,” he tells you, his words as confident as he was the day you met him. “Besides, we both know Shoko would have my ass in the dirt if I came home with another big injury after that last time.”

As the morning sun looms higher through the curtain, it becomes a bitter reminder of the dwindling time left together before he leaves on his biggest job to date.

“I love you, Satoru.” You take his hand, placing it close to your heart, hoping he feels how it beats only for him. “Come back to me and I’ll have on any dress you throw at my feet, ring or no ring.”

“You know I will, princess.” He kisses the crown of your head. “I’ll make sure you have the biggest dress, and the most expensive ring money can buy.” Another kiss, one filled with absolution. “And I love you too, forever and always.”

Following the map Suguru had given you, you were able to find his camp with ease, and were welcomed with open arms.

Well, from a few of them, at least.

Some of Suguru’s closest confidants were weary of you at first, and for good reason. They first recognized you as the Valentine showstopper who fired back without mercy in the midst of their robbery and grand theft equine. And here you are now, strolling into the heart of their camp with Suguru’s arm draped around you. Just who do you think you are?

They made their lack of trust apparent, never bothering to hush their voices when openly complaining. The worst of which came from a scrawny fella named Mahito, as he was always vying for Suguru’s attention and praise. Not to mention the other woman, Manami, who would stick to your outlaw like she was his own holster. A bunch of fools, you’d call them. Fools who in time will be akin to that of your own flesh and blood.

Regardless of it all, you knew where you stood. Something Suguru reminded you of whenever he could. After a few train robberies and drunken brawls, you went from being the stray that wandered in to Suguru’s girl.

To some others however… you were a mother.

Nanako and Mimiko ─ the children Suguru had rescued from that atrocious cell in Limpany the day his star dimmed to a void. They were incredibly shy with you at first, always hiding behind Suguru or cramming themselves in the back of his tent. He was their safety net, their savior, and most importantly ─ their father, blood or not.

You cried the first time those twins called you their mother; the memory of that day quickly became one of your favorites to date.

The camp itself never stayed in one spot for too long, and at times it felt as though you had traveled the world before settling in one place before carrying on with the next big heist. Your newfound notoriety began drawing attention across the frontier, specifically from the Outlaw Killer himself.

Toji always had a way of popping up when you least expected. “Hunting your bounty” he’d say, each time pretending he was just there for the cash, and yet, you always managed to get away without a scratch on you. Sometimes, you’d leave a richer woman than you were that morning ─ lady luck simply never on his side for monetary value.

Satoru was another familiar face, one more welcome than others. You’re more than aware how he and Suguru mail letters to each other from time to time, and sometimes you wonder if Suguru purposely guides him close for a reunion under the stars.

Those same stars that watch over and guide your travels are the same set looking down upon your camp now. The surrounding swamps come alive at night with a cacophony of crickets chirping and toads croaking, all meshing with the vibrant atmosphere after a robbery done well, earlier in the day. While Dagon prepares the feast, Mahito sings an out of tune monstrosity of a song for Jogo and Hanami, and all the rest to dance around the bonfire flame, hand in hand.

A sudden touch to your shoulder disturbs your peace; your beating heart calming when you realize it was merely Suguru having now returned from the house.

“That was fast, the girls went down that easy?” You scoot to make some room for him to sit, but your effort proves pointless when he pulls you by the hip against his side.

He kisses your cheek a few times, holding your head in place with one hand. “That easy,” he replies with another kiss to your lips. “I think they’re finally settling in enough to sleep. I didn’t even have to check under the beds for any ghosts and monsters,” he tells you, and you sigh with relief.

“Good, I was worried after all the shit today.”

Ever since the move to Shady Belle, it’s been tougher than any swamp gator to get those two to sleep an entire night on their own. The twins are strong after all they’ve been through, but the dark remains as one of their greatest fears. At some point in the night, they always end up squished between you both in your spacious bed.

“I think this calls for a celebration, don’t you?” he says, and from that smirk ─ one as sly as any fox ─ you know he’s referring to something that goes beyond the surrounding atmosphere.

Suguru pulls up by your hand, swinging you flush to his body, his other hand now resting gently against your waist. He begins to sway you to the beat of the song ─ one that’s no longer out of tune or a mockery of Mahito’s own guitar.

“Suguru, what’s this abou–“

He cuts you off with tender kiss. “Relax, just enjoy yourself,” he says. “We have a special night ahead of us, now let’s give them a show.” He smiles eagerly.

The rest of the gang cheers and sings along. Pairs coming together, some trios even, all circling the bonfire in song under the full moon sky. You dance your heart out with Suguru, his eyes never leaving you once. If they could speak a thousand words from his stare alone, they would each be of you, and all that his heart wishes to say.

At one point, the song slows into a calming tune, causing everyone to back away with all eyes set on the two of you at the heart of it all. You glance around the group first before looking to Suguru out of confusion. He returns your look with that same sly grin from earlier before falling to one knee.

“Suguru?” Your lips part slightly as he reaches into his pocket, the shock and anticipation of what you know is coming sets a stampede of thoughts off in your mind.

He says your name as he reveals his ornate offering ─ a ring, bound in the metal perfect for you with a diamond at its center. That precious stone is joined by two amethysts on either side, their hue nearly identical to his own two eyes.

“From the day I met you, I knew you were something special,” he continues.

A diamond in the rough, he’d go on to say ─ that, and a thousand other words on how you’ve been a guiding light to him in a world so full of darkness.

“Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife, from now until these very stars watching over us can shine no longer more?”

And you only have one answer.

“I would love you as your wife beyond that time and the end of time itself,” you tell him, feeling a tear fall from your eye as your smile grows wide with joy. “I will gladly marry you, Suguru Geto.” The determination evident in your speech.

He takes your hand, sliding the ring onto your finger. The fitting is perfect, just as the two of you are together, leaving no room for doubt. Suguru stands, bringing your hand up to his lips, kissing that very ring before sealing his vow against your lips as you do all the same to his.

“I love you,” he says, breathlessly, and with a look of love like no other. And as the gang cheers for you both, you know in your heart that you made the right choice and found your treasure.

Your return to Sukuna ignited many emotions, some more volatile, and others ─ true to his nature.

He welcomed you back with open arms, practically calling you to his side. There was praise with how you stuck to your word and came back to him, praise that evolved through that sensual reembrace into actions meant to… punish you for the marks left by another. The marks left by Toji.

Sukuna didn’t really care about them, or the fact that there was another. Why would he, when you came back to him, and all he has to do is bury them beneath his own, time and time again to remind you of that.

But then came the marks left by someone else, designed for absolution and oh, how that brought out a whole new side you hadn’t seen before.

He had a fire in his eyes, black flames that seemed to circle and smolder an intense red when he demanded the names of whoever shot that bullet into you. You were his now, and that means whoever lays an uninvited finger on you is his to do as he sees fit, and oh, the ideas he had in store.

You managed to quell the storm after telling him how it all went down. From hunting the coward down through the hills, to ending his life with your own two hands. Sukuna’s wrath took on a new form ─ pride ─ at your abilities in battle. How enchanting you are with blood soaked on your hands.

He still couldn’t help but pout over the missed opportunity of a new soul to torture, something you soon learned was a hobby beyond what most would consider as one.

Although he was careful to hide his tracks, it wasn’t difficult to figure out, not when every time some lowlife would make a pass at you with sinful intentions, they’d end up missing a short while after.

…Did you approve it? Maybe, if you’re being honest with yourself.

You can’t deny that the world isn’t a better place without all those creeps. Perhaps with all the time you’ve shared with Sukuna thus far, a part of him has rubbed off and embedded itself into your soul. Such is the nature of depravity.

During the day you would help him out around town, be it with livestock or adding to his stall with game from outside the city. You each had your own hunting grounds, with yours being the forests or down by the Dakota River, and for Sukuna? Well, he preferred his food close to home, food that was always ripe for the picking.

That went about as well as expected, taking into account the Valentine sheriff whose curiosity remained fixated on you. And while Sukuna isn’t a jealous man by any means, he made his disdain for the man evident, keeping his fangs forthright. After one passionate ─ possessive ─ night of romance, Sukuna told you as you rested in his grip that it was time to move on.

You hated to have to leave the cabin behind, especially when for the two of you, it was home. But as you watched the remains turn to ash before your eyes, the structure engulfed in a mighty, somehow divine flame, you remembered that so long as you have Sukuna, you have a home with him.

The journey itself was long, with many stops along the way before eventually reaching a spot high in the desert plateau, far from anyone to disturb either of you. Along the way however, among the many oppositions were a gang intent on seeking revenge. Whether it was for your killings or his, that much remains a mystery, but the outcome resulted in the right side of Sukuna’s face becoming marred by Molotov flames. Their bodies made for an excellent display along a grand oak tree, the final piece of art created in his name for some time.

The night sky never looked more beautiful than in the desert while leaning back against Sukuna’s frame, your forms carefully illuminated by the campfire glow beneath a sea of stars.

“Aww, don’t tell me you’re cold?” His voice mocks, paired with a suggestive move from his hand settled the curve of your hip. “If you wanted me to warm you up, all you had to do was ask,” he purrs, pulling you tighter against his core.

You exhale an amused sound at his offering, angling your head back to meet his gaze. “Was earlier not enough for you?” you tease back with that same flirtatious undertone that has his fingers digging just a little bit deeper ─ more possessive.

The reason you’re shivering to begin with is become of him. Your clothes have long since been discarded along the flooring of your home, and the arousal between your thighs, still glistening with the rest of your bare flesh.

“Is that a question?” He chuckles darkly before claiming your lips roughly and with a renewed flame. His free hand curls around your neck, preventing any chance of you turning away to avoid his touch.

Sukuna breaks the kiss, but his forehead remains pressed against yours. His eyes half-lidded with lust and a multitude of emotions he doesn’t dare claim to feel, but you know.

“You know better than anyone I could keep going until the sun rises,” he says confidently, and for good reason too. It’s one of the many things you’ve come to love about him.

The sex is good ─ perfect even, but his word, and the promises he makes are everything and more. When he claimed you as his, that wasn’t just for show, and he’s always eager to remind you of such and every little thing you do to him.

Sukuna may never say those three little words like you have to him, but that’s okay because his actions have always made up for it. Normal has never been your thing, so why stop now?

Your eyes move to his scar ─ the point in case that shows where his priorities have been since the beginning. He was the one who stepped in front of you, shielding you from the harm that permanently scarred his features.You bring your hand up to cradle his face, brushing your thumb against the rough texture. His left eye narrows at your action but doesn’t leave the hold he has with yours. With only one working eye… for him to see the world, he first has to see you.

“It’s ugly, isn’t it?” he says, not as a question or a plea for some sympathy, but rather to state the obvious. Personally, he has no problem with it, as with any scar on his body. Others are deterred, some viewing him like any other outlaw when he goes into town, but never have you looked at him with anything but adoration after that first night together many moons ago.

“Not at all.” You shake your head, a soft smile gracing your features. “I’ve always thought it made you look more rugged or badass.”

He smirks, nudging your face with his nose before another ─ more gentle ─ kiss to your lips.

“Careful, dove” he murmurs a faux warning before taking your hand into his, guiding you from his face to his chest, and further down to his stiffened length. “Look what your words have done to me ─ what you do to me.”

Sukuna lets out a hiss of relief when your fingers wrap perfectly around him, applying just the right amount of pressure to all the right places.

“Feels like you’ve got a pretty big problem here,” you chuckle, shifting your body around to better face his. “Need me to fix it for you?”

In one deft motion, Sukuna lifts you onto his lap, his hands finding placement along the curve of your hips. “I would hope so, seeing as you’re the cause. It’ll give you something to do to warm up.” He pats your side a few times. “Now let’s see how far your riding’s come along, shall we?”

After accepting his offer, your life with Toji exceeded every expectation you had placed in the beginning.

From bounties to bar fights, duals and a shit ton of gambling, your life became all about living in the moment, seeing to whatever whim you had in mind for where the day could take you. “Wherever the money is, we go,” Toji always said ─ up until you realized both you and Valentine had become pregnant.

It was a surprise to say the least, but what’s more shocking is that it didn’t happen sooner given Toji’s apparent breeding kink when it came to you. Whatever the case, the news couldn’t have come at a more perfect time.

Your travels brought you into the valley, not far from Lake Owanjila, in a field rich with lavender and all the familiar sage from your childhood home. These flowers serve as a reminder of where you came from, but the rest, it’s all of your own making.

For a while you two slept out of a tent. That is ─ until the local wolves became a tad too curious, often straying too close for anyone’s comfort. That, and the one day you came back from hunting to find a bear napping overtop your then-broken tent. Needless to say, Toji got to work on using those muscles of his not for show, but to build you a cabin, all from the ground up.

He worked tirelessly during the course of your pregnancy, often leaving you to stay behind in a hotel in the city of Strawberry. As for Valentine, you boarded her at a local stable to better monitor her pregnancy without any risk of predators interfering.

It was hard going days sometimes without any word from Toji, and not having Valentine with you left you feeling quite lonely under stars you equally shared. At the very least, it made your reunions a time to celebrate, with a night of making sweet love together again.

On the day he came to collect you, your heart raced ─ faster that any thoroughbred ─ with excitement and joy. The many months of effort and separation were finally paying off. And then your water broke mere moments later, delaying that journey to your new home by another few days. Neither of you minded, not when you were both too busy welcoming both Tsumiki and Megumi into the world ─ your beloved pair of twins.

You got married not long after that.

If having children didn’t seal the deal, the vibrant, emerald ring on your finger and the cabin built just for you certainly did. Pronghorn Ranch, you two named your stretch of the valley. You even had the ceremony right there on the property with a child in each of your arms, and a few close others to bear witness to matrimony.

Shockingly, Valentine ended up giving birth to a pair of twins as well. Turns out, all those gambling losses Toji’s accumulated made up for being gifted in other departments, his trusty steed included, considering the rarity of twin foals that manage to survive their youth.

After the death of your parents, you never imagined getting to experience family like that ever again, and how happy you are to share this again with Toji at your side. For someone as unpredictable and crazy as any bucking bronco ─ he’s shown you that anything’s possible, and he’d do anything to make your dreams a reality.

Your life went from that same unpredictability and camping under the stars to enjoying that same night sky from the view of your porch with the ones you love with all your heart and more.

“There you are, Ma,” Toji greets, hugging you from behind. He pulls you closer by your waist, kissing you along the side of your neck. Your giggling only serves to entice him further, but with Megumi in your arms, he knows he can’t get too carried away. “Been lookin’ for you, what are you doing out here with Megs?”

It’s become your daily tradition to go on walks around the property with Megumi. Compared to his sister right now, he holds a lot more energy. Seeing all the animals around the ranch has become his favorite activity. And right now, he’s found you up close and personal with Valentine and her foals.

“’Gumi here”–You pinch his chubby little cheeks–“wanted to see the babies up close.” You turn your head, smiling at Toji for a second before your eyes wander. “Where’s Tsumi’?” you ask.

“She’s fine,” he says, pointing back to the porch with a thumb over his shoulder. “Let her with her toys so I could come see you.”

You’re surprised he managed to get away without any tears. Tsumiki has a way of getting what she wants when it comes to Toji, and how could he ever say no to either of his kids?

“Well, you’re just in time to watch Megumi ride a horse for the first time.”

Toji about chokes on his own spit when he hears that.

“Ma, are you sure that’s a good idea?” he questions, his tone full of worry. “He’s two, what if he gets hurt?”

“He’ll be fine, Valentine wouldn’t dare do anything to hurt him,” you refute, and Toji knows it’s meaningless to argue, but the thought of anything happening is one of the few things in this world that genuinely scares him. This family of yours matters just as much to Toji as it does for you, if not more than you can imagine given his own upbringing in a shitty cult of a family.

What a story that was the night he first told it.

“Besides, it’s about time he saddles up,” you add.

“Is he even going to remember this?” Toji stresses, biting his lip as you place Megumi on the mare’s back. He finds himself unconsciously stepping closer.

“Maybe, maybe not, who knows?” You place a hand on Toji’s arm to reassure him, keeping your other one around your son’s. “This is something my father did for me, and someday one of these foals will be his to ride on, and Tsumiki the other.”

You wonder if Megumi will take up the soon-to-be black colt like his father, or the chestnut filly. With their baby coats having almost finished shedding, their true colors are finally revealing. It’s one of the many joys of watching foals grow up, and a gamble in itself at what coat colors two parents could pass on.

Toji still isn’t convinced, but at the sight of your bright smile, and Megumi’s joyful babbles, he finds himself grinning with amusement ─ something you don’t miss.

“Go get Tsumiki so she can have a turn!” You tell him, patting his bicep eagerly. His smile no sooner disappears, replaced with that of a stern father’s gaze.

“Absolutely not. She can wait another few years to try.”

And by few, he means a decade or more, depending on his mood.

“That’s not fair, her brother is already riding.” You plead to him, pouting all the while, but this is where arguing becomes impossible for you.

With Megumi, he’s Toji’s son through and through. He believes Megumi to be a miniature version of himself and will prove that in time as he gets older. Tsumiki however, she’s a princess in his eyes, and you swear you’ve seen him tear up over her getting the smallest of cuts.

Overall, he’s the best father you could’ve asked for with your children, and an even more loving husband to yourself. You look forward to growing old with him at your side, and with your children living their best lives like you are now.

“If you don’t come up to the house, your dinner’s gonna get cold,” he says at the sound of your stomach rumbling.

You gasp, “Why didn’t you say that earlier? I’m starving!”

Toji lifts Megumi, holding him in one arm, with his other all for you. “Because someone didn’t hear me callin’ for them,” he scolds. “Now come on, sweetheart. I made your favorite.”

You wrap yourself around his arm, leaning into him on the way back up to your home. “I love you, Toji,” you tell him fondly, eyes staring into his equal weight to your words.

“I love you too, Ma.”

Life couldn’t possibly get better than this, not when you’ve already found everything you could’ve possibly wanted in it.

Fate has many things in store for you, even if you weren’t previously aware how knotted into its red fibers you are.

Instead of choosing one, or any of the men ─ you continued on with life as you originally planned before stopping in Valentine. Rather than settle for anything domestic, you opted to continue your journey across the frontier, sleeping under a blanket of stars, and meeting a whole new realm of people along the way.

You spent some time with Choso and Yuki for starters, hunting bounties together or raving in the nearest saloon. Both you and the couple shared many experiences, somehow always finding each other despite parting in separate directions each time without fail.

There were other faces and names that also crossed your path ─ some good, some bad. You might have even considered a life with them if you were ready to aside your reins. At the end of the day, your best company was found with Valentine, your beloved mare to have seen it all and come out on top, regardless of the circumstances.

All in all, the life you were building was entirely of your own making, and to you, that was the way to live. “Pick a direction and trot on,” became one such motto of life, through deserts and mountains. Every step brought a brand-new experience, and that experience was everything you unknowingly needed in order to be prepared.

It was a day like any other, or so it had seemed. The sky was clouded over, on the brink of tearing forth with the full wrath of nature. The only thing is… the calamity that came forth didn’t come from the heavens ─ no.

It came from down below, in what could only be described as hell, and the catalyst that sent you back to the city you strayed from in your journey of life.

How else were you to survive the apocalypse once the trumpets sounded, and the undead came to life.

☆ Notes: sorry this took 3 months almost lol

I won’t go off with any heartfelt messages just yet, but I am incredibly grateful to everyone that’s stuck around this far, and I hope you like how I did this “ending” :)

Honestly, when I first started this series, I was going to make Toji the endgame, but then thought that would piss off anyone who came here for the other men, so I came up with multiple routes instead. It may not be everyone’s preference, but I thought it to be fair and it lets me go off with more headcanons separate from smut.

In light of that though, I hope you guys look forward to the bonus chapter I’ve kept a surprise until now ^^ aka, the secret polyamory ending.

Lastly, linked below are some of my favorite cowboy artworks of the jjk men, some of which helped inspired parts of this series <3

NANAMI 1 & 2 | SATORU | SUGURU | SUKUNA | TOJI | CHOSO

[respiratory-kristem]

…

My name's Kristopher Hoffmann. I'm 19 and… I think that’s enough.

He/They

A chat…? It’d be appreciated but I’m not that interesting…

red - xoran is speaking

text - Fused

purple - possessed

Ability: death of the guilty - the ability to sprout black tendrils in battle. When idle they take the form of wings and when the ability is deactivated they disappear

extra stuffy stuff under the cut !!

MOD - @aredeemantagonist

TW, BLOG FEATURES THEMES OF MURDER, ABUSE, CANNIBALISM, SUICIDE, S€LF H@RM, ETC ETC. IT WILL NOT ALWAYS BE TAGGED, PROCEED WITH CAUTION

CURRENT STATUS -

Unfused

Currently: ALIVE, WITH THE ARMED DETECTIVE AGENCY

these are mostly what i had in mind for his design ^^ i’ll get a concept sheet out soon!

HEADCANONS AND FICS SHIT!! Angst Facts!! Cosplay dump!! Arc list!! KRIS INFORMATION!!!! GO LOOK AT THIS NOW!!!! AU MASTERLIST!!!!!!

[pocketwei]

hii do you perhaps have any dofuwani fics recommendation. I've checked out the the ao3 but I really don't seem to like anything there after scrolling thru the most kudos'd works... I feel like you (and a few other artists) get them and I wanted to read things in a similar tone as your art and so far I'm in the trenches bleeding out. like obviously no offense to any of the writers it's just that all the like modern highschool loving dad croc and etc aus are not for me... OTL I hope I'm not sounding rude and thank you for your time!

oh anon come rest your head upon my bosom.... I got you anon..... as a fellow slave to canon-compliance I, too, know the pain of sifting through pages upon pages of AUs, not that there's anything wrong with them but I just can't imagine these sickos working a 9 to 5 in a suit...... thank you for thinking my vision of dofuwani is trust-worthy, this is vain on my part but it genuinely means a lot <3 OK rant over here are the goods, in no particular order (always mind the tags but I figure if you asked me for dfwn sacred texts you're probably a fellow sicko):

that was now and this is then. by ghostwit (M): one of my favourite ever, perhaps even my favourite. About a long relationship, about twisting each other inside the skin, about being formative to each other in ways so deep and intertwined that they can't seem to tear one apart from the other. And despite it all* (*the murders and the hatred and the irreconciliable flaws and differences of their Ego (philosophical) and the unbearable, unacceptable vulnerability of understanding), they are, somehow, unforgivably and incomprehensibly, in love. *smashes head against pavement, it cracks open like an egg, spilling millions of dofuwani thoughts everywhere

no better irony by ghostwit (E): shichibukai meeting sidequest...... excellent characterisation like everything Haze writes (it's just The Best dofuwani there is..... read everything he wrote please). I'm so fond of them in that fic in a way that's like. watching stick bugs in a terrarium. You don't understand them and they don't understand you but you're just happy they're having fun. You wouldn't join in for anything in the world though.

like i need a gaping headwound by ghostwit (M): loguetown era dfwn, Haze back at it with formative years and the fresh sprouts of insanity in these two. So so so good.

nothing in this world that's quite prescribable by ghostwit (T): the opening of this fic is perhaps one of my favourite scenes ever. Vulnerability and odd transparence that only drunken disinhibition allows. Which is rare for these two. Absolutely adore this one.

honestly you can and should read everything Haze has written for these two they're just so AUGHHHHHH

black & bloody & rotten & perfect by revolvermonkcelot (M): perfect capture of the fine line between (????love, perhaps) and insanity they walk on. Absolutely fucking insane about this one, the reverence and sacrality of their whole thing, the Indulgence:tm: and permission that can be revoked (for Crocodile is mercurial in his vulnerability), but that is somehow maintained in a delicate and incomprehensible equilibrium. + absolutely incredible undertones of wani (trans)identity crisis, the imperceptible yet meaningful and constant change of the Form... Head in hands

Just a taste by marimoes (M): perfect perfect perfect characterisation, little gestures that betray familiarity. Perfect on all accounts

Swallow by revolvermonkcelot (M): my roman empire. Absolutely perfect Wani characterisation, it's The Wani for me. Exploits perfectly the essential dfwn dichotomy of "one entity tumbling down and the other rising up, meeting halfway through in the eye of the storm, in a singular moment". Classy cannibalism that ties to the no-less essential concept of consumption, to be/become whole again. The reason why they somehow stick together is because of this primordial longing for something, for understanding perhaps, for beauty sometimes, for belonging. Fcuking hell I love them so mucj

A Bird and His Cage by doctornemesis (E): read this one a long time ago but it's in my bookmarks so I trust past me's judgment and tell you it's amazing

From Dressrosa with Love by Sibilans (E, on-going): incredible atmosphere, perfectly depicts the post-golden age rotting glamour of Dressrosa. They are particularly unhinged in this one.

i wanna hurt you just to hear you screaming my name by stealth-black-leg (Kiir_Bee) (E): I'm running out of steam for long meaningful comments but this one has top tier characterisation.

That's it!! Don't forget to comment and leave kudos to give writers the love they deserve <3

[missr3n3]

Augusnippets Day 29

singing/first words/inside jokes

fandom: cabin tales (on a holy night AU) TW: starvation, mentioned cannibalism word count: 239 @augusnippets

With each day that followed Ida and Arthur returning to their real home, Ida questioned if she really did the right thing.

They arrived at the old, near ghostly town with little more than the clothes on their backs. The house was just as ramshackle as it had been when they left, the crops just as dead. Even worse, what few fellow townspeople remained after the dead con artist's rousing speech had little sympathy for cannibalistic traitors.

Ida had a starving son, crap soil, and no help.

Her only hope was what she saw on the journey home.

Life will find a way.

Ida was staring at her dwindling supply of cans when a familiar tug on her sleeve derailed her train of thought – still weak, yet stronger than it had been in months.

“Yes, honey?” Ida sighed. Her eyes went wide as she looked at her son. Her smiling son.

He practically dragged Ida to the back yard, moving surprisingly quick for someone who was barely more than skin and bones.

His excitement made perfect sense once Ida looked over what had once been their garden.

New sprouts had not only poked out of the dirt they grabbed from the forest, but thrived. Many had full leaves, others had stocks quickly filling out. Ida's jaw almost dropped at the sight.

It really dropped when a quiet, raspy, sorely missed voice whispered beside her.

“They're growing,” Arthur said.

[severalratstiedtogether]

THIS DUMBASS thinks he SUCCEEDED IN WHAT HE SET OUT TO DO!

he is incorrect!

[asherscoffin]

[This is @cloak-and-dagg3r I just have to use my main blog]

Feel free to ramble on about Misha whoever you’d like but one question I have in particular is if he ever meets any companions after going into hiding or what kinda happens after that??

He’s a very interesting guy I do have to say

Thanks for the ask, Ash!! (Hehe we have the same name)

Despite having been working on Misha's story/character for about 5 years i have yet to get deep enough to start writing in other characters and companions for Misha- A lot of my inspiration comes from my friends and creating aus with them...so even though he doesn't have any companions in his main story, i have like, a billion aus where he does have a companion! Most of them are romantic, i really enjoy shipping ocs together lol. It's pretty fun and there's lots of chemistry that we can experiment with! It could be tragic, passionate and sweet, or something of dark desires... >:)

I do have some favorite aus though!

The Lockwood Farm AU, after Misha settles into hiding in Texas, he meets a man named Lupin who owns a family farm that appears to act as a rehabilitation center. When secretly, it's a cannibalistic cult that is tied to a dark, demonic power that controls it from deep within. Lupin draws Misha in and convinces him to join, which wasn't difficult given Misha isn't a stranger to cannibalism and is generally mentally dark, already classified insane. He was all around deeply willing. An unstable, passionate, and obsessive type of love sprouts between Misha and Lupin. They are a bloodlusty force to be reckoned with. Misha would come to join activities of the cult. Hunting "sheep" within the night while running alongside "wolves", and then feasting upon said sheep in a celebratory dinner. These sheep being victims, and the wolves being members of the cult. He can feel a new electrifying energy coursing through him, he's now more dangerous than before.

( @oddogoblino is the other side of the brain for this au, Lupin also belongs to him! The entire Lockwood Family Farm concept belongs to him! Our stories simply came together ^^)

Yet to be named AU(it's very new), Misha, after going into hiding is eventually found by the Russian Mafia and is captured. They plan on torturing him and killing him much like they did his father. He is beaten and tortured relentlessly yet never ceases to laugh in the face of death with bloodstained teeth. Hysterical laughter despite being broken, bloodied and bound. He peaks the interest of one of the many members of the mafia, Kolya. A gentleman with a hatred for Misha, but something about his bloodied smile and manic laughter makes his heart pound. Not only with anger, but with a warm excitement. Misha tended to tease Kolya sexually, coaxing out repressed homosexual feelings that he was ashamed of. Misha had expected to piss Kolya off before he was inevitably killed, but the results were unexpected, but worth settling for... Kolya had fallen in love with this madman he was meant to kill, and between them they aspired an escape. Kolya and Misha had formed a bond, and thus Kolya faked Misha's death and placed him back into hiding, with him. Inserting a poison in Misha that he could, at any time, set off if Misha chose to betray him and escape.

( Kolya belongs to my friend @whimster! It was very fun writing this au together and honestly i'm thinking about making it canon to Misha's story! :D So if you're curious about what happens after he goes into hiding, this may be it! I also want to eventually do a segment where he is institutionalized but gets broken out... )

Tysm again for the ask, i had fun replying and info dumping about some aus and Misha's relationships,,,,

[luxcherry]

##˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ NO TURNING BACK | STAGE ONE

˗ˏˋ pairing; zombie apocalypse survivor! vinnie hacker x mixed! white american-korean! zombie apocalypse survivor! fem reader ´ˎ˗    

╰┈➤ IN WHICH, the incurable virus took less than 24 hours to tear humanity apart. it was ruthless, it was nothing but destruction. now, your only choice is to head towards a place called eden’s project. a safe community with people, supplies and electricity. on your way there, you come across another survivor named vinnie hacker. your walls of sceptic were up regardless you asked him to join you, after all, there are men in numbers, especially in a crucial time when the only thing in people’s minds is survival and betrayal and death are the only way.

ღ AUTHOR’S NOTE; this has to be the longest fic i have written. but i enjoyed every bit of it now, i will be writing up the request someone asked, hopefully, it will be much shorter than this because it is a simple request. but knowing me, i’ll probably go way above and beyond.

ღ CONTENTS; strangers to lovers, zombie apocalypse au, fluff, gore, angst, swearing, violence, slight suggestive content, graphic depiction of death, wounds, mention of cancer, sexual assault, use of weapons (guns, knife etc), blood, cannibalism, mentions of death and any others that i may have missed.

ღ WORD COUNT;  16 pages, 8.4k

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

THE SUN was setting on the golden horizon quicker than ever, the rotting pungent stench was unchanging and it was something everyone has gotten used to it at this point. Well - that’s if there is anyone out there alive at this point. Fresh air was a privilege. Yet there was something, eerily peaceful about how the world has been slowly taken over by the evergrowing lush greenery. It was like nature was finally taking over what was rightfully theirs.

Vinnie had no time to take in the wonderful fauna and fairy book-like city. Once the night dust settles, it’ll get even more dangerous. The living dead gets more active and they’re like killing machine. It doesn’t help the fact that he accidentally ended up in the forest at a desperate time like this.

❝Fuck.❞ He swears under his breath, panic surging and becoming more evident as he pants heavily, chest getting heavy. There were no houses coming into sight or any type of shelter. He needed something. An abandoned car would do it just as long as it is in a safe enclosed space.

Vinnie has travelled for months, he doesn’t know. How did he end up in this situation? He and his buddy, Jack escaped California when the virus was at its peak, fleeting to Oregon to head to his family up in Seattle. The virus was unstoppable, however, it just got worse and worse. Till Oregon was also hit with the virus at its peak. Vinnie and Jack were separated, Jack was nowhere to be found which left Vinnie in a slump. Lost. He was on the verge of breaking down.

But, he can’t give up now. No, now that he got this far. He’ll reunite with his family and his friend along the way.

He emerges from the dense forest, where he spots a small cabin, it looks like it was barely holding up. Wood was rotting and weathered, lime green slippery moss was sprouting on the roof, the windows were completely boarded up and a lone bench by the front porch. This would do. It looks secure enough, why complain about that?

❝Thank fucking Jesus.❞ Vinnie mutters out of reassurance. 

He makes his way to the cabin, occasionally pushing away the overgrown foliage out his path, squelching mud under his boots. When he gets to the front porch, the creaks of the floorboards was heard as he shifts from foot to foot, he takes a deep breath in and reaches for the doorknob.

❝Hello?❞ Vinnie calls out before knocking on the door. There was no response, he pushed the light rickety wooden door open. He entered, the light thumping of his boots and the weak floorboards underneath him made a light creak.

He gets a proper good look inside; there was a dining table in the middle of the room with a small lamp, a small bed in the corner, and a small window at the foot of it. Floating bookshelf with grey dust piling. A small night table with a rustic lamp on top of it, and on the right was a stone fireplace with some pots and pans hanging above it. Cabinet. A door that was leading to what he believes was a bathroom. A small kitchen on the other side of the cabin. With that, it was empty and no supplies were left behind. 

Figures.

Before he could step any further into the cabin, the door shut closed behind him, and a cold end barrel of a double barrel shotgun poked him from the back of his head. His heart banged against his ribcage and he could hear it loud and clear. The hairs on the back of his head were standing straight out. That’s it. He’s going to die right here, right now.

He began to pray for the heavens above. This was the way he goes and leaves the Earth. Please, somehow, someway, let his family know he loves them dearly.

❝Put your hands up in the air.❞ A voice commanded which Vinnie didn’t hesitate to obey, ❝Who are you?❞

❝I swear, I’m just here for shelter. The living dead get more active at night, I’m just here for the night. I promise you that.❞

The shotgun was pulled away, and there was slight relief that came from Vinnie’s perspective 

❝Turn around and make sure that your hands are still up.❞

Vinnie carefully and grudgingly turns to face, you, someone who was roughly the same age as him with a permanent glare and frown on her face, still threateningly pointing the shotgun at him. He gulps audibly, his mouth becoming dry as he mentally prepares an onslaught of begging to spare his life and he wasn’t here to harm you in any way. He will be leaving this place in an instant and he’ll go far, far away.

❝Do you have weapons on you and in your bag?❞

❝No!❞

You pressed the nozzle flat on his forehead,

❝I SWEAR! I REALLY DON’T, I’M JUST HERE FOR SAFETY! I CAN LEAVE!❞

You lowered your gun down, looking him up and down, before slinging it over your shoulder. Vinnie hesitantly lowered his hands back to his side. His adrenaline was hurling all over his body from what he believed was that last he could be a living, breathing human.

❝You’re here for shelter?❞

❝I really am. I swear. I’m not trying to do anything.❞

You look at him suspiciously.

❝Take out any weapons, you have and throw them on the floor.❞

❝I don’t have any.❞ Vinnie responds calmly. Well, at least try to appear calm.

You jab your finger at his chest,

❝Try anything, I won’t hesitate to throw you out and leave you out there to be eaten.❞

You warned him sternly, sidestepping him and bumping him purposely, he could hear the treading of your footstep. It was almost silent. No wonder, you went completely unnoticed. His ear picked up the clicking, a soft orangey light emitting from the small lamp placed starting from the middle of the dining table, the light swarmed nicely in the small cabin. He finally got to see your face.

The lustre radiating nicely contrasted your face. Shadows created from the curves of your nose, splattered with an occasional blemish here and there, light pinkish lips coming to a slight pout slightly chapped and sharp, serious eyes. You still had the intense look on your face.

Regardless, holy fuck. You’re so fucking gorgeous.

❝I-uh...❞ He didn’t know how to react. Why was he so awkward?

You jerk your head towards the chair on the opposite side of the table, Vinnie awkwardly shuffled to the other end, he slipped off his backpack, setting it down on the floor just by his feet. He watches you move and hover on the counters, setting some bowls then popping open a can. You turned back around where you held two bowls in each of your hands,

❝Here.❞ Sliding him a cold bowl of tomato baked beans with the metal spoon already in it.

❝Beans?❞

You place your own bowl on the table, pull out your own chair take a seat then slip off the gun around your torso and prop it up right next to you.

❝What? You got time to be picky at this time?❞ You raised your eyebrows at this, reaching out for his own bowl and dragging it away from him, ❝Go find yourself some food that you’ll be willing to eat then.❞

Vinnie abruptly stopped you by the wrists.

❝No, no. Beans are perfect.❞

Vinnie’s first impression of you; was rigid, serious and extremely paranoid. Not that he blamed you for being the way you are, he doesn’t know you nor does he know your story. You’ve probably gone through a lot of things in this accumulated treacherous, savage and vicious environment. It makes sense. Hell, even the little noise, he hears, had him leaping and he was ready to fight or just sprint.

❝Do you have water with you?❞ You spoke up. Staring straight into the beans and stirring the spoon around.

❝Yeah, I do-❞

You cut him off right away.

❝Good. Supplies are scarce, right now. I don’t have enough with me to share with you.❞

There was the silence that settled once again, Vinnie didn’t like it, but he didn’t know how to continue the conversation further. He desperately wanted it to. This was the first ever person he made contact with ever since he got separated from his best buddy. Think, Vinnie, think!

A sudden loud bang came from the window followed by an inhumane groan and high-pitched shrieking. It went up an octave and lowered back down, it was almost like someone had poured hot molten lava all over him on a continuous loop. It kept banging and banging, wanting to get into the cabin, every strike gets louder and louder with the seconds that passed. At any given moment, Vinnie swore, it might just break in.

Calmly, you stood, the chair scraping against the floor, walking up to the window then drawing the curtains together. One by one, you drew all the curtains around the cabin, then you come back to the table, reaching to crank the lamp down. Ultimately dimming the lights down. The whole cabin was almost pitch black despite that he could still make out your silhouette.

❝You’re pretty calm for a person with a living dead banging on the window.❞ Vinnie points to your lack of uneasiness, shoving a spoonful of beans into his mouth, struggling to swallow it. Barely passing his throat. It was terrible. Inedible. As you said though, why be picky at this time?

❝Used to it.❞ You plop back down to your seat, ❝I barricaded the windows as soon as I got here. You just do the rest of the work, don’t do anything to attract them. They’re moths to a flame, a little amount of light and too much noise will make them swarm.❞

❝How long have you been here?❞

He notes that you haven't taken a bite of your food.

❝Just arrived this morning.❞ 

❝Why pick out this place? It’s… Kind of falling apart.❞ He carefully chose his words conscientiously. Hey, you may never know, what if you were a crazy person who gets offended and just shoots him? 

❝I’m not planning to stay here long term. As you said, they get more active at night. I would be caught dead being outside this time.❞

Once again, the silence hovered, it's like you were intentionally shutting him down and building a large wall that he would not climb over.

The banging continues to persist. Though, now, it seems like there were more than one living dead deciding that their next meal is inside the cabin.

❝Fucking shit.❞ You cursed, stomping over to the windows, ripping the curtains open and peeking through the small crack of wooden planks that barricaded the windows.

❝You've got to be fucking with my shit.❞ You whisper harshly then turning your attention back to Vinnie who looks at you confused, ❝Hey!❞

❝Grab that baseball bat by the bed!❞ You ordered.

❝We're clearing them off. There's like fifteen of them outside, if we don't, more are going to gather. Next thing you know, a horde of them!❞

You pocket a knife and pick up the axe by the fireplace.

❝We're not going to be the only ones having a nice dinner tonight! So, get your ass up, now!❞

Vinnie did as you were told.

❝Why can’t you use your gun?!❞

He panics,

❝Are you stupid?! Are you deaf?! Or are you both?! I just told you! These things are like moths to a flame, any noise or light will attract them! So, slap yourself in the face and be prepared to kill them off!❞

You swung the door open, and with the right amount of momentum; you swung the axe at the first living dead by your door. The sharp part digging right into its skull, there was a crack that resonated with a mixture of shrieks and groans. It was something that Vinnie had never heard before; he figured that it might be the sound of its skull splitting in the middle.

He followed closely behind you, he swung directly at its jaw, its head spun and permanently faced sideways. He didn’t hesitate to swing once again aggressively, this time its head popped off flying somewhere. A rotting hand slapped right on his shoulder, his adrenaline was pumping throughout his body, he reached for it and ripped it away from him followed by another swing of the bat right at its torso.

This went on for hours or in Vinnie’s perspective, all night, what it felt like all night. It felt endless. He swore that they just kept coming, you were right if you didn’t clear them out as you said. It isn’t going to be a pretty sight. It makes him sick to his stomach to even think of that possibility.

You slid down to the floor in exhaustion, the axe clanging beside you completely caked in blood and brain matter. Vinnie shuts the door behind him firmly and plops a seat beside you, tossing the baseball as rolls across the floor, he has his legs stretched out. His jeans were either soaked in blood or mud, he didn’t know. At this point, he could care less. He was on the verge of passing you. If he slumps over at the bed for sure, sleep would sweep him away.

❝There’s a bathroom over there.❞ You point at the door, it was the same one that he suspected was a bathroom, ❝You have guts all over your clothes.❞

❝I could say the same about you.❞

❝Well, you look exhausted, I’m staying up for lookout tonight. You can go to bed.❞

Vinnie groans getting up to his feet, why pass up the offer not being a lookout and missing out on the sweet, sweet ecstasy that is called sleep?

❝Sounds great. Then, the next thing I’m in the afterlife.❞

You snort,

❝Please, if that were the case, you wouldn’t be talking right now. You would have been some midnight snack for the living dead, right now.❞

Vinnie nods his head and shrugs.

❝Fair point.❞

He didn’t know how he got in bed or when he fell asleep. The next thing you know, he found himself cocooned up in his sleeping bag in the one sole bed in the cabin, it was morning time, he could tell, with the bright light peeking from the small cracks of the boarded window. You were nowhere to be found yet he could see your things are still here; like your backpack. It felt nice having to sleep without the worry of being eaten alive, for the first time in months, he got a good night's sleep. He felt refreshed and all the exhaustion that he’s been carrying was lifted off his shoulders.

Vinnie swung his legs off the bed and sat there for a while staring off into space unsure of what to do. The door slams open, revealing yourself who held a chicken by its feet, droplets of blood dripping on the floor. You slipped off the gun and propped it against the table then walked over to the kitchen area and slammed the dead animal on the counter making Vinne jerk out of his skin.

❝It seems like you had a great sleep.❞ You turn to face him raising your eyebrows questioningly, ❝You’re not going to complain about having chicken for breakfast, are you?❞

❝No, no. Chicken sounds great.❞ More than great. It’s fucking phenomenal.

❝I’m not making a meal that will make you feel horrible and sick. I found some rice in the cabinet and picked up a couple of spices. I’m making some congee. It’s rice porridge if you’re wondering.❞

He didn’t know what you were doing but shit you were working some magic. It smelled divine. The aroma was God-sent. Vinnie could feel his mouth water immediately. Time passed by in a quick flash, the next thing you know, you were placing the bowls on the table. Maybe it was hunger that was making Vinnie hallucinate? 

He didn’t wait for you to call him to the table, he was already moving on his own, and his stomach was twisting and growling from hunger.

The first bite he took, he was lost, in a good way.

❝How is it? It’s not much but it's a great Asian staple.❞ It was much better than canned beans. It was like Vinnie was experiencing a five-course meal at a Michelin restaurant, fuck, a freshly home-cooked meal from the stove was something he didn’t realise he missed dearly. He could shed a tear right now. 

This was, simply put it, heavenly. It might not be much but it’s much better than some reheated crap that you opened from a can.

❝What do you think?❞ Vinnie says as he scarfs down the contents of the bowl, savouring the simple and homely flavours.

❝You can have the whole house to yourself. I’m leaving as soon as I’m done eating breakfast.❞ You shove a spoonful into your mouth.

❝You’re leaving? Already?❞

❝Yes, I need to head to Minnesota and I’m not looking back.❞ You say determinedly,

❝But, Minnesota is so far away! It will take you years to get there!❞ Vinnie says in disbelief.

❝Not really, if I travel like this consistently, I’ll get there in a couple of months. I travelled quite far in just roughly 4 months from state to state.❞

Vinnie shook his head in disbelief

❝Oregon to Minnesota… Damn.❞

You look up. Eyebrows furrowed together,

❝Oregon? What are you talking about?❞ Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, ❝You do realise, you’re in Wyoming, right?❞

❝Hold on, hold on, hold on. In where?❞ Vinnie looked like you had shattered his whole world in a matter of seconds, he dropped the spoon into the bowl, making a loud clinking sound.

❝In Wyoming?❞ You repeat.

❝Fuck...❞ He swears under his breath burying his face in shame, ❝How do you know we’re in Wyoming?❞

He wanted for you to be wrong so bad, there is no way, he was heading North towards Seattle the last time he checked.

❝Um…❞ You reach for your pocket and took out a tiny folded piece of paper and wave it around, ❝Been following a map to get there.❞

❝I swear… I was heading North and kept going, I guess not… Wyoming…❞ He was defeated at this point. Vinnie was swallowing the wallows of shame.

❝Well, even if this isn’t the place where you intended to go, you’re still heading the right way.❞

❝What do you mean?❞ Vinnie peeks through the gaps in his fingers,

❝Well… Considering, Eden’s Project is located somewhere in Canada, any other state bordering it is completely shut off, and the pick-up point is in Minnesota. So, if you’re looking for a safe settlement, that is where the open border is.❞

He was even more confused.

❝What? Eden’s Project? Canada? What are you talking about?❞

This time you’re the one who dropped the spoon.

❝Holy… Fuck…❞ Jaws to the floor, ❝Have you been aimlessly wandering from state to state and not knowing where you are, the settlement and the pickup point?❞

You list off the faults that he had made.

❝How long have you been travelling?❞

❝Weeks? Months? I don’t even fucking anymore! All I know is that I was separated from my friend after driving out of California after the shitshow that went down! I should be in Oregon not fucking Wyoming! If it wasn’t for another breakout there!❞

You sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose, the headache you were gaining from this conversation was astounding. You felt terrible for the guy honestly. You don’t know what his agenda is for wanting to head up North, you don’t want to ask nor do you plan to. If his friend wasn’t as terrible at direction as he was, he most likely ended up in the settlement already, that's if the border hadn't closed up in Seattle. He was completely lost and on the verge, if not, already on a mental breakdown. 

You’re aware that he’s a complete stranger. He could do anything that would cost you, your life. Ironic. But, despite that very serious concern of yours, you couldn’t get rid of that humanity that was lacking in this world at this time.

❝Do you want to travel with me to Minnesota? Your friend, I assume, will most likely be in Canada if he headed North unlike you.❞

❝Oh yeah, I so, would want to travel with someone who pointed a shotgun at me last night! Where I could have died! That’s a wonderful idea!❞ Vinnie exclaims sarcastically accompanied by dramatic hand gestures.

You purse your lips together. Well, he made up his mind, you are already packed and are ready to go.

❝Suit yourself. Nice to meet you and good luck.❞ You shrug. Standing up, the chair making a loud scraping noise, you pluck up your gun and slip on your backpack already by the door. Walking out the door, shutting it behind you, leaving him completely by the table, shocked. Unable to speak.

❝Wai- No.❞ Vinnie hurries to gather his own things before bolting out the door. You were already a good distance away from the cabin, so focus on the map already planning your route. He sprints failing to shrug on the straps, once he finally catches up to your side, panting.

He asked,

❝I’m only joking, you know that, right?❞

❝Nope. If you don’t want to tag along, fine by me. Feel free to have the cabin.❞

❝I’m coming with you!❞ He declares.

❝Cool. Keep up then. We have to hurry up and find a safe place to be, we’re missing precious daylight.❞

❝The cabin was okay. Why can’t we stay there longer? Until we find a car or something.❞

You shook your head.

❝Too risky. As you said, a cabin barely holding up, if we go out looking for a car, we’ll just call the attention of the wrong people. They’ll see supplies and people settled in there, and we’ll be in trouble.❞ You fold up the map, stuffing it in your back pocket, ❝We’re no longer the civilised, law-abiding people. We’re like wild animals now who will do anything to survive.❞

You look at him,

❝And where do you plan to find a car in the middle of a forest?❞

Good point.

❝I guess. We’ll just get whatever we come across then.❞

You stopped walking. Leaves stopped crunching as Vinnie followed suit.

❝What?❞

❝I don't know your name.❞ You stuck your hand out for a handshake, ❝Just cause, we're in these circumstances, doesn't mean we shouldn’t have the courtesy.❞

❝My name is (First name).❞ You finally introduced yourself,

He grasped your hand and shook it firmly.

❝Vincent. But, I much prefer being called Vinnie.❞ 

You nod in acknowledgement. You were the first one to pull away.

❝So,❞ He starts off, as you begin walking, ❝Do you know why they chose Minnesota out of all places? I mean, there are so many states bordering Canada. Why just one?❞

❝Well, from what I've been told. It's about control. There should only be one entrance and exit, if you choose to live somewhere else, it would be too chaotic and unorganised if everywhere else is opened.❞ You explained.

 ❝Make sense.❞

People are desperate at this point to get somewhere safe. It'd be difficult if they kept letting people in constantly.

❝It’ll be dangerous getting there. So, do you have a weapon?❞

❝No. I already told you.❞ Vinnie was quick to deny it.

❝I know you're lying to me. You'd be stupid walking around without one.❞

❝Then, why did you believe me when I said 'no' back in the cabin?❞

❝A desperate lying man would rather live and be safe than be out there eaten alive.❞ You paused then turned to face him, ❝Show me.❞

You demanded,

Vinnie jumps at the tone of your voice, he begins patting down his pockets, pulling out a small screwdriver. Presenting it out so proudly like he was at a show and tell presentation back in elementary school once again.

❝That’s it?❞ You raised your eyebrows at him. Crossing your arms together, adjusting your stance and smiling at him amusingly. Shifting your eyes to somewhere else, avoiding eye contact and pressing your lips together trying to hold your laughter in. He definitely is lost.

❝Well, with everything going to shit, what am I supposed to do?!❞ Vinnie flails his arm around in a panic, ❝I have to make do of what I can get!❞

❝Having an additional weapon like a baseball bat and a knife would be a better option instead of just having just a screwdriver. Grabbing that baseball you used last night could have been a good idea, Vincent.❞

❝Don’t call me by my Government name, that’s terrifying.❞

You snort.

❝Have you ever shot a gun before?❞

 ❝I-I’ve, you know, I could-❞ Vinnie attempts to stutter a lie. You are a pretty girl with a lot of badass knowledge, you’ve been travelling and surviving for, God knows how long. He wanted to impress you too. Make himself appear as that gun-slinging man to make up for to clueless behaviour he displayed.

He coughs to clear his throat,

❝Yes.❞ Vinnie simply stated.

❝Good. Let’s find you a gun and pick up some supplies.❞ You pat his shoulder before threading on, ❝Oh, and Vincent?❞

❝Yeah?❞

❝Just so you know, I don’t like beans either. Try not to pick up too much of that shit.❞

The views are breathtaking with every turn, it was all you saw, as you battled the great lengths of the mountains and hills. Its beauty within it and watercolour washed pastel blue sky. There was something unnatural yet natural about everything, though, quietness and stillness were something that came with it yet you could feel the tension. Perhaps, the unnerving thought of humanity crumbling under its feet was always stuck at the back of your mind, where you no longer appreciate it. On the other, your companion looked as carefree as the roaming free birds that soared across the sky.

He looked at everything with curiosity. Wonder. Without care, worry or thought of the world’s current state. You don’t get it. You don’t think you’ll ever get it. You will forever be as rigid as a rock. Hard. Unmoving.

❝This view is sick.❞ Vinnie says breathlessly.

❝I guess.❞

❝Come on, relax, a little. Enjoy this place a little bit.❞

You sigh,

❝We can’t. We have to keep trekking to where we need to get to.❞

❝Fine.❞ Vinnie almost whines like a child, ❝You have to agree though, this view is spectacular!❞

You said nothing. Ignored him. Kept walking down the small hill. Vinnie took a deep breath in and followed you closely, it will take time for you to open up, he sees that. But, he’s sure, you’ll open up like a beautiful blossoming soft-petalled flower on the first day of spring.

It had been hours; there was nothing but just endless forests, and the chance of finding shelter tonight was turning from slim to none. Honestly, it was making you anxious. The tightness, felt like there was a sack filled with sand placed on top of your chest. You were losing sensation in both of your arms like there were millions of ants crawling on them.

Vinnie picked up on your usual fidgeting. He tried striking up a conversation to keep your mind off it but came to no avail, all of it was met by one-word answers consisting of ‘yes’, ‘no’ or something along the lines of ‘quit messing around, we have to keep moving’. It was getting dark out.

❝We could camp out here.❞ He suggests,

❝We could. If it weren’t for that building over there.❞

You point to the little lone building; you began sprinting, almost tripping even and Vinnie followed closely. You didn’t care you were being whipped in the face by the branches outstretched.

❝Hey! Slow down!❞ Vinnie calls out as ducked and evaded, well, he tried to, but he got a face full of lashing from the low-lying tree branches. Muttering a low mumble of ‘ow’ under his breath as he tried to keep up with you.

It was a fairly small lone building in the middle of nowhere with the American flag hanging vertically on the front building, lashing against the violent blow of the wind, the entrance was sealed off by metal shutters. The side of the brick building was rammed by a dark blue matte car, a huge hole was where the car has crashed into. The vehicle stood no chance as anyone might expect, with some bits of the building completely shattering the front window.  It was crushed like a Coke can. There were no doors on it already, you could make out a figure slumped on the steering wheel. 

You could tell, they have been gone for a long time. The smell even from where you stood.

❝Holy fuck…❞ Vinnie was at a loss for words as you slowly come to approach the car, the recognizable stench was not something ignored, it was even worse when you get close. An unforgettable sight. Even being surrounded by death all the time, you’ll never get used to it.

❝Be careful. There might still be danger lurking around.❞ You warn.

❝Yeah…❞ He looks away and follows you to the front, you reached for the crowbar strapped to the side of your backpack crouching and shimmying between the floor and the metal shutters, giving a good push down prying a small space open. Vinnie hooked his hands from under the shutters, lifting them up to his knees, so you could crawl under them, you held the shutter in the same fashion as Vinnie, and a loud groan passed your lips. He quickly crawled in.

You let the shutters go, emitting a loud rattle.

❝Well, if the living dead heard that, at least we’re safe.❞

❝Yeah…❞ You look alleviated, the anxiety was washed off you, ❝Gather anything useful. I’ll grab you a gun or anything that be used as a weapon.❞

He nods as you disappear to the back of the building.

It was a run-down house slash store combination, it was completely trashed and things were strewn about, some furniture was turned overturned, and shattered windows were not completely boarded up. Nothing really major to note. It was a little too dark for his liking but that’s about it. Vinnie explored the room, plucking anything that can be useful and setting some canned food aside. A water bottle here and there, where it wasn’t even in a subpar condition. Bright green moss growing in there.

You emerge holding a shotgun.

❝Hey. I found a gun, this is going to be much better off than the screwdriver but keep it with you still.❞ You hold it out for him to take, ❝Here.❞

❝I-❞ Vinnie was hesitant to take it from your hand,

❝Do you want to die?❞

He didn’t hesitate to take it. You are looking at him up and down,

❝You’ve never shot a gun before, haven’t you?❞

❝I have-❞

You interrupt him,

❝Don’t lie to me. It’s better you’re honest with me now. You’ll put us in more danger than pretending to be all cool.❞ You read him like an open book, read between the blurred lines like you've known him for years. It was terrifying, to say the least,

❝How did you know?❞ That is all he could ask.

❝Well, considering how uncomfortable you look and the fact that your finger is hovering over the trigger when you're not ready to shoot. You could have killed us at any moment.❞ You point at the fatal flaw that Vinnie has done; prying his fingers away from the trigger.

❝Sorry.❞

You held a finger up.

❝Rule number one, don't point it at people when you're not intending to shoot even if you think it's unloaded.❞

You raised another finger up.

❝Rule number two, if you're not certain to fire at something or someone, don't hover your finger over the trigger.❞

He lets your words sink in; each syllable, as he slowly comes to understand the extra weight of great responsibility and repercussions that came with holding the weapon. Not that, he didn’t know, no, it was all coming at him like the waves crashing to the shore.

You placed your hands on him and nodded,

❝Good. One more thing to keep in the back of your mind, Vincent. We have to make every shot count.❞

He looks up to meet you in the eyes.

❝We're no longer regular people. We are survivors. We have to fight for our lives every single day, do you understand?❞

❝Yes.❞

❝Okay.❞

You stayed the night there. It was fairly a safe place. You and Vinnie didn't really talk much; ate dinner that you prepared, and you slept on the opposite side of the room, all done with no words exchanged. There was no danger that arose during the night so you had managed to get a wink of sleep. The flight of anxiety prevented you so, throughout the still night, you listened to Vinnie's even and slow breathing.

The morning came, sooner than you expected,

❝Goodmorning.❞ Vinnie greets sleepily, his voice deep and with a slight 

❝I'm not really hungry. Do you want anything?❞ 

❝No. Also, you're not responsible for making food for both of us. I'll make it too if you don't feel like it.❞

You stare at him for a second, he couldn't help but fidget on the spot. If he was being honest right now, he felt guilty, he felt like he'd just tossed a whole responsibility on your shoulder. Like he was some sort of another mouth to feed and not another asset. Vinnie felt bad. 

It felt like you were doing everything yourself like you were babysitting him.

❝Habit. But, if it bothers you, let's split responsibility. You go hunting for anything edible then I'll be the one cooking it.❞

❝That's a deal.❞ Vinnie agrees with the bargain, ❝Are we leaving now?❞

You nod firmly,

❝Yes. The sun is rising, we’re already both awake and we emptied this house already to its full potential, we need to keep moving. Don’t leave anything behind.❞

You leave the premises the same way you came in, however, Vinnie held the metal shutters open so you could squeeze out first. Just as you were about to squeeze out, a living dead grabbed Vinnie by the ankle and began tugging at him. He backs away letting the shutters drop, completely cutting it off cleanly as it lets an inhumane scream. He kicks off the limb clutching onto his ankle, and the living dead began to bang aggressively.

❝Fuck. Is there a back door?!❞

❝No! Let’s go!❞ You call for sprinting up the stairs with Vinnie following closely behind, your ears picked more and more gathered outside and the increased volumes of groans. There were more gathering outside as seconds passed by. Going straight to the door at the end of the hallway to your right, 

A living dead lunged at you coming for your neck knocking you off your feet and pinning you firmly onto the floor, its yellowing teeth baring at you and its blueish face near yours, there was no life behind those eyes anymore. It was sheened with an unnatural opaque cloudy purple and greenish hue. Its humanity is long gone. You held it by the shoulder preventing it from chomping and eating you alive.

❝FUCK!❞ You were kicking your feet trying to push it off you, Vinnie swung the butt of his own shotgun on its head, brain matter splattering on the walls. You push the collapsed body on top of you. He held out his hand and helped you back up,

❝Come on!❞ He held your hand tightly as he tugs your hand to follow him into the room, he shuts the door and you ran to open the window. It was quite a bit of drop but it was the only way out. You have to leave now.

❝You think we can jump this?❞

❝Well, either we jump now or we’ll be here and more of them will be waiting for us outside.❞ 

Vinnie carefully shimmied himself out the window reaching for the piping to climb down on, but due to its decaying stage, it cracked under his weight and toppled over, where he came crashing down violently on the ground. 

❝Vincent! Look out!❞ A living dead lunges straight at him, pushing him onto the ground. The dead stood no chance, you didn't hesitate shooting it at the back of its skull. Head exploded. You were quick, this was it. The game of survival you talked about. There was no time to be hesitating and diddle around. Or your life will be the price you pay.

Vinnie looked startled for a second but he snapped out of it, grabbing his shotgun, pumping the rearguard and pushing it forward. 

❝Come down! I’ll cover for you!❞ He starts shooting albeit clumsy and clearly inexperienced. Jerking from the violent recoil he didn’t mentally and physically prepare for.

The gunshot was attracting it towards you.

❝Let’s go!❞ You screamed finally landing the huge leap you took from the second floor, readying yourself with your gun.

The two of you ran for your lives, legs pumping, with a horde following closely behind you. A predator chasing after its prey. To be devoured. Sinking its teeth deep down to your skin and bones.

Vinnie spots an abandoned warehouse. 

❝Over there!❞

You ran for your lives,

Once you got there, you and Vinnie immediately shut the door close locking it behind, you hurried to push a large piece of furniture blocking off the entrance as the horde’s banging continued against the metal doors as they try to break in.

❝Fuck… At least, this is better than that place.❞ Vinnie pants, finally breathing, he was fucking terrified. He never got into that situation ever in the time that he was travelling alone. A horde. Like a terrifying tsunami, ready to sweep with its powerful rush of water, it was starting to click more in place, the sole reason why no matter what, you were always on the move.

❝Yeah… Let’s find another exit. Get the fuck out of here.❞ 

The place was a complete wreck and things were completely toppled over, there was a random puddle of water that reached up to your ankles from the leaking rusting pipe above you, it led to a large pool of water, and the top surface of the water shimmering from the light shining down from the open ceiling.

❝You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.❞ You cursed thinking about how you have to suffer with soaking socks and shoes till you get to your next destination, and you aren’t even entirely sure if it’s going to be completely bone dry on your next move.

❝This is going to be a fucking pain in the ass travelling with wet shoes.❞

❝Tell me about it. Well, we’ll just start a fire to help it dry quicker or at least… Dry enough.❞ You shrug, lifting your shogun above your head to avoid it getting soaked and slowly stepping into the cold body of water, you shivered. Vinnie also steps in lifting his own shotgun above the air, the two of you slowly navigate through the chest-deep water, to get to the other side where hopefully you’ll see an exit out of here.

❝It’s fucking freezing!❞ Vinnie’s teeth chattered,

❝Let’s try to hurry up and get out of the water.❞ You look over your shoulder warning him, ❝Be careful and try not to slip.❞

Vinnie chuckles.

❝I’ll try.❞

There was a light splashing water occasionally moving any floating rubbish and plants obstructing your way. Eventually, you get to the other end, completely soaked and your shoes squelch every step you took. It was disgusting and uncomfortable. You felt extremely cold and exposed, it didn’t help the fact there was a light breeze.

❝Fuck me.❞

❝I just hope there are spare clothes and shoes laying around here. I don’t think I can handle travelling like this.❞

❝Tell me about it.❞

❝I’m craving hot tomato soup and some bread.❞

❝Sounds fucking awesome.❞ Vinnie kicks his feet lightly to get at least the majority of the water out, ❝Let’s keep moving?❞

You nod. 

❝Got a torch on you? It’s a bit darker further in.❞

❝Uh…❞ Vinnie pats the chest pocket of his jacket, and he pulls out a tiny torch which was the size palm of his hand, ❝Is this good enough?❞

You snort.

❝Well, you must be fun in bed.❞ You said before walking away leaving Vinnie startled.

❝Don’t insult it! It’s all about the motion of the ocean!❞

Sure, that could be the case but not for the little guy, it was barely illuminating anything in front of you. You’d be way better off without it as it didn’t do much help.

❝Are you sure about that?❞

❝Okay… Maybe you’re right but I stand by my words.❞ Yet it was better than nothing, you'd be walking blindly into danger if you were to step in the dark like that. Vinnie took the lead, and you followed him closely. The dark led you into an office, you were guessing it used to be the manager’s office, especially with the number of metal drawers filled with soggy paperwork and folders, there was bright green mould on it. Dust collecting on the desk.

❝Oh, look…❞ You pick a rusting machete, ❝That horde outside is going to get more aggressive if we start shooting in here. Machetes or anything preferably silent is going to be handy.❞ 

❝Well, it seems like, after that, luck is gaining on our side.❞ Vinnie says, approaching the emergency pulaski that still remained in its box, he unlatches the lock and opens the glass door, he takes it out of the box. Held it firmly in his hand,

You began to head out of the office looking for an exit. There stood a dead twitching and slightly hunched over clutching his head like it was in pain, with its back turned towards you, the thing was groaning audibly. It seemed like; they were just recently infected. There was still some colour and breath of life in its skin. The stench of rotting was still absent. Everything about it was still fresh.

Taking initiative, you quietly snuck up behind it. Holding your breath. Hands gripping tightly onto the hilt of the machete. You approached and held it firmly in your grasp, it flailed around trying to desperately get away and hissing at you. Holding the sharp edge and digging deep into its neck then digging into the soft skin. It stopped, you let go and it fell limply onto the ground.

Another took notice of you, it came running but Vinnie intercepted it before it could even get near you, he hack the pulaski right at its head stopping it in its track and also falling down to the ground with a loud thud.

❝Let’s get out of here. I’m freezing.❞

You nod.

❝Yeah…❞

Then something caught your attention before you could leave.

❝Hey… What the fuck is that?❞ You point towards the silhouette of a man. Though it was dark, you could still tell someone was standing there. Not still, it was twitching and moving in an unordinary and almost uncontrollable way. Quivering like it was the cold. Contorting its body in an unnatural way. You couldn't explain it.

❝I have no fucking clue but, I think it's not a great idea to be seen by that.❞

Then it slowly turned around to face where you and Vinnie currently stand, stepping out of the shadows.

You have never seen anything like it. Horrifying. When you thought, you'd seen the worst of it all. This is a different stage of decay; its face was split right down the middle from the top of its skull down to where its nose is supposed to be, growing inside of it was a hardened symmetrical calloused fungal light yellowing colour with red tips. Skin is an almost entirely white thick leathery layer.

Everywhere on its body looked like there were circular boils and growing fungi. It made a weird clicking sound that rang throughout the warehouse.

You don't know what it is nor do you have knowledge of this whole virus but, one thing is for sure, it's evolving. 

Your heart was beating wildly.

❝Let's slowly back away. I wouldn’t want to mess with whatever that thing is.❞

You and Vinnie carefully take a step back, gradually, occasionally looking behind and keeping a keen eye on whatever that thing is. Feet getting caught at the legs of the chairs.

Shattering a glass bottle, its head whipped once again towards your direction. Letting out a series of clicks.

❝Fuck.❞ You run to hide and cowered behind the desk, Vinnie follows suit. Readying yourself with the rusting machete in your hand. The thing only stood where the bottle had rolled to as it let out another series of clicks and screech. It was defeaning. 

Vinnie spots another strayed bottle by his feet, he picks it up and clutches it before chucking it with all his might in the other direction, your ears could pick up the shattering noise. The clicker whips its ugly head towards the noise, it screeches once again, before sprinting towards it.

You two emerge behind the desk and began heading the opposite where it ran to, 

❝I think those things are just attracted to a loud nose. Good thinking on the machete.❞

❝I don’t even want to think about a horde of them coming at us all at once.❞

❝Have you seen anything like that? It looked completely different to what we encounter every day.❞

❝No, I haven’t.❞ You take a deep breath, ❝The virus is mutating or there could be another type of virus out there that could have bound with it.❞

❝This whole thing is getting terrifying every minute that passes.❞

❝Tell me about it. Whatever that thing is, we avoid it as much as possible till we find out how to kill it, properly.❞

❝You don’t have to tell me twice.❞

You and Vinnie attempt to go around the warehouse trying to find the exit but either you end another part of the warehouse or the doors are completely blocked by a chest of cabinets piled up on top of each other, an attempt to push it off was a fail. It didn’t even move an inch, it was a solid wall. Probably it was something to block off the horde but from the obvious look of it, it’s a flailed plan.

There was a stairwell that led up to the roof; you and Vinnie carefully climb your way up the metal stairs which were barely holding up, all weathered down and rusting, every step made it wobble and made a horrible noise which sounded like it was going to collapse at any second. This was a terrible idea but at this point, you’ve already gone too far to go back. On the roof, there were a lot of abandoned things and some random wooden crates scattered about, all covered with tattered and muddy cloth.

Vinnie removes it,

❝Hey, look Molotov bottles.❞ Vinnie picks it up and inspects it closely, ❝Wonder who left it here? Looks useful.❞

❝Well, whoever it is are pretty stupid.❞ You said looking through more crates, ❝Well, will you look at that? There’s more.❞

From a distance, there was a large boom, it sounded like an explosion or perhaps something large collapsed... You could still feel the aftershock,

❝What the fuck was that.❞

❝I don’t know… No maintenance for a long time could result in things, stop working or just breaking.❞

There was an echoed screech from below, you and Vinnie looked at each other, there were more of those things that you luckily didn’t come across on your way up here. But holy fuck, there were 20- No, definitely more than that. They let off a series of clicks. It was already terrifying as it is seeing those things up close but seeing so many of them in a group. The noise must have gotten their attention to the surface,

❝You think these Molotov got something to do with it?❞ Vinnie gulps.

❝Most likely. I mean, who makes this in their free time? Someone has come across this and figured out how to kill it.❞

❝Want to try it out?❞ He looks over at you,

❝Well, there’s a ladder on the side of this building. We can get down from there if this doesn’t go our way.❞

Vinnie approaches the stairwell, it was barely holding on anyways, he starts kicking away at the stairs creating a clanging sound which caught the attention of the Clickers.

❝Hey. Got any other way to keep this quietly?❞

❝You tell me!❞ Vinnie says at you sarcastically. This time he started hitting it with his axe quickly and desperately,

You grabbed one of the bottles and threw it into the stairwell which shattered into pieces, you grabbed your shotgun and aimed. Once you took your shot, the alcohol bursts into bright flames igniting, the Clickers nearby and drenched in the flammable liquid also combusted. They let out high-pitched screams before collapsing, charred and blistered.

Vinnie finally managed to get the stairs detached. It was quiet for a moment.

❝Let’s get the fuck out of here.❞

[sweettoothsprout]

heyy this is for mod. uhhh CANNIBALISM SPROUT AU *JUMPS AROUND FOR JOY*

FUN FACT. I WANTED SPROUT'S TWISTED DESCRIPTION TO DO WITH SMTH RELATED TO CANNIBALISM but it's a roblox game so we couldn't have gotten that. sighs in disappointment.

anyways. HOORAY!!!! KEEP UP THE GREAT WORK OP. ART IS SUPER SUPER AWESOMEE

(ooc) YIPPEEEEEE dw i will give you cannibal sprout☝️ come closer 😀

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part fourteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

Blue holds her arm out, stopping you from taking another step.

"Sh. I see one."

Up ahead, a squirrel stills on a tree, beady eyes unblinking. In a matter of seconds, Blue throws her knife and pins it to the bark through the stomach. 

"Nice," you comment. "You got it on the first try this time."

In your hand is the other squirrel she killed for you. Ghost started working on your bow yesterday. He didn't say anything to you about it, but you spotted him sitting on the porch chiseling away at a hunk of oak. Until he's finished, you've struck another deal: helping Blue skin the rabbits in exchange for her killing squirrels with you. She's better at killing them with a knife than you are. 

"This is good practice for me." She wriggles the knife out and hands you the kill. "Poor guy didn't see it coming."

"Probably better that way."

She slips the knife back to her ankle. "Do you need more? Or is two enough."

"Two is enough. I saw these flowers by the trench that I think are edible."

"You can eat flowers?" She makes a face. The two of you begin heading back toward the camp. You didn't go off too far with her. Ghost said she wasn't allowed to go past the pond without him. Truthfully, you were surprised he let her go with you at all. 

"Yeah. Pink Sorrel. They taste lemony, and I'll add the leaves, too. Like a salad."

"Yum," she says sarcastically. "Did Paul teach you that?"

You nod. "He knew a lot about plants."

"Are you sure he didn't like you?" 

"Blue," you almost groan. "You've asked me this twice now."

"Well, you seemed to have spent a lot of time with him, and he taught you a lot of things."

"You can spend time with someone and learn things from them without... liking them."

"I wouldn't know," she shrugs, waving her hand around. "There are no boys here for me to spend time with besides Ghost." 

"Paul didn't like me in that way," you reaffirm. "Besides, he's dead."

There is a lingering pause as a cloud rolls over the sun, turning everything dim before it passes. The weather these past few days has been fluctuating like true spring. Cold showers in the morning, intense sunlight by noon, and clouds that come and go. The cabbages Blue planted have sprouted fat, juicy leaves. You've mentally scolded yourself for not including seeds in your deal with Ghost. 

"So when are you and Ghost going to start training or whatever?" Blue speaks up, switching subjects.

"Training?" you repeat.

"He told me you wanted to learn some things." She glances at you. "Look, let me just warn you, he can be a real hard ass. One time, he made me climb up and down a tree twenty times without stopping. And another time, he made me throw knives over and over until I hit the exact same spot on the tree again."

Right. Somehow, that last request you made of him has slipped your mind. You did ask him to teach you how to better defend yourself against other people.

It's been over a week now, and the two of you still haven't talked much except for the necessities. Honestly, it's probably best that way. Maintaining a clinical relationship with him should keep the peace and maybe even earn more of his trust. You're growing confident that he doesn't see you as much of a threat anymore. Last night, you ran into him again after waking up from another dream, and all he did was walk past you, step outside for a cigarette, and then go back to his room. He didn't seem suspicious of you being up at all.

That said, the reminder of the 'training' he's supposed to give you makes your teeth snag onto your lip. 

When you don't respond, Blue adds, "What exactly do you want him to show you? I hate to say it, but I don't think he'll give you one of his guns."

"No," you shake your head. "I don't want that. It's not Greys that I'm as worried about. As long I've got distance, I can use my bow for them. It's more about... other people. They get close. Too close."

"Well, you can always bite their nose off," she gives a bump to your shoulder.

You cringe. "I'd rather not have to do that again."

She pauses, looking at her boots. "What did it taste like?"

"Fucking awful. Probably the grossest thing I've ever experienced."

She looks up. "If you were a Grey, you would've loved it."

"Well, I'm human still, and I much prefer these guys." You wag the dead squirrels in front of her face and she laughs. If you could replace all her tears with that sound, you would.

"You still haven't answered my question," Blue tilts her head. "When are you getting started? Because I have some training in mind for you, too."

You arch a brow but don't question it. "Um. I don't know. Ghost hasn't said anything to me about it, and he's busy working on my bow right now."

"Why don't you ask him, then?" She shoots you a knowing smirk. "Are you scared of him, Twix?"

"No," you say all too quickly. "No... I'm not. I just don't know how to talk to him. He's not exactly approachable."

"Just do what I do. I say whatever I want to him. Except when he's pissed, then—" she freezes for a moment and lays a hand on your shoulder. "—it's better to shut up and listen. Believe me."

You speak under your breath. "Noted."

It's another dream that night which pushes you to actually confront him. The loud voices sharpen into images— a bloodied knife at your throat, a toothy smile, carved body parts. You wake up and grab your neck, expecting to feel severed tissue. Instead, you feel damp skin. Something bubbles up your throat and fills your mouth. Squirrel and Pink Sorrel. The taste makes you shudder, but you swallow your dinner back down. The dark, quiet living room mocks you. 

The morning after that, you find him on the porch. It's not raining, but the air pricks the back of your neck with dew. You've already bathed and woven your hair into braids, which is growing longer by the day and bordering on an inconvenience.

Ghost tilts his head the second a wood plank creaks beneath your footsteps, tearing his gaze away from the assortment of carving knives in his lap. You've caught him in the moment before he's started to work on your bow again.

He is wearing that balaclava that makes him look more man than ghost, along with a black hoodie and faded, brown jacket. The whites of his eyes are visible, slowly sliding up to yours. You fully realize he isn't going to greet you with a hello, and standing there in an uncomfortable silence doesn't interest you, so you bite the bullet.

"I want to start that other thing I asked you for."

He seems to know what you're referring to. "Right now?"

Your nails dig into your palms, realizing that you should've waited for a time when he wasn't preoccupied. Though, he's hardly ever not doing something. 

Blue was right. Something about him has you subconciously on the defensive; it's something you want to get over if this living arrangement is going to be long-term, which you'd prefer it to be. It was about two months ago now that he nearly killed you, and since then, he has kept you alive ten times over. Maybe you should focus on that: on the hand that pulled you up, on the warm jacket over your shoulders, on the bow he is making.

"Whenever you have the chance. But— now, if we could."

Ghost lowers his eyebrows and seems to think it over. "Now is fine. Your bow will have to wait a bit, then."

"That's okay," you speak as you exhale. "I don't mind."

It's at that moment Blue pushes through the front door and you almost startle. "Can I come with you guys?"

Ghost folds his knives up and responds in a firm tone. "No. You have work to finish up."

"But my leg is hurting," she retorts lightly. "I'd rather sit and watch you guys."

"Your leg was just fine yesterday when you were hunting and climbing trees." 

"That was yesterday. Today, it hurts." She bites her lip and shrugs.

"How convinient." He gives her a dry look.

"So is that a yes?"

"It's a no."

With a groan, she goes back inside. 

Ghost escorts you out of the gate and towards a small clearing nestled within a circle of trees. As you follow behind him, you find your eyes straying to his broad back and for a moment, you wonder if maybe you've changed your mind— or maybe you want to tell him to wait until Blue can come join.

But you remind yourself that survival is a proactive game; you can't laze around and keep getting sick from the memories. You need to shut them away into that box you've made, and in the meantime, get stronger.

"Here is good," he says, stopping.

It's been awhile since you've done anything like this. There were plenty of times Paul 'trained' you. He used to make you shoot at the trees until your back muscles were practically immobile. As an ex forest ranger, he wasn't much of a fighter. His advice was always this: "Don't let anyone or anything get close enough to where you have to fight them."

Clearly, his advice can only go so far.

In the five years you were at your old camp, you managed to keeps things at a distance for the most part. A few Greys had snuck up on you, resulting in thrashing and wrestling around to avoid bites. But there were only one or two times that you had to engage in close combat with a human. The few other survivors you encountered were usually punished by Paul's rifle or your arrows. 

You shed your jacket and hang it on a branch, left in just Ghost's shirt and your jeans. "So, um, what should I start with? Running laps?"

"You want to learn how to defend yourself, not run a marathon."

"Right." You nod and rub at the gooseflesh that sprouts on your arm. You turn to face him. "I was joking."

Ghost ignores your comment with a pensive expression, staring you down across the short distance. You put on a blank face and meet his eyes expectantly. 

The silence stretches for a second longer than what would be deemed normal. Is this just how he is, then? Or is it only with you? You're about to say something to put an end to it when he suddenly crosses his arms over his chest.

"You were a nurse." It should come out like a question, but it's more of a statement. His voice nearly makes you jump. 

You can't help it; you look away. "Um. I... wasn't, actually."

Why is he bringing this up? Never once has he asked anything about you. In fact, you sometimes toy with the thought that he might have forgotten your real name by now.

"Figured," he says.

You frown, flashing him a confused look. "What? Why?"

"You're a bit too young to have been a nurse five years ago."

You think back to the moment he found you with an inward wince. "So you knew I wasn't telling the truth?"

"It didn't matter if you were or not."

That's right. I don't need a nurse, he said. 

"It wasn't a total lie," you clarify, dropping your arms at your sides. "I was in nursing school."

He rubs his chin. "You should understand the body, then— its weak points."

Your fingers flex before they gesture to your face. "The nose and eyes are obvious ones. But... but if someone grabs me from behind like," you forcefully inhale, "Like you did, then I won't be able to reach them."

He gives a short nod, then looms closer. You will your boots to remain planted in the damp soil despite the overwhelming proximity and intimidating mass of him. You blink up as he points a gloved finger to the hinge of his jaw. "There's this, too. Pretty easy to dislocate." His fingers move to side of his corded neck. "And here. The throat is weak and vital."

"I still wouldn't be able to reach those," you point out.

"You have more than just your arms, Twix."

"So my head, then?"

"That's one way." He moves a step back and you release a breath you didn't realize you were holding. "Why don't you show me what you'd do— give it a try."

The suggestion should be expected given what you're asking of him— of course he would have to touch you at somepoint. Yet, it makes you stiffen. He motions his hand for you to turn around and with great hesitance, you comply, until you hear the crunch of twigs beneath his boots as he closes in behind you. You stare straight ahead at a tree and focus on breathing. 

"Relax. I'm not going to hurt you."

His flat tone makes your eyes twitch in irritation and you are glad he can't see them. "Yeah. I know."

Just as he did all that time ago, his burly arms wrap around you, though not as firm and threatening. Your feet don't hang and you're not skin and bones this time, but once again, you are imprisoned against a hard chest. Your lungs pick up their pace and an artery in your neck jolts. 

"Just show me what you'd do," he says slowly, warm breath fanning across the top of your hair. "Don't worry about hurting me."

You wriggle against him, but even without issuing all his strength, it's useless. You stomp on his foot, figuring that toes are pretty vulnerable, but his thick boot hurts your sole more than you could possibly have hurt him. Your eyes begin to sting. You suddenly find yourself panting in frustration. Before you can even think about trying to use your head, full-blown panic unfurls in your chest. 

"Let go," you say under your breath. He must not hear you. Your voice turns to a snarled hiss. "Fucking let go of me."

His hold immediately loosens and you stagger forward, creating much-needed distance. Heavy breaths scratch up your throat. You wipe the back of your hand over your forehead and close your eyes for a moment, seeing blood and burnt skin against the backs of your lids. When you reopen them, Ghost is staring at you. The humiliation sets in as a red flush on your cheeks.

"Sorry," you shake your head and stare up at the clouded sky. "Just— maybe we should go back." Your arms hug around your stomach to keep its contents contained. "We can start this another day."

Throwing up in front of him again is low on the list of things you'd enjoy doing. He's already seen you near-death— no need to add a mental breakdown to your repertoire. Your lips press tightly together as you head to the tree for your jacket, but his gruff voice pauses your fingers against the embroidered flag on its sleeve.

"This isn't going to work if you don't tell me what is bothering you."

Your hand drops. "What?"

"What happened when you went to get the ammo, Twix?" he presses.

"I..." 

To tell him would be to pry open that box you've made and let him peek inside. He has never even asked a single question about you until today, so you press onto the lid, tight, and turn to face him with pleading eyes. "I don't want to talk about it with you, Ghost. Don't make me."

In response, he lifts up his hands in resignation. "Alright." He lowers them. "Why don't you at least tell me how you handled it?"

"Why?"

He taps a finger to his masked temple. "So I can understand how you think. How you keep surviving all this shit."

The wave of nausea settles as you form your response. "I... I burned him. He cleaned the bite on my arm with some alcohol. I distracted him a little and then smashed the bottle on his head. I had my lighter, so I used it."

Slowly, he nods, as if your words are not all that surprising to him. "And how about at the base when I left you?"

"There was that Grey," you remind him. "I bit the guy's nose and pushed him into it. If it hadn't been there, Blue and I would be dead. You see? I survived because I was lucky. I hardly know what I'm doing."

Ghost argues. "You survived because you saw opportunities and took them. You were smart about it."

"And what about when there are no opportunities? I will just panic like I did now." The tightness in your chest turns into something that has you roughly grabbing the jacket and sheathing your bare arms. "Let's just go back now.”

This time, he doesn't protest. The silence that clouds the short walk back is expected on his part, and purposeful on yours. 

[8107raptcustode]

So, let's go over my and my alters' Helluva/Hazbin inserts

Note: this is running under @nottapossum 's au to a large extent

Further note: given the day, I feel I must clarify this is *not* a joke post, aright? 100% seriousness here.

Running under them all having been distinct souls stuck inhabiting the same body in life. Still bound together in death via chains similar to the ones from deals, but at least they have distinct bodies now. All the chains really do is make it so they can't actually sell their souls. Not one has control over the others.

🐍👢 Vincent(Me!): Is a sinner with the appearance of a melanistic sidewinder (or desert horned viper as it's also known.)

He is in large part a snake regressor (60% easy) with most of the remaining percentage being little, and some traces of caregiver and guardian in there.

Favorite foods: raw veggies with buttermilk ranch, milk with barley powder, chilli, baked beans, and fruit smoothies

Takes a bit of a Western/farmboy aesthetic both in and out of headspace. In headspace it's taken up to 11, but even out of it he's rarely seen not wearing a plaid shirt, leather duster, and stetson hat. Talks the part too, having grown up in Texas almost his entire childhood.

He does occasionally work with Carmilla, testing weapons for accuracy, balance, ease of use, etc. Finds he's a better judge with firearms.

Very much a musician at heart. Often heard singing old folk songs and gunslinger ballads softly to himself. His singing voice is rich and sweet, but still requires practice to properly hit notes.

🦂🌼 Aster is 80% guardian, 18% caretaker, 2% neutral.

He's a sinner that takes the appearance of a South African deathstalker scorpion, with the ability to shoot venom from his tail included. He will spray involuntarily if sufficiently startled, but the venom is heavily diluted even with a direct sting and at most makes the victim really tired, burns a bit like peroxide if it touches a mucous membrane like the mouth or eyes. He's actually used it to sedate some of the others when they start getting panicky or excessively violent.

He speaks with a Middle English dialect, but don't be fooled, it's just an affectation. Sometimes the fact he has chelicerae in place of a normal mouth does make speaking difficult.

He does have pedipalps with slender claws. They sprout from between his shoulder blades like wings and are held above his shoulders when he feels there's a threat, otherwise he tucks them neatly behind his back. He'll hold them off to the sides if carrying anything with them. Besides those he has two pairs of normal arms, one of which he keeps folded over his midsection when not in use, and two pairs of legs.

He does have bad hips and occasionally requires a cane to get around comfortably.

In terms of fashion choices, he tends to lean toward a Victorian style. Button vest, lace-fly pants, cloaked tailcoat, long leather boots, and tricorne hat

Very much a bread and meat enthusiast when it comes to food, and has the gut to show it. If he's cooking it's all but guaranteed to be a roast, a meat stew, or a grilled cut/patty dish.

Before coming to the Hotel he spent most of his time in the Cannibal Colony. While he didn't get the opportunity in life, he did wish to try something more "exotic" to say the least. Helped run a butchery there for some time, left when the butcher ran afoul of Alastor. Doesn't have much rapport with Rosie, being relatively new to the colony overall, but does have a crush on her nonetheless.

Note: Do not try to shorten his name, and do not call him "Daisy." Assuming he's familiar with you he will cease speaking with you until he gets an apology. If unfamiliar you will be torn apart and eaten. An exception is made for sign language as the signs for "Daisy" and "Aster" are the same unless fingerspelled.

Like Vin he is very much a musical type, his voice being just a bit deeper, but also more rough and gravelly. Primarily he focuses on love songs, chain gang songs, and sea shanties.

🕸🤘 Rhiannon: 98% caregiver, 2% guardian

Takes the form of a regal jumping spider. She does have fanged chelicerae at the corners of her mouth that fold over her upper lip and pedipalps that sprout from her lower mandible, but her venom is not significant and even if she were to bite (which would never happen unless she was protecting someone) it wouldn't have much effect beyond a slight blister and rash around the area.

Speaks with a slight Midwestern US accent, and her voice is usually bright and cheery.

Fashion-wise she tends to just stick with a t-shirt and pants or shorts with a loose fit.

Like Aster she has two sets of arms and two sets of legs, but she doesn't keep either set of arms folded, choosing to let them rest on her hips or hang at her sides most of the time.

Favorite foods are pasta bolognese, eggplant parmesan, and fried dill pickles.

She'll answer to "Rhi" or "RhiRhi"

Worked as a bartender in Club Kaiju for a bit, but found that she really just couldn't keep up with the size of the patrons. Still on good terms with Missy Zilla, though.

Not as musically inclined as the others, but does find herself tapping along to a random beat a lot of the time.

🐙💡 Isaac: 87% neutral, 13% caregiver

Looks a mindflayer with a blue-ringed octopus pattern, 5 tentacles hanging around his mouth. Can change colors to blend in somewhat, but the rings turn much brighter when excited, agitated, or frightened. Also sprays noxious ink when startled, though there's not any range on it, so the most that happens is he needs to change clothes and/or clean the floor under him. Can also summon tentacles from most surfaces and has some psychic influence to be able to calm people very slightly on touch.

He's *extremely* skinny. Unhealthily so. He deals with regular major depressive episodes that make him not have any appetite.

His favorite food, when he can stomach it, is crab rangoon, but he'll at least try to eat pretty much any seafood if given to him regardless of his appetite.

He doesn't really speak that much if at all. Finds writing and sign language to be easier, especially with the tentacles in the way.

Does do occasional work for Valentino, being able to summon tentacles has its uses in that industry, after all. And thus does have some relation with Angel Dust, albeit limited.

Like the rest he has musical inclinations. His longer, spindly fingers make it easier to play guitar, bass, harp, and piano.

🦈🐺 Gareth: 50% shark regressor, 50% little. Permaregressor as well.

Smallest of the bunch, he stands just a head over Niffty. Takes the form of a spurdog with a cerulean skin tone, complete with a venomous barb in front of his dorsal fins that causes extreme pain and swelling. Almost always wearing a specialized harness set so he doesn't accidentally prick anyone.

Besides his harness, he's usually wearing only a pair of jeans or shorts. Shirts press on the dorsal fin between his shoulders too much.

He was bounced around between the caregivers in the group based on who was the least busy at the time. There was one incident where Valentino pissed him off enough to try and bite a chunk out of him, but the other overlords he's met he got on fine with. Except Alastor, who seemed to only begrudgingly tolerate his presence. (He's a shark regressor, so major dog vibes) And especially Vox, who seemed to absolutely light up, both figuratively and literally, on meeting him.

Doesn't talk much, because he can usually get his point across just fine without words. Does bark and whine like a puppy. And when he does speak his speech patterns are somewhat robotic, unless he's quoting a spoken line, then he'll match the candor of the original speaker.

Favorite foods: jambalaya, black pudding, sweet potatoes, and fried mushrooms with ranch.

And, like the others, he likes to play music. Ocarina and tin/low whistle are his favorite instruments, and so long as he can play a song on either he's happy to do so.