#i just don't find zombies all that interesting

[pinkrangersarah]

man, watching the maze runner as an adult is so damn funny, because i remember being so confident that the cranks were NOT zombies, and i got so annoyed when people referred to them as zombies.

the cranks are fucking zombies, the hell kind of delusional shit was i on lmfao

[themthistles]

was s2 of sweet home sponsored by the korean army whats going on

[pocketramblr]

I like to think of 3rd as a former bodyguard of All for One, maybe he wasn't born with a quirk too. Maybe he received one from All for One and dedicated himself to serving him as a result only to come to his senses later on.

There was a bit of time when I thought that the ponytailed masked bodyguard of AfO was going to turn out to be the same as the pineapple silhouette one, (the indents on one's mask being similar to the shape the other's headband made from the side) and that like, he put his hair up when he changed sides and wore slightly new clothes and that he was the one to either get Yoichi out of that vault or pass information onto Second so he could get him out. But then we got more clear shots of Third with lighter hair and it seemed more likely Giga was the fate of the bodyguard... But I'll always have a fondness for former AfO guard Third. Perhaps his turning is why Yoichi is glad to see Izuku trying to save Tenko, perhaps that's why Third kept away from Izuku, shame or sure that he'd fail because at least Third was an adult at the time, and what hope do they really have, and why drag the kid in further... Love that plus I think we really should have more former villains in the OfA lineup

[definitelyjunehomestuck]

if you feel like you need to make every other feature in the game incredibly tedious to incentivize people to explore, the problem isn't that those features are too easy to interact with, it's that your world is just horribly unengaging and has no inherent fun to it.

[scoobhead]

weaponry in the locked tomb is so interesting because when you break it down it's like:

guns exist in-universe but are used by the freedom fighter terrorist organization almost exclusively

swords are (were?) commonplace enough that gideon was able to find and train with a decently well-balanced two-hander on the ninth, despite the fact that the ninth has no military force or even interplanetary traffic. gideon's sword is at least 20 years old, probably older

swords are definitely still in use within the empire, at least by cavaliers, but likely within the cohort as a whole. to my memory there are no mentions of cohort members carrying military-issue guns

even though they're trained in a variety of weapons and techniques, cavaliers (are supposed to) carry exclusively rapiers. gideon prefers her two-hander and cam carries twin shortswords, but these seem to be rare and shocking exceptions to the standard.

rapiers are used by cavaliers explicitly for the purpose of lyctorhood. they're light enough that a scrawny necromancer without swordfighting experience can pick it up and rely on their cav's training without needing to build the muscle to wield the sword effectively

because of the secretive nature of the megatheorem, and lyctorhood as a whole, most people just follow the rapier rule because it's tradition. it is what is done. harrow makes this pretty clear at the beginning of gtn

cavaliers can carry a variety of offhand weapons. it seems like the full spectrum of middle age weaponry is possible - but still, no guns. not even secretly, as with cam's dual blades. some cavs choose to carry material for their necromancers as their offhand - ortus carries a bowl of bones for harrow, and i can only assume "the powder" mentioned as harrow's choice for gideon's offhand towards the beginning of gtn is some kind of bone dust

from a doylist perspective, all of this creates a aesthetic that starts very analog and gothic and gradually grows into a more standard sci-fi space opera through the series. by ntn, we've hit most of the established genre weaponry tropes that we've come to expect from older futuristic space media like star wars and alien. blasters and guns are standard fare, and it makes sense to hold off on introducing them until the scope of the story gets broader and more interplanetary

from a watsonian perspective, it's a little more difficult to draw concrete conclusions without the context that atn will inevitably provide. but if i had to hedge a guess, i'd say that, as with most things, It's All John Gaius's Fault. when he resurrected the galaxy i'd assume that he wanted to keep the aesthetics of medieval imperialism, and given his 21st century liberalism probably didn't want guns to be part of the equation. but they were anyways - we know this because wake carries a big one - and instead of standardizing firearms within his military and for his lyctors, he clings to the aesthetics of swordplay. please correct me if i'm remembering it wrong, but to my knowledge every gun shown in the series is either directly linked to boe or implied to be sourced from them. jod dooms his own lyctors and military by refusing to update their weaponry.

all of this poses a lot of questions about atn: who will carry a gun, and why? where did the gun come from? why DON'T the lyctors just use firearms? and most importantly: will they be fighting zombies with swords???

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part eighteen —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3.3k 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.

Over the next four days, you find yourself panting in exhilaration each morning you spar with Ghost. Every slam of your hand into his ribs feels strangely better than the last. He goes harder on you. He'd been holding back, too, apparently— an unfortunate fact for your ribs. The pain seems to motivate you more, even if he is still beating the shit out of you.

Blue also motivates you. "Hit his nose again!"

Of course, that is the one part of him you purposely avoid.

The sun returns and sweat glides down your face. You knee his stomach. It's less vulnerable than swinging a kick, but still, he attempts to grab you by the waist. You quickly skirt away, the ground firmer beneath your feet, only for his hand to latch onto one of your braids, instead. A sting pulses through your scalp as he tugs hard, wrenching your ear close to his mouth.

"Quicker. Good. But don't get too cocky."

"I thought you wanted me to be more confident," you retort between ragged breaths. 

"Yes, but you can't forget who has the advantage here." There is the slightest bit of arrogance in his voice that makes your teeth grit.

"How could I ever forget?" Your head tilts and he releases the braid. Suddenly, the thought of smacking his nose again doesn’t seem so bad.

His eyebrow quirks. "Get some water, Twix. You need it."

The water caresses your tongue as you gulp it down without abandon. Unsurprisingly, Blue has disappeared somewhere in the treetops. The lack of more broken bones has waned her interest.

When Ghost lifts his mask to drink, you steal a glance at his nose, noticing that the swelling has gone down significantly. The fact he is still wearing that thing with a broken nose upholds your theory that he is at least slightly insane— as if the fact that he once shoved a gun into your fresh wound wasn’t already evidence of that.

Out of nowhere, he materializes beside you and places a hand on your stomach. Your sore muscles spasm under the surprise of his touch, his long fingers stretching from one side of your ribs to the other.

"Your strength starts here,” he explains in a hoarse murmur. “Keep it tight and you will deliver more damage."

You purse your lips to hide a wince and tap your nose. "Don’t I already deliver enough damage?"

"The nose is fragile. You may be landing more hits on me, but I still hardly feel a thing from them."

He allows you to pry his hand off, but the pressure of it seems to linger. Ghost studies you in a way that turns you translucent before demanding, "Lift your shirt, Twix."

Exhaling through your nose, you hesitate before peeling it up, revealing the collection of bruises you have earned from him. A myriad of pink, purple, and yellow skin flares up under his gaze. They have been giving you a hard time lacing your boots and tying your hair in the morning, but once you get moving, the ache becomes easier to ignore.

He has already seen your stomach and more, yet, your skin itches from the exposure. You shove the shirt back down.

His expression shifts. "You should have said something."

"They're just bruises. I'm not bleeding or anything."

"Still."

"Still what?"

He looks irritated. "You need to fucking communicate."

"I don't see why it matters. No coddling, right?"

"That doesn't mean I'm interested in breaking you."

You jerk your chin up to meet his stare. “You won't."

Blue swings down from a tree, plopping between the two of you and unintentionally—thankfully—putting an end to the subject. "I'm glad you two are finally getting along. It's good for the team." She nudges her dad. "But are you done with her yet? You can't just hog Twix all to yourself."

He clears his throat and the air between your bodies breathes wider. "If you're getting bored maybe we need to find something for you to practice."

"Nope!" she says quickly. "Not bored at all." 

He nods to a tree. "Go on. Practice your knives. You haven't done that in a while. Then, you can have her."

With a groan, she trudges away. 

The sparring continues.

Ghost's fists soften by a smidge.

"He annoys the shit out of me sometimes."

Blue rips up a tuft of grass as you inch back to admire the swipe of color on her eyelids. It was her idea to use the bold-colored flowers for makeup— just like the models in her magazines. You did your best to mash the petals and mix them with some creekwater, but the result is kind of patchy and not nearly as smooth as the stuff you used to put on years ago. 

"Hold still. I'm doing your cheeks next."

The sun highlights the splash of freckles on her cheeks and you try to recall if Ghost had them. Her nose is nothing like his. A dainty button. Another trait she must've gotten from her mom. 

"Did you used to wear makeup?" she asks curiously, eyelashes fluttering down. 

"Sometimes. Especially when I went out."

"Went out where?"

Concentration nudges between your brows. "To clubs and stuff. It's where people would... dance."

Her lips spread as she cocks her head to the side in a manner that emulates her dad. You have to remind her again to stop moving. “Oh. Sorry. You danced?"

"I mean, not good dancing. Just dancing for fun,” you murmur, shrugging at the faint memories of being sandwiched between strangers, alcohol flowing through your veins rather than fear and adrenaline. Back then, mornings were spent nursing a hangover before class rather than earning bruises from an ex-lieutenant. 

Humor dances in her eyes when they reopen. "I don't think Ghost ever went to a club. I cannot imagine him dancing."

The images in your mind morph into something utterly laughable— him standing there like an immovable tank as people try to dance around him. "No, probably not."

"He never really tells me about his life before shit happened," she says thoughtfully. 

This piques your curiosity, but you keep your voice light. "No?"

"Well, he tells me the simple stuff. Mostly about his job. But never... never the small things, you know? Like I have no idea what he used to do for fun or what his life was like when he was a kid." She pauses a moment before adding, "He had a brother. That much I know."

You glance up. "Had?"

"He died before the virus. His mom and dad, too. But every time I ask how they died, he just says," she deepens her voice, "'Doesn't matter how, kid. Dead is dead.'"

"Oh, um, yeah, that sounds like something he would say." You tap your fingers under her chin. "I can put some on your lips, too."

Her eyes close again as she puckers her lips out. When you're done, she continues. "He also never talks about my mom." Her face twists. “I think he thinks talking about her will hurt my feelings."

For a few seconds, you struggle to find a response. The rare mention of her mom always makes your heart stutter, but this time, your broken, callused hand reaches out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

"It's okay to feel hurt, you know."

Blue shrugs and looks up at the cobalt sky. "I don't think I remember her enough to feel that hurt anymore. She feels so... far away. I remember small things, like the sound of her voice and her old apartment where I lived, but sometimes I wonder if I am making up those memories, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean." A terrible urge sits on your tongue to ask her more about her mom, about what exactly her relationship was like with Ghost, but Blue changes the subject before you can.

"Does the makeup look good?" A shy blush clouds her cheeks.

You stand up with a faint smile. "I think I did pretty damn good. Come on. I want you to go look in the mirror."

Music.

It pounds so hard you feel it in your chest.

Neon walls enclose you as someone touches your backside, dancing against you. There is a man's voice in your ear that you think you recognize but it's hard to hear him through all the laughing and chatter. Your hair falls in loose curls down your back, free of braids, and you swipe it from your sweaty skin before excusing yourself to the bathroom.

You push through the people. The narrow hall is shrouded with different doors... so many doors. Where is the bathroom? It must be a Friday night on Oxford Street with how fucking crowded and stuffy this place is. Someone knocks into you roughly and your footsteps quicken. A sense of urgency drags you into the next door you come across, a large one made of grey oak.

The smell is horrendous but you feel relieved to see urinals and stalls. Immediately, you press into the granite counter and grip the edge as you catch your breath. The scratched, warped mirror houses a face covered in makeup. Youthful eyes. Flushed cheeks. How much have you had to drink? You need to go home. You will pee and then go home, you tell yourself. Over and over, you repeat this as you relieve yourself in one of the graffiti-doused stalls where condom and tampon wrappers crinkle beneath your heels.

When you're done, you try for the large door you came through, but it doesn't budge. The muffled music outside has faded. Panic sears your chest. You press your back against the door. The bathroom has changed. The stalls are gone. The walls feel like they are closing in, and the smell of piss turns into something even worse. You are alone. Where is the man you came with? You look down. Dead bodies. Strewn limbs. You're standing on a pile of them.

You start screaming. Banging on the door. Digging your fingers into the wood until the flesh rubs down to bone. 

It's not a room anymore, but a box. The fluorescent lights replaced by sheer darkness.

The edges of the door disappear.

A sickening silence replaces your screams.

And then—

"Twix."

You sit up, wild-eyed. You grip onto something—fabric—and a foul taste travels up your throat without warning. You heave several times, your entire body shuddering. 

When awareness settles in, you wipe your mouth and blink up. Ghost. He is... here. Hovering over you. His shirt is tightly bunched between your fingers and you have just vomited into it. The realization smacks you awake and you recoil sharply, staring at his moonlit mask with an expression that must be just short of mortified.

"I... Fuck. I am so sorry. I don't know why— I just..."

When you dare to look at the mess you've left on him, you nearly vomit again. Hands shaking, you rub at your clammy face and begin to ramble unthinkingly as his stare flickers between you and his soiled shirt.

"I've been trying so hard not to hold back like you said, but I think it is fucking me up a little and letting out some things— memories, I guess. I was pretty good about keeping it all in my box because I've been too tired to even think about it, but now I just..." You trail off, realizing your words must make little sense. 

"You've certainly let something out," he rasps.

Your hands drop against the sofa and you cringe. "I'll wash it for you. I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing."

You inhale. "I just fucking threw up on you."

"I'm aware."

Ghost straightens. He pinches the collar of his shirt and carefully hoists it over his head. Then, you're looking at his bare chest. Slivers of moonlight caress rigid brawn and mountainous scars that capture your gaze for a few heartbeats before you tear it away. 

"I'll, um, hang it outside and... wash it in the morning." 

Your legs are unnervingly steady when you stand up and take the shirt from him, carefully grabbing it by a dry spot. You are relieved to get away from him, draping it over the porch and swallowing gulps of fresh air before you go back inside, praying he's gone back to bed.

Luckily, he has. When the empty living room greets you, you sink to the sofa and palm your eyes. Then, you notice something left on the pillow. A cigarette. You pick it up and recall the few times you smoked whenever your friends offered one. The taste never sat well with you. 

You rummage for your lighter. The first inhale burns terribly, but you cough into the pillow and try again. It starts to calm you down after a few times, and only when you've gotten to the butt of it do you go back to sleep.

"No wonder you're not getting stronger if you throw up like that every night."

Not even five minutes into training the next morning he brings it up. The rest of your sleep ended abruptly when he got you up at an unearthly time, probably to avoid having Blue as an audience. You are too winded to even scowl, your fists held tight in front of your face as you try to predict where he will aim next.

"I told you. That was the first night in a while." 

"Right. Something about a box, huh?"

"Can we just forget about it, please?"

"Hard to forget when my shirt still smells."

"I washed it the best I could."

The next dodge has your head flying down fast enough to undo one of your braids. Hair slips over your face and you huff, holding your hand up. "Hold on. Give me a minute."

As you undo the other one and opt for shoving your hair into a tight bun instead, he watches you strangely. The feel of his stare ignites a spark of irritation and you flash him a sideways glance. "Look, thank you for the cigarette and everything else you have ever done for me, but you can stop looking at me like that. Like you... pity me. I'm not going to break, I'm not going to ask you to kill me again. Everyone left in this world has nightmares and mine probably aren't the worst of them."

"I don't pity you," he says. "I am just trying to understand you."

"Why?" You finish the bun and drop your arms awkwardly at your sides. 

"It's important to understand your ally."

"Oh. Is that what we are?"

His eyes narrow. "Obviously. I wouldn't bother wasting my time with this every day if we weren't."

"Good to know you aren't doing it because you owe me."

"You know what I mean, Twix," he growls. 

"No, I don't." You throw your arms up. "I don't know what you mean and I don't know why you never killed me because you had every reason to, and I definitely don't understand you, so I guess we make terrible allies, Ghost."

"What is with you?" He cocks his head to the side, tone mild with curiosity. "So talkative all of the sudden."

"I have no problem talking when the other person isn't blatantly ignoring me."

His brows lift. "Fair enough."

A deep inhale flares your nostrils before you spread your stance. "I'm ready now."

Despite your claim of readiness, he quickly backs you into a defensive position that has you frustrated once again. You don't understand why, but your progress slips. You keep having to adjust your stance and all of your attempts to hit him fail. It's not long before he locks you against a tree with a tattooed forearm against your neck. 

"You aren't focused today," he accuses.

"Damn, you're observant," you breathe out. 

"Jesus fucking Christ. If I wanted to listen to someone mouthing off, I'd get Blue out here." He presses a bit harder and your throat twitches. "I'm not going to threaten you anymore, but clearly, you think straighter when you channel your anger, so whatever you were dreaming about last night— get it out of your head."

He's right. You breathe deep and try sorting through everything in your head, focusing on just the anger, but it's like fishing in murky water. When he releases you, more of the same happens. This time, you end up on your butt. Ghost glares down at you, circling like a vulture.

"You were doing good the past few days. What the hell is this?"

"I told you," you say through your teeth, brushing off the dirt from your jeans. "Letting out my anger means letting everything else in the box out and it is... confusing me. Making my head fuzzy, I guess."

His chest expands with a deep breath and his pointed stare turns meticulous. "Explain this box to me."

You hesitate for a moment. "It's just... where I put away all of the shit that would otherwise make me insane."

"And what is wrong with being a little insane, Twix? This world is insane. Might as well match it."

Your mouth opens, then closes. You struggle for an answer and rub your temples. "I don't know. Being insane means losing myself completely. I mean, I have already changed so much in the past five years. Like I said, I was never meant to be this person."

"What person? A person who survives? A person who does what she has to?"

"A person who hurts others," you grit out. "A person who kills." 

"You've killed people, right?" he roughly asks and you nod. "Then you're a killer. You were always meant to be a killer. End of story." His words strike you, and you begin to shake your head defensively, but he continues before you can muster a reply. "The past five years haven't changed you, they have revealed who you are. Now—" he raises his fists, "—open the stupid box and turn everything you feel into anger. All of it. It is valuable fuel that will continue to keep you alive."

He swings.

A kaleidoscope of long-ignored memories flashes through your brain when he hits your sore stomach. Your family. Your friends. The life stolen from you. 

And then— you recover your footing and slam a boot into his knee. It loosens his stance just enough for you to throw yourself at him, effectively knocking him over. The ground welcomes your bodies again, but this time, you grip his shoulders and wind up on top, practically laying all of your weight on him. A few harsh breaths expel from your nose before you become fully aware of the position, the heat from his chest pressing into your breasts.

Quickly, you splay your hands flat against him and sit up straight, thighs spread over his narrow hips. Ghost could easily flip you over and pin you if he wanted. But instead, he crosses his arms behind his head. 

"Comfortable?" you ask him breathlessly, raising a brow.

"Quite. Though, if this were real, I suggest an elbow to the neck once you've got them down."

"So you admit it, then. I got you down."

"I allowed it."

"Sure." Your teeth snag on your lip and you lightly brush a finger over his masked nose, detecting a tick in the hinge of his jaw. "Then I will 'allow' you to keep this for now, but next time, I might do more than just break it."

His eyes widen imperceptibly before he quickly recovers. "Ah. So you are a person who hurts others, then. Someone was trying to tell me otherwise."

Your lips twitch at the corner on their own accord. "Shut the fuck up."

He simply stares at you for a pregnant pause before clearing his throat. "I did allow it, but that was good. You focused on the anger, didn't you?"

You nod. "Yeah, I did. Is that what you do all the time?" you ask curiously. "Just get angry and kill people?"

"Pretty much."

By the tone of his voice, a deep brass that reverberates through all the places your bodies touch, you are certain he's joking. Realizing that you are still on top of him, you push off his chest and swing a leg over, careful not to knee his face or let him see the deep flush that crawls over every inch of your skin. 

[thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask]

We need facts about YANDERE CREEPYPASTA ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU!!! Only if you want to and take your time. I just got really excited hearing this as I love zombie movies

Something Short (Zombie AU Introduction)

Author's Note: I've had this AU idea for months, but I just never got to it.

Warnings: Murder, Torture, Sexual Harrasment, Kidnapping, Human Trafficking (Mentions), Mental Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Human Experiments, Gore, Physical Abuse, Manipulation, Dehumanization, Sadism, Being Held To Extremely High Standards, Dictatorship, And Obession

Ok, so. I picture the virus that caused the whole outbreak to be a mixture between the walking dead zombies, and the Train to Busan zombies, you know.

Now, you're pretty much one of the few who survived the outbreak. You and your two brothers are wondering around looking for a permanent place of residence. You found one society, but it was destroyed soon after you got there.

In this AU, EJ is the leader of a cannibalistic city. They live in a heavily fortified town somewhere in Pennsylvania. EJ is the doctor and leader of this colony. One day you and your brothers get kidnapped by a few of their members, and you only survived because EJ took an interest in you. Your brothers were kept alive as a way to keep you in line, but you knew they were barely surviving.

One day, your brothers escaped, leaving you behind. Once you escape, your main motivation is reuniting with your brothers, or at least find out what happened to them.

You were trapped with EJ for about 8 months, and those months were hell. Unlike my other AUs and Canon were EJ puts up a fake mask of kindness and care, Zombie AU EJ is heartless right off the bat. It's the end of the world, you either do what he tells you, or you're tonight's dinner. So, you're now labeled as his pet, even the other civilizations know about you, the poor pet of Cannubal King. You would constantly be a victim to his twisted experiments, but after each one he'd comfort you. His constant switched in personality and behavior is what makes you have a blurred perspective of him. In this AU, EJ is the one you're most terrified of, not the Proxies.

Now, the Proxies are opportunist. They are the people in the apocalypse to kill, kidnap and sell people as a way to make it buy. They're the most dangerous to look for because they're doing anything to survive. After 8 months past, you're able to escape. You end up wondering around for about 3 days before you find a little shed in the woods. When you get there, the shed is filled with a decent amount of food and water. However, as you inspect a small can, you're whacked in the head with a crow bar. When you wake up, three men are standing in front of you. They all discuss what their going to do to you before they agree to keep you. The Proxies are no stranger to keeping pets, but each one of them have died in someway, and you're just another replacement. Out of all the proxies though, Toby ends up becoming completely in love and obsessed with you, while Masky and Hoodie have a more possessive, sexual obsession with you.

Ben is the leader of a tech society. His society was able to keep electricity and tech running, making the most advanced civilization. However, getting in is extremely hard, and being a citizen there sucks. Ben is a dictator. If you hold no use to him, you're getting sent out into the heard. You disobey or betray him, sent to the Cannibal Colony. And not to mention, he had eyes and ears everywhere. Everyone in the city has to do their part if they want to stay, and if you don't, Oh well. Also, being one of Ben's favorites sucks even more. If he likes you for your skill or talent, he holds you to an impossible standard, and he enjoys to watch those people try so hard to meet it. No one is ever good enough for him, and he'll gladly torture those who can't obey. If he likes you for his sexual desires, you're running on his schedule. He expects you to do your own work, and fulfill his desires.

So, how do you two meet? You actually met back when you were with EJ. Just like in every AU, Jeff, EJ, and Ben are all really close friends, and EJ paid a visit to Ben in order to collect new Tech. There you caught Ben's eyes. Ben joked with EJ, saying that if he ever got bored of you, he'll gladly take you. He would never hide his stares, and always made his intentions with you painfully clear. He would never do anything to you physically since he likes and respects EJ to much, but he meant what he said when he told EJ that he'd take you if he didn't want you anymore.

LJ is a loner, but what he does is kinda weird. LJ stays in a abandoned fair ground. Rides and attractions are still up. Thanks to Ben, LJ is able to keep the tech working, and it often attracts wonders. LJ collects walkers and uses them for his circus shows. Anyone who stumbles upon his grounds are welcomed to stay. So, there's often people hanging out there because, 1, free food, 2, fun rides, 3, protection from walkers, and 4, entertainment. Once there's enough people, LJ holds a circus show. In this show, LJ summons a gas that drugs everyone for a short period of time. During this time, LJ takes some members of the audience, steals everyone's weapons, and ties them down to their chairs. Then, he uses the people he kidnapped for his twisted little show. Some people would be eaten by walkers, others would be forced to do extremely dangerous stunts, and the rest would just be brutally tortured. But at the end of the show, everyone in the tent would be dead. Now rinse and repeat, and that's what LJ does.

You and your brothers came across LJ's circus, but you guys left after a short while, not aware that you almost lost your lives.

Liu are kinda like mercenary. Liu gathers Intel for other groups, kidnaps people, and sells people just to get by. He's never in one place for too long, and many fall for his charm and charisma. His most consistent client is Ben, and Ben considers him a member of his city, even though Liu begs to differ.

How did you two meet? Jeff had dragged Liu to the proxies place due to the Proxies not keeping the end of a deal they made. You were watching from a top the stairwell when Liu noticed you. Liu is a hard-core sadist and doesn't really care about love or sex, violence his thing due to Sully's influence. But I can see him instantly falling for you. I feel like before Sully manifested, Liu was such a lover boy, but I can see him always being a blunt and manipulative bastard. Despite Jeff being Liu for support, Liu just stared at you as you sat ontop of the stares quietly, hoping that he would take his eyes off you.

Jeff is another wonderer. He could deadass care less about the apocalypse. He's normally by himself, in a cabin, either getting high or murdering people he comes across. He's deadass chilling.

Just like Ben, Jeff met you through EJ. Jeff doesn't really have any feelings towards you at the moment since he doesn't pay much attention to you, but that will slowly change.

QNow, last major plot idea. Since EJ is a doctor, and Ben is the tech guy, I can see the two of them looking for a cure to the virus. But, they often use random people as experiments for these. Back when you were with EJ, you were forced to witness them, and in one test, the person starting to develop sores and bumps all over their body, and it got so bad that they ended up swelling up like a balloon.

[luveline]

Jade! I was re reading your zombie au steve fics and I just love our bestie eddie and jealous steve in tbem so much:’) I would love to see more of their relationship love you!!!

love u ♡ steve zombie au. fem!reader

“Would you mind fucking off?” Steve asks. 

Eddie tsks under his breath, “You know, this whole jealousy thing you have over me is kind of sexist.” 

Steve could melt metal with the way he's feeling. “It's not sexism, I'm not jealous, and if I were, it wouldn't be over you, it would be of you.” 

Eddie grins. “That's all you had to say, baby.” 

You laugh but quickly stop, eyes darting to Steve's as you push Eddie away from you. It honestly makes it worse, not because you aren't allowed to sit with your (Steve shudders) friend, and not because it doesn't feel good to see you so quick to remove Eddie from your side, but because by doing so, you've proven to Steve that you are, in fact, aware of his jealousy. 

“I'm not jealous!” Steve lies. 

“And I'm not interested,” you say quickly. “Sorry.” 

Eddie shrugs and sits right back next to you in the grass. He kind of has to, considering the knot he's trying to teach you to tie needs demonstration, but still. Steve hopes he ties the knot around one of his fingers and needs an emergency amputation. 

“Jealousy is a horrible thing,” Eddie says, almost like he can hear Steve's thoughts. “Have you considered finding a friend for Y/N to be jealous of?” 

“I already did that for a bit,” you say, squinting at the shoelace in your hand unhappily, “but then she made me cry and Steve bought me cherries and I didn't worry about it again.” Ah, Vanessa. Old camp, old friend, you told Steve she was making fun of you and he never looked her in the eye again. 

He'd quite like it if you followed his lead, but Vanessa was a bully, and Eddie, to Steve's dismay, is a good friend. 

“So what I'm hearing,” Eddie says, his grin audible, “is I get to make Steve cry.” 

“Are you gonna–?” Steve asks you. 

You sigh and shove Eddie away again. He actually pretends to fall onto his side in the grass. “This is really impeding my progress in becoming a knot tying expert, Stevie. Are you sure we can't kiss and have you get over it?” 

Steve is jealous, but lots of the outward symptoms he shows are either from a want to be immature or just to make you laugh. He trusts you completely and doesn't think for a moment you'd ever, ever cheat. He even knows —deep down— that Eddie's a good guy who'd never do that to him. But it still rubs Steve just the tiniest bit the wrong way when he sees Eddie's pinkie finger brush yours as he corrects you, or your stupid matching coats. 

You and Steve used to have matching coats until your sleeve tore on a branch. Steve decides he has a vendetta against trees, and then he takes a few calming breaths. 

“How would us kissing help Steve get over it?”

“Not you!” you laugh. 

Steve loves the sound so much he pretty much forgets what he's annoyed about. “Sound more disgusted,” he encourages cheerily. 

“I'd never kiss him,” you say, tying the string around your two fingers and pulling the aglet through the loop you've made. Your wrinkled nose smooths as you check your knot against Eddie's, and then, in one of your cutest moments to date, you gasp and turn straight to Steve. “I did it!” 

“What was I impeding again?” he asks. 

You push your foot out with your over complicatedly tied laces and turn onto your thigh. He's a genius (he knows you better than he knows anyone, past or present, knows you better than he knows himself), anticipating your movement with his arm already out to welcome you for a victory hug. “Our laces will never need tying again,” you say.

“Except when you need to change your socks,” Eddie says.

Steve puts his middle finger up behind your back, nosing at your forehead. “You're amazing.” 

You really want the hug. Your hands meet behind his back and your lips brush his throat as you press in close, his lovely girl; you don't know how lovely you are, how the exact details of your hug play out in his mind frame by frame. He's made a million mistakes and he still gets to have you. 

You hug him and it's like the end of the world didn't happen. 

Eddie scratches his scalp. “Harrington, not that I think you'd be into this, but I've been tying that knot for the last year, and nobody ever kissed me for it.” 

“He hasn't kissed me,” you say. 

“Don't stomp on a downed man,” Eddie says severely. Then, sweeter, “Just a quick one, Stevie.” 

“A whole camp of people,” Steve says to you. “Any best friend you want. Hell, I'll share Robin.” 

“You do share Robin,” you say, languishing in his hug much longer than he was expecting you to, your arms having curled tighter now around him with no signs of letting go. 

Eddie Munson might have a crush on you. He might have a crush on Steve, too, or neither of you. The boy’s too jovial to tell. Steve will sleep better at night if he believes the latter though, so he marks the hug for your achievement with a kiss pressed softly to your forehead and decides for the hundredth time since you came here that he won't be jealous anymore. He has nothing to be scared of and he knows that, so why give Eddie a hard time.

Eddie smirks and closes his eyes. “M'waiting.” 

Steve puts his arm over your shoulder. “And you'll wait more.” He turns to you, murmurs, “How about we go and find you something sweet?” 

Eddie's lips part in disgust. “What kind of dirty talk is that?” 

You stand and kick Eddie without force in the thigh. “Thank you for teaching me, Eddie. Same time tomorrow?” 

Eddie drops his theatrics. “Sure. Let's do the next one Risky Business style.” 

You pull Steve away by the hand. He thinks you sorta like that he's jealous, being the object of his attention and affection at all, so he says, “If you leave me for him I'm gonna let a bachelor take me out, and not for dinner.” 

“A bachelor couldn't get its teeth through all this muscle,” you say, squeezing his arm.

Doesn't make a lick of sense, geeks only have to break the skin to get you, but it doesn't matter. “I love you,” he says happily. 

You lean into his side heavily as you walk. “I love you, too. More, for sure.” 

“Not a chance.” 

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

Conventionally beautiful yanderes like Amai Mask who find their Darling's browser history and are just baffled by their interest in monsterfucking and hentai games. Like "You don't want me but you're masturbating to a giant zombie-looking spider monster, I demand an explanation"

Meanwhile the gremlins like Tomura are like "BAAAASED, I play this game all the time. I'll unlock all the animations for you and then I'll fuck you while we watch them"

[alicerosejensen]

Idk if you’re taking requests but what about RE6 onwards Leon with reader who is much younger (early twenties)? I think it would be sooo cute

If someone has requests, then I accept everything! I have practically no topics that trigger me, so if someone wants to see some headcanon, then I will gladly try to fulfill his desire)

To be honest, Leon was 36 years old at the time of re6, and if the reader is twenty… for me, 16 years is a small age difference because I literally know a couple with many children, who have an age difference of a little more than twenty years, and they live together perfectly. it makes me believe in love.

There comes a moment when, probably, it was worth realizing that the woman who was being chased for more than twenty years was just a love interest and beckoned only with her mystery and flirtation.

It's unpleasant, but Leon came to this conclusion almost immediately after Lanshiang. The last night with Ada put all the dots in their strange relationship.

It was as if Leon had received a sobering slap in the face that brought him back from heaven to earth. On the other hand, Ada will forever remain a part of the history of his life, but not of the future, but only of the past.

Some part of him wanted to take care of someone close, despite all the fear and risks. Every living being wants to love and be loved in return.

But Leon was still afraid to take risks, however, he was not averse to having lunch with a beautiful girl who did not refuse a free dinner.

At some point, a free dinner for you and a quiet conversation with a person, not a zombie for him, turned into a series of pleasant dates and gifts in the form of fruit baskets to your rented apartment.

You liked Leon, but you understood that he was…a little older than you… Actually, for as many as 15-16 years, but he definitely wasn't fit to be a father yet. The actual question was, what did he want from you?

Does he just want to have sex with a young girl? Well, then you let him know that this number will not work with you.

You already want to close the door in his face before he suggests the usual walks. Just talking. Without dirty hints or suggestions from which you could slap him a ringing slap in the face.

He is glad that for some reason you agreed (because you found him interesting yourself), and conversations with you bring him to his senses, making him believe that there is still something to fight for in this world.

Previously, your meetings were held in crowded places, but after a couple of months you ventured to invite him to your place and treated him to lunch. "It's not Italian pasta from a professional chef, but I hope you don't die of poisoning". Leon laughs, encouraging you that your food is more edible than what he can cook.

More and more Leon finds himself fascinated by you as a person. He likes to listen to how your day went, to see your smile, something blooms in him when you are next to him.

You really look like an angel sent to him by heaven. He does not believe in God, but it seems to him that a real blessing is in front of him.

Leon will take the initiative of the first kiss when he realizes that he is in love. This is the first time he's worried about your age difference even though he hopes you won't push him away.

He's a broken man. Therefore, when you reciprocate him, something inside him clicks, triggering like a switch. Leon will wrap his hands around your face, deepening the kiss, but will not go further if you are not ready for more intimacy yet.

He thinks you're too perfect.

He likes to give you sudden compliments and watch you blush. I think he will specifically shower you with various pleasant epithets so that you are embarrassed.

The tone of his voice is always filled with love. Leon likes to hug you from behind when you're cooking or doing something. However, he completely goes crazy when you start taking the initiative and, for example, hugging him. Then don't even hope to escape from his strong arms. "You wanted hugs yourself, but I refuse to let you out of them".

He seriously won't let you out. Instead, he will kiss the top of your head and stroke your back, holding you tightly to him, as if afraid that you will be taken away.

"You mean a lot to me." - The thumb strokes the skin of the cheek. - Tell me if you don't want any serious relationship. I'm often away from home, I'm much older than you…damn it, the last reason should be more than enough for me to leave you and my fucking feelings. I don't want to force you into anything, so if you're not sure or don't want to, then I'll understand everything.

You cover his lips with an uncertain kiss, hoping that such an answer will suit him. Pulling away just to press against his forehead while your warm palms hold his face.

This answer will suit him perfectly.

Leon's defender mode is clearly activated.

At first, he will come to your house to have dinner and spend time in your company, but he will constantly comment that there is barely enough space in this "cardboard box" for one person, let alone two.

A subtle hint that his girlfriend moved in with him.

He will help you move all your things. In fact, despite the vastness of his apartment, Leon admits that it is too empty, but hopes that you will fill the space. In truth, he wants it himself. Now he had a good reason to come home as soon as possible.

When you're not too busy, he'll distract you from your studies.

You can tell Leon a hundred times that you love him, but everything you do for him (even if it's insignificant little things for you) makes him love you much more. However, what he definitely doesn't want is for you to see him in a broken state.

Leon hates thunder and lightning. It reminds him of a traumatic childhood, pulls out the memory of Raccoon City, so he will leave the warm bed so as not to wake you up and go to the kitchen trying to overcome another nightmare.

The last thing he wants is someone to comfort him. He couldn't save a lot of people, he lost someone all the time and still can't forgive himself for the death of the president. You are his sun, while he is just a shadow. Leon is not going to pour out all the shit that happened to him on you, but you are just a real blessing that takes away his pain when you press your chest against his broad back, kissing the skin covered with goosebumps.

Are you so worried about his condition? Leon would prefer not to bother you, but the way you take a glass of whiskey from his hands, sit next to him on the bar stool, remove the bangs from his face to see how broken he is.

Tears are not weakness! You cover Leon's face with a lot of gentle kisses, hugging him to you, whispering various endearments in his ear. "If you need my support, then you will get it"

Taking care of him does something to his heart, but it's not something terrible. On the contrary, Leon wants to return this love to you in double size, so be prepared for manifestations of tenderness. What is completely normal and natural for you, for Leon is very expensive. In addition, you are the first woman in a very long time who stays with him in bed after sex, and in the morning cooks him breakfast, because Ada never stayed with him for more than one night.

And he is grateful to you.

"Will you stay with me?" - A request that sounds almost like a mantra when he sits you down on the table, hugging you under the hips. - "I know I'm old for you, but I want you to be mine. Tell me you want it to… Because if you want to leave later, I won't be able to let you go."

Now you are in the same boat with him, but we must admit that if this boat sinks, he will do everything to pull you ashore. Understand how you want. If earlier he could still agree to a meeting with Ada while your relationship was in limbo, now he belongs entirely to you in body and soul. Leon knows that you are too young, but he hopes and trusts that your fellow students will not become your love interest. You promised him.

He likes to give you gifts, but what he doesn't expect is that you will give him a wristwatch.

"Just a sign of attention. I thought you might like it, but you don't have to wear them if they're not your type".

Your gift is now always on his right hand.

Well, after a long relationship, he decides to put a ring on you and hopes that you will say yes. This is a risk he is willing to take, promising himself that he will protect you in case of danger.

[dope-trope-105]

Self-destructive

Modern Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

A/N: I skipped to I'll Do Anything Aegon and the reader's future relationship, I don't think anyone is surprised by how this turns out, knowing what Aegon is like.

Summary: Cheating, manipulative, intense, self-destructive Aegon cannot change no matter how much he loves you. But he tries. You see his love for you in his jealousy and his violence, but you aren't sure if that's enough.

Warnings: Cheating, violence, mentions and indications of sex, mentions of drugs, blood, angst.

Word Count: 2.5k

Your relationship with Aegon was unconditional and sweet. 

Deep into your relationship, you’d left to go to your parents for a month, literally on a different continent across the world, leaving behind the mess of a person that only your presence kept humane. Aegon cheated on you every single night he went out to a party, which was almost every night of the month. He went back to the heavy drinking, partying, senseless fucking and then living out the day like a zombie until the night. Every day, he'd wake up and remember the moment you two had in your house, how you took care of him in his grotesque state, how he promised to be good. 

Of course, you'd call him and Facetime him from time to time. But it would be a late night for you and noon for him. He'd put on his best show, but he did feel better hearing your voice or seeing your face. You two wouldn’t talk for long, and the moment you'd hang up, Aegon would cry into your shirt. Your things were all over his room, and his infidelity suffocated him. His family was disappointed in him falling off the wagon, but not surprised.

He promised Aemond he'd tell you about it all, but you just looked so happy when you finally saw him at the airport, running straight into his arms. He didn't have the heart to tell you that day. "I missed you so much baby," you squealed. "I missed you too, so fucking much," he said, the widest grin plastered to his face. He handed you the small, brown, stuffed bear he got for you, his eyes gleaming. "You're so cute," you said. 

Aegon decided to bring you straight to his house after that. He could wait another day. He looked at you as you went on and on about what you did, and he was listening so intently he'd never forget a word you said. Alicent hugged you the moment you came into her view, sharing a look with Aegon, who silently pleaded she wouldn't say anything. Nobody told you. Aemond looked disgusted when you finally disappeared into his room for the night, Aegon understood why his brother hated him. But he couldn't have his girl hate him. 

His thoughts completely dissolved into nothing as your arms wrapped around his neck, lips hovering over his until he leaned in, sighing as he felt the comfort of your contact. The sex that day was slow, loving, and none of those other girls came even close to how you felt. You fell asleep soon, the jet lag getting to you. Your body was pressed against his chest, his arms tight around your waist, his hand cupping you breast as you slept peacefully. He'd brush the hair from your face, trace patterns all over your body, warmth filling his chest like nowhere else but how it did in your vicinity. He realised that day, he was alone without you. You were all he had.

You really were all he wanted. You were all he wasn't. You were pure, passionate in your work, and ambitious, you wanted to be an architect, for fuck's sake. "What type of architect do you want to be?" he'd ask you. And you'd go on a rant of every possible major you'd find interesting. You were singularly the best thing to happen to him. And he didn't deserve you one bit.

You turned around, sighing as your half asleep self called for him. "I'm right here baby, I'm right here," he said, your arms coming up to his chest as you basically climbed on top of him. "I'm right here," he whispered again, fingers running through your hair.

Aemond told you the next day at breakfast. "Aegon tell you about the cheating?" he simply asked as you all ate cereal together by their poolside. Both Aegon and Alicent's eyes shot up, your frame completely stilling. Helaena glanced nervously from Aegon to you. "Wha-what?" you stuttered. "Guess he didn't," Aemond shrugged, finishing the last of his breakfast and heading inside. "What's he talking about Aegon?" you asked. Alicent and Helaena left the table as Aegon began to explain. They watched from the living room as your shock turned to borderline agony. 

By the time he was finished, you held your head in your hands, sobbing so hard you could barely breathe. "Baby I realise now-" he started, "Shut up," you said. You got up from the seat, tears streaming down your face. He stood up, grabbing your wrist. "Please, baby, just listen to me," he said, but you yanked your hands from him. "Fuck you," you cried. "You-you said, you said I was all you-" You couldn't complete your sentence as you completely broke down, letting him wrap his arms around you as you wailed into his chest. 

"I knew-knew I shouldn't have been with you," you said in between cries. You were in so much pain, that Aegon wanted to kill himself. "You are all I want," he said again, trying to soothe you. "Liar," you said, still not pushing him away. "They didn't mean anything, all I saw was you, all I wanted was you," he told you, cradling you in his arms as your tears fell, whimpers falling from you at his words. "Why would you fuck them if you wanted me," you asked, not daring to lift your head because you knew, the moment you looked into his eyes, it would disgust you and you’d want to leave, but his arms were the only thing holding you together, you had no one else who would support you if you left his arms. "All I wanted was you, baby," he said again. And you didn't know why you listened to him, but you did. You let him soothe your aching heart. You let him comfort you, and you let him remain in your life. 

You holed up in his room the whole day after that, and he sat beside you. Aegon silently gazed at you as your hands fiddled with the bear he got you. Time and again, you would start sobbing, holding the bear close to you chest. You'd move away if he got too close, but you knew he was aware of your sheer vulnerability, that despite it being nauseating, you needed his presence. You hated him but he was all that held you together. 

"How could you do it so many times?" you finally asked. "Mindless sex was all I knew before I met you," he said. "Wow, so that's how it is. I leave for one day and you cheat on me?" you asked, your voice thick and sore. "It wasn't one day," he whispered, and you scoffed. "I don't know which one of us is more pathetic," you said, your words cutting Aegon like a knife. "I'm a fucked up person, but I can't be without you," he said, hand reaching for your leg, which you pulled back, folding your legs and bringing your knees to your chest. "I hate you," you said, eyes closing as you felt your tears fall again.

"I'm all you have here," he said quietly, speaking the bitter truth as he looked up at you. "What?" you said, voice cracking. "You're all I want, and I'm all you have," he said, and he pulled you to him. You let him. "We're made for each other, stupid mindless sex with random chicks can't change that," he said, pulling you onto his lap. You opened your mouth to speak but he beat you to it. "I know, baby, I know. You're holier than thou, you don't like parties or drugs, but I do, and I shouldn't change that for a relationship that is meant to be," he said, fingers removing your hair from your face. He wiped your tears.

"What the fuck are you saying?" you asked. "That I'm yours, and I didn't cheat on you because that wasn't my intention. I was just filling my time," he said. "Infidelity is a hobby now?" "no, sex is," "Where is this coming from?" you asked in disbelief.

"Will you break up with me?" he asked. You hated herself as you shook your head. "You can't do this again. Mindless or not, I won't be in a relationship if I'm not respected," you said. But you felt your self-esteem slipping away as he nodded, kissing away your tears. The sex was raw that day, raw with emotion. Your self-hate, your love for Aegon, your confusion, all of that was fucked out of you, time and again until you passed out. You slept away the night on his chest. You woke up early the next morning, and Aegon dropped you back home.

Your relationship with Aegon wasn’t unconditional and sweet anymore.

Aegon would be too tired to drop you at Uni, no matter how much he insisted on driving you everywhere, but he'd always be there to pick you up. He had gone here as well, and he had a reputation. People would whisper as he'd come into sight. Your roommate, Bailey, was nice, you made a few friends, but that was the extent. Most guys stayed off you, they avoided you like the plague. All except a guy named Edgar. Edgar Tyrell was a classic A-grade asshole. 

You would usually sit at an unassigned-assigned seat outside the building, doing your studying. And Edgar would always find himself hovering around you. He'd wolf-whistle as you’d walk by, his mates shoving him or shushing him. He'd walk by your seat making obscene gestures. You ignored him, it was harmless enough, you thought. And then you found yourself crying in Aegon's arms when you opened your phone one day to find your face very obviously photoshopped on a porn actress giving head. It was meant to be a joke, the tweet below it said, "boutta see you like dis soon baby," by Edgar and you were tagged. Your socials flooded after that. Aegon didn't say anything, he only you as you cried herself to sleep. 

The next day, you dressed in a simple outfit, black full sleeve top, blue jeans, black boots, and a scarf to cover the dark purple trail of hickeys Aegon left the day before yesterday. You tied your hair into a simple pony and did some makeup. "Bye baby," you said, kissing Aegon's sleeping form. Aegon's driver dropped you as you had stayed the night. You attended your first two classes and went to your seat outside. You sipped on a smoothie as you tried to study, but only stared off into space, almost wincing everytime you noticed someone whispering, knowing full well it was about you. You opened twitter to see some people were thinking that you were actually in a relationship with that slimy fuck. And with the universe playing on the worst of your fears, he strolled into the park whistling.

"You saw my tweet last night?" he asked, looking like the ugliest fucker ever. Some of his friends sat a little far away on one of the hedges, looking over cautiously. You wondered if they ever actively tried to stop him. Your attention was brought back to him as he grabbed your jaw.

"When are you gonna put the pretty mouth around me baby?" he asked. "Don't touch me," you spat, yanking his hand off your face. 

"She speaks, gentlemen," he mocked.

And then he yelped as he was grabbed by the back of his collar and thrown onto the ground. His shock dissolved into screams of pain as Aegon punched him repeatedly. His face was a bloody mess by the time you actually got up. "Aegon?" you asked, unphased by the violence but confused by his presence. You didn't get too close. You’d seen Aegon in bar fights. No reason to involve yourself. But the crowd that had gathered around them was too much for you.

"Aegon, baby it's fine," you said, slowly reaching for him. "Aegon," you said, and he finally stopped, turning around to look at her with eyes blown wide in anger.

"It was just a joke, he's harmless," you said, grabbing his bloody fists.

"Harmless?" he scoffed in disbelief. He kicked Edgar on his stomach. Spitting on him the blood in his mouth, only injury he managed to cause Aegon.

"And what the fuck are you wearing this for?" he asked her, yanking away your scarf.

"Let them see you're mine." he said.

He walked away, hand dipping into his jacket to take out a flask. Your fingers lightly brushed over the trail of hickeys he left on you, knowing they spread across your breasts and thighs too. Aegon was a master of his art, and by that you meant bruises, either hickeys spread all over your body, or on the faces of guys who thought they could fuck with him. You looked down at Edgar, groaning in pain. You crouched, pretending to comfort him. You moved some of the hair stuck on his face. "Told you not to touch me," you simply said, getting up and packing your things. The crowd dissipated once you left. You walked in Aegon's direction, finally finding him leaning on his car as he smoked a cigarette. He looked much more calm and collected than how he did five minutes ago. He watched you walk to him.

"What the fuck was that Aegon?" you asked, snatching your scarf from him and adjusting it.

"Why do you have to hide that?" he asked, gazing at you as she tried to cover each and every hickey.

"What, so my professors can look at them and phone home for fucking abuse?" you asked.

"Why are you so mad?" he asked.

"You beat a guy bloody for me," you sighed.

"I did, and I'd do it again, the fucker doesn't get to make my princess cry," he said, flicking off the cigarette as he grabbed you by the waist.

"I'm calling Aemond," you sighed, pulling away from him.

"What's that twat got to do with anything?" he asked, removing the scarf much more carefully this time, pressing small kisses on all the hickeys he could spot. You sighed at the feeling.

"Stop," you said. "I saw your cocaine stash this morning, the one you promised me you got rid of," you said, tensing when he stilled. But then he continued, kissing you on the delicate spot between your neck and collarbone.

"I forgot baby, I'll throw it out today," he said.

"Two things, Aegon, no drugs and no cheating, that's all I ask," you said.

"And I give them to you, along with a thousand other things you don't ask for," he said, now sucking harshly, almost making you moan out in the feeling.

"Aegon, we can't do this on uni grounds," you said, feeling his hard-on on your thigh.

"Watch me," he said. Opening the front door of his car and completely leaning back the seat before lying on it,  following his word despite your hesitation, his ever-obedient girlfriend. The tinted windows hid you two, but you doubted your sounds would be muffled.

[sleepingpillscosmos]

Howdy! Can I request yuuji + please don't ask if I'd still love you if you turned into a zombie👀

SILLY QUESTIONS — yūji itadori

pairing: yūji itadori x fem!reader.

warnings/content: yūji is too sweet. movie nights. established relationship. let's just ignore that I literally invented a plot just for this fic.

wc: 1.4k.

requested: yes, by anon.

a/n: I love yūji with all my heart i swear. he's such a sweetheart. hope you'll enjoy this!

prompt: "please don't ask if I'd still love you if you turned into a zombie"

You entered the convenience store with Yūji, an obligatory stop before going back to jujutsu high to start your usual movie night.

"What do you want to buy?" he asked as you navigated the little shop, which you both knew like the back of your hand since you went there once a week.

"It's your turn to choose," you reminded him, squeezing his hand slightly. "I already did twice in a row"

It was some kind of unspoken agreement, one chose the film and the other the snacks. Yūji didn't really care as long as he could cuddle with you and hold you close, so he often let you choose both. After all, he liked nearly every kind of food and drink, so he could easily go along with anything you chose.

"I'm already choosing the film," he stopped in front of the snack section and turned his gaze on you, smiling softly. "I don't mind if you pick the food once again"

You shook your head in disagreement. He sighed, knowing that even if he insisted he couldn't change your mind, and looked at all the snacks he could choose. There were a few interesting options he wanted to try, but then his eyes landed on your favourite and, knowing how much you loved it, he grabbed the package without hesitating.

"No, not that one" you said with a frown on your face. It seemed stupid on the outside, but for once you wanted him to be a little selfish, even for a silly thing like choosing what to eat.

"What? You said I could choose" he argued back immediately.

"You think I'm stupid? I won't let you choose my favourite" he didn't really think he could get away with it that easily, but trying never hurt anyone.

"I didn't even know it was your favourite. I truly want this one, I swear" he knew the lie wasn't that convincing, even more when you raised your eyebrows and looked at him skeptical. "...please?"

You sighed and reluctantly nodded. This was one of the things about him that you both loved and hated. He always put everyone else's needs and lives in front of his own, which was okay, but he was too often totally selfless.

Once you grabbed your drinks too, chocolate milk for Yūji and normal milk for you, you went to the checkout, where the old lady who ran this store was waiting for you two. She was smiling as always and greeted you both like you were her beloved grandchildren. 

Yūji insisted on paying, just like every other day, but for once you convinced him to let you do it.

[...]

You emerged through the door to Yūji's room, already in your pyjama, which consisted of an old pair of sweatpants and one of your boyfriend's hoodies, ready to finally start your movie night. 

Yūji was waiting for you, laying on his bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone, which he immediately put away once he saw you.

"So, what are we watching tonight?" you asked, laying beside him. You moved a bit, trying to find the comfiest position. You happened to find it when you hugged Yūji, your head using his shoulder as a pillow, with one of your legs on his hip and the other tangled with his.

"Apocalypse. I already watched it like five times, but it's really good" you hummed in response. You didn't really like the same genre of films, but he never whined about your choices. Actually, you didn't really care about the film as long as you got to spend some time alone with him.

He started the film, then he adjusted himself to be comfortable as well. One of his arms circled you and his hand started to draw imaginary lines up and down your back, while the other one grabbed your leg that was resting on him, putting it higher on his body so that he could rest his hand on your thigh.

[...]

The film was... interesting. 

Not your genre at all. But you loved seeing Yūji so excited about it. He definitely saw it more than five times, he knew most of the lines by heart, making you chuckle every time he talked with the characters on the screen.

Now you were still laying in bed all cuddled, you chose another film to put on, but neither of you were watching it. You both were too engrossed in softly caressing each other, sharing sweet pecks and laughing at your silly inside jokes.

"Okay, I need to ask you something. And so you know, I'm totally serious about it" you said, moving your head so that you could properly look at him, suddenly becoming really serious. He looked back at you, a bit confused by your sudden mood change. Then it all came to his mind.

"Please don't ask me if I'd still love you if you turned into a zombie." he sighed.

"But would you?" you responded immediately. At this point it was a matter of life and death to you.

"You already asked me if I would still love you if you turned into a worm," he initiated, "And I explained to you that it was possible, just like in human earthworm four, but really difficult. I mean you saw the film, so you know"

He was avoiding the question, he hoped you wouldn't notice, but you surely did as all you did was narrow your eyes, still waiting for his response. He sighed once again.

"Listen, I saw this film where the two protagonists were in love during an apocalypse. At first everything was alright, as much as it can be during a time like that, but then the girlfriend got bit. She wanted him to kill her before she turned into a zombie, but he didn't want to. He wanted to pass her last moments together. So they made a pact: immediately after she turned into a zombie, he had to kill her. But once she turned, he didn't have the courage to do it because he loved her too much. So he decided to take her with him all the time, even if she was a zombie. For obvious reasons, it didn't work out and she ate his brain," you remember him telling you about this film and how heartbreaking it was for him, but you didn't stop him as he talked, just to see where he wanted to get. "So it actually doesn't matter if I would still love you or not, all you would do is try to eat me and turn me into a zombie too"

"I get it, don't worry. You wouldn't love me, but it's okay Yūji." you said, pretending to be really hurt just to play with him a bit. You turned, facing the other side of the room, and wiggled your way to put space between your bodies.

Yūji looked like a kicked puppy, obviously he would still love you, he always did and will always do, but maintaining a relationship with a zombie just wasn't realistically possible.

He circled your body with his arms, pressing his chest into your back, and pressed a gentle kiss on your neck before he sighed again. You bit your cheeks, trying to fight a smile and maintain your hurt expression.

"I would still love you anyway, you know. Even if you turned into a cloud or into a blade of grass. You would always be my love" he confessed, making you almost cry at his sweet and caring words.

"We would make the cutest zombie couple." you stated, closing your eyes as you were finally ready to sleep in the arms of your sweet love. He let out an airy laugh.

"Yeah, you're right" he whispered, following your actions as you drifted off into a deep slumber, where Yūji was about to follow you.

network: @enchantedforest-network.

[tanoraqui]

Dungeon Meshi Liveblog: I think we all know I basically spent these 3 chapters cackling maniacally

In the demon business, we call that BAIT!

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I'm all but wiggling happily. I love a good game of chess. I'm not entirely sure it actually is a game of chess beyond in Kabru's mind.

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OH GOOD HE'S A LITTLE BIT STUPID. This comic really does take care to portray people as badass, hyper-competent, and kinda stupid, all in different ways.

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oh, ALWAYS love a Santa-coded crime boss.

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I appreciate that Kabru's pride is solidly among the things he's 100% willing to temporarily ignore in order to be someone's friend/get them to do what he wants. I like that in a man.

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Interesting - clearly he's being magically influenced, but not so...directly? as to have the hourglass pupils.

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^ words of a man who is about to get his ass, and his entire criminal organization, absolutely WHUPPED by like 6 elves. I suspect the Canaries are underestimating the tallmen and other denizens of this dungeon, because they're arrogant pricks, but the locals are underestimating this elite team of elvish warriors a LOT more. I can't wait to find out what they're actually doing while "sight-seeing." Spreading out into tactical positions, maybe?

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ASS! WHUPPED! omg it's like an evil version of the Wink.

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I want to see this fight animated so fucking bad.

I dunno, Kabru, he clearly uses the combination pretty fucking effectively.

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WHY DO YOU THINK THAT A VISIBLE DEMONSTRATION OF MONSTERS WILL GET THROUGH WHERE WORDS DIDN'T? These people already know there are monsters down here... And at best, of course, a bunch of people will die... But they're just short-lived races so I suppose it doesn't matter :)

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While I do appreciate this dedication to making Mithrun look as cool as possible at all times, sending a giant, zombie-making walking mushroom into the middle of the Level 4 lake is going to be SUCH a disruption to that ecosystem!! Somewhere, Senshi just groaned in pain like Obi-Wan when Alderaan was destroyed.

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Mithrun has recognized that Kabru is going at picking out unusual people in a crowd, and is now using him as a manhandled tool to do so, and I just think that's Neat.

And it works! (So now it's their turn to get their asses handed to them.)

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This chapter cover is giving me a lot of feelings about...love, and families of choice.

Except for how I'm holding Laios in one arm while brandishing a knife at that lion fountain behind him. Get the HELL away from my boy, you tiny manifestation of the granting of wishes, and all you greater ones as well.

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oh are they now? They're definitely canaries in a coal mine, then. Badass and valued for their skills, but disposable. Hmm AU where Marcille...

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oh my god holy shit never mind, it turns out Thistle sucks at this when facing an opponent who isn't caught off-guard.

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It is possible that Mithrun is honestly, earnestly trying to help Thistle? As best he can?

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Sharing food as love!!!

MY GIRL!!

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STILL A TEAM!

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Oh Mithrun actually only has one eye, it's not just dramatic anime effect + hair flop? Hm. Should have a cool scar to make it clearer. I'm impressed with what depth perception he's shown, though, with the teleporting!

Obviously this does mean he ranks up in the Favorite Characters list.

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Kabru: Ooh nice strategy, manipulating all those people in order to manipulate that one person!

Kabru: Wait, right, I still don't like you.

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Yes! Yes! The Kabru's inner desires is OUT! He is impulsively risking this chance to prevent another Utaya - his stated goal, the obvious greater good, definitely very genuinely his primary focus - in favor of demanding the answers he WANTS, and the independence from long-lived elves.

YOU TELL 'EM, BUDDY! TAKE A STAND! BURN YOUR BRIDGES!!

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I appreciate that Mithrun isn't bad at this personal assessment thing.

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brb need to go chew a wall or something!

[oct0bra1ns]

hehehehe what about yandere zombie when reader starts to move on and gains a romantic interest to another survivor

Pairing: Yandere Zombie x reader Tw: manipulation, mentions of bringing harm to others , yanderes, cannibalism notes: ngl, the urge to draw the homie has been immense. reblogs and comments are appreciated!

The other person will simply not survive. Yandere zombie was already pretty anxious about reader finding somebody else and having reader try to pursue someone else is not something they would ever allow.

They'll make sure to get rid of the person, they'll make it painful and they'll make sure to get rid of the person in traditional methods, they won't bite such a disgusting person, they won't allow them to come back in any form but they won't bury the body, not yet.

If the person going missing still doesn't teach you anything about loving anyone else other than them, they will bite you, they'll make sure no one ever bothers coming close to you, make sure their afraid of approaching you. Don't worry, they'll provide everything for you, just as they did when they were alive.

However, if you were rather harsh with them, screaming at them, telling them how much you hate them, they'd be reduce to tears, their anger towards the other person would come back ten times and they start developing an anger towards you, how dare you abandon them, after all the years they spent with you, doing everything for you, this is how you treat them?

They ignore you for days, groaning in anger, slapping your hands away whenever you come near them to stitch their parts back up again.

But slowly their anger would ebb out, they feel guilty, I mean, the other person polluted your mind, it was never your fault. As an offering they cook you a meal, one they know you'll love, after all, the meal contained the sinner that tainted your mind.

[olderthannetfic]

TL;DR: multiple people can arrive at the same fanfic idea/premise in different ways, but also, getting inspired by a different fanfic is not stealing, please don't gatekeep!

I joined a new fandom (it's Resident Evil (RE), which I'm mostly mentioning for that one 'nosy' anon because hell yeah I am super nosy as well, so here you go, dropping some names!), and I quickly stumbled upon one fandom-specific plot trope that I thought was both pretty neat but also super obvious (Infected!Character fic, which, in a world with zombies and viruses that cause zombies is a very logical trope).

Anyway, there was not quite as much body horror as I thought there would be, although I'm still looking, but that's not why I'm writing to you, that's just the (un)necessary background.

There was this one fic that I opened, which in its Author's Note clearly stated that the author set this fanfiction in another author's AU, because they loved the world created by this first author. The first fanfiction author basically came up with their own Infected!Character design and backstory (including fanart), and the second fanfiction author liked it so much they were now writing this fic based on/in that AU. Obviously not quoting the AN directly, but this second author was very complimentary and explicitly mentioned where they got the idea from, gushing about the first author.

In the AN for chapter two, the second author stated that they weren't aware that that first fanfiction author didn't allow others to write about the Infected!Character AU they'd made, that that first author in fact only allowed a very limited number of people they publicly approved of to write about their AU, and nobody else was allowed to touch the Infected!Character AU. This second author was now apologising in the AN for not knowing this, plus mentioning that they changed chapter one to switch up the backstory & design to not be too close to that of the first fanficton author's AU.

That made me sad, honestly. I've seen this attitude a couple of times, where fanfiction authors are super protective of their ideas that they won't allow any other fanfiction author to write about them, and it's always struck me as a little bit hypocritical, given the whole deal of fanfiction. Especially when the original/first fanfiction author is credited and the inspired work is clearly done because the second author loved the first fanfiction so much. If it's a highly developed/specific and original AU (so not just any common trope), and you don't even mention the fanfic you were inspired by, then I find that rude, but just flat out not allowing people to even touch 'your' thing? C'mon!

This partially ties into my other gripe about a specific type of comments I occasionally get, which are along the lines of 'huh interesting idea where did you get it? bc/btw there is this other fic with the same idea (posted before you)'; idk if I got the tone right, but they never seem to be actually genuinely asking how I got the idea (and I always delight in telling them, not sarcastically, I genuinely love talking about this stuff, bc I get inspired by the most random things and I love love writing 'original'/new things!! I love tropes as much as anybody, I read a shitton of them, but i when I write I love coming up with new shit/plot! it's so fun!!). They just vanish after my explanation, even when I try to invite further conversation. It always feels to me like they're 'checking' that I didn't steal the idea, and it feels a bit lousy.

I mean in (larger) fandoms, it is not surprising at all that two or three or even more people arrive at the same idea, maybe even inspired by the same thing, same reading of canon, or not, varied experiences--and just because the works are similar doesn't mean that they were inspired by one another, but if they are, that's not a sin! I just want people to not take everything in bad faith, and also, to not 'disallow' others from getting inspired, especially when they do it in a very polite manner!

It's because of comments like these that I sometimes, very privately, worry that before I'll manage to post the long fic I spent months writing--because I'm one of those who wants the thing finished before I start posting--somebody else will have a similar idea, post their thing first, and then I'll look like I'm lying about not reading/stealing their idea, or just jumping on the bandwagon, which again, it's not a bad thing, actually.

And it shouldn't be like that! I shouldn't worry, and people should also be more willing to accept that authors can arrive at the same idea at (roughly) the same time & accept that explanation without side-eyeing the author, and that if an author is inspired by a different fanfic, that's not a sin either (in fact, for me it would be an honour).

None of this is new either, but that RE stuff reminded me of it again.

Oh man, this is way longer than I thought it would be. Apologies. I'm going to add a TLDR at the start.

Anyway, I'm going to finish writing an Infected!Catboy!Leon fic now and be very unsurprised if I find out that somebody else has had the same idea long before me (aside from one or two reader fic inserts with that topic that I stumbled upon on tumblr, bc that's just not my thing at all (reader insert, I mean)).

--

In college, friends of mine had a falling out over one of them "stealing" the other's fic idea.

Space pirates.

Not specific space pirates. Not a way of integrating the concept that was fandom-specific. No, just the general idea of space pirates in the same fandom.

Never have I facepalmed so hard.

[tiredsurvivoronmain]

Wesker ensuring Chris survives in RE1

It's interesting that Wesker goes out of his way to save and protect Chris when he made it clear that his team was now expendable. (gonna ignore the plot/plot armour and all that here for a sec)

Waiting a second or two and Chris would have been out of the picture, one less member to worry about. He could have also fired and missed to pretend he was making an attempt to save Chris.

Then there's the gun left in the main hall (which was Jill's). Why would Wesker just leave it there and not take it with him? Surely it would have been smarter to take it with him and leave Chris defenceless and vulnerable. He must have known Chris could comeback to look for them (if he hadn't been killed by a zombie). Chris somehow lost his samurai edge as he was running to the mansion, Wesker would have noticed. When he takes Jill captive he left the gun for Chris to find and use.

Leaving notes, items and ammo for Chris outside safe rooms/areas as Chris progresses to help him survive would mean he may have known his whereabouts constantly or left them there on the off chance Chris would pass through the area. One thing in particular is something that has ?? me for a while; if Wesker was trying to be discrete/laying low and avoid his betrayal being known, why even let Chris know it was him helping? Could he have somehow pretended it was Jill leaving the items and make it seem she was okay? "Look for a way out." + "Make sure you can get away." why even write that? He didn't have show concern/pretend to care to keep up appearances, yet he seemed to want Chris to survive or escape instead of simply letting Chris die to a zombie or by Wesker himself killing him. And going out of his way to fix doors for him? That's just encouraging Chris to continue his investigations and survive.

Then the scene with Enrico. It only occurred to me much later that Wesker had actually saved Chris from being shot. Wesker had an opportunity to take them both out, or wait for Enrico shoot Chris and then take care of Enrico himself. It wouldn't have been hard for him to kill them both then and there.

Why go through all the trouble of keeping Chris alive long enough for him to find out the truth? Why want Chris in particular to survive long enough to see the Tyrant and his true motives? Ultimately I believe Wesker had faith in Chris to survive up until the lab moment, I don't think he saw Chris as expendable like the majority of his team and team bravo. If he was he would have made more of an effort to get him killed and wouldn't have helped/saved him. It was important for Chris to see Wesker's true colours. We don't really have much to go on in regards to what their relationship was like before the mansion incident, only by what the novels say and bits and pieces. One thing for sure is that Chris befriended Wesker and they were casual enough with each other for Chris to disregard Wesker's title as captain and calling him by his last name instead of 'captain' or even 'sir'.

Random thing I noticed but liked; in the opening cutscene there's a shot of Wesker aiming his gun to the right then it switched to Chris just after who's aiming his gun to the left, like they're aiming at each other.