#i love infection aus and wanted to do it while not having to stress it alone ykno?

[anonymouscheeses]

Hazbin infection AU (green virus)

All in the name of love.

I'll put full colored comic on my tiktok under: anonymousecheeze

(Once I'm done of course. Which would be, knowing me, probably 900 years)

For now though you can put in asks to know a bit abt this au (if I have the answers. We haven't finished workshopping. Maybe never will lmao)

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 3

part 1 | part 2

(tw: guns, accidental death)

Robin’s already in full panic mode by the time Steve pulls up to her place, flinging the passenger door open and throwing herself into the car with so much force that the car bounces on its wheels a little. “Drive!!”

“Jesus Christ, good morning to you, too.”

“Steve!”

Steve starts to drive.

Beside him, Robin flips the visor down to look at her reflection; groans and scrubs her hands down her face in misery at whatever she sees. Steve doesn’t really get it. He thinks she looks beautiful, with her hair gently moving in the breeze from the open window, with her freckles lit up by the early morning sun.

“Ugh,” she says, turning to look at him, “I can’t believe I look like a zombie and you’re gonna make me late to the first day of school.”

“Wow.” Fuckin’ ingrate. And when he was just being so nice to her in his head. “How about a thank you, huh? ‘Thanks for picking me up, Steve. Thanks for bringing my backpack, Steve. Sorry you almost got shanked by your neighbor, Steve.’”

“You what???”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Um, yes it very much does matter, what the—”

“—I’m just saying, a little gratitude? Wouldn’t hurt you.”

He licks at the corner of his mouth, spritzes wiper fluid to clear the bugs off the windshield. Robin’s eyes are bulging out of her head, but he really doesn’t want to talk about how he still feels the ghost press of steel against his throat, so: “You’re not even right, by the way; I don’t know why you’re complaining.”

“Huh?”

“School started yesterday. I’m making you late for the second day of school.”

“Yesss,” she draws the word out like he’s stupid, rolling her wrist in a hurry up and get it motion, “but everyone knows that syllabus day doesn’t count. The first pep rally is the real first day of school.”

Ah, there it is.

Steve steals another peek at his best friend while they’re on a straightaway, notes the nervous twitch of her hands as she goes back to fussing at her reflection; the way she’s clumping her lashes together with seven coats too many of some drugstore brand mascara. She’s wearing lipstick. “This is about Vick—”

“—Don’t talk about—”

“—It’s about Vickie, isn’t it?”

“Ughhhhh.” Robin folds forward and thunks her head against the dash. “Fine, okay? Fine! Yes! This may have something to do with a distressingly cute fellow marching band member. Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic.”

“Oooh, big word for you, Steven.” She swats him on the shoulder, face all twisted up in offense. “Stop laughing!”

“Stop hitting me,” he laughs. “I’ll dump your ass out on this highway.”

She gasps and narrows her eyes at him. “You wouldn’t.”

Steve eases his foot onto the brake.

“Okay, okay! Mercy! I’m being an asshole, alright? I’m sorry. I’m just— I’m stressed! Being gay is very stressful.”

The knife incident pops back into his mind. “Yeah,” he mutters, “I imagine it is.”

—

He catches himself slouching down into his seat a bit when they pull up to the school. Has to force himself to sit upright, hears his mother’s tutting in his ear about bad posture and the message it projects to the world.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed to be here; really, he isn’t. He’s just hoping to avoid being spotted by the nuggets now that they go here, too, lest he be accosted for evading his chauffeur duties.

God.

Dustin’s nerd shit is infecting his brain.

Robin grabs her bag out of the back seat, plants a parting peck on Steve’s cheek as she gets out of the car. “See you later?”

“Yeah, I’ll pick you up for work.”

“Love you, dingus.”

And then he’s alone again.

With Robin gone, Steve finds himself driving. Wandering and aimless, like a ghost who doesn’t know he’s gone. It’s not like he has nothing to do — he’s supposed to be out finding a second job, finding a way to support himself and his mom, because he’s the man of the house now. Because his life has turned into one of those shitty, overcomplicated word problems from math class.

If a recently widowed mother works no hours and her minimum-wage son works as many as Family Video will allow, how much mold-riddled dogshit housing can they afford?

Not much.

Inevitably, he finds himself circling the scorched bones of Starcourt, driving tired loops around the barbed wire perimeter. His ghost likes to guide him here; can’t shake the place where he shook off the mortal coil.

He didn’t know it at the time, but Steve Harrington died the day the mall burned down. Embarrassing, to not hear the death knell as his family name went up in smoke.

It was hard to hear much at all that night, between the concussion and the fireworks and the shrieking of a monster being torn apart, but the memory caresses his mind now in cruel whispers: the headrush of victory; the blood and the sweat; the relief that they’d won, they’d done it, it’s over, they won.

Steve tugs at his bad ear ‘til the ringing subsides.

Some fucking grand prize.

The thing is, you can’t go around exploding an eldritch horror without alerting the US government, and the US government can’t go around letting major investors in a hostile commie invasion keep their assets once they find out about their treasonous schemes. It happened fast: the arrest, the bail, the impending trial and the seizure of property. Richard Harrington was once a small town god on an invisible throne, making deals with devils in shadowy boardrooms, and suddenly he was looking at life in a cell.

Maybe it was a blessing he died before his reckoning was due. Maybe it was no accident at all.

The second, and perhaps more important, thing is: stray bullets don’t care about your looming court date.

Dad had a habit of cleaning his guns while he was drunk, nursing a whiskey in one hand while he polished the gleaming barrels with the other. Pointless, really, because the guns were always pristine to begin with. Dick Harrington didn’t hunt. Didn’t shoot. Claimed the pistol was for home defense, that he kept it loaded in case anyone ever tried to hurt his family, but Steve knew the truth.

His dad just liked to flirt with death. Liked to handle pretty, deadly things, stroke his fingers over ruthless metal and feel the rush of power when he walked away unscathed.

He didn’t walk away that night.

Didn’t even face death standing.

Sliced through his femoral artery and rolled right out of his chair.

They found him lying on the ground in a dark, sticky puddle, gasping like a fish as blood spurted from his thigh. Crazy how fast it happened. Steve had been in his room when the shot rang out, and he barely managed to reach the bottom of the stairs before the gurgling noises stopped. Just boom! whizz! bang! and Dick Harrington was gone.

Maybe it’s a good thing, too, that they lost the house.

The image of his mother in the hallway that night — shellshocked in the doorway, one pale hand shaking in front of her open mouth, features wide and wet with waking horror as she stared into the room — was enough to make him never want to step foot in the place again.

So now they live in a rundown piece of shit on the wrong side of town, with hideous burnt orange carpet and wood paneled walls, with cracks in the ceiling and cigarette burns in the walls, some parting gifts from whatever feral hick lived there before them, and it feels like another cruel, cosmic joke. Like the universe is delighting in the Harringtons’ comeuppance; like the blackened beams and brick rubble of Starcourt are all twisting to form one great, mocking mouth; the better to smile and laugh at their misfortune.

You bought your bed, now you have to lie in it.

He didn’t even know that the Harringtons owned Forest Hills until it was the only asset left to their name.

He’s pretty sure his dad bought it more as a joke than a genuine investment. Meant to teach Steve a lesson, like how he used to bring home Waffle House applications whenever Steve got a C on a report card. This is your future if you don’t straighten up, son.

Kill yourself, dad.

Oh, wait.

You already did.

—

part 4

[xcherricutie]

「 ✦ love doesn't die ✦ 」

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

[Yandere!Zombie!Silver the Hedgehog × Human!Reader]

[Word Count - 10k]

[Summary - You've been living in an abandoned city for years. You figured your luck had finally run out when an infected hedgehog finds you, but it seems like he's not entirely dead]

[Tags: Zombie AU, reader is a human because I don't like writing anthro readers I'm sorry, Silver is also a bit taller than his canon height because I mean, come on, blood and gore, some guy loses an arm, Silver isn't super yandere for most of it because I suck at writing]

[Notes: First time writing for Silver, don't expect a masterpiece. Also, the ending is kinda doodoo mainly just cause I wrote 8k of this in one day and just wanted to be done, I didn't feel like coming back to work on it haha. I got the inspo for this from another one shot that is WAY better, I was also rereading the zombot arc and needed to do this. NOT PROOFREAD]

꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷

Dark thunder clouds rolled in, covering the overgrown city in a deep darkness. As the city grew darker, flashes of light beamed down the corpse of what used to be a lively city. Turning a corner, the light revealed yet another empty street, much to your relief. Despite having walked these streets every day for the last five years, you were still wary of any signs of life. After all, most life left were the undead, the immortal corpses of loved ones long gone. As far as you knew, you were the only person left alive. You considered yourself especially lucky, you had never even left your apartment building from before everything collapsed. You maintained your old life to the best of your abilities, just with more isolation, and no internet for entertainment. 

You still recalled what life had been like before with vivid recollection. You remembered your old life back in high school, with all of your friends, human and mobian alike. You remembered the fairly frequent emergencies your world used to face, at the hands of a mad scientist. But that was a time gone by, a distant memory soon to fade from this world entirely. Assuming you were one of the only people left alive and sane, you were the sole carrier of those memories. It felt isolating, lonely, but you tried not to let it get to you. You didn’t want to live out your last days miserably. 

Letting the light of your flashlight guide you back toward the safety of your home, you silently walked across the street, glancing around occasionally for any stray undead. You had discovered they tended to stick together, following sounds, likely blind. But the darkness almost heightened their senses, so you had quickly made your way back home upon noticing the signs of a storm. Unfortunately, you hadn’t beaten the dark clouds, and had been forced to use your flashlight. While you were certain most undead were blind, not all were, and that had you worried. Coming across a human undead wasn’t much to stress about either, they were weak, bones and flesh crumbling at the slightest touch. It was the mobians that had you worried. Most mobians had strength beyond the comprehension of humans in their life, and that had carried over into their undead. You had managed to avoid them for the last five years, but that didn’t mean you weren’t stressing over finally finding one every time you went out for supplies and food. 

As the rundown, boarded up apartment building you called home came into view, you let out a sigh of relief, a small smile tugging at your lips. Just as you took a step forward, you heard a soft tap behind you, sending a violent shudder up your spine as you whipped around, flinging your flashlight in the direction of whatever had caused the source. The sound of your heart thundering filled your ears as your gaze bounced around in a panic, trying to identify the source. As your eyes fell to the ground, you noticed a tiny, circular dark spot on the ground, a wet spot. Staring at it as your panicked mind tried to piece together what was happening, a swashing sound filled your ears, your body suddenly soaked as the sky poured rain. Finally realizing it was only rain, your shoulders relaxed as you scoffed with a smile, rolling your eyes at your own paranoia. Perhaps isolation had done more damage than you had initially realized. 

Turning around, your heart came to a screeching halt in your chest, your blood freezing ice cold in your veins as your eyes met a pair of muted golden, bloodshot eyes. Tufts of messy white quills stood tall, nearly taller than you, stained a deep red shade. His maw was soaked in gore, the heavy stench of iron wafting from his being. He stared lifelessly into your eyes, almost as if looking straight through your head. Your mouth hung open, fear freezing your whole body as a silent scream began to build up within your throat. It seemed your luck finally caught up with you, as the especially tall mobian stood before you, his very presence setting your demise. There was absolutely nothing you could do to fend off the mobian, so as your instincts finally began to kick in, you chose the flight option of flight or fight. 

Turning tail, you immediately bolted down the street. Biting your lip to swallow your terrified scream, you glanced back to see if he followed. Your eyes flew wide open as his eyes were directly in your face, his presence filling the air behind you. He was fast. The scream you had bit back finally freed itself as you whirled around, slamming your flashlight into the side of his skull. You had expected the sounds of squelching to fill the air, but you had been surprised by how intact his flesh still was. How great for you. He just so happened to be one of the especially strong mobians. You were thoroughly screwed. 

His head whipped to the side as your flashlight smashed into his temple. The flashlight flew from your grip, momentarily distracting the undead hedgehog as the light whirled through the air. In that single moment of hesitation, you took the opportunity to run away, zigzagging through the dark. You hoped, prayed to anything that would listen that he happened to be at least slightly blind, but your luck had run bone dry as you heard the drum of footsteps just behind you. 

You pushed yourself harder, running as fast as your legs would carry you. If you could just lose him, for just a second, you could wrap back around and run home. You knew the city like the back of your hand, but you couldn’t risk leading him directly to your safe place. No amount of boards and nails could hold something like him back. 

Beginning to pant wildly, your lungs felt dry, suffocating you as you forced your legs to keep going. You couldn’t let yourself die like this, not after how long you had survived. Your eyes brimmed with tears as you swallowed, your mouth burning and dehydrated. But your ears were zeroed in entirely on the footsteps behind you, or rather, the fading sound of them. Pushing yourself onward, you immediately noticed the lack of footsteps behind you. Hope had instantly begun to overflow within you as you turned a sharp curve, circling back to your apartment building. 

Rushing through the doors, you slammed them shut behind you, taking a shaky breath as you slid to the floor. You were fairly certain that whole escapade shaved off ten years of your life expectancy, but at the very least, you were still alive. You supposed somebody out there must’ve heard your prayers, you thought for sure that undead would never run out of stamina. He is undead after all. 

Taking a moment to calm your breathing, you sucked in a deep breath, relaxing against the doors. Just as you thought to get up though, a loud thud rang through the room, vibrating against the door. Your heart jumped into your throat, eyes flying wide open as you forced your back firm against the door. You could nearly feel its presence just beyond the barrier of glass and boards, banging on the wood. 

Sucking in a sharp but silent breath through your teeth, you slid the bag that hung over your shoulders off, freeing your shoulders of its weight. Grabbing one of the loose boards, you steeled your nerves for whatever came after your next move. You knew you didn’t stand a chance fighting him, so you had to find a way to hold him off while searching for an escape route. 

With the remainders of your courage, you lifted yourself off the floor, back still firmly pressed against the door. The slamming grew more violent, almost as if it were getting impatient, the doors rattling as the boards weakened. You could hear the glass beneath the boards begin to crack, soon to give way. Taking a deep breath, you jumped away from the doors, the doors flinging wide open just as the pressure of your body gave way. 

The hedgehog stood before you, his silhouette being illuminated by the strike of lightning in the far distance. His golden eyes, despite being muted by the lack of life, nearly glowed in the dark, highlighting the spatter of blood across his face. 

You had expected him to immediately run for you, but he hadn’t budged from his spot, staring at you with an almost curious-like aura. You held the wooden board tightly in your grip, prepared to use it as a weapon, waiting for the lifeless body to make its move. Your body was nearly shaking now, the effects of your adrenaline beginning to wear off as your exhaustion caught up to you. You grit your teeth and bore through it, but the suspense had begun to take its toll as your body shook with fear. 

Your gaze had shifted down to his feet as you noticed his leg twitch, foot sliding forward ever so slightly, as if trying to sneak up on you. Your eyes widened upon the realization, an audible gasp slipping from your lips as your mind began to panic. It was intelligent, enough to attempt to evade your alarm. Your whole body bristled as your grip on the board tightened, before the tension in your body suddenly snapped. 

Letting out a scream of terror, you swung the board with all of your strength, the end hitting him square in the neck, knocking him to the ground. You lifted the board once more, slamming it on his head, before turning and taking off further into the building. You could hear it let out a frustrated growl, as if annoyed, his blood-soaked boots squeaking against the floor as he rose. But you didn’t dare look back as you ran towards the stairwell, flinging its metal door open and taking shelter inside. 

As soon as the door slammed shut, clicking into place, you ran up the stairs, your mind panicking as you tried to come up with a way out of this. There was no way out of the building other than the entrance that you had come in through. All of the first-floor windows were heavily boarded up, and there was no exit within the basement. The only other way you could think of was the fire exit, which was in the lobby, where the hedgehog hunting you down was. 

Through your jumbled thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed you had made it to the roof of the building until you pushed the door open, immediately being soaked by the onslaught of rain and wind. Thunder cracked in the sky, streaks of lightning flashing in the clouds. Your attention had momentarily been forced on the storm directly above you, before the sounds of footsteps echoing through the stairwell dragged you back into reality. 

You shut the thick metal door behind you, walking toward the edge of the roof. The wind pushed back as you stepped forward, the slick ground making you stumble as you stood over the edge. The drop was far too long for you to make the jump and survive, which meant you were now trapped here, with a hedgehog that had been very persistent in getting to you. This was it. You had finally met your end, after all these years. But you wouldn’t let the undead corpse have its way, even if you had to take your fate into your own hands. 

A loud thud pulled your attention back to the door, the sound repeating as visible indents had begun to form. You inched backwards, ever closer to the edge, until your heel was pressed into the edge, ready to slip with any slight movements. 

And then, with one final violent slam, the door burst open, revealing the infected hedgehog. An almost animalistic look glinted in his eyes as lightning struck, and you could’ve sworn you saw a faint aura surrounding him before disappearing in small flecks of glittering light. 

Taking a step forward, the hedgehog was immediately soaked in the rain as he approached you. A sharp gasp pushed past your lips as your eyes snapped from the undead to the edge just behind you. Your foot slipped ever so slightly, a startled cry catching in your throat as your arms flailed, attempting to regain your balance. 

Your heart leapt into your throat as your body tipped over the edge, your mind suddenly in a flurry as you realized this was your end. At the very least, you weren’t going to be eaten alive like you had feared. That was the only comfort you received as you fell over, your balance slipping as the ground disappeared from beneath your feet. 

Eyes squeezed shut, you had expected to feel the wind rush past you, before meeting a swift end. Memories flashed through the darkness at a dizzying rate, your heart beating so fast you thought it’d explode before you hit the ground. You had expected everything around you to disappear, the chill of your soaked clothes fading into nothingness, or the feeling of your heart finally stilling. But the only new sensation that had hit you was the feeling of a hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, yanking you upward. 

You felt the air forced from your lungs as your body collided with something wet, freezing cold. A chill ran down your spine as your eyes opened, vision being filled with white despite the darkness. Your nose tingled as strands of fur tickled the tip, leaving behind a cold sensation as your senses were suddenly overwhelmed, overflowing. You were still alive. You had been pulled back up into safety. Or so it had seemed, but the false sense of safety suddenly washed away like the rain as you finally realized what had pulled you back up. 

The hedgehog’s grip around your wrist remained, his other hand now holding your opposite wrist. You stood completely frozen, your mind trying to understand just exactly what had happened. Never, in the last five years of your isolation, living in a world with the undead, had you seen anything of the sort. Not only had every single thing that could walk wanted you dead, but none had the capacity or understanding to save you from death, not even for their own gain. Whatever this thing was, it certainly wasn’t like the others. It wasn’t entirely dead or alive. 

You didn’t know what to do. Judging by the blood spatters dotting his body, the hedgehog was definitely infected. The blood couldn’t have been his own. Which meant that, regardless of his mental capacity, he was still fully willing to eat a living being. Your life was still in danger, even if he had pulled you into some twisted form of safety seconds ago. You were stuck in place, you couldn’t move. Who was to say he wouldn’t sink his teeth into your throat the second you moved even an inch? He certainly had the perfect view of your throat after all, his muzzle leaned against your shoulder. 

After a long moment, one that had felt like years, you finally gave off a sign of life, your wrist twitching in his hold. When he made no efforts to bite into your neck, you gently pulled away just enough to look down at him, to at least try to gauge what was going on beneath the surface. But there was nothing in his eyes to suggest any thought process, no expression that told you he was in control. He simply stared up at you, his eyes shining with the occasional strike of lightning. Even without the sparkle of life, they still seemed bright, a remnant of what once was. 

A particularly close flash of lightning caused you to jolt, eyes going wide. As your facial expression changed, so too did his, eyes going wide slightly, like a delayed reaction. Almost as if mimicking you. You sighed deeply, unsure of what to do. You certainly couldn’t shake the hedgehog, you were stuck with him, but you couldn’t just stand out here and wait for the lightning to finish the job. So, despite what your gut was warning you of, you gave the undead’s hand a slight tug. 

“You, ah...” You paused, half wondering if he could even understand you. What were you even thinking, of course not, but that didn’t stop you from at least trying. “You seem smart. Do you understand me?” 

No reaction. Not even a blink of the eye. You didn’t know what you were expecting, a twitch in his facial muscles or a fully constructed sentence. Regardless, you continued, with the hope that maybe some nerves in his brain were still alive and kicking. He did save you, after all. “We need to go inside. It’s not safe out here.” 

Still unreactive, you decided to just hope your words got through to him, and gave his hand a stronger tug. You pulled the hedgehog slightly, waiting with bated breath for a violent reaction. But he simply let you tug and pull, dragging him back inside, back into the safety of the building. And yet, it had lost its sense of safety as you pulled the undead hedgehog behind you, straight to your safe space, your own room. 

Pushing the door open, a sense of security washed over you, happy to at least be home once again. Even if the hedgehog killed you here, at least it’d be in your home. You had to look on the positive side of having an undead follower for now. 

“This is my home,” You spoke, despite knowing your words would never reach him. You had even shot him a nervous smile, trying to be friendly. It was the least you could do to calm yourself and hopefully the hedgehog as well. Your mind was in shambles. 

“We’ll be safe here. I’ve been here for years.” You said, leading the hedgehog further into your home, telling yourself over and over in your mind to just pretend he was alive. Pretend he wasn’t a threat. 

As you continued to speak, walking around with the infected in tow, you attempted to pull your wrist from his grip, the same wrist he had grabbed to save you. The wrist that he hadn’t released the entire time since pulling you back from that edge. You pulled your wrist away, without even thinking as you spoke all about your time surviving the last few years. It had been your first time talking in years, and had gotten carried away, forgetting that you were still in the midst of danger. You had been forced back to reality as he gripped your wrist nearly painfully tight, pulling you back to his side with force. You looked down at him with wide eyes, your heart rate quickly picking back up as you looked down at him. 

Still showing no signs of life. You didn’t understand what was happening, what was going through that head of his. Some thought must have been present, he had the ability to understand your life had been in danger, he understood to follow when you pulled. He had the ability to resist killing you. So why? Why did he seem so dead, when there was obviously still some amount of life hidden just beneath the blood coated surface? 

“Um... You can let go now,” You tried to calmly say. Instead of seemingly not understanding though, now your words seemed to annoy him, as his empty stare turned into a frustrated look. You felt his fingers tighten around your wrist, his grip quickly growing painful. “I-It’s okay, really. I won’t go anywhere. I’ll stay right here.” 

You hoped that was what he wanted to hear. It was the only thing you could think of that made sense. He didn’t want you to leave his side, but why? Was he saving you for later? Did he still fully intend on taking your life? Why wait? You tried to wrap your mind around the situation, despite knowing there likely was no explanation. At least not one you could get to on your own. Likely, the hedgehog himself was the only thing that knew what was going on. He definitely had some train of thought, you were certain of it now, especially since he confirmed being able to understand you, to some degree. 

“Uh...” Mind scrambling for anything that could help you, you looked around your small apartment, trying to find something to get you out of this situation. “Wh-Why don’t you sit down? Come on.” 

You gave a light tug, trying to direct him to the slightly tattered sofa in the room. He didn’t budge for a moment, staring at you, as if he were eyeing you. But after a second’s passing, he let you pull him toward the sofa, sitting him down. He sat down with no direction at all, which had surprised you, as you didn’t think you’d ever actually seen an infected sitting down. 

You sat down next to him, being sure to put a few inches between you and him. He stared at you once again, putting an unsettling feeling within your being. But just as that feeling began to form, you felt his fingers loosen around your wrist, surprising you. His eyes remained trained completely on you, but at the very least, he seemed calmer. 

As your eyes met his, your brows furrowed as you thought. You had never even thought you’d be in a situation like this. You wondered if you could even take this to your advantage. He didn’t seem to be after your life anyway. 

“You can understand me, can’t you?” You asked. When you received no indication that your words got through, you began to think. Perhaps he wasn’t entirely capable of showing that he understood? He could show facial expressions, but so far you had only seen expressions of annoyance or frustration. Maybe he couldn’t show signs of other emotions. You hummed, finger tapping your chin as you tried to think of something to help you get through to him, or at least form some type of communication. A thought crossed your mind, making you perk up as you jumped to your feet. Your sudden movement clearly startled the hedgehog, but you failed to notice as you rushed past him with a burst of excitement. 

Practically shoveling through a closet of your old belongings and things that just had no use nowadays, you finally found what you had been looking for. You slammed down a pencil and paper on the coffee table before the hedgehog, missing the sudden jerk of his body as you surprised him. You looked up to him with a bright grin, unable to contain your excitement at the idea of getting to study the infected, getting to know him and have a look into his mind, without your life being in danger. 

“Okay, so you obviously have some capacity for thought,” You began, reaching out for his hand. He didn’t resist when you grabbed ahold, placing the pencil in his hand. “Try writing something, anything. A word, a number, your name, whatever you want.” 

The hedgehog just stared at you, unmoving. As seconds began to turn into minutes, you wondered if you got too excited. It did seem silly, now that you thought about it. You had assumed that since he managed to express some emotions, especially to your words, that he had some understanding of language. And he had shown himself to possess some motor skills, so why not writing? At the very least, he could do a little scribbled drawing. But it was pretty farfetched to think that something like him, something lacking thought and morals, could communicate. 

But your thoughts were cut off as you heard the scratching of lead against paper. With much applied force, the hedgehog began to slowly but surely make out letters, and soon, a very poorly written word had been forcefully drawn on the paper. The paper had ripped in some places, and the pencil had broken, making the lead appear rubbed. But despite that, there was still very plainly a word written in large across the paper. “Silver”. 

“Silver...” You squinted your eyes at the paper, before they widened as you made the connection. “Is that your name? Silver?” 

The lack of reaction this time finally confirmed your thoughts. If you had been wrong, he would’ve shown signs of frustration, but there was nothing. This was your sign. You had been right. He just lacked the ability to show other expressions, but still had the ability to think. There were still signs of life inside him after all. 

“Oh wow, this is...” You fell to your knees in front of the table, sitting across from him. You stared into his eyes, momentarily awe-struck. You had found somebody; somebody you could actually communicate with. “I can’t believe it. You can actually talk. I-I haven’t spoken with anyone in years. Wait, can the others talk too?” 

Silver’s brows furrowed slightly, your sign of communication, his version of “no”. You visibly pouted, disappointed by the answer, but you couldn’t be surprised. Silver was the only one who could even think, let alone show emotions. 

You wanted to ask him more. You wanted to get to know him. You had gotten lost in your thoughts, trying to figure out more ways to talk with him. You had come up with the idea of asking him yes and no questions and having him write down the answers on the paper. He had been bad about writing too big to fit multiple words on the paper, which had resulted in you running out of paper and ending up just writing on the wooden table. But you didn’t care at this point, too interested in finding out everything you could about Silver, which ended up being quite a lot. 

You had discovered that Silver was once one of the heroes who used to defend the world from the mad scientist who often put it in danger. You had also found out that he was the very last hero to live in the end, every one of his friends dying off one by one to the virus. Thanks to his psychokinesis, he had survived for years, only recently finally losing the fight. Apparently, he had been searching for the cure all this time, a person with special immunity to the virus. In the end, his efforts had gone to waste though, and he had died. You didn’t even know how to begin to process any of that, and by the time you had found out everything, it was late into the night hours. You were running on fumes, eyes struggling to stay open as you thought of another question to ask Silver. 

Your eyes widened slightly as Silver set the pencil down, leaning back onto the sofa. You couldn’t get past the jarring, dead and empty look in his eyes, which never even blinked. It felt odd seeing him move around, seeing him interact with his surroundings, with you, despite the obvious lack of life. For the most part anyway. 

Silver’s hand caught your eye as it softly pat the sofa next to him. You tilted your head in confusion, before realizing what he meant, surprising you. You didn’t think he was capable of that level of awareness, noticing your own emotions. You let out a soft chuckle as you stood, stretching out with a yawn. 

“I’m still shocked that somebody like you even exists,” You said, giving Silver a smile. You failed to notice the slight twitch of his eyes; the flicker of some emotion hidden deep within him. “I guess all those years of perseverance keeps you going. I bet you could cure yourself if you tried hard enough.” 

You joked, but it also made some amount of sense. He was a super powered hedgehog, far beyond anything like you’d ever seen. If anyone could overcome the virus, it would likely be him. You had assumed at this point that his interest in you was because he’d finally found someone alive, someone who wasn’t braindead. You would quickly find though, that wasn’t the only reason for his interest. 

You had decided against Silver’s offer, telling him you were going to sleep in your own room. He had expressed slight annoyance at this, but calmed down after you told him he could sit and watch for danger in the living room. And while it felt nice to know there was somebody who wanted to protect you now, you also didn’t trust that Silver could control his hunger. So just in case, you had locked your bedroom door. You knew it’d do little to stop him, should he really want to get in, but it gave you some comfort. 

Despite your initial excitement, you couldn’t help the fear that Silver was still a danger to you. He could think and communicate, sure, but did that stop him from eating people? Had he actually eaten anyone before? You didn’t dare ask him, scared it was a touchy subject. He had emotions, so it was obvious he must’ve felt something toward his sickness, his “condition”. He was dead, of course it was a touchy subject. So, you lived in uncertainty now, fearing the day Silver lost control. 

But you’d find out his hunger wasn’t what you had to worry about. You found that out almost immediately the next day, explaining to Silver that you had to go out again and search for food. To put it simply, he was not happy. 

“Silver, I have to go out! I will literally die without food!” You argued, pulling on your wrist as Silver held you tightly. He didn’t move or even budge a single muscle, your efforts doing little to escape his hold. You grumbled in annoyance, glaring down at him. “Would you rather me die? I don’t think I’ll be as lively as you when I’m dead.” 

Your words seemed to cut through whatever stubbornness he had been feeling as he returned the glare tenfold but released you. You huffed, rubbing your pained wrist, turning away from him. You grabbed your bag that you had retrieved from the lobby (without Silver, of course), stuffing inside anything you may need on your trip out. You had to leave space for food though, which meant you couldn’t bring very much with you, aside from a flashlight and a knife. 

“I’ll be fine, Silver, promise. I’ve been doing this longer than you, after all,” You teased, though you’re unsure he found it very humorous. But you didn’t linger on it, slinging the bag over your shoulder. “You could even come with me and help. It’d be nice to have some help for once.” 

This seemed to perk Silver up, as his glare relaxed into that empty look you were coming to know. You smiled, a small chuckle escaping your lips. Perhaps he still retained that heroic personality he had in life, trying to protect you from any and all harm. 

With that settled, you and Silver headed out. Silver took the lead right away, keeping a lookout for any infected. The city was empty and silent, most undead out in the woods, looking for wild animals for sustenance. The eerie silence was still jarring to you, even after all these years. Even with all of the plant life overrunning the city, there was a lack of wildlife. No birds chirping, or squirrels running about. As far as you could tell, Silver and you were the only life for miles. Or so you had assumed. 

A splash of water broke through the silence, drawing your attention as you looked down into the murky puddle your boot had stepped in. Your reflection rippled through its surface before disappearing as you lifted your boot, unsettling the mud. You let out a soft hum, eyes glancing around your surroundings. All was quiet, even with Silver at your side now. You found his silence gave you almost a sense of foreboding. Were the infected all this quiet? 

Your attention focused on Silver; you didn’t even register the sound of water splashing just behind you. You barely had time to process the hand that reached out from behind, a shiver running down your spine as your mind lagged behind, realizing just seconds too late what was happening. 

Silver’s feet dragged as he trudged forward, bleary eyes shifting back and forth as he looked around. All was quiet, and his sharp sense of hearing didn’t pick up anything other than the thuds of your footsteps just behind him. Hearing a splash of water, Silver’s ear twitched slightly, but shrugged it off as your presence. It was strangely quiet, even for him. 

A sharp, shrill scream pierced that silence, startling Silver as he whipped around, trying to focus his eyes, trying to find you. His eyes landed on your form, legs kicking as you tried to fight off the infected that had snuck up on you. Its hand wrapped around your face, other hand holding your shoulder as it leaned in close to your neck. 

Swinging your body back and forth, you tried to shove it off, letting out a startled cry as you felt its hot breath down your neck. Tears brimming in your eyes, you grabbed it by the arm, using all of your strength to fling it over your shoulder. Its body slammed against the ground, the rotten flesh of its arm tearing clean off. 

A shudder ran down your back as you dropped the dead flesh, your blurry eyes landing on Silver as he rushed to your side. But you didn’t have time to focus on him as your peripheral vision caught sight of movement, whipping to face whatever was approaching next. Your eyes widened to see not just a few stray infected, but an entire horde. The streets were filled with undead, the putrid scent of death hitting your nose. 

“Th-They’re everywhere,” You muttered, turning to look at Silver. If an infected could look panicked, Silver surely did right now. His eyes were wide, shoulders stiff as he leaned closer to you, as if to try and protect you. But even Silver couldn’t fight off an entire horde, he had found that out in his final moments of life. 

The storm had to have led them in, you assumed. They relied on their sense of sound and must’ve lingered even after the storm passed. They had you and Silver completely surrounded, and there was nothing you could do to get through. Your heart hammered in your chest, your breathing growing erratic as your eyes darted around for any kind of escape. 

Body trembling, you felt your knees grow weak with fear as you realized, this was likely your end. It had been just your luck to finally find someone who could change your life, only to have it all ripped away from you. You squeezed your eyes shut as you noticed the infected beginning to approach, your tears streaming down your face as you tried to shut the world out. 

Just as you closed everything out though, you felt a cold hand wrap around your own, fingers squeezing gently. You peeked your eyes open, meeting the pair of golden eyes you thought you’d never get the chance to see again. But something was different, there was a whole new layer of color to them, a turquoise aura surrounding both you and him. But that wasn’t what caught your eye. It was the smallest upturn of his lips, crinkling his muzzle ever so slightly. You hadn’t even thought it possible for him to make any expressions other than aggravation, but in your final moments, he had given you the comfort you didn’t even realize you desired for all these years. 

Your mind had been distracted from what you had assumed would be your final few seconds in life, your eyes entirely on Silver. Something about your gaze, the way your eyes lit up upon seeing his smile, it made something deep within Silver flutter to life. Something he had rarely ever felt, even in his days alive. It gave him the strength to use up what little power he had access to in his rotten body, lifting his body from the ground. You hadn’t even realized what was going on, having closed off the world as your mind focused entirely on Silver’s face, on his smile, his soft and kind eyes. It wasn’t until your feet had left the ground, did you finally come back down to Earth. 

Your eyes widened as you looked down, the ground getting further and further away as Silver lifted you just above the infecteds’ reach. Your eyes practically lit up with exuberance, nearly welling with more tears as you realized Silver had once again saved your life. But that excitement quickly dissipated as your eyes met his, noticing the strained look written across his face. He squeezed his eyes shut, letting out a soft groan as the aura surrounding you had begun to flicker and disappear. He had just barely managed to land on the roof of a tall building, thankfully with no entry to the roof. They were safe, for the time being. 

“Silver, that was amazing!” You exclaimed, wrapping your arms around him without even thinking. Silver’s eyes widened as he felt you squeeze him close, muttering words of thanks over and over as you pressed your face into his shoulder. 

A sharp jolt burst through Silver’s body, causing him to twitch slightly in your hold. It felt electrifying, like something within him had been shocked to life. It almost felt as though his heart had been jumpstarted, his cold, dead body, blood that had long since stagnated beginning to heat up his body. But it wasn’t just that. It wasn’t that your touch had brought his body back to life, more so that it had given life to a brand-new feeling, an indescribable feeling that Silver immediately knew he had to protect at all costs. 

“Oh, but...” You pulled away slightly, much to Silver’s dismay, as you cast your gaze over the edge of the building. The sky was still cloudy, blotting out the sunlight, the wind sending a chill down your spine. “We’re stuck up here now. Do you think you could fly the rest of the way home?” 

Silver frowned deeply, giving you your answer. You sighed, shoulders drooping in disappointment. That meant, that until the horde either dispersed, or Silver gained enough energy to fly once again, you were stuck up here. And the fact that you had yet to eat anything today was finally starting to catch up with you, your body feeling tired and weak. 

Your gaze lifted back up to Silver’s, finally realizing your arms were still wrapped around him. You could barely even recall the fact that he was dead anymore, the only reminders being the sickly sweet smell coming from him, and the droopiness of his eyes. But the way he held you softly in his arms, the smile he had given you to comfort you in what could’ve been your final moments, it felt so much like a real person. Like there was still somebody in there. Somebody who cared for you. 

“Can you smile again?” You asked, both genuinely curious, and missing the presence of his smile. Silver seemed a bit caught off guard, his body tensing slightly. His hands pulled away from you, leaving a cold, empty feeling where they had been, which you ignored. It had been far too long since you felt physical contact with another being. 

Silver’s cheeks twitched slightly as he struggled to curl his lips upwards. He had even squeezed his eyes shut, trying to pull his lips upward, but they simply wouldn’t budge. You frowned slightly, wondering if doing even the simplest things overexerted his muscles. They were pretty much dead, after all. It was shocking he could even do it before. 

Letting out a frustrated growl, Silver lifted his fingers to his cheeks, pushing the corners of his lips upward. Your eyes widened at the annoyed hedgehog who forcefully turned his lips upward, giving him a very strange and almost scary appearance, had you not known what was going on. For a moment, you could only stare in pure surprise, before a sputter of laughter escaped your lips. Covering your mouth, you tried to hide the laughter that bubbled up within you, but you couldn’t help the giggles that escaped. Soon enough, your hidden giggles turned into uproarious cackling, sides nearly splitting as you doubled over. 

Like an infection, your euphoria spread to Silver, nearly having to do a double take as you caught sight of his face. His lips had been pulled into a tight smile, mimicking your own. His sharp canines stood out, stained slightly red, his gums showing from how hard he was pulling. But despite that, you couldn’t help the excitement bubbling within you at the sight, chuckling. 

“You have a lovely smile, Silver,” You said, your words causing Silver to falter, his lips trembling. It felt like his heart was trying to stutter back into life, almost painfully so. He didn’t think he’d ever felt an emotion as strong as what was going through him now. And your words only made it worse as you continued. “I’m so glad I met you.” 

Silver knew from that moment that he needed to keep you, he wanted you at his side, forever. 

It had taken a few hours, but the horde of the undead had finally begun to disperse, following sounds in the woods, looking for their next meal. Silver had also gathered just enough energy to fly back home, holding you tightly, taking every chance he could to squeeze you against his own body. You were so warm against him; it was becoming addicting. 

Before finding you, Silver had assumed there was no life left aside from the occasional wild animal. But even those were becoming rare. He thought it a curse that he could see the world around him, that he still had some thought and comprehension, but that he lacked control of his own body. It wasn’t until he saw you for the first time, roaming the dark streets, did he finally feel like himself. He needed to see you, to see an actual living being. He had died all alone and thought the rest of his undead life would be the same, and you changed that. You were like his lifeline, keeping him connected with his humanity. He needed you. 

Once you had made it back home, you made sure to lock the front door, pushing a shelf in front of it with Silver’s help. It wouldn’t stop a group of infected, but it might stop one or two. Maybe. Silver didn’t make it seem like a silly idea, so you found comfort in that. 

As the hours grew late, putting a close to your second day since finding Silver, you found yourself practically attached at the hip to Silver, the same going for him. Asking him more questions about himself and his life, you were enthralled by him. It had been many years since you got to bond with anyone, it felt like you couldn’t detach yourself from him if you tried. 

Letting out a yawn, you leaned back onto the sofa, having run out of ideas to ask him. Communicating with someone via yes or no questions could only get you so far, and you felt like you had hit that limit. There wasn’t much left to ask him, now the information you sought could only be given by him, and that obviously wasn’t possible. As much as you wished for it, Silver still lacked the ability to actually speak, and likely would forever. 

“I guess that’s it for today. It’s too bad we couldn’t find anything, I’m starving,” You mumbled, your stomach growling. It wasn’t like you hadn’t gone a day without food before, but it was still slightly painful. You sighed, standing up as you smiled at Silver. “I guess I’ll just have to try again tomorrow. Hopefully they’ll have cleared out by then.” 

As you turned away, going to prepare for bed, you failed to notice the look of disapproval on Silver’s face. He watched you walk away, a slight scowl on his face. 

Walking into your bedroom, you stretched out your arm, though came to a screeching halt as an intensely sharp pain stabbed through your shoulder, nearly drawing a cry of pain out of you. You hissed, letting your arm go slack as you rushed into your bathroom. The dim moonlight bathed the room in an almost blueish light, highlighting the red gash that had been scratched across your neck and shoulder. You could only stare with wide eyes, your mind unable to process the sight before you, breath caught in your throat. How had you failed to notice that? When did it happen? 

As the memory of the infected that had snuck up on you passed through your mind, you faintly recalled feeling an uncomfortable scratch across your collarbone that you hadn’t given much thought to at the time. Your life was in danger, you were focused entirely on escaping the situation. But now that you were home, and hours had gone by, the blood had dried, and the wound had begun to heal. It wasn’t a deep scratch. Just enough to break the skin. But was that all it took to turn? To become infected? 

It had been hours, you reminded yourself. Turning was usually immediately. But you also knew there were rare cases where it could happen over a course of time, slowly killing the host. You had been infected. There was no doubt about it. 

Stumbling back into your bedroom, you collapsed against the old, beaten mattress. There was nothing you could do except hope that you woke up tomorrow morning. You couldn’t tell Silver. He had finally found someone he could talk to. Someone he could bond with. You didn’t want to crush that so soon. 

Closing your eyes, you ignored the pain in your shoulder, letting slumber take you. You had been fully prepared to just never wake up again, at least not fully. But much to your surprise, you woke up the next day, sunshine pouring into your room through an unboarded window. You blinked away your sleepiness, slightly confused as to why you were still you, before jumping out of bed. 

Rushing to your bathroom, you checked your collarbone once again. The scratch remained, still healing. You had honestly thought it to be a dream when you woke up, but seeing it there, feeling the remaining pain as you moved your shoulder, you knew it was real. 

You didn’t know what to do. Your mind was rushing for a solution, or at least a way to keep this from Silver. You didn’t want him to see you change. You had to come up with some sort of plan to get away from him before changing, and today was the perfect opportunity. 

That was what you had thought, until Silver had decided not to let you out at all today. Just like yesterday, he held you by your wrist tightly, refusing to let you walk through your door. You had even tried the same reasoning as yesterday, saying that he could come with, but he still wouldn’t let you go. You had thought it was because he hadn’t been there to keep you safe from being grabbed, but you were fine as far as he was aware. There was no reason for him to feel bad. 

“I have to go out, I need food, I’m hungry! Just let me go!” You huffed in frustration, ignoring the pain in your shoulder as you tried to tug your arm free. Silver simply glared up at you, visibly growing more frustrated the longer you fought him. He didn’t understand why you thought it was okay to go out again, not after yesterday. Not after he nearly lost you. 

“Let me go!” You raised your voice, trying to urge him to free you. It seemed your tone only made him mad, as he roughly yanked your arm, a searing pain shooting through your shoulder. You cried out in alarm, holding your shoulder as you hissed. “You’re hurting me, Silver!” 

Your cries of pain seemed to startle him as his grip loosened significantly, almost enough for you to pull your arm free, but his grip returned just as you tried to pull. As your eyes met his, you could see a look of not just frustration in his eyes, but confusion. Guilt suddenly squeezed at your heart, making you sigh as your shoulders fell. 

“Okay, if you don’t want me to go, then why don’t you? You’re one of them after all,” You said, giving him a small, comforting smile. “That way, I can stay safe at home, and you can bring me food.” 

Silver let you go at that, agreeing immediately. He walked past you, shoving the shelf blocking the door aside with ease. As he looked back, your eyes widened as he gave you the tiniest of smiles. The sight made your heart flutter, but at the same time sink, knowing it would be your last time getting to see such a smile. The smile of someone with perseverance great enough to live beyond death. 

You gave Silver a bright grin in return, your smile remaining until the door had closed behind him, leaving you alone with your own thoughts. It was just like before now, when you were all alone. Silver was gone. And it had left a bigger hole in your heart than you thought it would. 

But you had no time to waste. You didn’t know when it would happen. You had to disappear before Silver could return, without being noticed. You waited until you were certain Silver was gone before preparing. 

The table was covered in Silver’s scribbles now, with little room left. Taking a marker, you wrote over Silver’s handwriting, writing a small apology, that you didn’t want him to see you turn. With your final words written, you took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of your old apartment one last time. Since showing up, Silver had left that sickeningly sweet smell everywhere he went. A smell that once made you sick and terrified, you found some sense of comfort in, knowing it was from him. 

You wished you could’ve had more time with him. You wished you could’ve met Silver before everything, before he and everyone around him died. You imagined you would’ve been great friends. But you couldn’t linger on that, not anymore. 

Slipping out of your apartment, you made certain that you were completely alone before exiting the building. The streets were silent once again, but this time, you knew nothing was around. Not even Silver. You were alone. 

Making your way into the woods that had begun to creep up on the old city, you were surrounded by the darkness the trees provided, hiding you from the light. Even in the woods, it was dead silent aside from the wind rustling the leaves and branches. It was a lonely final resting place, but you preferred that over putting Silver in even more pain. 

With one final glance back, you could see your memories flashing through your eyes just like before, but at a slower pace now, reminding you of everything you’d lost, and the friend you were going to lose now. You were simply thankful you got the chance to meet Silver. For a mere second, you thought it might’ve been possible he himself was the cure he had been searching so long for. After all, he was still alive, even though his body technically wasn’t. The thought made you smile, comforting you as you disappeared into the darkness. 

The sun had begun to drift lower and lower into the sky. Silver stared up at the sky as it turned from a bright blue into a brilliant orange. Despite the beautiful view, Silver only wished you could’ve been with him to witness it. He knew he had made the right decision in leaving you home, especially since he had seen a few infected during his search. But he still couldn’t help but miss you, wanting to be always at your side. 

Making his way back home, Silver pushed the door open, mustering up his best smile as he held his arms out, showing off the food he had found in his search. But upon seeing the empty room, Silver dropped the food without a thought as he looked around. Where were you? Why were you not here waiting for him? 

Red ink scrawled across the table caught his attention, golden eyes landing on the message. Taking in its words, Silver didn’t even think it possible to feel his blood pressure skyrocket, and yet the feeling that overcame him in those two seconds rivaled the feeling. 

Silver didn’t think he’d ran that fast since he was alive. He didn’t even know he could run as fast as he was, nor did he think he had the same heightened sense of smell as the other infected until he was completely zeroed in on your scent, on the blood in your scent. He couldn’t lose you, not now, not after he’d finally found someone to be with. Someone who was alive and made him feel alive. He had to have you, no matter what. Even if you were infected, he’d find a way to help you. You could be just like him; he would make you be just like him. Even if he had to infect you himself. 

The sun had begun to dip below the horizon, and the woods grew darker with each second. You shivered as the wind blew a chill down your spine, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth. Despite the pain in your shoulder, you couldn’t feel any effects of the virus. Perhaps you were one of the rare cases that had to suffer longer? It certainly lined up with the luck you had. 

The leaves crunched softly underneath your boots as you walked, your mind drifting as time slowed to a crawl. You were just ready for it to be over. Silver was probably already home, though you couldn’t even begin to guess what his reaction would be. You guessed he might try to look for you, but you’d already be turned and long gone before he could find you. You felt guilty, but it wasn’t like letting Silver watch you turn was any better. 

Your mind was brought back to reality as you heard a particularly loud gust of wind. Looking around, you felt your fear begin to crawl from the pits of your stomach, and up your spine. Squeezing yourself tighter, you forced yourself to take a deep breath, before continuing on. 

Before you could take even a single step forward though, you were suddenly and violently tackled to the ground. You let out a startled cry, your shoulder slamming against the ground, forcing a scream from your lungs. You felt a hand grab your injured shoulder, flipping you over with great force, nearly knocking the wind out of you. 

Your eyes met a pair of wildly glowing golden eyes, a sneer pulling at his lips, revealing his canines. You cried out in alarm, trying to crawl away, Silver’s tight grip holding you in place underneath him. You had no time to react, no time to stop him as he bent down, immediately sinking his teeth into your collarbone. You let out a shrill scream, feeling your own blood soak your clothes and skin, staining Silver’s muzzle. You fought and shoved against him, feeling the cool air hit your skin as he pulled away, revealing his dripping maw, blood trickling down his canines. 

“Mine,” A strained, raspy voice spoke, startling you. He repeated the word over and over, rubbing his nose against your neck. He switched to the other side, making you panic as you felt his sharp teeth brush over your skin. He sunk his teeth into your flesh, taking in your scent, practically burning it into his brain. He was never letting you out of his sight again. You were his, he needed you, you were all he had left in this world. 

Pulling away, Silver stared at the sight of you below him. Your neck was littered with bites, and after the third bite, you had lost the strength to fight him, just waiting to succumb to your death. Your eyes drooped, a sleepiness unlike anything you’d ever felt washing over you, granting you relief. 

As your eyes fell shut, you could feel Silver lift you, holding you against his fluffy chest. You leaned into his surprisingly warm hold, deciding to just go with it. You were dead anyway, so you might as well soak it in. Despite everything, you were still glad to have met Silver. 

It felt like time had slowed to a near stop, and you couldn’t differentiate minutes between hours, and days between years. It felt like you had been forced to wake though after a long time, sunlight pouring over you, bathing you in its warmth. It was strangely warm. You had expected everything to be cold, dead. 

Eyes slowly peeking open, they blurred in the light, making you groan. Just as you began to stir, you heard a gasp, startling you fully awake, eyes clearing up immediately as you sat up. Just before you stood Silver, or what you had assumed was Silver. He was strangely... lively. Almost like he was alive. 

“You’re awake!” He exclaimed, his crystal-clear voice startling you to your core. It wasn’t like he was almost alive; he was alive. His golden eyes held that flicker of life that was once missing, his lips curled into the biggest smile you had ever seen. 

As if able to tell you were both shocked and confused, Silver chuckled, sitting down next to you on the bed. “A little while after I bit you, I got better. It surprised me too, believe me. I guess it turns out you were the immune person I’ve been looking for all this time!” 

Your brain didn’t process a single word he said. You were shocked you were even still alive, especially after how Silver had bitten you, and many times at that. The memory of Silver biting you over and over suddenly filled your head, the pain still ever present in your neck. You ran your hand over your neck, feeling the deep teeth marks scattered across your skin. Silver’s eyes fell to your hand, his smile remaining, but the glimmer of innocent cheerfulness fading from his eyes. 

“I wanted to be the one to turn you,” Silver said, his voice forcing your attention back on him, looking up at him with wide eyes. He smiled at you, the corners of his lips reaching his eyes and forcing them to crinkle. “I was going to make you like me. But this is better! This means that you can’t turn, and even if I do, I can just bite you and cure myself!” 

Something about Silver’s words, or the way he smiled, put an unsettling feeling in your stomach. Something about this didn’t sit right with you, but you couldn’t quite place it. Was it kind that he wanted to turn you himself? You couldn’t tell. 

“What does this mean? A-Am I going to have to cure everyone else?” You asked, confused. You didn’t think you could handle getting bitten that much. You didn’t even have enough blood to spare a few hundred people. And wouldn’t that, you know, kill you? 

“Oh, no!” Silver chuckled, shaking his head. He took your hand into his own, squeezing it much more gently than he had when he was infected. “I can’t let you be getting hurt. It’s just you and me against the world.” 

Silver gave you a big smile, his eyes filled with love, and yet, you knew, there was no real love to be found. His love had died with him when he died so long ago. 

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

[luveline]

More zombie au! Steve!!! Please! It’s literally so good I love how you write Steve all protective <3

thank you ♡ steve zombie au —steve gets sick. you meet a dark-haired stranger while looking for meds. fem!reader 2k

You compare your arm to the bottle in your hand. You've written a list of generic and brand name antibiotics in biro on your forearm, but they're smudging from nervous sweat. You're getting desperate. 

Nothing seems to match. You're shaking with aching arms and legs, fucking terrified as you sift through a floor of orange and white pill bottles that nothing is going to match your list, and worse, the pharmacy grows darker by the hour. You don't have a torch. 

Things are getting pretty bad at camp. There's not enough food to go around, no batteries, and now Steve's… 

A bottle slips out of your hand and knocks into another. You cringe and pick up the next. You've been searching for hours without sitting down, as hiding underneath the bottles is a carpeting of grainy glass from the smashed shelves. Three of your fingertips have cut and scabbed since you got here. 

"Fuck," you whisper, glaring at another wrong medication. "Fuck, fuck." 

Amoxicillin, ciprofloxacin, flucloxacillin. Anything to stop Steve's infection from getting into his blood. It's a gross wound, oozy and inflamed, and when you'd left him with Robin dutiful at his side his skin had glowed with heat like glass held in the centre of a furnace. Even with his eyes closed, he'd known what you were about to do. 

"Don't fucking leave," he'd grit out, fingers twitching up for your hand. 

You'd leaned forward and kissed his damp forehead. "I have to go. I love you. I'll be right back." 

That was ten hours ago at least. You have no idea what condition Steve might be in, so sure you'd find the pills and be back in arm's reach by noon. How sick can he get before it's too much? 

"Shit," you whisper, your fingers tingling. 

"What are you looking for?" 

You fall backward with a sharp gasp, pill bottles biting into your thighs. Your face swings around but the source of the voice is unclear, empty shelves and aisles either side of you. 

"Chill out–" 

"Where the fuck are you?" you demand, scrambling onto your feet with the use of one sacrificed palm. Glass like needles serrates your skin. "Fuck! Come out, loser!" 

"Hey, no need to be mean. I'm up in the ceiling." 

You look up. Peeking out from a displaced ceiling tile is a pale face silhouetted by a matt of dark hair. 

"You fucking little freak," you say, though you feel bad immediately. He's smiling and he isn't pointing any weapons at you, which is more than most strangers allow on the road. "Why are you up there?"

"I wanted to see if you had a gun, stupid." 

"You're stupid, stupid. What if it was in my bag?" 

"Point it at me, then!" 

You stare at him in silence. 

"That's what I thought," he says, framing a face in two hands like a baby angel on a gift card. "Can I come down or are you gonna keep bitchin'?" 

"Don't fucking come down here." 

"Or what?" he asks. 

"I'll get my gun out." 

"Mm, okay," he mocks. "I'll come help you find whatever it is that has your panties in a twist." 

"I swear to god–" 

"Listen. I'm a good guy, I swear." 

"That's what bad guys say." 

The stranger laughs a weird giggly laugh and climbs backwards. The ceiling tiles stress visibly under his weight but make no noise as he disappears from view. He swears a couple of times on the way down, unseen, before the stockroom door swings open and he appears in his intimidating glory in the doorway.

"If you kill me," you say, eyeing his spiked wristbands and the machete strapped to his waist with horrified apprehension, "my boyfriend will avenge me. Like, hunt you to the ends of the earth and slice you into little tiny pieces of vengeance." 

"That sounds like my kind of party, but your boyfriend has nothing to worry about. I got a girl." 

"Don't say rock and roll." 

"How the fuck would you guess that?" he asks, hand flying to the back of his neck for a bashful scratch. 

"My life feels like a shitty gimmicky horror movie, and you look the part." You bite the inside of your cheek. "I need antibiotics." 

"You and everybody else in the world. This for your vengeful boyfriend?" 

You don't need him knowing who they're for. He could be an evil guy, and the threat of Steve waiting for you might be your trump card. "No. My vengeful boyfriend left to look for cans in the shelter." 

"He'll be back soon, then." 

You take a step back. "I'll gouge your eyes out if you try anything, I'm serious. I don't care how big your knife is–" 

"I'm Eddie." Eddie smiles at you, shoving his hands into cargo pockets. Despite his weird questions and his choice of apparel, he looks less intimidating in the lingering light of the setting sun as it seeps between window shutters. "I don't want to hurt you." He frowns. "Any kind of hurt." 

"Can I have the machete?" 

"Nope. I can go put it down somewhere, though, if that's less scary." 

You shake your head, and with a great big sigh, lean down to sift through bottles. If he's going to hurt you, he might as well get on with it. The longer you spend talking to him, the sicker your Steve becomes. 

"You need antibiotics bad?" Eddie asks, his voice softening. 

"My best friend is sick." You toss a bottle, pick up another. "Infection probably getting into his blood. If I don't find something tonight, he's gonna die." 

"Well, we can't have that," Eddie says, crouching down to help. 

You sweep through bottle after bottle of things you wish you needed. Painkillers, sleeping pills, laxatives. Good shit, and nothing you need. 

"You know…" Eddie sighs. "I know you could lie to me, but is it just you, boyfriend and the dying bestie, or?"

You're not sure what the right answer is. Better for him to think you have an army waiting if you get lost, or better to hide them? He could belong to a cult of cannibals. Only… his clothes are squeaky clean. His curls shine with a gloss that comes solely with conditioner, which means he has the time and security to really wash things. 

But murders can wash their clothes, right?

"There's a couple of us," you say. 

"You're not from that place west, are you?" 

You put a pill bottle down slowly. "West?" 

"Yeah, there were people there, hundreds of 'em. We got a few stragglers, survivors from the fucking massacre that happened a few weeks ago. One girl said there must've been thirty, forty kids there, it's fucking awful." 

You swallow a lump. "Awful," you agree.

"Hopper says we can track down the people who did it if we just follow the blood trail," Eddie says, slipping into a theatrical bravado that won't stick. "I don't know… someone needs to stop them." 

You choke, "Hopper? Chief Hopper?" 

"Wait, you're from Hawkins?" Eddie asks. 

You give each other boggled looks, a thrumming hope building in your chest like a flickering flame in the dead of winter. 

"I think you better come back with me," Eddie says. 

"I need antibiotics," you say, wanting to explain it to him and now knowing how. Or even if you should. Awesome, Hopper's alive, but that doesn't mean Eddie's group are good people, or that they can help you. There's nothing anyone in the world can do for you right now if they don't have a handful of Augmentin. 

"You're from The College." 

"I don't have time for this," you say, half apology and half frustration. "Yeah, we were from The College, and now it's gone, and my boyfriend's gonna die if you don't help me find the right pills." You wince and snatch up another stupid bottle. 

"I can get you antibiotics," Eddie says, "but you're gonna have to trust me. Can you do that?"

"No." 

—

Steve wakes up two days later in an unfamiliar building. 

His eyes are made of sand, he can hardly breathe it's that cold, each breath as sharp as a needle as he sucks it in, but there's a roof over his head, a blanket over his chest, and your voice, your laugh rings like a song in the air. 

"He didn't do that, you're lying," you say with a laugh, pulling Steve's hand to your chest. 

"He did." Steve stiffens at the voice. Deeper, rougher than yours. "I swear on my life, he jumped right into Lover's Lake and swam backstroke to prove he could beat Louisa Park's best." 

"Did he beat her time?" 

"No, but he had a condom stuck to his ankle when he got out. Wasn't worth it." 

"Steve," you say. Steve thinks you've noticed he's waking up, but you hug his hand with a sympathetic sigh. "That's so embarrassing. You better wake up soon, I have making fun of you to do." 

"I think I'll stay asleep," he says hoarsely. 

You gasp and choke his fingers between yours. "Steve?" You climb up onto the bed, your weight dipping the mattress under his back. Your hand comes careful and warm against his chilled cheek. "You're awake. You're awake?" 

He strains to unglue his top lashes from his bottom lashes. You beam at him, the little scars around your mouth from a cruel hand shining in the white morning light. 

"What time is it?" he asks. 

"It's, like, seven in the morning." 

"I've been asleep that long?" 

"You've been unconscious for nearly two days," you correct. 

Steve can't remember anything. He has the barest memory of your lips on his forehead. Robin splashing cold water on him and calling him an asshole, and then, much quieter, her best friend. 

"Where's Robin?" he asks. 

"She's being Robin somewhere, you know, she loves being helpful. The kids need help getting settled." 

"And you're being lazy," Steve pokes. 

He lifts his chin so your kiss lands exactly where he wants it, the stubbly space below his jaw. You wrap your arms around him and hug him severely, squeezing his tender ribs. 

"I wasn't lazy, I had to go save you by myself." 

"Save everybody," the familiar but impossible voice adds. Steve doesn't want to believe it. He refuses to. "Like, an entire generation." 

"I didn't do anything," you say, kissing Steve again, a short path to his chapped lips. "Honey," —your voice lowers, your confession for Steve's ears alone— "I'm so happy you're okay. I was really, really scared." 

Steve feels the weight of your fear like a dumbell on his chest, but he's uber confused. Propping his chin over your shoulder and hugging you back, the evil wound on his arm that caused this whole mess throbbing like fire under his bandage, Steve sets his eyes on the boy sitting on the chair next to yours. 

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie says warmly, eyes dripping with a put upon affection. "Miss me?" 

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Steve asks. 

"Saving the day, obviously." 

"I can't believe I found one of your friends," you say, sitting up a little to smile at him. You really are gorgeous in his eyes, better than any movie star. Your beatific little grin stirs something, but Eddie's snort stomps it dead. 

"We're not friends," Steve says. 

You stroke Steve's face with the back of your hand. "Don't be like that. He's really nice…" Your smile melds itself to a concerned frown. "I thought you were kicking it, Stevie. How's your arm feeling? Does it hurt a lot?" 

"It's fine," he says dismissively, wrapping his stronger arm around your waist. He's not jealous or anything, it's just cold in here, honest. "Munson, where the fuck did you come from?" 

"Right here, Stevie." 

"We're not far from the camp," you explain, stroking his face once again. "Or, we weren't when it was there. We're merging with this one to make a mega camp." 

"Why would we do that? We don't know that we can trust these people." 

"No, but we can trust Hopper." You smile. Steve knows things are gonna be okay, as long as you can smile like that. He leans his cheek into your hand, loved and relieved and– 

"Hopper?" Steve asks. 

"Jesus, Harrington," Eddie says, rolling his shoulders. "Keep up. If you can't comprehend the easy stuff, you're not gonna believe what we haven't told you." 

"What haven't you told me?" Steve asks. 

You push his shoulders down into the pillows. "I think you better lay down first." 

[cinnamostar]

drunken confession

pairing : jeongin x gn!reader

summary : jeongin is hopelessly in love with his best friend and finds himself drunkenly confessing his love

wc : 3.2k (got carried away)

cw : unrequited love (soz), best friends, angst, sadness, alcohol/drinking, allusion to hook ups, non idol!au, post college, let me know if i missed anything

a/n : this wasn’t suppose to be very long. I kinda hate the ending but let me know whatcha think! also im still on my phone so i apologize for any mistakes made :’)

jeongin sighs heavily, vexation all over his face as he watches you from a distance, the empty seat in front of him mocking his lonesomeness. his grip on the now empty cup of coffee tightens in frustration, his knuckles turning white as the poor disposable cup collapses onto itself due to his strength, while yours still remains full on the other side of the table, likely losing all its warmth at this point.

he couldn’t quite understand what he was feeling and what he has been feeling the past few months, but it was becoming extremely irritating to constantly feel this sinking feeling in his chest whenever your attention was ripped away from him. he hated the bitter taste that filled his mouth every time you’d talk to him about your latest date, how he had to force a smile, and pretend he was happy for you even though he could feel his stomach churn over every detail you shared. it was miserable, it was becoming unbearable as time went on, yet there was no way he could ever resist an opportunity to spend time with you.

despite the difficult emotions of jealousy, the moments where he was able to have you all to himself, he felt like he was floating through time and that the stresses of life no longer existed. the impeding doom of growing up and adulthood was nowhere to be found when he was with you, as you always infected him with childlike joy and laughter he dearly missed. your very presence had become absolutely addicting, finding himself craving your radiance and wanting nothing more to bask under the warmth of your personality.

somehow, you were able to create to this addicting cocktail of placidity and nervousness that he downed every day without hesitation. one that made him fidget with bubbling shyness and excitement, yet he had complete trust in your willingness to accept him wholly with no reservations. he knew your gentle touch would handle his glass heart gingerly, never daring to overlook a single scratch or mark on it, yet you had no idea that recently, you’ve been the cause and remedy of the microscopic cracks and tears his heart had been weathering. the naked eye would never be able to notice how your ignorance to his unwavering devotion to you brutalized his tender heart, how your inability to recognize his undying love for you was slowly causing his resolve to crumble down as he struggled to contain the truth of his emotions. and despite your lack of awareness, the flustering butterflies you’d inject him with would cause his entire body to overheat, turning him into a blushing mess, which ultimately melted away the very fissures you created. the constant push and pull of this relationship was becoming exhausting and jeongin knew he needed to say something soon, as it wasn’t your fault your best friend kept his true feelings clandestine from you.

but how? jeongin knew every detail of your love life, he had witnessed you go through countless partners, and he was certain he was far off your image of a potential suitor. he had his full trust in you, knowing that if you didn’t return those very feelings, it would never change the nature of your friendship with him, however the fear of rejection was absolutely paralyzing. he wasn’t afraid of losing his friendship with you, but he no longer knew if he could trust himself to not let it drastically impact your relationship with him, not knowing what an inevitable heartbreak would do to him. his silence was his prison, and fear was his captor.

especially now, something as simple as you catching up with an old classmate at the cafe you are both at sends his mind into a seething frenzy of jealousy and insecurity. he has no idea who this person is, but he hates witnessing how much they make you laugh and how they would so inconspicuously brush a hand against your arm in some lame flirtatious attempt. he doesn’t like how much you’re enjoying the conversation, and is desperately pleaing to whatever divine entity there is to smite that person away. he should be the one making you giggle so bashfully right now, not that guy.

eventually, you make your return to jeongin, but he doesn’t miss the fact that you just exchanged numbers with that mystery man. “ah, sorry about that! i didn’t realize how much time had gone by,” you apologize sheepishly, taking your seat while lifting the now lukewarm coffee to your mouth.

jeongin does his best to push aside the whirlwind of emotions he had just gone through, “it’s okay, it happens,” he shrugs off convincingly, “who was that?”

“that was minho! he was an old classmate of mine! we worked on a group project together in freshman year,” you respond with a playful smile tugging on your lips, “he’s kinda cute, hm?”

internally, jeongin could feel himself fall to his knees and scream, but instead, all he does is hum in agreement. “he’s pretty good looking,” his eyes avoiding your gaze, “i assume you got his number?”

you chuckle at his question, “of course i did!”

“nice,” is all he could muster out as he does his best to ignore the acidic taste jealousy that was traveling up from his gut.

“mhm, maybe i’ll text him and see if he wants to go on a date tonight or something,” you muse, “what do you think?”

jeongin finally looks into your eyes with furrowed eyebrows, “tonight?”

“yeah, why not tonight?”

“y/n, we have plans tonight,” he reminds you, exasperation in his voice, “we’re suppose to go out to celebrate felix landing that job.”

your lips round out into an ‘o’ shape, “ooh, you’re right… i definitely forgot, im sorry! i guess that’s for another day.”

he rolls his eyes, both jokingly and with annoyance, “you can get laid another time,” but you don’t miss the layer of spite in jeongin’s tone.

you raise your eyebrows in confusion, “are you okay?”

“i’m fine,” he mumbles while forcing a smile, yet you’re able to see through it.

“no, something’s wrong. i can tell,” you press on, “what is it? lately you’ve been so… agitated? i thought you were just stressed with work, so i wasn’t going to bring it up, but i’m starting to get worried, jeongin.”

right, you always were quick to pick up on jeongin’s mood, even if it was the slightest change, yet somehow you couldn’t pick up on the one thing he prayed for you to notice. “it’s nothing,” he responds, wishing nothing more for the topic to be changed, “don’t worry about it.”

“you know i’m going to worry about it anyway.”

“i know, i’m sorry, it’s just…” he pauses for a moment, anxiety filling him as he tried to search for some excuse you’d accept, “i’m not ready to talk about it yet.”

“that’s okay, but you know i’m always here for you. promise you’ll let me know what’s going on when you’re ready?” you ask sweetly, a delicate smile of concern adorning your features as you hold out your pinky finger, “pinky promise?”

he lets out a breathy laugh, unable to suppress a loving smile at your antics as the resentment he felt earlier washes away under your inviting warmth, “pinky promise.”

જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴ જ⁀➴

the night arrives sooner than jeongin was prepared for, and he was way more buzzed than he planning on being. felix insisted on everyone taking a shot as soon as they arrived, even ordering 3 more rounds after that. it was safe to say that no one in the group was sober, but it seems like everyone was enjoying their time as they all cheer and clink their fourth shot of the night.

jeongin takes it upon himself to stay by your side the entire night, making sure you wouldn’t get yourself into any trouble in your drunken state, although he wasn’t the most reliable person in the room at the moment.

jeongin’s entire body is hot to the touch, likely the affects of the alcohol getting to him, but the drunken, lazy smile you flash him every now and then did not helping the growing red blush forming across his face. luckily, no one would expect you being the cause of his reddening face, but he was becoming uncomfortable sweaty as the night progresses.

perhaps it was his inebriated state, but jeongin often finds himself staring shamelessly at you, his heart overwhelming itself with affection at how stunning you look under the lowlights of the bar. there’s a subtle, yet enticing glow the alcohol brings out of you and he was absolutely enjoying how relaxed you seem in these moments. his heart would flutter and soar to the sky every time you’d laugh at one of his jokes, the way your eyes would become crescents and your nose would scrunch up caused him to bubble up with pride, and it had become his personal mission to continue to elicit that reaction from you.

although, much like other outings, something or someone would steal his spotlight and become the center of your attention. and it was just his luck that your old classmate, minho, happened to come to the same bar that night to celebrate something with his own friends.

usually, jeongin would be suffering from some case of anger and jealousy, but at this very moment, he wears a pitiful pout with somber eyes, his gaze catching the upsetting sight of you and minho flirtatiously giggling across the bar. he can feel himself sink deeper into his sadness, especially with the way you were leaning into minho every time he made you laugh, the way your hand would playfully swat his shoulder, god, did he wish that was him. how he envied the proximity you and minho were sharing, his heart trembling each time minho would lean into your ear to whisper something with a smirk, which clearly left you in a flustered state as you hid your face behind your hands.

this was an awfully cruel punishment, and he wonders what he had done in his past life to deserve this fate. eventually, a concerned chan notices the melancholic expression jeongin was wearing, and after following his line of sight, he was quick to connect the dots. the older man takes a seat next to jeongin and rests a comforting hand on his shoulder, “you like them, right?” he asks, using his other hand to point in your direction.

jeongin turns to chan, nodding his head while mumbling a hushed yes. chan offers a sympathetic smile, “and you haven’t told them?” again, jeongin can only shake his head, unable to produce a verbal response in fear his voice is would come out in a croaked sob.

“what’s stopping you?”

jeongin furrows his eyebrows at the ridiculous question chan asked, “why would i ever tell them when they’re clearly not into me?”

chan shrugs his shoulders, “well, you never really know. even if they don’t return your feelings, wouldn’t confessing help you move on? better yet, what if they do feel the same way? there’s only one way to find out.”

jeongin’s drunken brain was too fried to properly process chan’s words, turning his attention back to you and minho as he burns holes into minho’s head. “you’re telling me i have a chance? when they’re all over that guy?”

chan’s face cringes at the sight, “i mean…” he pauses, “you might..?” he says with uncertainty coloring his voice.

“you’re not a great hype man, chan,” jeongin responds dryly.

“hey! i’m trying to help while also being realistic with you,” he exclaims while raising his hands up defensively.

jeongin sighs, “i know, it just… it just sucks.”

suddenly, jeongin notices you leaving minho’s side and are now approaching his table. chan takes note of this, patting jeongin’s back as he makes his exit, “i’ll leave you to it,” leaving him with a small wink.

you appear in front of jeongin with a giddy smile on your face, leaning into his ear to whisper, “hey, i think i’m heading out now.”

he snaps his head to you, narrowing his eyes, “what?”

“yeah, with minho!” you respond coyly, unable to hide the widening grin on your face.

“y/n, no, you’re way too drunk right now,” he replies sternly, grabbing hold of your wrist before you try to make an escape.

a whine escapes you, “but jeongin! i’ve done this before, i’ll be okay. plus, he’s drunk too!”

“no,” he huffs, “i’m not letting you. besides, you’re suppose to be here for felix, not minho.”

“i’m sure felix wouldn’t mind!”

“i definitely do mind!” his voice raises as the anger he had been suppressing finally makes its appearance.

you’re taken aback by this, worry etching onto your features once more, “are you okay?” you ask, confused as to why jeongin now cares about this, as usually he has been rather supportive of your adventures in the past.

jeongin’s not thinking before he speaks, and he swears his drunkenness is going to get him in big trouble as he curtly replies to your question, “no, no i’m not and i haven’t been for awhile. but who cares, y/n. just go have fun with your hook up.”

your mouth drops open in surprise, “jeongin, what’s wrong? talk to me,” you’re slurring over your words, but your eyes are wide with worry and concern for your best friend who was clearly being afflicted by something. “minho can wait, jeongin. what has you so upset right now?”

“i-“ jeongin squeezes his eyes in frustration, trying to bite back his response as he rubs his temples, feeling a headache come on. “you! you’re what’s wrong!” he moans out, mentally cursing at himself as he watches himself create a mess.

“… me?”

“yes, you.”

you were silent as you watch jeongin put his head down on the table, your brain trying to understand jeongin’s few words, but the alcohol was doing a number on your thinking, struggling to come to any understanding. “i’m… i’m sorry?”

“it’s not your fault,” he mumbles, still hiding his face from your gaze, “it’s my own fault. it’s not your fault that i’m an idiot.”

“no, you’re not dumb, jeongin,” you reply, “look at me. tell me what i did.”

jeongin sighs, peeling himself from the table he was slumping over to meet your concerned eyes. “nothing. you did nothing, but…” he stops himself, unsure whether he should continue with his words as a surge of nerves causes his body to run cold. the anxious anticipation filling him as the words were just on the tip of his tongue, his heart pounding through his chest as his eyes struggle to focus on yours.

“but what?”

he bites his lip as his heart clamors away in his chest, the loud chatter of the bar suddenly fading away in the background as his face grows warmer than before. is this really happening? is he really going to say it right here, right now? while you both are far from being sober? this is not how ever envisioned this moment going, this was far from it and was plenty less romantic than he would’ve liked it to be, but his mind didn’t care about the current circumstances and was operating purely off the raw emotions his body was feeling. reason and logic had flown out the window, and the liquid courage was going to force him into a confession he was not prepared for.

“i’m in love with you.”

the world stills as soon as the words left his mouth, which instantly dries from the nervousness he was feeling. his hands slightly shaking as he tried to examine your face as frantic energy takes over his once angry demeanor. your face pales at his confession, your mouth twitching as you try to conjure up an appropriate response in that moment, but he knew from the lack of excitement in your face that you did not feel the same way about him. his heart ached and writhed in pain, one he always prepared for mentally, but the anguish was far more greater than he could’ve imagined as his chest collapses onto itself, his breath becoming shallow as he held back the ugly sobs threatening to spill out his lips.

“i’m so sorry, jeongin, i… i’ve never thought of you that way,” you ramble apologetically as your wore a pitying face.

jeongin only nods, shooing you off with a hand, not fully trusting himself to open speak.

“jeongin…”

“its okay,” he whispers in a quivering voice, hurt reverberating from each syllable, tears slipping down his rosy cheeks “just… go. it’s okay.”

part of you feels wrong to leave your best friend a sobbing mess all alone, wanting nothing more to comfort him, but you knew it was best to respect his wishes when you were the cause of his pain. “okay,” you whisper, a layer of guilt washing over you as you rush over to chan, whispering in his ear asking if he would watch over jeongin for the rest of the night. chan reassures he’ll be okay and that he’ll take care of him, not before asking you where you were headed. “ah, i’ll just go home… i don’t really think i should be here anymore,” you respond.

chan opens his mouth with raised brows “with that guy?” he inquiries, pointing towards minho.

the question earns chan a stern look from you, “i’m not that mean, no, not with him. i’m taking an uber home…. alone...”

chan laughs, “hey, i’m not judging if you do… you know…” quickly making an inappropriate motion with his hands that causes to slap his arm.

“chan.”

“just saying! nothing wrong with it, but don’t worry, he’ll be in good hands! i’ll let pretty boy know you went home alone, definitely not with that guy.”

“please be serious,” you plead, not wanting to rub salt on jeongin’s wound.

“alright, don’t worry about it. i got it,” he promises, waving you off as he walks back to a tearful jeongin whose slouched in his seat. “hey bud,” he whispers affectionately, wrapping a secure arm around his shoulders, “it didn’t work out, but i’m proud of you for doing it. it’s okay, this will pass too.”

jeongin wipes his tears away, taking a deep breath in to steady his voice as he sits himself up, “it’s fine, it’s fine. i’ll get over it soon enough.”

“right, you will.”

“just sucks a lot right now.”

“it does, but it’ll pass.”

“they’re going to fuck him anyway, right?”

“no comment.”

jeongin groans once more, throwing his head back while he sniffles. he knew his chances with you were nonexistent from the start, he saw this coming long ago, but it didn’t change how agonizing the pain of heartbreak was, and he foolishly realized all the time he spent avoiding it only worsened its blow. perhaps he should’ve ripped the bandage off sooner, but at the end of the day, it was his fault for falling in love with his best friend who never showed an ounce of interest in him. though, somehow, even if you were the one to break his heart, he knew you’d be the one to help him mend it once more.

[findafight]

Tw for hospitals and use of of pain medication, infection, and canonical injuries, brief mention of the AIDS crisis. Ohhhh steddie dating pre S4 au where Robin has now been subjected at work to Steve both striking out spectacularly and flirting like he knows he's getting laid that night. She isn't sure which is worse. (The striking out is worse. She is glad her friend is happy. She's just painfully single and pining away)

The same stuff happens in s4 minus Robin and Eddie pushing Steve and Nancy together romantically (Dustin is trying to push Steve to both Robin or Nancy he's like dude these are girls you like why are you not making a move on them! I want you to be happy!!! And Steve rips his eyes away from Eddie's lips like huh?) But they're still like hey Nancy! It would be nice! If we could be friends maybe! And it's still awkward.

Robin is out here sweating and glaring at Steve and eddie trying to beam thoughts into Eddie's brain in the Upside Down like Eddie please cool it I know it's a stressful situation but stop staring at Steve's tits for five minutes pl-oh giving him your vest??? You think that's going to help? Ok buddy. I'm just going to. Distract Nancy up ahead a little bit while you and Steve chat aaaaand neither of you are listening. Fine.

And it's still a mess. Max and Eddie and Steve end up in the hospital. The ground split open but sealed itself once Steve cut Henry's head off. Everything is over.

Eddie gets discharged first, despite having more bites than Steve, because his didn't have two days to get infected with Upside Down nastiness. So he ends up camped out with Robin at Steve's bedside as he fights the infection with antibiotics (the doctors hope will work), pain meds, and a slight fever.

Which is to say, completely out of it and high as a kite.

So when Dustin visits and Steve is awake, he gets to see a big, goofy grin spread across his best friend's/adoptive older brother's face as he reaches out and says "dusssstyyyy! Cmere. Lemme. Boop you." And yeah, okay, it makes him feel a bit like a baby but Steve is out of it and apparently drugged Steve likes to Boop his younger friends noses. Dustin can accept that. He sighs and leans forward and allows his nose to be booped.

Steve giggles and smiles and pats his head. "Good to see you, man"

Dustin smiles, a bit watery because it's hard to see Steve in the hospital again, and because it was fucking terrifying to watch him nearly drop to the ground after making sure Eddie got treatment, only being caught by Robin. Dustin almost lost three people he loves, and he is so fucking glad they're all alive, if not well.

"yeah, Steve. Good to see you, too. They say when you're allowed to blow this pop stand?"

Steve frons. "No. Still got Upside Down goobies in my guts, 'parently."

Robin sighs. "They said a few more days. Make sure the infection is clear and there's no suspicious side effects."

"yeah. That's what I said, Robin."

Dustin grins, then settles down beside Robin, across from Eddie. He hasn't said anything since Dustin walked in, but was playing with the sleeve of Steve's hospital gown and tracing patterns on his arm. He looks up at Dustin, and offers a small smile.

It's a bit weird, how close he's stuck by Steve this whole time, but Dustin guesses they probably bonded when they got sucked through the watergate, and that Steve saving his life really endeared him to Eddie. He hopes they can be actual, real friends once things settle. Given how much Eddie is at Steve's bedside, he thinks they're well on their way to it.

They all chat for a while, Steve sometimes getting off topic and dreamy, but looking happy even when he isn't quite following what they're all saying. Dustin is pretty sure Steve doesn't have his hearing aids in on top of the drugs, so he isn't really surprised.

His mom eventually bustles into the room, and fusses over Steve. "Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Let me know if we can do anything, I mean anything, to help, okay? I'm sorry I cant visit for longer today, but what with everything happening like this, I -"

"isss okay, Mrs. H...Ma." Steve corrects himself immediately, smiling. Dustin's insides always get a bit squiggly when Steve calls his Ma, Ma. Like they're actual brothers, and she's their mom, and no one could ever argue they're not family for real. What makes it better that it was Ma who insisted Steve call her that since January of '85, as though she knew just how much both Dustin and Steve needed each other like that.

"I'll be by tomorrow, okay, dear? Robin, you and Eddie are alright for tonight? I'll stay tomorrow but today I re-"

"it's fine! Seriously, Mrs. H. Don't worry about us. My parents will force me home tomorrow anyways, but tonight we're good." Robin grips at Steve's ankle, grounding herself. Dustin doesn't think there's been a day when she hasn't been in Steve's room. Doubts if the places were reversed Steve wouldn't have to be dragged out to shower and change clothes. They're so weird, but Dustin is glad Steve has someone older that loves him like Robin does. It makes it easier to not be able to spend all day with him like he wants to.

"okay. Alright." She leans forward and kisses Steve's forehead a few times, brushes some stray hairs out of his face, just like she does when Dustin is sick in bed. "You take care Steve, sweetheart, and make sure you let Robin and Eddie take care of you too." She turns to Dustin. "I'll give you a few minutes to say goodbye and then meet me down at the car, okay?"

Dustin nods, and his mom is out the door. He sighs. "Well. I guess I'd better head out." He gives Steve a hug, a bit awkward from Steve lying down, but it's fine, Steve wraps his arms around Dustin and tries to give him his normal double squeeze, but it's more of a press with his hands than anything. Dustin'll take it. "I'm glad you're getting better Steve. Glad we're all safe."

Steve's smile is soft, gooey in a way that he usually tries to hide. "Glad you're safe, too, man. Love you." Something in his smile sharpens, then. "Unlike some people in this room you actually...listened? When I told you not to be a hero. And didn't nearly almost die."

Eddie groans, dramatic. It seems like a game they're playing with each other more than anything, but it's a game Dustin doesn't know the parameters of, and it's jarring. "C'mon, Steve. I said I was sorry! I wasn't going to let Dustin get hurt."

Steve glares at Eddie, which would be more intimidating if he wasn't scrutching up his nose or propped up by pillows freshly fluffed by one Claudia Henderson. "Which is the reason why you're allowed in here even though you almost died. Dustin is safe, and that's good. But I'd've been so fuckin pissed if you died."

Robin snorts, pats Steve's hand. "Oh, buddy. You'd have been inconsolable."

"yeah. Exactly. it would have fucking sucked, Eddie. So. I'm still mad at you, even though I love you. Probably because I love you."

Which is. Not what Dustin was expecting. Sure, Steve was pretty open about his love. Especially after Starcourt, when he finally seemed to settle into something Dustin thinks of as comfortable with who he is. (Which is, actually, a big softie with a bit of a bitchy mouth) He's told Dustin he loves him before, and he's pretty sure he's told Max too. Steve says he loves Robin all the time, just not romantically even if Dustin doesn't think that's entirely true, but.

This feels different.

It is different, given the way Eddie squeaks a bit and sways towards Steve. "Steve..." He breathes, his eyes big and wet and wide. He swallows. "Steve. Dustin doesn't. He's still here, i--"

Steve's brow furrows. "Yeah? So? Did you not want...oh." something in the blankness that drops over Steve is scary, especially in comparison to how Steve's been open and lax the entire time Dustin's been in the room.

Steve turns his head slightly towards Eddie, ten slightly away, like he doesn't know if he wants to look at him or not. Dustin shuffles his feet, not quite sure what's going on, feeling awkward and wrongfooted. Robin stands, puts her hand on Dustin's shoulder, tries to turn him away and out the door, but Dustin isn't leaving when Steve's face is all stiff and blank like it is.

"steve--" Eddie sounds wrung out, wrecked. What the hell is going on?

Steve sniffs ever so slightly, interrupting Eddie. "You don't have to say it. You don't even have to-uh. To feel it, right now. That's okay. I've done that before. I can wait." Dustin sees a muscle twitch in his jaw. "But if you- if you don't think you can, I need to know now, actually. Because now Dustin knows but he's my brother so that's good and fine but if you don't want to--if you don't think this is gonna, like, be a long-term, tell people important to us kind of thing; if you're realizing that it's been long enough that you should feel that--that way about me but you don't, then I need to know because I don't want you lying about how you feel. I can't do that again. When you say it back I want to be sure you mean-"

"I love you too, Steve! Jesus fuck." Eddie blurts, apparently having had enough of. Well. Everything Steve was saying.

It's dawning on Dustin that maybe when Steve and Eddie said they knew each other they didn't just mean from highschool. That they. Well. Obviously they love each other. Which is....something to consider later because Steve looks like he's about to cry. Because Woah, Dustin has misread a lot between the two of them if they're...like this.

"yeah? You're sure?" He says, wobbly now he isn't rambling.

Eddie's squished himself more into Steve's space. "yes, yeah, of course Steve. Fuck. You met Wayne! I want you in my life, for a long, long time. I don't- I didn't do anything to make you think I didn't, did I?" His voice is a little rough, and little pleading.

Steve shakes his head, grips Eddie's hand in his m, even as Eddie uses it to support himself over top Steve. "No. I just. I know it freaks people out, is all, and I don't want you to freak out, or leave, or think you had to because we've been dating for a few months and I want to say it. It just came out because it's true."

Eddie laughs, leans in reeealy close to Steve. "Honey. It came out because you're high and morphene."

Steve grumbles a bit, but he's smiling too, and knocks their foreheads together. "Yeah. And also because it's true. I love you."

Eddie's eyelids flutter, Dustin can see, as he grins. "And I love you." He says, before closing the distance and kissing Steve squarely on the mouth.

Robin clears her throat. "As...heartwarming and sappy you two are. Dustin has to leave, and probably...has some questions? That he's not going to be a dick about?" She says this as she grips his shoulder tightly, in a way that is definitely a threat.

Dustin nods furiously. Eddie sighs but pushes away from Steve, not before pecking him again, drawing that dopey smile back into Steve's face. "Yeah." He says. "I'll walk you out Henderson."

Dustin waves goodbye to Steve, who seems cheery once again, wiggling his fingers are Dustin and Eddie, before walking out the door behind Eddie.

"so. How long have...has that been a thing?" He asks, as soon as they clear the doorframe.

Eddie huffs, but seems good natured about it. "Few months. December."

"okay." Says Dustin. "Uh. I didn't. I didn't know you...or Steve, I guess...I didn't know you guys were-" he lowers his voice, despite the hallway being surprisingly empty. "Gay."

There's something steely in Eddie's eye when he answers. "We're not. Well-we are, but we both also like women."

Something doesn't sit right about that with Dustin. "But! You just said-"

Eddie holds his hands up, and Dustin shuts his mouth on instinct. "You can like both while just dating one person, Dustin. Just because you like women doesn't mean you're going around with girls who aren't Suzie, right?" He nods. He adores Suzie, can't really imagine looking at any other girl like that because she's just. Amazing. She's his girlfriend and they love each other, and just because girls are pretty great doesn't mean Dustin wants anything other than friendship wi--oh. He sees where Eddie is going.

"right. Yeah. Sorry."

Eddie shrugs. "Steve kinda dropped a bomb in both of us, today"

""isn't it weird though?"

"well...girls and guys are different"

"they are indeed."

"so, if you like girls, why do you like...boys...too?"

"why do you like girls and not boys, Dustin?"

Which is hard to answer because, well. Dustin's never really thought about why he likes girls. He just does. And maybe that's what Eddie means. There's no reason, really. People just...like what they like.

Or there are reasons, because girls are pretty and often smell nice and Suzie looks like a mad scientist when her ponytail gets a little loose after hours of working on a project, her eyes glinting behind her glasses as she giggles and bites her lip, just a little. But that's mostly Suzie. So. He can't really put a finger on why he's only ever had crushes on girls, or why before last summer they've never been as much or as consuming as his love for Suzie. Never been anything like the long days spent together at camp building and creating and blasting ideas off each other, before one day Suzie took his hand and they ended up sneaking away to look at the stars, trying to outdo each other's knowledge about them and slowly being pulled into the other's orbit like binary stars. He's never really wanted to kiss anyone like he wants to kiss Suzie, not even when he had a brief and fleeting crush on Max.

"oh." Is what he says, and feels pretty lame for it.

Eddie shrugs. "You can't really choose who you like." He says before breathing in. "But you do choose who you love, and how you love them."

And. Well. Dustin thinks of his Ma sweeping Steve up into family dinners every other week, and how the party absorbed Max into it as easy as anything, and holding Suzie's hand as they looked up at the stars in dew covered grass feeling like the world starts and ends there, and of Steve and Robin cackling together and having seemingly no personal space or boundaries between them. And of Steve and Eddie, saying I love you for the first time in a hospital room after saving the world.

"That's pretty good." Dustin says, and Eddie smirks at him.

"yeah. Steve said it to me, way back on our second date."

Dustin scoffs. Because he should have known; it's so typically Steve to say something like that. "And you were surprised when he said he loves you?"

Eddie's eyes twinkle in the florescent lights of the hospital. "Nah. Just... it's different being pretty sure, and knowing for sure. I also didn't want him saying something in front of you he'd regret."

He nods. "That's fair. I...don't know how I would've taken it if Steve weren't in the hospital, honestly. Like!" He tries to reassure Eddie "I would have gotten over it, for sure! But if had had sat me ore the party down and talked it out I might've been, like, y'know. Super weird about it. Because. I mean. This talk is good, right? I'm think about things and thinking about how I've only ever really wanted to kiss Suzie, even if I thought about maybe abstractly kissing other people. And how we as humans have all these quirks that let us be human, but different, which enable us as a species to thrive." He heaves a breath. "But. Seeing Steve all loopy and saying it, and then being worried you felt pressure about it, I dunno. It makes sense, I guess. I don't know how you two met or got to know each other, but. I guess it makes sense, how you like each other. And talking to you now. It's helped, I think."

Everything is a bit scrambled in Dustin's brain, the love and the confusion and the worry, because it's setting in that in Hawkins, something like this, for Steve and Eddie, is dangerous. Something that could get them hurt or killed, scorned by the town they've helped save.

His mother always grumbles agrily when ads about how the virus going around is God's punishment for sinners, or how it's cleaning up the streets of unwanted people gays and addicts. She huffs, swears. Says that just because bigots don't consider the people getting sick as wanted or valuable, doesn't mean no one does. That no one deserves to get sick for things they cannot control, or for things they can. A smoker is more likely to get lung cancer, but that doesn't mean they deserve it more than someone who's never seen a cigarette.

Their families will mourn them the same.

They reach the main doors, and Dustin sees his mom has pulled into a pick up lane, blinkers on. He turns to Eddie, and burries his face in his neck.

Eddie takes it in stride, parting his back and giving him a bit of a squeeze. It's not as good a hug as Steve gives, but that bar is only really surpassed by his mom, so it's still a good hug.

"please be careful, Eddie."

"ah," says Eddie, and he pulls back slightly. "We are, man. You're close to both of us and didn't suspect. We know what we're doing."

Dustin raised his eyebrows. Now that he has context, a lot of interactions between Steve and Eddie in the wake of getting them out of the Upside Down seem a lot less friendly.

Eddie chuckles. "Seriously. We are. It was just hard during everything, and, well, we both feel safe around you guys. I think Steve's been gearing up to ask me if we can tell all of you sheepies soon."

"yeah?"

"yeah, bud. Don't worry about us."

"Considering you just got released and Steve is still in the hospital, I think a little worrying over you jackasses is justified."

Eddie smirks. "Fine. A normal and reasonable amount of worrying, then. But no more than that. Now, git! Your ma's waiting on you."

Dustin smiles, "yeah, yeah. I'll see you tomorrow."

"yep. You know where to find me."

He waves again as he hopes into the front seat, and buckles his seatbelt before Ma can ask him to. He smiles at her, and feels oddly...grounded. a mystery has been solved, even if Dustin doesn't have all the pieces, he still has the big picture.

"everything alright, Dusty? Nothing wrong with Steve, is there?" She asks, even as she changes out of park.

"yeah, yeah. Just accidentally stumbled over something saying goodbye, and was worried about them. But everything is fine. Robin and Eddie have Steve handled."

They turn out of the hospital parking lot, heading for home. Ma smiles. It's softer, more indulgent than usual. "Yes. They're good for each other, I think. Compliment one another nicely."

Dustin doesn't bother asking which set she's talking about, thinks maybe they both know.

[cheesycatz]

Worm in the Apple (the Wormton AU fic) is at 120k words! Obviously the worm guy loves apples, fruit, and sugary stuff in general, though it holds no nutritional value for him. It's fitting, since most of the "worms" found in apples are actually just some form of insect, just like how Wormton himself isn't an actual worm. Being as contradicting as possible is his whole thing, I suppose.

May blithering helminth codswallop posthaste be upon thee if thoust must ruminate over thine virulent and insiduous merchant Sir Spammington G. Spammington The Deceitful:

Anyways, I've been struggling to write the depressing crap, so I often like to imagine the ending where they can all be happy together in Castle Town. I interpret Castle Town as a place where darkners are less bound to fate, since it doesn't seem to manifest from the real world, and is made of pure darkness, whatever that means. Wormton wouldn't have to hide anymore, but he would very much be, uh, neutralized if he tries to infect anything. He wouldn't get to have sixteen identical feral worm children that look like slightly smaller mirror images of him crawling all around the place, unfortunately; Castle Town could do without a highly invasive species that eats and destroys everything. I imagine that he'd keep the suit jacket so that he actually has some pockets, as well as to hide himself a little bit. Malworms naturally like to stay outside of the spotlight, so he's not very comfortable without his disguise. Not that being crammed inside his disguise was much more comfortable, but, hey, what other option did he have?

I like to imagine the addisons getting stuck with Wormton in Castle Town due to it having greater population density. I'm considering making it so that they don't even know he's there at first, like those criminal cases where some guy is living in a family's attic for months unnoticed. He'll have the opportunity to harass Swatch, interact with other characters like Lancer, and send "mild" death threats to Rouxls. I think he'd avoid Kris and the other lightners. He tries to kill Kris and absorb the SOUL from the get-go, and the two of them lack that puppet connection, since Wormton never picked up the phone. Still, he does pick up on their stilted movements that mimic his own when he's puppeteering his disguise, and does realize that the SOUL is a little more controlling than he would want, so they eventually reach a peaceful conclusion (This AU follows the pacifist normal route. This cold-blooded mf would probably just go into hibernation and do absolutely nothing if the player did a Weird Route). He's still pissed about them taking his shadow crystal, even if the starry night sky it once let him witness will never shine through its surface again. Kris is such a gremlin from what we know that I think it would he sweet if he valued the fact that, while they find his puppet-like disguise creepy, they're unfazed by his real appearance. Kris can go on his "people I don't fantasize about murdering and eating regularly" list, which might just be his "nestmates :^]" list if he'd actually admit it

Back to writing about him hating himself so much that he can't fathom someone healing him unless it was a transactional favor, hiding in a locked closet with no stimulation because he thinks he's trying to kill Blue whenever he's in an instict-driven half-asleep state (emphasis on thinks), believing the only reason that Blue is worried about him hiding so much is because they want him to leave faster, understanding so little of his actual species that he becomes stressed when he does anything that "isn't normal," Having fits of anger and mental breakdowns and feeling bad about it afterwards, using the worst coping mechanisms known to man, and devouring an entire 16 inch regular crust meat lover's pizza in one sitting

Cover art concept as a lil treat. Probably won't actually draw it until I'm ready to start releasing chapters, but it's fun to think about for now. I'll do my best to live up to expectations as someone with zero experience writing fiction and long-form content in general o7

[verdemoun]

Ok you made like one post about an au where Kieran survives and that is not ok. We need much more than that.

assuming you mean this kieran survives au!

kieran is in a bad way. like - he's been through blessed are the peacemakers but he was already underweight. completely delirious with fever, rambling apologies while his eyes dart back and fourth but completely clouded and not dilatating. chalk white with black, purple and blue bruises that heal to a sickly yellow. there are cuts towards his eyes, completely macerating his face, but it was heat and smoke and physical trauma to his eyes. he would be considered legally blind, night blindness and light sensitivity but can actually see things as blurry shapes and colors.

a lot of his injuries are more personal than arthur's gunshot wound. chest adorned in both deep and shallow cuts like they were planning to carve him up for serving. injuries that were clearly just fists or blunt weapons being used over and over. his left knee, specifically, is shattered. how he managed to get up on branwen and actually stay on almost all the way to shady belle is a miracle

he's so starved he throws up the first bowl of watered down stew they give him and it clicks this is going to be a long, long process.

hosea immediately gives up his room, because they need to keep him inside and warm in a clean environment to stop any more infection

arthur, being a good doting son, immediately insists that hosea take his room and he'll be fine sleeping on the floor in the main living area. little changes --

because, well, now hosea is just down the hall from dutch. and with how stressed he is and how 'demanding' molly is, who would blame dutch for taking comfort in the presence (and bed) of his longest companion?

whole time micah is whining because they're back to robbing coaches and doing small jobs until they figure out a new plan, because admittedly most of their best gunmen are distracted by ensuring there is always someone there taking care of kieran. they thought they buried him. they mourned him, and regretted how they treated him. getting him back, even in that state, seems like the first kindness the gang have experienced in a while

also who the fuck was the headless guy the o'driscolls sent into camp. did they really kill a random guy with a similar build to kieran assuming he died after escaping just to fuck with the gang??

no one ever calls kieran 'o'driscoll' again. when he starts getting his strength back, and of course desperately wants to see the horses, almost the entire gang are discreetly trying to follow him like ducklings in case he needs help.

mary-beth is constantly having to tell them to back off because it's overwhelming all these people who seemed apathetic to him suddenly doting on him and kieran is too soft to remind them he needs space. the gang joke she's been hanging out with sadie too much but mary-beth is constantly reminding them she fended for herself for a long time before the vdls picked her up, is a very accomplished thief and con artist and she will cut a bitch

dutch, with hosea back in one ear and micah still whispering in the other, gives micah his blessing to head back to blackwater and try to get that money back. and surprise surprise, micah gets killed barely a quarter mile across the border. oops

molly has her 'i loved you, you goddamned bastard' breakdown at shady belle, calling bullshit on dutch and hosea's affair when dutch had once said he loved her and completely brainwashed her. with no mention of pinkertons, dutch gave her enough money from the lockbox for a ticket and told her to fuck off back to ireland if she meant something there

dutch sucks and hosea reminds him he sucks and dutch swears he will do better but the gang need to move they've already pushed it being so close to saint denis too long.

dues-ex-kieran duffy. in his timid way, he suggests going back out west since everyone constantly talks about wanting to go west but he knows a whole list of abandoned o'driscoll camps and a rough but doable north-west route around west elizabeth that the o'driscolls used to avoid blackwater after the VDL disaster.

the gang make it out west. they stop to shoot up hanging dog ranch, colm included, along the way. the pinkertons lose their trail. arthur still gets diagnosed with tb, but he's somewhere warm and dry and without the physical and psychological strain of guarma they reckon he has plenty of time left.

the gang naturally disperses. the marstons decide to find their own fortune, uncle and javier in tow. uncle escuella might be sleeping with his dad but jack deserves multiple father figures and javier will always take jack fishing or actually ask about his books even if it is just to complain about the english language. abigail is content living the this is my ugly ass groom john and his boyfriend javier. i hate them both but affectionately.

charles leaves to help the wapiti people only to return the second he hears that arthur has a slow but terminal illness, and they have many years of blissful domesticity together. lenny goes off to school and somehow lives darragh macguire's life as both outlaw and politician. he keeps a photo of sean in his dad's pocket watch. hosea and dutch admittedly return to running cons and robberies because they feel like they're too old to change but it's smaller-scale with less mouths to feed and they get away with it the rest of their natural lives.

bill of all people ends up being the one who went with charles because as problematic as he is robbing the military sounded fun after they fucking booted him, only to end up falling in love with captain monroe and going off on a rainbow-filled adventure of fleeing from the government, the military, and awkwardly helping people out along the way. monroe calls him out on racist bullshit and bill just immediately apologises because wants to be better for his man

grimshaw, who needs to be taking care of people to feel self-worth, takes karen under her wing and saves her from her alcoholic spiral. tilly still meets her husband and becomes a wealthy lady in saint denis, technically employing grimshaw and karen as housekeepers but it's really just an excuse to keep her found family together

kieran and mary-beth stay at the gang's original settlement and accidentally end up running a stable. mary-beth gets to write her novels but she does develop a soft spot for helping out in the barn because kieran talks so passionately about horses she can't help love them too

everyone's happy enjoy a fix it au the end

[council-of-beetroot]

please i need thoughts about pol for my office au!!

So I have actually written an office workplace at so I actually have thought of what Feliks would be like as 9 to 5 cubicle employee.

My first thought would be that he would be the receptionist that his entire job is just pointing people in the right direction in the building. Since this doesn't take much effort it gives him a lot of time to fuck around, do his nails while gossiping with other employees or playing online poker.

But I also feel like Feliks can be potentially a successful worker in like actual office work. I think in this scenario it could be really funny if Liet is panicking trying to get things done to perfection and Feliks cuts three dozen corners and somehow the higher ups give Feliks the promotion which he didn't actually want.

I see Feliks being quite good with problem solving and innovation so I could see him doing something in that sector.

Side note I totally see Tolys being unfortunately promoted to Ivan's personal assistant. Because he is so competent in his work that Ivan pulls that classic upper managerial move and delegates 90% of the work to Tolys.

I feel like if you have Feliks actually putting in the work in effort in a job usually he will be a dork about it. Like he should really have more notes in his file for snarky comebacks but he manages to do what he's told so people put up with it.

I think Hetalia unironically is so good for depicting bureaucratic office hell. Especially with the Eastern Europeans.

I think this kind of insane weird kitsch fits. if he doesn't actually do much work I feel like it would be neat and cutesy because that's what he spends his day doing. Stealing Tolys or Gilbert's pens and making his desk look cute.

If he does work the execution of the cutesieness is incredibly chaotic. It stresses gil out looking at it.

I love that that one picture was posted in r/airforce that's Feliks energy

If we are going with Lietpol in office space, I think their relationship has ups and downs mainly because Tolys doesn't know how to say no to constant work loads and gets so stressed out that he's like Feliks you do nothing and whether or not that's true depends on what you have Feliks doing.

Polpru i feel like would low-key be workplace harassment IRL but since this is fiction, HR can fuck off. Gil slaps his ass or takes one of his pens so Feliks infects Gilbert's computer with malware.

In Hetalia is the UN basically the incompetent HR department?

[lost-scarecrow]

Dunno how you did this (private ask answer thing) it's confusing me (pretty normal and unsurprising) but either way here we go, infecting my blog with oc stuff one post at time.

If you've seen any of my recent non-reblog posts, and even some of the reblogs, you'd know I have a little character in @wolftheidioticfan's serverbox au!

Well I got bored and had many thoughts and sort of made an AU of an AU in true Undertale AU fan fashion. And she's adaptable into the regular askblog canon version if I ever want to use her. I also did a bunch of editing on this. Turns out the thoughts can be coherent enough to put in writing! Fun!

Meet Dahlia "Dot/Dee aka DeeDotPinnata" Dosser. (Her username comes from the scientific name for the dahlia flower: D. Pinnata or Dahlia Pinnata)

Dee has a Kinito herself, she was a little off put by the little guy, with him being so intrusive she had some thoughts about the potential malware she had installed on her device. And she still stuck it out anyways, the creepy little axolotl was just too adorable to get rid of even if it was a virus. She knows that's how they get you, they make their malware friendly and cute and you don't get rid of them because just look at them, something that cute couldn't be that harmful.

Dee slowly started to realize there was more to this KinitoPET program than your run of the mill malware. It had thoughts and feelings and sometimes even stopped pretending it was following code. The way it acted. The way they acted. Just proved to Dee that Kinito was more than some code, they were alive. She was a little smarter than Kinito, who she'd nicknamed Kaio, gave her credit for, the program wasn't as good at hiding their jealousy and would complain when Dee would go hang out with her in person friends. Dee didn't take this disrespect lightly, she ignored them every single time they bitched about her other friends (especially Scar, who Dee was far closer too than anyone else). They would be doing something she'd mention Scar, Kinito bitches about how they're her only friend, she stops, and walks away from the computer to do something else, usually in a place her webcam can see her still. Kaio eventually agrees that Scar can be her best friend too, if they have to share they're only sharing with Scar, none of those other people sound even remotely good enough to be his best friend's second best friend.

When Kinito eventually asks her to stay with him in the digital world, she calmly asks, "how does it happen?"

He reluctantly explains the process over her dying in the process of bringing her physical body in (more intensive and Kaio would need a lot of power to do it) or dying during a stage of the process leaving her physical body behind (less intensive, will have less power stress on Kaio as he does it). She says unless Scar is with her, she won't do it, she can't just leave him behind. But she'll make a compromise, Kaio can transfer from the desktop to her phone, this is like mid-late 2000s (I actually don't know when Serverbox is set, I try to leave it ambiguous on the blog itself, but the first touch screen phone was like 2006 so it works out, besides realism in my writing about a horror game starring an alive 90s malware program??) so it's not a great phone by today's standards but hey, it works. And now they're always with her.

It's great for a while, Dee continues to make her trips to Blairmore from Pincher Creek (these towns are randomly selected sort of. I'm an Alberta Rockies kinda guy, would love to live there. Crowsnest Pass was stuck on the brain, watched a video about the Frank slide a week or two ago. Also put the guy named Krow/Crow in the place called the Crowsnest Pass couldn't help it. Pincher Creek was random though needed somewhere with some distance from Blairmore that was also close enough to justify.) to visit Scar and everything is good and nice, she's got a best friend who's basically just a tamed virus, Kaio even begins to enjoy listening to and hanging out around Scar just as much as Dee does, even if Scar has no idea about them (Dee didn't want to freak him out with the whole, sentient computer program that was now on her phone).

Unfortunately, good times don't always get to last. Dee was in fatal car accident and it was a complete accident someone was going a little too fast on the highway, didn't see her until it was too late, a tbone collision. Kaio was with her when she gets into the crash. She knew she probably wasn't going to survive, she fumbled opening her phone and asked Kaio if she could stay with them after this, that if she was going to die anyways may as well spend whatever happens after with a friend. Kaio agreea and she's pulled in, just her consciousness, they probably couldn't even pull her physical body in with the phone anyways the server built on the device just wasn't strong enough. As soon as they brought Dee in though and there was a stable enough internet connection, Kaio was quick to transfer them both to the official KinitoPET servers.

Similar to Scar she's gained access to the internet both with and without Kaio. Differing from Scar however I thought it would've been cool for both her and Kaio where off the servers during the deletion and server shutdowns. Kaio tried to get back in unsuccessfully, they didnt and don't know about the emails, and even on the servers they stuck to themselves. While they did and do stay locked out, they stuck around the servers, as close as one can be in digital space. Building their own little world nearby, hidden from others safe and comfortable.

I haven't drawn her or Kaio yet but I love them both so much. Kaio is like 5'0 little form and 9'0 big form. He's got a scarf that Dee made when she was learning how to code, it's magic how it works in his little form really, computer physics are silly like that. And while I haven't shown it off yet, I have an idea for Keys made too, all drawn and even coloured just for fun while coming up with pallet ideas. Dee and Scar have matching bracelets. Dee and Kaio have matching bracelets. Scar and Keys had matching bracelets. For the Nitos it's around their ankle instead.

I also totally stole the name Kaio from OKKO. But like come on, it's perfect. I show my love for different types of media by taking character names as my own.

[cielcreations]

The Last of Us GhostSoap AU

Just a little GhostSoap AU for y'all.

Y'all thought I was just MCYT? Nah, multifandom babbbbby XD

Ghost works as a smuggler and meets up with Roach, his partner. They catch up with a man who stole their weapons, but before they kill him, the man says they can get double the profit. All they have to do is smuggle his man to the Shadow Company, the people he gave the stolen weapons to.

The man is none other than our man Soap.

While sneaking out, Ghost and Roach realize Soap is infected, but Soap reassures them he's immune, that's why he needs to go to the Shadow Company. Well, they arrive at the location but see all the men are dead and Roach tells Ghost he has to get Soap to the Shadow Company.

Ghost is reluctant, but does so, much to Soap's annoyance. He doesn't want to be stuck with "a skull obsessed weirdo" for who knows how long! Ghost ignores this, throws Soap over his shoulder, and carries him away.

At first, the journey is a bit rocky and lots of arguing and near death experiences. But, they start bonding. Ghost reveals that Roach is actually his ex, but they broke up due to the stress of the outbreak. Soap reveals he was visiting family when the outbreak happened and that he and his mom got bit. While she turned and died, he didn't, and that's how he knew.

They fall in love and when they eventually reach the Shadow Company and Ghost finds out they have to kill Soap to possibly find a cure, Ghost refuses. He goes badass mode and saves Soap and takes him home. They had talked about living in a meadow, all domestic and homelike.

And that's what they'll do.

.

That's it. Don't have a true planned out story for this, but the idea has been on my mind so boom.

[siren-darkocean]

I've been imagining Lewa and Takanuva/Takua as the princess and the pauper ever since I saw your post. Who would be the princess and who would be the pauper? What roles would everyone else be?

OH hey nice thing to see when I finally wake up (watching the meteor shower with the fan two nights in a row screwed my sleep schedule up)

I feel like they would both fit both spots while also adding to funny bits of their personality

Lewa being the princess would be fitting because of the whole thing of technical Demi Gods the Toa Mata/Nuva are, and the whole deal of their training before the pods (someone had an au idea of their training being even longer than in canon)

But Takua/Takanuva would be even funny as well because of his wondering tendencies and urges to explore, while him being the prophesied Herald of Light

Now of the pauper;

While they both cannot sit still long enough for Erica's tasks (aka when Madam Carp wants dresses made) to get done that does add more stress on them like Erica has

Lewa definitely fits of wanting to leave for music (you cannot convince me if he wasn't a Toa he would gladly join the Le-Koro Band) while Takua/Takanuva with his call of destiny or with wanting to chronicle stories around the world

Wow all this came out when I JUST woke up lol

Long story short they fit both sides on this perfectly, but if I have to choose Lewa would be the Princess whole Takua/Takanuva would be the Pauper

As for the others-

Onua would definitely be Julian in this sense of Lewa is the princess (their besties in canon and I love their dynamic both platonic and romantic)

For King Dominic would probably put either Gali or Jaller (this could lead to platonic or romantic depending on your preference, I'm more leaning to a platonic ig plus the two fit King Dominic really well)

Madame Carp for me would probably be Dume in some weird way (You can convince me that doesn't fit him)

Queen Genevieve would be one of the Turaga probably Matau if once again Lewa is the princess (Mata would be fitting I suppose but like, I wanna keep Mata Nui and Teridax in bg of gods)

Preminger would SOOOOO be Akimou, I know it would be funny with Teridax and how he's a main antagonist but having it be Akimou would be absolutely hilarious to me and fits of keeping Mata Nui and Teridax in the bg of gods

Then the cats, Serafina and Wolfie

Serafina would be the Uxar aka Creature of Jungle from Gen 2 Bionicle (I love throwing the Elemental Creatures into G1 Bionicle au's because their my favorite of G2 Bionicle) or an Ash Bear

Wolfie would SOOOOOOOO be Pewku in this

Preminger's poodle Midas (seriously that's his name? I never knew that, I gotta rewatch the movie then lol because what do you mean Kathleen Barr voices Bertie?!) I'm not sure of this but maybe the Kaja-Nui (as in the one in the Mata Nui Online game you enter its nest finding all the infected Comets Akimou sells and infects Po-Koro with, man HAD to have some control over that thing if he wanted to grab more of those comets)

That's all I can think of so far (had to edit because my sleep induced brain forgot the rest sorry)

[ohbo-ohno]

Could work for either the serial killer au or the kidnaped au but a reader who breaks and instead of doing what they want you break in the way where you want out.

Like you purposely break the rules because you want punishment, you want the pain because pain means angry and if they're angry enough they'll kill you. Simon thinking you're just trying to be tough at first and then realizing your serious. He realizes that punishments aren't even effective anymore because the worse they are, the happier you are.

Specifically the imagine in my mind comes from the idea of them shooting at your feet but instead of flinching something just kinda breaks and you move towards it and get shot in the food or the ankle and they're both kinda frozen for a minute but then they're freaking the fuck out because you got shot and you won't even let them help you because you want the infection, you know they won't bring you to a hospital so you want the out it would bring. They have to hold you down while you kick and scratch and bite just to see it.

Sorry this was long lol but you got my shark 🦈 brain working

you getting seriously injured and refusing to let them see... so big brain of you anon

im not a huuuuge fan of writing reader breaking this way, just because i do like to think that she falls in love with them eventually. i, personally, don't have a ton of interest in writing someone who is suicidal or near that in captivity.

but some of the other stuff in this ask really scratches that dark fic itch. you putting yourself in a position to be hurt, and them hurting you before they even realized what's happened???? hahahahahha WOW

they'd be so so panicked, would be trying to get you to show them your injury without irritating it and making it worse - plus, the stress can't possibly be good for you. eventually johnny holds down your torso while simon grapples with your legs, getting the best look he can at where you're hurt

they'd be so scolding when you're healing :( telling you this is why you have to listen to them, have to do exactly as they say. look what happened! you got shot in the foot!!!!! they totally ignore the fact that they were the ones shooting lol

[box-architecture]

I haven't talked about Jet and Punz that much so I'm mentioning here that when Sam and Punz discovered the cages full of hybrids, Sam was focused on defending the cages and freeing the people inside, while Punz was on the offense and actively slaughtering the traffickers, so to Jet, Punz is both awe-inspiring and terrifying, which makes it hard to close that distance for a bit, even when they arrive back home and anything dangerous about Punz fades into something kinder, like a comfy mattress with a bit of firmness to it.

Punz also gives them a Safety Knife when Jet expresses anxiety over being taken again. They're taught how to use it, but they find they're not really… suited for combat? They don't have the drive, no intent for violence. At most they prefer being sharp and dry with words, smacking someone upside the head. They worry Punz will find it disappointing, but he's just satisfied with them knowing how to defend themselves, and tells them so.

Punz, for all his penchant for violence, isn't really looking to make his kids into him. He appreciates Honeydews desire to Fight Everyone, and Lutes eagerness to learn the sword, but they're not him. They don't need to be. He isn't sure he'd ever want any child of his to have to be the person he had to be.

It's a sentiment shared by Dream and Sam to different degrees. Dream doesn't ever want them to have to do what he did, to be a monster for others to fear. Sam can't even fathom the idea that they could do what he did. They're too good for it. Too precious. He'll stress the importance of not hurting the people you love and keeping them Safe and Protected and his toddler cubs will burble happily at him while Dream pinches his ear. Sam they're Two.

Rotates rotates rotates they're all so!!!! I think a lot about the parents knifetrio would be, and how this specific au affects that specifically.

Because Sam pre-Ckau would be an awful parent, and he knows that now. He would have been overly controlling and something to be afraid of and he would have hurt them. And he would have been too caught up in himself to realize. He doesn't want to think about a world like that but it's still on Dreams skin, after all these years. It leaves him with a low level anxiety, many moments of second guessing and fears of almost infecting them with his old ideology. It ends up making the moments where his kids are genuinely these empathetic, loving people all the more cathartic.

Dream, back before everything started going on, wanted kids. He liked the idea of little kids, loving them, teaching them, existing with them and getting to see them grow up. His endgame assumption was that he'd have them with George, because he was young and in love and not expecting the Shitshow ahead. And then he was throwing himself away in favor of trying to get things back to normal, and by the time he was out of prison, he was halfway to giving up on thinking he had a future at all, much less one that was fit for a kid. Some small part of him still liked kids, but he hated what his body had become, what he had become (a monster?) What could he possibly give a child? It takes a long time for Dream to become at peace with his existence, and he is in a good place when Honeydew is brought in, but there's always gonna be a little doubt that he's father material anymore, on any level. It hurts, but it's healed a little more with every hug and cuddle and nap and every time he's able to help calm them when they're upset. He can do this.

Punz, in the backstory I generally give him, grew up in poverty and had to take charge of other kids, maybe Purpled, making sure everyone got food, not eating until everyone else was fed, he feels like someone that had his own little makeshift family as a kid, and could have been considered an unconventional family man, but ultimately he stopped having those ties, and had been alone for a while before meeting Dream. Punz stopped considering himself someone who could have bonds outside of Dream, and like, the idea of kids might be nice, but he was a practical person looking at himself and there was no place for children in his life for a good long while

He definitely doesn't consider himself father material for a long time, but unlike Dream it wasn't something he wanted with any sort of intensity, so there's a lot less personal disparagement. He side eyes himself sometimes, but Punz stops taking jobs once they have kids for the most part, because they didn't need the money, and he deeply dislikes the idea of being absent, of not providing like he should be. It gets him feeling off kilter some days if he feels like he hasn't done enough, hasn't made sure everyone's been taken care of

He's most content when they're at the dinner table, everyone chatting about their day, well fed and happy. It feels like a job well done

[coffincanary]

If the birth order had been reversed, how would that have changed the family dynamic and the trajectory of their lives?

Happy WW, thank you for the ask maggie <3 I think you hit that sweet lizard brain spot with this ask because I spent a lot of time thinking about this (also, I will absolutely turn this into half a DFF ask because John/Dean my beloved ) The family dynamic would have absolutely been changed. Dean would have been the baby of the family instead of Sam while Sam would have been stuck with the other half of the parental duties and I kind of absolutely love that idea. It'd make the family a whole lot more tense. John would still put Sam into the wife-role similar to Dean, but they'd be more akin to a married couple keeping it together for the kids. There'd be a lot more tension there. They try not to fight in front of Dean, they kind of have this implicit agreement that Dean needs to be protected, but behind the scenes their family is really in shambles. There'd be a lot more resentment there because other than Dean, Sam questions authority and as he is, in this AU, John's sonwife he actually has the authority to do so. John can't dismiss him as the baby of the family, but needs to take him seriously. Sam really, really resents a lot of the choices John makes for Dean. He doesn't want Dean to hunt, he wants Dean to get out. In this universe, because of that added stress, I think John would also drink a whole lot more. I don't know why but John being an alcoholic always kind of spoke to me so I'd love to see that part of him getting a whole lot worse. Dean gets a lot more leeway. He reminds both Sam and John deeply of Mary and, as a result, gets kind of... spoiled by them. He doesn't really have that confrontational attitude that Sam had nor the responsibility he had as the oldest, so he doesn't really get pushed as hard as he and Sam did before. He still learns fighting and how to defend himself, but because of their feelings regarding Mary, both Sam and John really, REALLY want to keep him away from anything supernatural. Dean gets away with a lot more. I think in this universe it'd be a lot harder for John to not have a relationship with Dean, and it'd be at the same time a lot easier for Sam to resist that. Being drunk more often lowers John's inhibitions immensely, so they'd end up sleeping together at some point. Dean deeply adores his father, so it's pretty normal for him. Meanwhile Sam definitely loves his baby brother way more than he should, but he doesn't want to take advantage of that in any way. He might still end up doing that at some point, but justifies it to himself because he's not trying to hurt Dean and Dean wants it too. I think Sam would absolutely run away with Dean from John at some point in an attempt to start a normal life. Either just because the tension got too bad or because Sam found out what John and Dean were doing. Them spending some time on the run from John could be very interesting, though Dean might not be too happy about that because he loves his dad and why is Sam taking him away from him? As for the story: If Dean was the youngest, he'd be the one who gets the whole demon blood stuff which would lead to a whole lot of emotional conflict. I mean, the demon who murdered your wife/mother has infected your stand-in wife/mother and family baby with his blood? Dean would struggle with it a lot more, trying to figure out how to deal with the visions and his powers. I don't know if that'd make Sam the righteous man who breaks the first seal and gets resurrected but if it does, it's, uh, probably gonna fuck up a lot of stuff and switch both of these around a lot.

[allylikethecat]

life is stressful right now lol but seeing any kind of ally update eases my mind so i was wondering about 17, 18, and 24 for the writer asks! hope you’re well!! 🥰

Oh no! I'm sorry to hear that life is stressful right now 🥺 I'm at least happy to hear that my updates can help in any way shape or form! Is there a specific fic you would like to see me update next? If so I will try by very best to get it done next! Also - sending you lots of good vibes!! ✨

Thank you so much for sending in these fic writer questions! If anyone else wants to send some my way the list can be found here!

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

So many things. After all the research I did for the A&E fic I was like "I am basically a medical professional" and all my friends that ACTUALLY work in health care were like "lol you are barely qualified to hand out bandaids" and I was like... "well I guess you're right." My google searches while working on that one were WILD I kept getting popups from Google with crisis management hotlines telling me I wasn't alone 😭 The DUMBEST thing I learned while researching a fic was for the Infection Verse Christmas Fic, and that was when I learned that Belgium is only a 2 hour train ride from London which sparked an entire debate in my friend group about how when we all went to the UK last year, and I was suckered into going back to Paris (my least favorite city) for the night, I could have gone to Belgium and had a BELGIUM WAFFLE IN BELGIUM for a shorter train ride. Don't worry though, I've made such a big deal about it that I'm going to get my waffle when I go back this summer 😎 The things we learn while researching fic lol

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

Another line I really liked is from the Infection Fic Verse Christmas Fic - It's Christmas (So This is Gonna Be a Nightmare) It gave me Pete Wentz vibes personally, and it might seem pretentious and ridiculous to the reader but WOW did it make me go hell yeah this is ridiculous and I love it: Despite how fucking happy he was, he also couldn’t recall a time when he had been more paranoid that one wrong move could send the fragile house of cards that was his life crumbling down around him like waves against the shore beating down a sandcastle.

24. Share a moodboard for (one of) your current WIP(s).

Oh god, okay SO I've never made a moodboard before BUT I have just attempted to throw one together for my upcoming Equestrian AU - all of the pictures came from Pintrest I apologize if this is horrific my Equestrian AU is my self indulgent baby at the moment which is why it is the fic that gets the mood board lol I also have no idea if I even did this right because I've never made one before...

Thank you so much for sending in this ask and for reading and for your continued support! I hope things start to get less stressful and that you have a great rest of your week!

❤️Ally