#i really am not anymore...now im neutral

[who-the-fuck-knows-blog]

the scene where izzy is talking to stede about the knives is such a good display of his character development. not only has he previously shown that he cares about the crew, and feels responsible for their safety; he actively stepped up instead of trying to kill himself again he saved that bullet to prevent ed from killing the whole crew, but he also acknowledges that he hurt ed (despite my disagreement with him that ed’s entire emotional state was caused by stede and izzy—thats a whole other can of worms regarding personal responsibility and mental illness and autonomy). I’m not sure if this is new character development for him, or if this was consistent from the start, and as we know, aspects of the previous season’s image of izzy will be somewhat divorced from how he usually behaves due to his emotional state. I didn’t particularly see him as a character who wouldn’t accept responsibility, but he has lied previously. not that it did him any good.

it seems entirely consistent to me that him lying initially about ed’s death (alongside the crew who initiated that lie) was due to his stated goal of wanting to avoid any more harm to the crew. He, at this point is only barely back from suicidality. I think the crew is holding him together quite a bit, and he wants to protect them as fiercely as he did edward.

i hope that we will get some flashbacks to him and the crew bonding, or his attitude shifting, but imo, the way he’s been shown to try to protect the crew, standing up to blackbeard directly and redirecting the attention to himself, shows he does really care.

I love that he isn’t and has never been a one-note, one-dimensional villain who selfishly only exists for himself and is actually a nuanced character with layers, things he is working on improving. None of them are “good guys”, really. because they’re people and contain multitudes. but the whole point of the story is about personal growth and escaping unhealthy dynamics and relationships and healing and how beneficial community is to all of that. I think the show is doing very well at portraying that and most people will see and understand the points being made.

[jils-things]

me when i stop caring too hard

[dragonji]

have to be honest guys its actually going Really Badly again.

[seilon]

kinda wild how you can have almost every aspect of your life deeply intertwined with someone else for years and then have all of that thrown in your face when that person decides none of it meant anything and, in fact, was toxic and purge-worthy

[phagodyke]

didn't realise I was angry abt my mum trying to seek emotional reassurance from me until I brought it up in conversation w my roommate and ended up bitching for an hour abt it like. yeah okay I guess I am a bit pissed off !!

[daddy-issues-99]

Venom x Reader Smut

In my last poll y'all voted for a Venom fanfic and I got the message 😏

Plot: you want to shower but feel uncomfortable with Venom watching you and iykyk

Afab reader, shower sex, size kink, biting, blood, fingering, praise, a little degration, aftercare

The last few days had been pure hell. Nothing but conflict and a new roommate.

You sat curled up on your couch, knees held tight to your chest. You were so tired. You had been on alert for what seemed like days. All you wanted to do was shower and go to bed.

If only it were that simple. Everything you did was met with a deep voice inside your head. Every action, statement, movement; everything.

No way were you gonna try and shower with this thing looking at you and commenting on your every move.

You let out a sigh. You were so tired you didn't even care anymore. "Where are you going?"

"I'm talking a shower." "Finally, your thoughts were becoming annoying." This was gonna be a nightmare. You walked to the bathroom slowly discarding your clothes as you went leaving you just in your bra and panties when you got to the bathroom.

"You are a nice shape. I would rip you apart." He said as you turned on the shower. "You are such a fucking perv." You moved your hands to the hem of your panties wanting to take them off only to stand their blushing. You felt so exposed.

"Well?" He asked wondering why you just stood there. "You're making me nervous. This is to embarrassing." You said bringing your hands to cover your face.

As soon as your hands left your sides two black tendrils quickly pulled your underwear down. Before you could even react he had done the same to your bra, throwing them to the side.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You yelled trying to cover your exposed figure.

"I am in your head. I am apart of you. I have already seen every part of your body." You just stood there baffled. "Don't be embarrassed, your look lovely. Go on, I won't judge darling."

You blushed at the comment. His voice made it even harder to remain neutral.

You carefully stepped into the shower and closed the door behind you. You let out an instant sigh of relief the minute the hot water made contact with your skin.

"You are relaxed." He stated in a matter of fact tone. "This is the most relaxed I've felt in days." You said rinsing shampoo out of your hair. "Why? You have no reason to be stressed." "I'm stressed because of you jackass!" You yelled with sarcasm in your voice.

In an instant you were pinned up against the shower wall as black tendrils fell into the floor forming a large figure with large teeth and bright white eyes. Small tendrils keeping the two of you conneced. His hand quickly went to your throat making sure you couldn't move.

"How dare you. I have given you an amazing opportunity and you insult me. You don't deserve my partnership." He said tightening his grip around your throat causing you to hold your thighs together.

He slowly looked down to see your thighs held tightly together. His face contorted into a wide smile. "Something you find amusing pet?" He asked squeezing your throat causing you to let out a small moan.

"Such a pathetic thing. Can't even answer a question." "I-Im not pathetic." You said trying to talk with his hand squeeze your airway. "Oh really? You say you hate me and yet your arousal is showing my darling." "I'm- I'm not-" "You can't hide how you truly feel. I'm a part of you. I can feel every sensation you do. Every thought that goes througg your head I see. Now tell me my darling, what do you want?"

"You."

"Good girl."

Venom leaned down to your neck leaving a trail of small bite marks just enough so it would draw blood which he happily licked up with his long tounge.

"This is going to hurt." He said before opening his jaw as wide as possible and biting your shoulder, his teeth sinking into your flesh. You screamed only for his free hand to quickly cover your mouth.

He licked up the blood and leaned back to see his work. "This mark will forever symbolize that You. Are. Mine. Do you understand?" You quickly nodded you head as a tear ran down your cheek. "Good."

With that the remaining tendrils still attached to your body quickly healed the bite leaving only the scars from his teeth.

"Please" "Please what?" He asked towering over you once more "Please touch me!" You whined.

"So desperate. I think you'll like this." With that he directed your head down to where his tendrils formed into a large cock. Your eyes widened in shock. "V, how is that gonna fit?"

"We'll just need a little extra help." His hand moved down to your clit rubbing slow painful circles. You head fell into his chest as you let out breathy moans.

"Look at you, so desperate for me. Pathetic." He let out a low laugh continuing his assault on your clit. "I-Im not-" You cried out and buried your head back in his chest, gripping his shoulders as he quickly inserted one of his large fingers inside you.

"You were saying?" He said contorting his face into a smirk. "Mm fuck you." "Oh I intend to. Or shall I stop?" He said as he began to pull away from you. "No! I-I'm sorry just please touch me!" "As you wish."

He continued his pace as he added another finger. Every thrust was pure bliss and you could feel your orgasm building. "Cum for me pet." Venom quickened his pace hitting your cervix with the tips of his fingers. You cringed thinking what his cock would do.

The knot in your stomach finally came undone with Venom thrusting in and out of you as fast as he could letting you ride out your high.

You opened your mouth letting out a loud moan only to be silenced when a long tounge filled your mouth,going down your throat giving you a makeshift kiss triggering your gag reflex.

"You did wonderful my pet. " Venom pulled his fingers out bringing his hand down to his cock. He rubbed your juices on his cock as a makeshift lube to try to prevent as much pain as possible.

Venom listed you by your waist as you quickly wrapped your legs around his torso holding yourself close to him. He pushed you back up against the shower aligning his cock between your folds rubbing the tip at your entrance.

You let out a whimper. "Don't worry. You will be okay. If it's to much you can bite down on my shoulder." With that he slowly began to lower you down onto his cock. You screamed instantly biting down onto his shoulder trying to silence your screams. Venom didn't even respond.

He stopped when you had taken in as much as you could, still leaving some of his cock exposed. "Your so tight. Smaller than I thought." You didn't respond. Venom pressed you harder up against the wall and brought a hand up to brush through your hair. "You will be okay my darling."

He intertwined his hand in your hair slowly pulling your head back to look up at him. A tear ran down your cheek which he gently brushed off with his thumb. "Don't worry. If you need me to stop I will." He brought his forehead to rest against yours as you adjusted to his size.

After a moment you gave a small nod indicating that he could move. His thrusts were slow, only moving a few inches. At first it was painful but after a while it became pleasurable. You whined and buried your have in the crook of his neck.

He continued his thrusts slowly quickening his pace pushing himself as far in as he could. You quickly became a moaning mess, whispering curses of pleasure.

"Look at you. So needy, so pathetic. I love it." He roughly thrusted into you. "Say it." He said, his teeth gritted. "I'm pathetic! I'm nothing I'm pathetic!"

"Good girl." You buried your face in his neck, hiding the blush covering your face.

Venom continued his thrusts all concerns of being gentle thrown out the window. This was pure lust. Rough, sloppy thrusts. Every one hitting your sweet spot. You rolled your hips forward giving your clit more friction.

"V, I'm close." "Cum for me, cum on my cock. Prove I'm the only being who could ever bring you this much pleasure." Your gripped his shoulders as he quickened his thrusts, holding onto your hips tight enough to leave a bruise.

The knot in your stomach came undone. You screamed in pure pleasure as Venom continued his pace allowing you to ride out your high. Venom soon followed coating your walls with ropes of cum.

Venom pulled out of you setting you back down on your feet. You fell limp and Venom quickly wrapped his arms around you as you rested your head against his chest.

Venom shifted you so the shower watter was hitting your back. He grabbed the washcloth and some soap and began to gently wipe away the thin layer of sweat that had formed. He continued cleaning you off making sure to get every part of you and carefully rinced you off.

He turned off the focet and picked you up bridal style resting you on your sink. He grabbed a towel and wrapped in around you drying you off. He wrapped the towel around you and grabbed a hairbrush, slowly brushing your hair sending shivers down your spine.

You rested your head against his chest lazily trying to keep you eyes open. Venom gently caressed your hair whispering sweet nothings.

He picked you up, holding you close to his chest as you absentmindedly played with the hem of the towel. He gently placed you down on the bed giving you one final kiss as he slowly absorbed back into your body.

"I love you V." "I love you to my darling." With that a tendil quickly formed from your hip and pulled the blanket over you as you drifted off to sleep.

[woahjo]

The People We Became (Bakugou x Reader)

masterlist | ao3

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Summary: Zombie Apocalypse Au.

The world fell apart almost a year ago and you refused to go with it. Left alone and to your own devices in a world full of monsters, where the dead come back to life, you believe that maybe surviving isn't living.

When Katsuki finds you alone in the woods and on the precipice of collapsing from exhaustion, he decides to bring you back to the house his group calls home. Against your better judgement and hesitancy to become attached, you decide to stay. In this world, everyone has lost someone. No soul is spared the violence, and you start sleeping with Bakugou Katsuki to dull the ache. Somehow, peace finds you anyway, but not without sacrifice.

Chapter Content Warnings:  fem!reader, gender neutral pronouns, strangers to lovers, violence typical of zombies, blood, gore, romance, slow-ish burn (for the emotional stuff), angst, kissin', questions of identity, loss, grief, graphic depictions of death and/or violence, mentions and descriptions of starvation/exhaustion typical of an apocalypse setting, very slight implications of possible sexual violence typical of an apocalypse setting, derealization, depersonalization, weapons (guns, blades, and traps), loss of identity

All content warnings can be found on ao3 with the rest of the series.

Word Count: 14.4k — 53k total on ao3

A/N: it's finally done... i'm sweating. i screamed. i cried. i bled. you know the drill. i am posting this a little differently than my other fics and series. only the first chapter will be posted here on tumblr (this post), with the rest of it broken up into chapters and posted on ao3.. purely because it was originally meant as a one shot and i don't like posting chapters on tumblr. it's not built for that and im tired. anyway, im nervous this is my new baby and im pretty sure my soul is somewhere in here. if u read this, pls come tell me what you think.. it fuels me. enjoy, cry, sweat, or whatever else you do when you read. as always, thank you and i love you.

Two hundred and seventy six. It’s been two hundred and seventy six days since the world completely went to shit. You don’t really count the initial outbreak. The initial outbreak was relatively contained once people found out about it. You quarantined. You stayed inside. All it really took were a handful of idiots. Someone selfish. Someone who panicked and ran instead of facing the world honorably, and that was it. It only took days to lose almost every semblance of a normal life and a week to lose everything else. 

The light of your fire is dim, embers burning low as you sit in a foldable chair beside it. The chair is from a friend, someone you’re not with anymore and who went somewhere you couldn’t follow, and you've got a metal spatula in your hand. You're not sure why you grabbed it when you fled, but panic does weird things to the mind. You absentmindedly wonder why you’ve brought it along with you all this time. There’s no logical reason for you to tote the thing around. A friend had told you how strange it was that you thought to toss it into your bag and continue carrying it. This, along with a few other oddities, are all you managed to take from your house when the world fell to ruin. Everything else are things scavenged along the way or from people you'd met, joined, and lost. 

Maybe it’s because the spatula is somewhat normal, like somehow when you cook the game on your makeshift tin over your shitty fire, you can pretend you’re in your kitchen. A smash burger sounds good right now, with grilled onions on a brioche bun like the ones from the place by your apartment. 

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

It’s easy to miss the noise that used to irritate you when the world goes quiet. You used to hate the sounds and lights of passing trucks when they’d cross on the street below your apartment window. Now, you’d do anything for the familiar comfort. The world is so dark and quiet, like it’s holding its breath and waiting for this to be over. The silence is almost too much, so loud that it hurts your ears. You huddle closer to the fire, craving its quiet sound. Focusing on it lessens the anxiety of the other noises. The ones you don’t want to hear. 

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

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

You make a small noise, something between a whimper and a shout, as the person comes to a stop in front of you and holds a flashlight directly into your face. You squint, panic in your veins as your eyes adjust as best they can to the sudden assault. It takes you a moment to realize that there is a gun pointed directly at your forehead. The living. This person is alive. You're not sure yet if encountering one of the dead would have been worse. 

"Shut up and drop your weapon," he says in a hurried voice. It's aggressive and threatening. It comes from deep in his chest, like somehow fear has gripped and mutilated it into something violent. 

You raise your shaky hands to your head quickly at the order, screwing your eyes shut in the beam of the flashlight. 

"It's not a weapon!" you shout, voice cracking. "It's a spatula. It's a spatula." 

The words are rushed and heavy, fear seizing your chest as you look down the barrel of the gun. The flashlight turns off, sending you back into the dark. Your eyes fight to adjust, catching the firelight that glints off of the barrel, and you begin to makeout the man’s features. He's big, blonde under the grime, you think. A man, not the best thing to encounter alone at night in times like these. 

You see him hesitate for a moment, eyes darting between you and the silver kitchen item in your hand. You drop it quickly, hoping to appeal to his humanity. 

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

You shake your head in response and then shakily look beside the chair, choking out the word “ground”. There's a knife there and a pistol with no bullets. You're a poor shot and you had run out of ammo the previous week. He glances at it, the gun still raised at you, and sidesteps to grab the two items. When he does, he cautiously lowers the weapon and you start to lower your trembling hands. 

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

"The fuck are you doing lighting a fire this late?" he says angrily, opening the clip of your pistol. "And with no fucking bullets. Those things may be dead, but they can still fuckin' see. That's a good way to get yourself killed." 

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

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

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

"What do you want?" you snap, "My food? Weapons? Life? What is it?" 

The man scoffs, "Jesus, none of that. I don’t want your shit." 

You narrow your eyes and take a step back. One thing this world has done is remove trust from every chance encounter, and that was already hard enough when the place was sane. 

"Not all people who camp out in the woods are good," he says. "But I sure as shit didn't expect to find someone like you alone lighting a damn fire. Stupid." 

"There were others," you say indignantly, like somehow that makes it better. "Force of habit, I guess." 

The man pauses for a moment as understanding passes between the two of you. It's a relatable feeling. Everyone has lost someone now. 

"Got a name?" he asks. 

You hesitate in giving it to him and the pause causes him to roll his eyes. “You want me to call you Idiot-with-no-bullets instead?” 

You give him your name and the man nods as if he likes the sound of it, turning it over in his head before inhaling. 

"I'm Katsuki," he furrows his eyebrows. "You're alone?" 

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

"Wasn't always," you respond, "but yeah. Now, I am." 

He nods his understanding. 

"Come with me." 

"Where?" you say instinctively, a defensive edge to your voice. Katsuki looks at you as if you’re stupid, or maybe it's pity, like you're a wounded animal. Probably both. 

"Where the fuck do you think?" he retorts. "We've got a camp a little ways from here. I saw your fire from the watch post we have stationed." 

You look at him like he's a little crazy for even thinking to bring you. Kindness, especially the selfless type, is so rare now and you find it difficult to believe that he’s willing to take you there at no cost. 

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

He's probably right. You've been alone for weeks now, exhausted for longer, and though your common sense tells you not to go off with a strange man in this kind of world, the promise of rest is far too tempting. You nod and glance back to your camp. A measly collection of supplies haphazardly put together. You suppose that it doesn’t look so promising. 

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

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

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

"If that's what you want to call it," he says begrudgingly. Then, with a softer tone of voice, barely noticeable with the quiet whisper you both have been speaking at. "I'm sure the others won't mind one more."

You nod a little and follow him through the wood, stepping over obstacles. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark, but you feel unsteady on your feet. Everything you’ve ever learned about this world tells you that maybe you shouldn’t go with him. What if they’re dangerous? It’s easy to lie about women and children, about a community that doesn’t exist. Or worse, it’s easy to fool yourself that where you are is good, but you don’t know yet if he’s the type to delude himself. He doesn’t seem it. 

The two of you walk for what feels like forever, even if it is only a little over half a mile. Your feet have been aching for days and every step you take feels like a blade into the heel. Katsuki seems steady, his gun secured at his hip and a large knife in his dominant hand. He doesn’t have the flashlight out, but he seems sure-footed and takes every step in stride, as if he’s too heavy to be swayed by any missed step. 

As you move, you can barely make out his back in the white tank top he wears. You use it as a landmark, following the glowing white as it catches the light from the moon. Like chasing a ghost through the trees. 

Then, the wood eases up. The trees grow sparse and the suffocating humidity of the forest eases into a more breathable, open-air breeze. Katsuki steps out into a clearing. It’s relatively small, for how large the world is, but it’s some of the most open space you’ve seen in a while. The feeling of stepping out into the tall grass, where you’re both visible to any wandering thing, sends a rush of fear through you. 

By the edge of the clearing, there’s a small house with a short steeple. It almost looks like a Christian church, but you get the sense that it’s likely a barn. That must be the watchtower and you wonder just how good the view of the forest is from up there if Katsuki managed to see the light of your fire. How many other people had seen your fires over the weeks and not made it out to confront you? How close had you come before to safety or annihilation? 

"Hey!" a girl's voice calls. "He's back!" 

In the near distance, you can see a large and dimly lit house. It looks a little worn down, but soft and hardly noticeable light emanates from it in a way that makes it seem inviting.You can’t make out its exact silhouette and night blurs just how broken-down it is, but you can tell that people live there in the same way you can tell when someone has just left a room. 

Someone runs across the field to you both. It looks like a man and a woman, maybe around Katsuki's age. They move quickly through the tall grass and for a moment, the urgency that they move with frightens you. You worry that your presence will ignite some protective sort of panic. You linger back, letting Katsuki grow a little farther from you as they call out to him. 

“Yeah, yeah," he half-shouts, no longer seeming to care about keeping quiet. Guess that's what happens when there's a group. "I found the fire I mentioned." 

The two come to a stop in front of him, resting their hands on their hips as they catch the breath they lost. 

"We started to get a little worried," says the girl. She's pretty, with big eyes and curly hair that looks like it probably used to be dyed. "You've been gone for a while." 

"Well, I'm back," he says. 

"And you brought a friend," the other man says, sounding shocked. His tone is noticeably kind. The boisterous type of kind and when he smiles, you can see that he has sharp canines. His hair is straight, sticking out in different directions, and tinged with red in this light.

"More like an acquaintance," Katsuki says. “I found them in the woods with a fire and an empty clip. Felt like their blood would be on my hands if I didn’t bring them back.” The red-haired man gives him a telling look and Katsuki scoffs in response and turns to the girl. "Get them settled, Mina, will you?" The girl called Mina nods and Katsuki takes off toward the house without another word. 

"You're lucky," she says, pausing when you flinch as she steps closer. "You're gettin' the last solo room in the place. Kirishima, is it set up?" 

Kirishima shrugs his shoulders. "You'd have to ask Izuku. He'd know all about that, but I can go check." 

Mina shakes her head and turns her attention to you, giving you a quick once over with her eyebrows pulled together.

"You must be tired.” 

When you nod, she gives you an empathetic smile and motions for you to come with her. "We'll fix that. You hungry?" 

"What do you think?" you manage, saliva pooling in your mouth. "Do you have food?" 

"Plenty," she smiles. "not quite enough for leftovers just yet though, don’t tell anyone." 

You smile awkwardly. Who on earth would you tell? 

"Sounds like a good deal," you say. 

You follow Mina up to the house. Around it, there are a few parked cars. They look like they could pull out at any moment, and through the dust covered windows, you can just make out supplies in the back seats as you pass. In the distance, you can see the fuzzy silhouette of the barn you’d assumed was a watchtower in the dark of the field and you figure that maybe it used to be a place to keep livestock. 

Mina doesn't say much to you as you pass through the field, and when you walk into the door, the first thing you notice is a large group of people seated at a dining table. They all look up at you when you enter and it's with a bit of shock that you register their faces as healthy. Well, healthier. These people live well. Something stirs in your chest, both anxiety and excitement at the thought of possibly having found somewhere safe. They blink at you for a moment, exchanging looks that all end up landing on Katsuki. 

"This is the group. Well, most of us," Mina says pleasantly and with a light huff. "That's Izuku, Denki, Ochako, Sero, and you already know the handsome guy on the end there. Kiri's probably checking to see if the room is half decent.." They all greet you with a glad murmur. "Group, this is..." 

She looks at you expectantly. When you tell them your name, you can't help but look at Katsuki who already knows it. He raises his eyebrows unconsciously and turns his attention to the glass in front of him. 

There’s an awkward pause as you stand in the doorway, suddenly conscious of just how dirty you must look. Remnants of an older world, you suppose. No one really worries about things like that anymore.

“Uhm…” you search for something to say, but your people skills seem to have left you. 

“You’re okay,” Mina says lightly. “Plenty of time to get to know you when you’ve rested and had something to eat.” 

Mina sits you down at a chair that she pulls in from the other room. It doesn't match the other ones in the dining room, but you suppose no one is really thinking of the decor in their house anymore. It's only now that you realize the house has electricity.

"You have power?" you say incredulously, looking at the center light in the dining room on its low setting. 

"Mhm," Mina hums as she sits down next to you and spoons a helping of vegetables onto your plate. "It's got a generator. We got lucky finding this place. I don't think many of us would be alive if we hadn't." 

Those listening in the group nod their affirmation. 

"It draws from well water too," she adds. "With the right care, the place practically runs on its own. Hard work but what isn't nowadays?" 

“Like you do any of the heavy lifting," Sero scoffs across from her.

"That's not fair," Katsuki adds with a slick smirk, "you know damn well none of our vegetables would be so well socialized if she didn't use them like a damn diary all day." 

The group laughs a little and Mina rolls her eyes and sits back in the chair. You avoid looking at anyone, shoveling the food into your mouth. You’re salivating an almost embarrassing amount, struggling to eat at a normal pace. There’s something about food cooked inside, about the way food tastes when you can smell it wafting in from the kitchen. 

"Don't worry," she turns to you, as if you’re at all concerned with the implication that she doesn’t do much work, "they know we’d hardly have vegetables at all if it weren't my job to tend them. I used to garden quite a bit before all of this." 

Sero tosses her a sideways glance and you get the sense that maybe it isn’t just her doing it. 

"Mina does a lot of the garden stuff," Ochako pitches in, her voice hesitant. "We all sort of just do what we can." 

You can’t really keep up with the conversation and instead just blink at her for a moment before turning back to your food. Maybe that’s rude, but you don’t have the energy to consider it. There’s food in front of you. Food that doesn’t taste like it’s been poorly slaughtered or rotting in a cabinet for months. 

The group at the table with you shifts back into what you feel is their normal conversation and you watch them through your peripheral. You can’t relax yet, maybe you never will. Always on watch with your guard up. 

They pass the dishes around the table, plates going from hand to hand over mismatched sets of silverware. The action feels strange to you. Your chest squeezes at the thought. Just a few weeks ago, you’d done this around a fire with the people you loved. You’d passed a too-hot-to-touch pot around a circle of friends, laughing quietly at the little moments of joy you could find. It feels far away now and jealousy rouses beside hope as you sit. 

“So, where did you come from?” Izuku at the end of the table asks. 

It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you and there’s an edge to his voice that has everyone at the table sitting up with curiosity. You stare at him for a moment, exhausted and defeated and unable to muster the words. 

“Leave them be,” Katsuki says, looking up from his plate. “They just got here. They’re probably freaked out.” 

The table goes a little quiet, a hush falling over it. You look around as glances are exchanged before Mina stands up quickly and quietly claps her hands together. 

“I think,” she says with an awkward laugh, “it may be time for bed.” 

Mina turns to you. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.” 

You nod, standing up and turning to the group with furrowed eyebrows. You want to thank them, to tell them that you’re grateful for the meal and their kindness, but the words don’t come. Instead, you meet Katsuki’s gaze, grateful for the intervention, but suspicious at such forthcoming kindness. He scoffs a little and turns away. 

—

“It’s just up here,” Mina says as she guides you through the house.

You pass rooms with their doors ajar. They are lived in, with unmade beds and glasses of clean water on nightstands. It’s like something out of a life gone by, with a few less amenities. You can imagine a family moving through this house. Girls in school uniforms calling through the halls about a stolen hair clip. Now, you picture these people doing that. Living and not just surviving.

“The bathroom is across the hall,” she says. “You can take a shower if you want. I’ll leave a towel and some clothes in there just in case.”  

You nod. 

“No worries if you don’t,” Mina adds in a whisper. “When I first met everyone, I didn’t undress to bathe for days so… take your time. We won’t be offended.” 

She shuts the door behind her when she leaves and you stumble back onto the bed, shocked by just how soft it feels after spending weeks on the floor. It’s not much, but it’s nicer than anything you’ve experienced in the last nine months, and there's a working shower. You haven’t had a shower since everything fell apart and the layer of grime on your skin is so thick that you can feel it. You haven’t felt safe enough to properly wash since you’d lost the rest of your group, only stopping to rinse your body in streams you pass if the thought occurred to you. The idea of running water and a shower is near euphoric. 

You probably shouldn’t. It may not be wise to shower tonight. You still don’t know these people or what they’re capable of, but the temptation of being clean is too great and as soon as you hear Mina close the bathroom door and walk away, you hurry across the hall on the balls of your feet. 

The bathroom looks old and the sink is white porcelain, eggshell now with a lack of care. The shower has a bathtub in it and though it’s cloudy, there’s a mirror over the sink where you catch the first clear glimpse you’ve had of yourself in weeks. 

You don’t know who you’re looking at. The person in the mirror is nearly unrecognizable. Their eyes are wide and frightened, wild like an animal’s, and their face is covered in a layer of grime that looks like it can never be washed out. Their hair is unruly, sticking out in some areas and matted down with blood in others. This is a person you’ve never seen or met before. Someone you would have avoided only a year ago if you’d ever encountered them. 

You reach up to touch your face, running your hand over the dried blood that has made a home on the underside of your jaw. How long has it been there? Have you always looked so unwell? So sick in mind and body? The promise of a shower grows unbearably pleasant. 

The knob squeaks when you turn it, screeching as the pipes hum and clang to life. Water spits out in a few bursts before raining down from the faucet and hitting the back of the tub in a steady thrum. It sounds a little bit like music to you, constant and heavy, and it gives the impression of normalcy as you begin undressing. 

The fabric of your clothes sticks to your skin, peeling from your body in an unbearable and disgusting way. You don’t look at your body in the mirror. In fact, you avoid it entirely. Not recognizing your face was enough, but your body—a part of yourself you never really recognized—would drive you over the edge. 

Then, you pull the shower curtain back and stick your hand under the water, stepping into it fully with a deep sigh. The water is lukewarm. They probably turned off the heater to conserve power and allow the main generator to function for longer. That’s fine. Beggars can’t be choosers and everyone is a beggar nowadays. Besides, it’s warm enough outside that the water isn’t too cold as it is. In the winter, you probably wouldn’t be able to shower and the pipes might freeze entirely until the following spring. 

There’s a normalcy that you settle into as you wash your body. You return to muscle memory, running your hands over your skin and scrubbing the grime out. It’s simultaneously like the first shower of your life and as if you’ve been doing it every day. You return to a state of pleasant, familiar humanity as you wash away dirt that has built up for weeks. You feel as it pours off of you, see it run down your body onto the porcelain of the tub and swirl down the drain. It’s dirt and dried blood that has been caked onto your skin. You worry that even after washing, it will leave a permanent mark. 

The person in the mirror when you get out of the shower is in stark contrast to the person who went into it. They’re someone that you recognize. You could almost convince yourself that nothing ever changed. Your water-soaked skin is so familiar to you, that you could be getting out of the shower and dressing to go to work. If it weren’t for the look in your eyes, you could have fooled yourself. Something undefinable has changed in you, something that you will carry with you forever. You glance at yourself in the foggy mirror and think that there is no going back. 

The house is quiet when you dry yourself and open the bathroom door. You step across the hall on the balls of your feet, careful not to make any noise, and when you push the bedroom door open, you do a visual sweep to make sure that it’s safe out of habit. 

Your body is exhausted. You are so thoroughly tired that you think you could collapse at any moment, but when you sit down on the bed in your fresh clothes, you find yourself restless. This place is new to you and you’re unsure if the safe feeling is your mind playing desperate tricks on you or the real thing. The lamp by your bed is on, casting a yellow glow across the bedsheets and the dark wood furniture. Come to think of it, you didn’t get a good look at the house when you came in and the thought starts to bother you as you stare at the closed door to the hallway. 

Someone could be behind it. They could be waiting for you to lay down, to sleep, before doing something awful. You almost feel guilty for thinking this way about them. They’ve fed you, given you a shower, given you fresh clothes. Luxuries you weren’t sure even existed anymore, yet you’re sitting here doubting them, wishing you had your pistol or knife.

The bedroom door creaks as you open it. You wince, nervous that you’ve disturbed the quiet peace of the house and that everything will come crashing down as quickly as it seemed to come together. The hallway is dark, save for some light coming from under two doors at the end of the hall. One of them turns out as you creep past it to the stairs, and you hear the distinct sound of box springs squeaking as someone crawls into bed. You let go of the breath you’d been holding, straightening up as you relax into the late-night environment. 

The house looks old even from the inside. It gives the impression of having once been dirty and in near disrepair. There are dust stains and dull spots that no amount of scrubbing could get out. You can almost picture how this place may have looked when they found it and it’s entirely possible that it had been abandoned before the actual outbreak. Someone run out of their home for lack of money. What a trivial thing now. 

The stairs are sturdy, probably held together so well by the foundation of the house, and they’re made of dark wood. They’re steep too, the kind that a baby or old person might trip over, and you hold the railing to calm the shaking of your legs as you slowly feel your way down. You can see the light on in the kitchen from around the corner, spreading out onto the floor of the old fashioned drawing room. Dishes clink in the kitchen, like someone is washing them, and you jump a little at the noise as you creep around the corner. 

Kirishima is standing at the sink with his back to you, whispering something to someone beside him. The expanse of his back is broad, moving every time he goes to run his hand over the dish in front of him. Then, he turns to look at you and you see Mina pop her head around the corner. 

“Oh,” Kiri says, “did you need something?” 

You shake your head. “Not really, I just couldn’t sleep.” 

Kiri nods sympathetically as if he knows the feeling. “Well, you look like you feel a little better at least.” 

You pad over to where he’s doing the dishes and Mina offers you a soft smile and a knowing look. It all seems so normal. Doing the dishes, whispering quietly as they do. Something about it screams a kind of humanity you haven’t experienced in a long while, even with your last group. 

“Are you sure we can’t get you something?” Mina says, furrowing her brows. 

“Why are you all being so nice to me?” You ask. “You don’t know the first thing about me.” 

“Is there some reason why we shouldn’t be nice to you?” Kiri says over his shoulder. 

“No,” you shake your head. “I just think it’s reckless, that’s all. I could have been anyone.” 

Kirishima and Mina exchange a look. They glance at each other, like they’re debating on saying something, and then Kiri turns and rests his palms on the back of the sink. He looks at Mina. 

“We don’t usually decide to do this so quickly,” she admits. “We’re friendly, but nobody’s that friendly anymore.” 

Kiri nods his agreement and you listen quietly, trying to determine if they plan to toss you back out into the woods in the morning. 

“But, Katsuki doesn’t usually bring people in,” she continues. 

“He’s a little more closed off than the rest of us,” Kirishima adds. “He’s a good guy, just takes a while to warm up, is all.” 

“Mhm,” Mina says. 

“What does that have to do with me?” you ask. “This is nice and all, but I’m sure you get why I’m wary.” 

“He’s a good judge of character,” Kiri adds earnestly. “He doesn’t bring people in often, but when he does, he’s usually right.” 

You nod, not quite understanding. Sure, you don’t plan to do anything terrible. In fact, you’re content to accept their kindness and stay, if they’d let you. Anything is better than being alone, but their blind trust in one man’s judgment of character makes you uneasy. 

“He was alone for a really long time,” Mina adds. “A lot of us were. I got lucky meeting Kirishima early on, but Katsuki’s luck was a little less fortuitous.” 

“So you all just… happened upon each other by chance?” You ask. 

“Yeah, pretty much,” Mina says. “It was me and Kiri for a long time. Just the two of us. We’d found Izuku and Katsuki together a while later, but they didn’t seem to like each other all that much. We still haven’t really figured that out, especially because they’re so close now. Ochako and Sero ended up cornered together by accident. We found them just before we found this place, and Denki just sort of showed up here one day and promised to fix the generator in exchange for safety. That was months ago. We’ve been like this since.”

“So you’re all strays,” you say and Mina laughs a little and looks at Kiri. 

“Sure,” she says. “We’re all strays. There were others too. Shoji. Jirou. She was Denki’s girlfriend.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say with a frown. It feels pointless to apologize for the dead, if you get caught up in it, you’d be apologizing forever. 

“Don’t be,” Kiri adds. “But best not to bring her up. It was pretty recent and Denki’s only just started to get over it.” 

You swallow thick and nod a little. 

“Anyway,” Mina says, “we can’t really explain it. We just trust him. We trust Katsuki. That’s all.” 

“Hm,” you hum, understanding that to a degree. 

You trusted the people in your group. If they believed in someone, you were willing to as well, so you suppose you can understand a little where they’re coming from. 

“What are you talking about,” Katsuki rounds the corner, walking into the kitchen and putting his water bottle under the sink. 

“Nothing really,” Mina says. 

Katsuki furrows his eyebrows and then looks at you. He gives you a once over, taking in your new clothing before scoffing lightly. 

“Don’t you look cozy,” he says. “You get settled?” 

“When can I go get my stuff?” You ask. 

“Someone’s eager,” he says through lightly gritted teeth. “Didn’t I tell ya we could go in the morning? Besides, what’s there really to miss in that lot of junk?” 

“Katsuki!” Mina quietly chides. 

“I have things I care about there,” you say. “Things I’m not ready to lose.” 

Katsuki blinks at you for a second before swearing under his breath. “We’ll leave when you get up in the morning.” 

“You don’t have to come with me,” you say, frowning a bit at his sour attitude. 

“Like hell,” he scoffs. “What if the dead are waiting back there for you?” 

“I made it this far on my own,” you respond. 

Katsuki nods for a second. “I’m going. Come find me in the morning.” 

He walks off and around the corner. You hear him go up the stairs, followed by the distinct click of a bedroom door shutting. 

“Don’t pay too much attention to that,” Mina says. “It’s past his bedtime.” 

“You’ll get used to him,” Kiri adds. 

“Right,” you say, swallowing down your frustration in favor of trying to be appreciative of the help. You sway on your feet a little and then steady yourself. “I’m going to go to sleep. Thank you for the meal and the bed.” 

Mina and Kiri nod, but you don’t stick around to hear a response. Fatigue creeps up on you. It ambushes your senses and you go from feeling dream-like to delusional in a matter of moments. You make your way up the stairs, your body feeling heavy as lead, and wobble your way into the bedroom they’re letting you stay in. 

When your head hits the pillow, you’re out. The world around you fades to dark and just before you sleep, you swear that you can hear the sounds of cars passing on the highway. A busy night, Saturday maybe, and people go about their daily lives outside of the window the way that they always have. They live, never the wiser to just how quickly things fall apart and how little it takes for our humanity to leave us. 

— 

Mornings in this place are boisterous. The sun coming through the lone window in your room wakes you up and you can hear the calls of busy people getting to work outside. There are voices from the porch out front that your window looks over and though you can’t see them, you get the sense that they’re having a pleasant conversation. 

As you rouse, you come to the realization of just how exhausted you’d really been. They probably saved your life by bringing you to this place, feeding you, and offering you a bed. In hindsight, it’s easy to see just how little you had left in you. You get the sense now that you’d been running on an empty tank for days, slowly coming to an inglorious, gruesome, sputtering stop. 

Things seem a little clearer, like the sunlight is somehow less bleak than it had been the days previous and you feel a little bit like you have a new lease on life. There are no big emotions, no swells of hope or humanity just yet, and you dread the moment you are rested enough to let grief consume you. Right now, you can’t feel it, but there is a fear in you that as you get to know these people who live relatively beautifully in an ugly world, it will weigh you down so much that you’ll never be able to outrun it. 

You wonder if they’ll let you stay. They very well may not, even with the way they were talking last night. Strangers are more dangerous than they’ve ever been and if they ask you whether or not you’ve killed someone, you refuse to lie to them. Sitting up on the bed, you mull over the very real possibility that you could be back out there on your own again in a matter of days and you don’t even have that many good acts under your belt to plead your case. You’re just a person and you’ve done what you needed to in order to survive. Now, you’re not sure if that’s enough. 

You swallow thick, wandering over to the mirror on the dresser. It’s fogged, though less than the bathroom mirror, and you can make out your features a little better than you could last night. You feel a bit more sane, though you still don’t recognize the frightful and distrustful look in your eyes. Like a wounded animal. Inside your head, you acknowledge that you are completely different from the person you were two hundred and seventy seven days ago. 

The voices grow louder as you climb down the stairs, more secure on your feet than you felt last night. You can hear them talking about the generator, as well as a name you don’t recognize. 

“He should be back by now,” a woman says. “Shoto’s never gone longer than a day or two, max.” 

“We shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” another woman says with a worried bite in her voice. Mina, maybe? “We’re only a few hours into the day. He probably got holed up somewhere.” 

“Someone needs to go look for him,” a man says.

“And what? Risk getting yourself killed?” the first woman says. “No, it doesn’t make sense. We need you here.” 

“You’d rather we leave him to die on his own?” 

“No one’s fuckin’ dying.” 

You recognize Katsuki’s voice. 

“He’s perfectly capable of going on a gasoline run,” he continues. “He’s done it before.” 

“I should have gone with him,” says the same woman. 

“On that leg? You wouldn’t have made it halfway to town, let alone there and back,” his voice raises a little. “Don’t be stupid. He’ll be back.” 

You clear your throat and step around the corner. The group turns to face you quickly at the sound, their eyes wide for a moment before relaxing. You can’t sneak up on anyone nowadays. 

“Sorry,” you say, “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Is everything okay?” 

It’s not your business, but you ask anyway, wondering for yourself about the safety of Shoto. 

“Fine,” Izuku says, shaking his head. You recognize him to be the one who'd vouched for going after their friend. Katsuki takes a step away from the broad man as he says this. “Nothing for you to worry about. Did you rest?” 

Izuku smiles gently at you, his chest inflating a little at the question. The movement broadens his shoulders and you realize that he stands almost a head taller than Katsuki. You look briefly between the two of them before nodding. 

“I did,” you say. “Thank you.” 

“Nothing wrong with a little hospitality now and then,” he smiles and you can’t help but furrow your eyebrows at the distinct hesitance in his voice. 

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the woman standing across from Izuku says. “I’m Momo. Sorry I wasn’t there to meet you last night. I’ve been a little under the weather.” 

You introduce yourself to her and glance down at her leg. Her ankle is swollen and wrapped in a bandage. Her sneaker laces are untied at the top to make room for the swelling and you can see that she’s guarding that side of her leg. 

“Is it…?” you grimace, taking an instinctive step away from her. You almost feel bad for it, but sometimes good people make bad decisions when loved ones get bit. 

“No,” she says quickly, “no, it isn’t. Caught an edge in an old chain link fence on the property a couple days back.” 

Momo smiles slightly at you as if to reassure you. She’s really beautiful, with thick dark hair pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail. Her eyes are bright, like she’s engaged in lively conversation, and you find yourself feeling a little sad for her. She’ll need medicine soon, if they can get it. Infections set in easily these days and you get the sense that even she knows that she may not have long without it. Maybe that’s something else their friend Shoto set out to find. 

“I assume you’ll be wanting to go get your supplies?” Katsuki says, cutting the conversation short. Maybe he could sense the sour turn of thoughts. 

“Ready when you are,” you respond with a nod. 

Katsuki glances at Izuku, who gives him a slightly disapproving look. 

“Someone get them something to eat,” Katsuki says. “...I’ll get my shit ready.” 

“Fig jam…” Mina mumbles as she motions for you to follow her to the kitchen. 

You oblige her, not exactly jumping to turn down a meal. She walks you into the kitchen and opens up a cabinet, where she pulls out a jar filled with a dark and seed filled paste. It’s a jam, sealed in a jar that looks older than what’s inside of it. The seal breaks open with a pleasant pop. 

“This stuff is so good,” she says to you over her shoulder, pulling out a package of crackers that have likely gone stale. “You won’t believe it.” 

She spreads the jam on a few crackers and sets it in front of you on a plate, pushing it across the counter towards you. 

“It’s fig jam,” she says with a smile. “Homemade.” 

You look down at the plate, your mouth watering at the prospect of something sweet like this. It’s been so long since you've had fresh jam. It could be as long as 10 years. You don’t think you’ve had it since you were a kid, when jam came easily and you preferred the processed brands at the supermarket to the ones your mom used to make sometimes. 

You raise the cracker to your mouth and stuff it in with little grace. The sweetness spreads across your tongue as soon as you bite into the stale cracker. It fizzes and pops almost, the sugar melting across your tongue as the seeds crack softly between your teeth. The smile that hits your face is completely involuntary and though you know that nine months ago, this jam wouldn’t have been much, today it is something extraordinary. 

Mina nods a kind of girlish agreement, like the way people used to when they had their friend try something at their favorite restaurant. 

“We got here in the fall. I want to say late October or early November?” she offers. “We were starving and there wasn’t enough food to feed all of us. By that time there were like… nine of us.” 

You listen as you eat your crackers. 

“This place was in such an awful state,” she laughs. “I mean, really terrible. But, it was big and there was a fig tree in the back. A little thing, probably only a few years old and it had fruit on it. We ate so many of them that if the world were normal, we’d have sworn off of them forever. When we realized that the house actually had some old food in it,” she interrupts herself “-nothing good, canned stuff mostly- we decided to jar up the rest of the figs so that they didn’t rot.” 

She smiles at you like it’s a pleasant memory, but you can only think about how hungry they must have been. Your stomach growls as you eat. 

“I know it doesn’t sound like much,” she says, “but for some reason it’s a really nice memory. Honestly, we’re lucky we didn’t die.” 

Mina laughs a little. 

“I mean,” she continues, “we didn’t even clear the area before we started pulling at the figs and throwing them into our mouths.” 

You tilt your head at her and furrow your eyebrows with a small smile. 

“You’re really forthcoming with information.” 

“You just seem a little hesitant, is all,” she answers. 

“Can you blame me?” 

Mina shrugs her shoulders but doesn’t really offer an answer. You assume it’s because she can’t, because Mina has the same doubts everyone carries with them in this world. All of the what ifs people would think about before they slept have become more prevalent than anyone would have ever liked. 

“The jam is good,” you say, trying to be friendly in the same way she is. “Even if it is months old.” 

“Things keep well in jars,” Mina defends softly, smiling a little as she gets another out of you. 

This place feels like a little slice of paradise. A blessing from whoever lived here before and kept a garden stocked with vegetables. From someone who lived in an old house with stables and well-water, who kept canned food past its expiration date. It feels almost too good to be true, like these people live in a bubble bound to pop. 

“You ready?” Katsuki thuds into the kitchen with an empty backpack slung over his shoulder. 

You turn, startled by his sudden appearance and nod as you quickly finish chewing the last cracker. Katsuki furrows his eyebrows as he watches the way you scarf it down. 

When you stand from the table, Katsuki turns on his heel to make for the front door and you follow with a light step. Mina says something about staying safe, but you don’t respond, glancing once over your shoulder at the girl. 

It’s strange, the world has made you wishy-washy and uncommitted. You never used to be like that, never so distrusting as to second guess someone’s kindness the moment your back is turned to them, and you’re certainly not the type to be friendly one moment and closed off the next. Now though, you find that doubt creeps in easily through cracks and any foundation that didn’t exist before, seems to be swallowed before you can finish building it. 

Katsuki leads you back across the small clearing you’d come through the night before. It looks different in the day, almost romantic, and it lacks any of the ominous feeling it had the previous evening. He steps over mounds in the dirt from moles and gophers that have made lawns their new home and you try to mimic his steps, sinking occasionally into a particularly soft patch of dirt. Every now and then, Katsuki glances behind him to check that you’re still there and you offer him a forced smile that he never returns.

You catch up to him when you hit the trees, sticking close at his side like something will come and take you away if you’re not. It’s unintentional, but you don’t have a weapon on you. Your knife is back at your makeshift camp, along with the unloaded pistol and your trusty spatula. 

“How do you know where we’re going?” You ask in a whisper. 

Katsuki tosses a look at you over his shoulder. “I’m good with directions.” 

His tone is clipped, like he’s pissed about something, and your expression sours at it. Sure, you get it but it irritates you to some small degree. You hadn’t asked him to come along. In fact, you’d have been fine getting back here to collect your stuff on your own. You’d have asked for a knife and set out without a second thought, if only because being alone in the woods with some guy was less preferable than doing it by yourself. Of course, some guy also probably saved your life, but you’re not quite ready to relinquish your trust completely. 

“Thanks for coming,” you decide. A peace offering. 

Katsuki doesn’t answer and you furrow your brows a little bit. You wonder if he’s always been like this or if the end of the world brought on the loss of his manners. 

Then, he stops, taking you by the arm and pulling you down beside a bush. You gasp and he puts his hand over your mouth to silence you. There’s the urge to bite him, to catch the fleshy bit connecting his thumb and pointer finger between your teeth and bite down till he bleeds, but you stop when you catch what he’s looking at. 

Two of the living dead crouch by a tree, clicking their tongues as they eat something just out of sight. You furrow your eyebrows, eyes widening at the horror of it. For some reason, seeing them always brings about a round of momentary shock. You’ve yet to let go of the hounding thought that they used to be people and sometimes have to reorient yourself to the world you’re in now. 

You catch Katsuki’s eye behind you, his calloused hand still clasped over your mouth, and nod your head. It’s a silent communication that you’ve seen what he has and he removes his palm from your face to grab a knife tucked into his belt, passing it to you quickly. 

The two infected haven’t noticed the two of you yet, but they will soon, if only by the smell of your flesh which has yet to rot. You hear Katsuki let out a breath, as if to calm his heart, and do the same. There’s time to look at them like this and you’re struck by how human you can pretend they are in your head. Well, you suppose they were human once, now they’re a disease using someone’s skin as a mask. 

Infected people aren’t quick, that’s one thing to be grateful for. Back when the outbreak first started, the CDC had released information on what to look out for in those who might have contracted the virus. The first was obviously a bite wound from another infected person, but you can tell from other symptoms. Early symptoms are average. Body aches, fever, lethargy, and delirium. All things you might see with a nasty flu. Then, infection of the wound site, twitching, foggy eyes—like low-grade cataracts—that develop within a matter of hours or days, severe disorientation, aversion to food, insomnia, with the final symptom being a coma that no one ever wakes up as themselves from. 

These are the symptoms that people are conscious for. The ones they feel. The sickness that people tried to nurse others back from. There is no coming back though, not alive at the very least. The virus attacks the nerves throughout the brain and body, that’s what causes the twitching and convulsions. It’s what ultimately kills us, and it's what they think causes the bodies to come back. 

Most infected will crack when they move. It’s the cartilage breaking down as the bones grind together and crack as they’re weakened from the marrow out. They twitch like rabid animals, unable to keep masterful control of their bodies because they are run like puppets from the brain stem. You don’t know if they think. If somehow the people they used to be are still in there, unable to stop themselves from consuming and spreading the virus to others. All you really know is that they twitch and click, functions of the brain that still remain. Tiny impulses sent through the synapses. You imagine it to be like the way you twitch when you sleep, an arm here or a leg there, the way someone might call out with their voice to a room with no one in it. 

Maybe the infected think they’re dreaming. A nightmare that they never wake up from, like those of us who have to put them down. You could see it as a mercy from that perspective. You have an easier time rationalizing putting a knife in someone’s skull if you convince yourself that they’re silently begging for it. 

Katsuki shifts his weight and looks at you. He mouths the words no guns and you nod, briefly wondering where the fuck he thinks you could have gotten a gun from. 

Then, you kick off and run with Katsuki towards the infected. They don’t really have time to begin moving towards you both. You’re faster than them, but you hear the crack of their legs as they stand from their crouched positions, pulled in at the idea of their next meal.

Katsuki takes the farther one, sinking the knife into the soft spot of its temple with relative ease. You switch yourself off and take the one closest only a few moments later, sending your blade through the top of its skull. That happens to you when you have to do this. You turn yourself off for a bit, just so that you don’t have to remember the way it feels to hit the soft part of someone’s brain. You didn’t used to do that, only starting when you realized that there’s no going through this world anymore without it. 

Katsuki wipes the blood on his pants. It’s brown, no longer oxygenated, and the area around you begins to reek. You notice, but for some reason the smell of decomposition doesn’t register in your brain and you continue on behind him. 

There are a few beats of silence, save for twigs breaking under your feet, before Katsuki speaks up. 

“You okay?” It’s barely above a whisper and you wouldn’t have caught it were you not listening for the distinctive crack of human bones. 

“Yeah,” you say, continuing forward. 

The campsite rounds into view and in this light, with your full night’s sleep under your belt, you can see just how pitiful it looks. A tent that you’d hastily put up before nightfall, the remains of your stamped out fire, the folding chair which has since been knocked over, and your weapons on the floor covered by a few leaves disturbed by the wind. 

You snatch them up and move to grab your backpack out of the tent. The inside is shitty too and your torn sleeping bag hadn’t even been rolled out yet. You pick up the bag, returning to the folding chair as Katsuki begins to take down the tent. The polyester and nylon blend zips together as he makes quick work of folding it. Then, he kicks some dry brush over the remains of the fire, like he’s covering your tracks. 

“The next person that comes through here might not be alone,” he says plainly. “And they may have more bullets than you did.” 

“Right,” you respond. Your voice sounds a little far off and you settle your backpack on your shoulder in one quick motion. 

“Got everything?” 

You nod, following him as he heads out in the direction you both came from. The two of you pass the bodies of the infected you’d killed. The smell has permeated the air, lingering like how it does in cities, only less pungent. Their fogged eyes stare blankly at nothing, expressions plain and unreadable. You pass and try not to think much about it. 

Katsuki is a few feet ahead of you and he doesn’t glance back to make sure you’re following. You could leave now and never get attached to these people. You could head off in another direction and never have to think twice about it. No more worrying about who you could lose, about who’s next to become one of the sick masses. Just you by yourself. Then, when you finally kick the can, someone else can put you down the way you did to those strangers. 

Is there really a point to it anymore? To community or living in general. No one is as they once were. Does that make it fantasy to live in their beautiful bubble? Could you even find it in yourself to pretend again, to make nice and play house in that place? They saved your life, sure. They fed you, clothed you, bathed you, but for what point? Tomorrow, you could end up back in the woods, lighting fires with twigs you found in the brush, paranoid that someone would find you or the fire would spread. 

You watch Katsuki’s back as he moves, shoulders shifting with each step. His shirt is stained, white turned eggshell from the wear and tear of time. It seems so off to you that he looks relatively clean, like he lives well. 

Fear strikes you as you realize that your rambling thoughts have merit. Anything you fear now has become real and loss is so tangible to you that you can squeeze it in your hand. They could turn you out. Tomorrow night you could begin the starve and step all over again, moving from place to place, talking to yourself, filling your hours with paranoid thoughts like these that plague you when you’re alone. Is that worse than loss? If you’re alone long enough, you’d probably forget what you’re missing. Losing anyone else could make the wound fresh. For now, the hunger wins out. 

Katsuki jogs ahead of you to get to the house. Momo is on the porch waving him in and he hurries up the steps and bursts through the front door. As you approach, you can hear voices, some of which are relieved, others hurried. When you enter the room, you find a man standing there whom you’ve never seen before, Shoto maybe. 

“A plus one,” the man looks up, tilting his head at you in an odd way. 

“Katsuki’s,” Kiri says with a low smirk. 

Shoto’s eyes widen as he peers at his friend, clutching what looks like an injured shoulder. Katsuki just huffs his irritation. 

“Well, that’s rare,” Shoto says. 

“What’s rare?” Katsuki spits. “They were in the woods with a fire. What was I supposed to do? Let ‘em die?” 

“Maybe,” Shoto says, a light smile creeping onto his features. Then, he turns to you. “What’s your name?” 

You give it to him and he nods his head, tilting it at you again. 

“How long are you staying?”

You’re not sure how to answer that question. In fact, no one is, and it feels like more of a test than it does a genuine inquiry. Kiri and Mina exchange a glance and Katsuki tosses a somewhat dirty look towards Shoto. Ochako gives Shoto a knowing glance and Sero and Denki shift uncomfortably on their feet. Then, Momo clears her throat, spurring Izuku to say something. 

“Shoto,” he says. “You’re probably hungry, you should eat something and lay down. Ochako? Could you take a look at his shoulder?” 

“Sure,” the girl says softly, giving a closed mouth smile to Shoto as she takes him by the arm. 

She glances at you as she passes, almost like she’s too embarrassed to look at you fully in the face. You suppose this is what happens when people are forced to think about whether or not they will potentially leave someone else to die. It’s like the trolley cart question and though in this case there is always the possibility of a better outcome, it’s not likely in this world. 

“Just until I’m rested,” you add with a small tilt of your head. “A few days.” 

Shoto looks at you over his shoulder and gives you a small smile. It’s funny, you can see kindness there. His actions aren’t kind, but you can feel that he has kindness in him, though his rudeness stems from something different than Katsuki’s, you think. Like he’s strange in some way. 

“I’ll start on dinner,” Sero says. “Kiri, give me a hand.” 

The group disperses and you head upstairs without speaking to anyone else. A few days to rest and then cut the first people you’ve spoken to in weeks loose. What sort of idiot gives up something like this to avoid a little awkwardness? Not that you necessarily had your mind made up. You wonder briefly if you’ve just sealed your own tomb. 

—

After dinner, you go upstairs to sleep after eating as much as they would offer you. Your stomach has ceased its constant growling and the shakiness that comes with hunger has receded almost entirely into the background. The bed is soft, with a slight dent in it from whoever slept in here before. The thought unsettles you that they’re probably dead now, but you try to push it from your mind as you steel yourself for what comes within the next few days. 

You had volunteered yourself to leave. To what? Save yourself the embarrassment of pleading? Did you even want to plead? Why are you regretting not asking to stay? These people don’t know you, what trust can you have built with them in only a few days? Your skin crawls at the expanse of possibilities in front of you after so many weeks without any. 

You think that if you let yourself walk away, you’ll probably die. You’re out of bullets and don’t know where to find any food except by luck. You can try to catch prey, but prey hides whenever infected are around, and they’re everywhere nowadays. It’s spring, water wouldn’t be a problem, but running water has its clear comforts. Then, there’s the possibility of loss. You’d come to care for these people if you stayed, you know it. 

You furrow your eyebrows and look at the ceiling. There’s really no choice to be made. You’ll let them make it for you, even if you don’t know them. It’s their house and you won’t walk in uninvited or try to take it. You’re not about to become a monster just because the world is full of them now.

The darkness grows and your eyes drift to the dim light wandering in under the crack of the door. Hushed voices whisper in the living room, you can hear them. It’s a heated discussion, lively, but deliberately quiet. It’s been hours since everyone went to bed, yet you get the impression that many people are chiming in. You’re too nosey to leave it be. 

You open the bedroom door silently, turning the cool knob with a wince as it clicks out of place. When you peer into the hallway, every upstairs bedroom door is open with the room empty. The light is coming from down stairs and around the corner, and you can see shadows move as you inch closer to the source. 

You pause at the top of the stairs, knowing that they creak, and crouch by the bannister to listen. You’re out of sight. The only way they’d know you’re listening is if you made a sound, but you won’t. You’re good at being quiet. 

“We don’t even know them,” someone says in a rushed whisper. “We don’t know what they’ve done before.” 

“Everyone’s done things they’re not proud of now, Shoto,” a woman adds. It’s Mina. She’s spoken enough to you that you recognize her voice. 

“I agree with Shoto,” says another woman, her voice higher pitched. She sounds guilty and her voice is tight as she speaks “We have no clue who they are. They could be dangerous.” 

“You mean like me, Ochako?” A man adds. “I could have been dangerous.” 

The group grows quiet for a moment. 

“No,” Momo says. You recognize the cadence of her voice. “Shoto might be right, Denki. It’s been nearly six months since you got here and the world has changed a lot. We don’t- we can’t know for sure.”

“Can we really know anything for sure?” Another man adds, Kiri.

“What about you guys?” Shoto says, presumably to the rest of the group. 

“I don’t know.”

“I’m hesitant, but I don’t know either.”  

“Jesus,” another man with a baritone voice, harsher than the rest. That’s Katsuki, the first voice you’d heard of the group. “You guys make me a little sick.” 

“That’s not fair,” Ochako says. 

“No,” he interrupts. “It is fair. You guys want to… what? Send them back out there to die?” 

“It’s not like that,” Shoto says.  

“It is like that,” he says, raising his voice and then lowering it back to a whisper. “You didn’t see them when they got here, Shoto. They- they didn’t look… shit. The rest of you, you saw them. You really want to send them back out there to fuckin’ waste away? I don’t know about you all, but I won’t do that to a person.” 

There’s a pregnant pause.

“Katsuki’s right,” Izuku says with a bit of conviction, like he’s finally made up his mind. “Sending someone out there alone is a death sentence. How does doing that make us any better than the people we’re trying to protect ourselves from?” 

“What if there are more of them?” Ochako says quietly. “What if they’re not alone?” 

“Trust me,” Katsuki says, “They were alone.” 

“But what if they’re not?” She insists at a whisper, a bit of shame creeping into her voice. “What if people come for us?” 

“See?” Shoto says gently. “There are so many what-ifs.” 

“That works the other way too,” Mina adds. 

You don’t listen to hear the rest of their conversation. They’re going to run themselves in circles debating about you. They’ll go around and around and land on whichever argument ends with the most votes. They’ll convince each other of one thing and it will happen totally out of your control. 

The bedroom door shuts with a low click that makes you wince again. You think about the people who went to bat for you and the people who didn’t. You don’t blame those who opposed. You’d have probably reacted similarly if your old group were still alive and you understand very clearly why they do it. One person’s stupid reaction can be catastrophic and they don’t know enough about you to be certain that you’re not one of those stupid people. It’s how the world went to shit in the first place and though nine months ago you’d have surely condemned someone for making the same decision, you know that fear has warped humanity beyond comprehension. You didn’t get it until you lived it. 

Still, Katsuki’s humanity feels intact somehow, more so than yours at least. His response is something you probably never would have said under the same conditions and you can’t help but feel some sort of fondness bloom in you for him. Call it connection, gratefulness for his willingness to stick his neck out for you, a trauma response. You still feel it. Mina and Kiri had said that Katsuki was a good judge of character and that’s why they were willing to back him. You wonder briefly if maybe Katsuki sees something in you that you don’t recognize in yourself anymore, or maybe something you don’t expect other people to recognize. What is it that he wants so badly to protect? 

Someone stomps down the hallway, heavy boots against the old creaky floors. You hear the steps recede down the hallway, maybe a door or two down, before it shuts quickly. The sound makes you wince and you listen as the house grows quiet and then hums quietly with the sound of others coming upstairs a few moments later. Someone pads to the end of the hall, pushing the door open. 

You hear a woman’s voice, so muffled that you can’t make out what she’s saying. Then, you hear the sound of a man’s affirmation before the bedroom door shuts and the visitor moves back down the hall to a separate bedroom. Information passing through the house. 

Someone is moving around in a room below you and you figure that there are probably bedrooms downstairs as well. From the outside, you’d never guess that the place could house ten people. Inside though, the bedrooms are small. That’s probably why so many can fit. You’d guess that the place used to have multiple generations living in it, or maybe even rented out rooms to people for a few months. It sort of has a boarding house feel to it, like many people have come and gone even before people stopped staying in one place. 

That’s a good thing to call it, the boarding house. It certainly has that sort of feel to it, many of its spaces undeniably communal. 

You turn over in the bed, facing the bedroom door. The lights have gone out completely now and the house is quiet save for the occasional creak or thud from someone preparing to sleep. It’s been a long while since the sounds of living have been so prevalent near you. You’re eased by the sounds of the house settling, a familiar reminder of what living used to be. Your group had been on the road long before you lost them and the comforts of an interior are almost overwhelmingly nostalgic. You’re better rested to notice it now and shutting your eyes, you savor the feeling. 

—

“Need some help?” You say. 

Denki turns around, grease smeared across his nose where he likely wiped it with his dirty hands. He’s holding a wrench in a glove so tattered that it hardly counts as a glove anymore. He looks startled, amber eyes widening before he uses his forearm to brush stray hairs out of his face. The rest of it is pulled up into a messy ponytail, revealing the moist back of his neck. 

“Oh, sure,” he says, a bit surprised. “Do you know how generators work?” 

He crouches back over the machine and you step up behind him. 

The machine is rusted near the bottom and between the exposed winding pipes. Its paint has chipped away, leaving the weather-damaged metal open for you to see. On the side, a fan-like piece spins slowly in circles and the machine whirs and sputters softly as it… generates power, probably. 

“Not quite, but an extra pair of hands is always helpful,” you say softly, passing him a tool he’d been reaching for. “Did it break?” 

“No,” Denki says, “but it’s probably on its last legs. The thing’s almost as old as we are, probably older, so it’s good to tune it up a bunch.” 

You hum your agreement, tilting your head as you stand and watch him work. 

You’re not necessarily comfortable with Denki, but he feels like a safe person for some reason. Maybe it’s because he’s got a sort of ditzy, non-threatening vibe to him. You can almost distinctly picture him tripping over his own feet and something about that makes you feel considerably safer than someone who wouldn’t. That and he was the first person you’ve come across this morning who you don’t think distrusts you too badly. 

“Are you dodging something?” Denki smirks up at you from his crouch. 

“Who on earth would I be dodging?” you snort a bit defensively. 

“Shoto,” he says with a light smile. “He put you in a tight spot the other day.” 

“Yeah, well,” you say, glancing over your shoulder. “It wasn’t anything he didn’t have a right to ask.” 

“Right, but it sure was rude, huh?” 

Denki laughs to himself a little and you’re surprised by how easygoing he is. You subconsciously begin to categorize him with Mina and Kiri. The dichotomy of this group baffles you a bit, but you can certainly see all nine of them as a collective. Tightly knit and well acquainted with the habits of others. 

“Oh!” He exclaims, “I have something you can do for me.” 

You tilt your head. 

“There’s a bucket over there,” he says, pointing absentmindedly to a shitty plastic bucket against the side of the house. “We use the water from the creek as coolant. It’s not factory grade, but it does the trick. You wanna go fill it up and bring it back for when I’m done tuning this thing up?” 

You furrow your eyebrows, not sure where the creek he’s talking about is. 

“The creek is just over there,” he points behind the house to the edge of the treeline. “I know you can’t see it from here, but if you walk in a straight line, you’ll hit it. Katsuki should be down there too, so you can use him as a landmark.” 

When you don’t immediately answer, Denki whines a little. 

“I mean,” he says, “I’d go myself, but-” 

“I’ll do it,” you laugh a little and Denki seems surprised that you do. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah,” you shrug. “I’d like to pull some weight at least while I’m here. Plus, I offered.” 

Denki mumbles his pleasure and you walk to the bucket without another word and set off in the direction Denki pointed. You’re much more willing to go out to the treeline now that you have a knife back at your side. 

The walk to the trees is longer than it looks, like how sometimes the horizon looks like something you could reach out and climb up onto. The walk stretches with each step you take and you become a little more understanding of why Denki didn’t want to do it himself. But the walk is actually pleasant, the warmth of mid May collecting evenly on your skin as the humidity grows more intense with the sun. 

You wonder what Katsuki would be doing by the creek. Maybe he’s fishing, or crouched over himself sharpening an arsenal of knives that you think he might keep in a roll attached to his belt sometimes. You’re not sure why, but Katsuki sort of has that expression to him. He’s handsome, but the scowl projects something hostile that makes him seem unapproachable. 

As you cross through the middle of the clearing, you could almost imagine that this is a normal day. Humidity collects on your skin, making you sweat a little as you dodge gopher holes and soft spots of dirt. It almost feels like summer camp, if it weren’t for the looming idea that you’re contributing to something you may not be a part of. Denki’s attitude though, has you hoping for a more favorable outcome, if you want to call it that. 

You’re only a few steps into the line of trees when the earth dips into a sand-lined ravine. The trees leave room for the sun to beat down on warmed rocks, making the area seem brighter with their subtle reflection of the light. The noise of the creek drowns out the sound of your footsteps and you shuffle toward where the earth flattens just before the water starts. A little ways to your right, you can see Katsuki sitting on a rock in the sun, his hands dipped into a large bucket. You narrow your eyes as he pulls what looks like a cloth out of the water, rubbing the fabric together before dipping it in the cool water of the creek.

As you approach, you realize what it is that he’s doing. It’s laundry. On the other side of him, you can see a bin of what look like dirty clothes and water-soaked clean ones. Talk about misjudged character. 

“Katsuki,” you say as you approach him, the bucket still empty in your hand.

He squints up at you, shifting his face so that it's in your shadow. 

“You’re still here,” he says plainly, returning to his task. 

“Clearly,” you respond, watching as he runs his fingers over the next piece of clothing in the bucket. 

“Why are you down here? Did Denki pawn the generator water onto you?” He says, like he’s somewhat frustrated. “He does that shit to anyone he can.” 

You shrug your shoulders and continue to stare at him. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” He huffs out. 

“You’re doing laundry.” 

“Yeah?” he furrows his eyebrows and looks at you. “So?” 

“Nothing,” you say. “I just didn’t expect that.” 

“Yeah well,” he stops for a moment like he’s struggling to find the words. “It needed to be done. Figured I might as well.” 

“How progressive of you,” you joke with a straight face. 

He looks at you out of the corner of his eyes and sighs, not justifying your comment with a response. You find yourself smiling a little bit. 

“If you’re going to linger, sit down and do it,” he says. “You’re creeping me out.” 

You oblige him and sit down on a rock next to him, far enough that you’re not touching, but near enough to hear him if you speak in a low voice. For some reason, you feel a sort of kinship with Katsuki. You’d thought longer than you’d like to admit about his willingness to vouch for you and find that you want to live up to his expectation of your goodness, even if it’s not what you believe yourself to be anymore. Maybe it’s because you’ve slept well the past few nights and feel more like yourself, but there’s a certain casualness to conversing with him that you enjoy. He’s not looking at what you could be, but rather what you’re showing him that you are. His lack of doubt in that is something you find relatively attractive. 

You watch his arms out of the corner of your eye in between gazing at the treeline and the sky. Your field of vision catches on them, his sleeves cut short to expose his biceps, a bit muddied near the elbows where the mud has begun to stick. 

Katsuki doesn’t seem all that bothered by your presence, but now and then you’ll catch the sideways glance he gives you, almost like he’s trying to figure out exactly why you’re lingering. 

“How long have you been with them?” You ask, more as a way to fill the silence. 

Katsuki’s hands pause as he thinks about answering, then, they continue their steady pace. 

“A decent amount of time,” he says. “I met Izuku first, probably in November just before Mina and Kiri. The rest came later.” 

You furrow your eyebrows. 

“No offense,” you start, “but you don’t really seem like the group type.” 

“And you don’t seem like the type who’d be alone,” he retorts, like your statement was stupid. 

You press your lips into a tight line, not really knowing how to respond. 

“Sorry,” he says, shaking his head a little. 

“Were you?” 

“What? Was I sorry?” He furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“No,” you shake your head. “Were you alone? Before Izuku.” 

He goes silent. You’ll take that as a yes, but you regret asking a little. It had just slipped out. If someone were to ask you something like that, you’d probably react the same way. That’s just as well, you don’t really need to know him like that anyway. 

You wonder briefly if anyone does. He seems closed off, but Mina and Kiri spoke about him a few days prior like they knew him well. Well enough at least to allude to a history you’ll likely never be privy to. Then there’s Momo, who whispers little things to him that he answers in kind. Curiosity gets the better of you, if only to tease. 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you ask and Katsuki’s response is to rest his elbows on his knees and let out a dry laugh. 

He turns his head and looks at you from the side. “And what the fuck are you asking me that for?” 

“Just curious,” you say. “Is it Momo?” 

“Momo?” He makes a sour face at you. “Yeah, right.” 

“She’s pretty,” you say. 

“Sure is,” he responds dryly. “If you’re into the mom type.” 

“What? You’re not into moms?” You grin a little and Katsuki furrows his eyebrows at you. 

“So you do have a personality,” he scoffs a little. 

There’s a pause. You haven’t felt this in a while. The feeling of bonding with someone new, compatibility on the human level that feels nearly instant. 

“I’m kinda serious though,” you say, tilting your head down to catch his eye. “Do you?” 

You’re leaning a little closer to him now.

“You seen any nice restaurants to take a person out to these days?” he questions, clearly a little frustrated with you in the way someone gets when they’re a bit amused. 

“You don’t have to take someone out to a restaurant to fuck them, you know?” You laugh a little. 

Katsuki’s lips part and he swallows like his mouth has gone dry. 

“Yeah, well,” he starts, looking away from you. “I’m a romantic. Sue me.” 

He’s just full of surprises, isn’t he? You find that you’re captivated by this feeling, this humanity, that exists in him. It’s something alive between you both, something left behind from the old world, and you crave it the same way you crave food. 

Katsuki continues scrubbing the clothes, rubbing the fabric together and then dunking it in the bucket before plunging it into the freshwater creek. You’re not sure why you do it, but the next time he looks at you, you kiss him. 

It’s not as if you like him, but it’s something to feel. Some remnant of the butterflies you used to feel on dates and the kiss makes you feel like you could be close to human again. You pull away almost as soon as you put his lips to yours and you can tell that the expression on your face is one of surprise.

Katsuki blinks for a second, looking at you with his brows knitted together. The expression doesn’t leave him as he places a wet hand on the side of your face to kiss you again. It’s an anxious kiss, confused and slow but—like someone riding a bike for the first time in years—it quickly becomes something familiar. Muscle memory that you both let yourselves sink into. 

You can feel his expression as he kisses you, something between confusion and desire, like his own actions are perplexing. You feel the same way, hesitant, but reaching in the dark for the promise of some sort of normalcy. You want to feel like a person again. You haven’t felt it in so long and you push yourself against him as the ache swells in you. 

The two of you continue like this for a moment, Katsuki’s fingers pressing lightly into the skin of your neck. You moan softly as his tongue slips into your mouth, taking a sharp inhale at the sensation of skin on skin. The sound of the creek drowns out the clicking of your mouths, but you can feel the way he hums into your mouth. They’re little sounds, involuntary ones driven by the nervous, desirous feelings inside of you both. 

Then, Katsuki pulls away, swallowing thick as he takes his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment. You appreciate the way they look. They’re swollen, anxious to continue and keep forgetting where you really are. He drops his hand from your face with a sigh and almost seems like he comes back to himself. You do the same, moving back into an upright position. 

“Denki will want that water soon,” he clears his throat and motions to the empty bucket by your feet. 

“Oh,” you say, laughing a little. “Right.” 

You stand, dusting off the back of your pants and dunking the bucket into the water. It sloshes, the liquid hitting the back of the plastic with a satisfying elastic sound. You begin to walk away without another word, heading down the way you came to climb up the gentler part of the slope. 

“Hey,” Katsuki calls softly. “You should stay. We talked it over last night. You can if you want to.” 

The last part, he says facing the wash, his hands moving as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You don’t respond, knowing that the obvious answer is already yes. 

Dread settles in your stomach. It’s an icky, swirling feeling that threatens to make you double over. You climb up the bank, the water in the bucket sloshing as you move through the trees and enter the clearing. The feeling doesn’t dissipate, growing as you leave the cover of the trees. You probably wouldn’t have kissed him if he’d asked you that earlier. 

The boarding house comes into view and you can see Denki sitting beside the generator, conversing with who appears to be Shoto. They turn and Denki waves you down, Shoto turning away and starting around for the front of the house. 

Denki jogs to meet you, taking the bucket from your hand. You flex your fingers as the weight is removed, wincing a little at how stiff they feel. 

“Jeez, what took you so long?” Denki laughs and with your new information, you understand his willingness to be friendly with you a little better. 

“I asked Katsuki for his life story,” you respond dryly, following him back to the generator. 

Denki looks over his shoulder and laughs at you. “Did he tell you?” 

You pause for a moment, watching as Denki unscrews something and pours the water in. 

“Nope,” you say. “Not a thing.”

Click Here to go to the second chapter and find the rest of the series on ao3. The remainder will not be posted on tumlbr, but please feel free to reblog!

[a-soft-hornytiny]

Loved.

Summary: They don’t love me as much as I love them was what you thought while leaving for the better. And it was too late when they realized how important you are to them.

Word count: 1.5k+

Genre: Angst

Pairing: poly!ateez x neutral!reader

Warnings: neglect (be careful while reading) let me know if i missed something.

Notes: this is an anon request, thanks for requesting. It reminded me of the reaction i did to you distancing yourself hehe i rarely write angst and im not sure how happy i am with it but I hope it’s to your liking! 

Part 2 is up!

Taglist: after the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

—————————————

Where did it go wrong? You thought while frantically packing your things. You had spent hours and hours to find what you did to deserve this but you couldn’t find anything. Nothing pointed towards you doing something wrong but nonetheless you were here, aggressively stuffing your things into a bag while tears were streaming down your face. 

It had started about a month ago. You should’ve been suspicious when they started coming home even later than usual, some of them not at all. Always telling you that there was a meeting at work and that they had already eaten, leaving you to sit at the dining table alone. In the beginning you had still waited for them, hoping every day that at least one of them would be there and have dinner with you but it was always the same.

“Sorry.” “The boss invited us for dinner.” “I’m so tired I need to go to sleep.” “We had take out at work.” 

It left you confused. There was a time where they fought about who can sit next to you during the meals but now it seemed like they didn’t care anymore. You had only realised what exactly was happening when you saw a picture on Wooyoung phone. A picture of them with one of their colleagues. A beautiful woman with a bright smile, surrounded by your boyfriends. 

Jealousy had immediately risen inside of you but you didn’t say anything. It was not like they weren’t allowed to spend time with other people. Instead, you let your doubts eat you from the inside. Did they eat with her every day? Was she the reason they stayed at work longer than they would normally? Was she better than you? 

The worst part was that they didn’t notice. They didn’t notice how you felt and that you were distancing yourself. You would’ve thought that at least one of them cares. But all they cared about was being with that woman. 

What hurt you the most was that they didn’t tell you about her. If they had been honest with you, you wouldn’t have created all these scenarios in your head. But they lied to you. 

“Yeosang?” You tried to get his attention by tapping his shoulder. It was rare that all eight of them were at home. You wanted to talk about it. Voice your anxious thoughts. Letting them go. “Who is that woman you all have been hanging around?” You asked him because you knew he would be honest with you. The room instantly became silent.

“Oh? Do you mean Haeun? She works with us.” Yeosang answered, not giving you a lot of information. “Why do you ask?” 

You didn’t know what to say. “I-.. I’m just curious.” You stuttered, looking down at your feet. 

“She is really fun to be around! Recently she even invited us for dinner and paid.” San said excitedly. His words stabbed right into your heart. This was worse than you expected.

They weren’t cheating on you. You somehow could feel that. It was worse. They hadn’t been doing anything with a bad intention. They simply enjoyed spending time with her. 

They took you for granted. 

From that conversation on you decided not to chase after them anymore. You didn’t wait until they came home to eat dinner. You didn’t ask them how their day was. The few messages that you got during the day, you ignored. If they wanted to tell you something they could tell you in person. 

Your boyfriends on the other side didn’t realize how much time they were spending with Haeun. And how less they were spending time with you. 

The first one to notice that something was weird about you was Mingi. He had always left you a message during the day. Sometimes about work, what they ate for lunch or when they would be coming home. And normally you would respond relatively quickly. But you didn’t answer at all.

He sat in his practice room, eyes glued on his phone. Read two hours ago. It said on his screen. Mingi had voiced his concerns to the others but they disagreed saying that you didn’t behave differently. But he missed you. He wanted to eat dinner with you. Yes, Haeun was fun and when she first got introduced to the team, it was exciting to meet someone new. But he missed the familiarity. It had always been important to Mingi that he was not taken for granted and now he was afraid that they had done exactly that to you. 

But he didn’t act on his feelings. He didn’t want to cause drama where there was none.

The second one to miss you was Jongho. “Y/n what do you…” He wanted to ask you for your opinion on his singing when he turned around and faced an empty room. Right, Y/n isn’t here. He reminded himself, immediately feeling a sting in his heart. Every Tuesday you would follow him to practice and listen to him sing. But as soon as he thought about it he realized that you hadn’t been there in multiple weeks. Jongho instantly remembered Mingi’s concerns and decided to go look for him.

When they finally opened up about their feelings and what they had been observing, Mingi and Jongho went to tell the others. 

Before they could even finish what they were trying to say, Seonghwa tried to call you. He was blaming himself for not giving you the attention you deserved. He wanted to beat himself up. It was so clear now that Mingi and Jongho had mentioned it.

How could they neglect you like this and not even notice? 

And that was the same question you asked yourself as you zipped up your bag. Just as you wanted to put your phone into your pocket, it started ringing. It was Seonghwa. You took a deep breath as you declined the call and left the apartment.

You didn’t know for how long or how far but you needed to get away. Right after getting into the taxi you had ordered, you turned off your phone indefinitely.

“Y/n isn’t answering.” Seonghwa announced, his voice shaking. 

“Get in the car. I’m driving us home.” Yunho said, leaving the room with big steps. The others following him. Yunho’s mind was racing. He wanted to stay calm. He needed to stay calm. He had to be strong. It didn’t matter how he felt, all he wanted was to see your face and make sure everything is fine. It was all just imagination. You will be waiting at home. He tried to tell himself while he was getting into the car. 

Hongjoong was trying to remember any signs of you changing while he was squeezing himself into the car. He had never been home as much as the others so it wasn’t strange for him to eat alone or to sneak into the bedroom without waking anyone up. But something had been strange. This morning, when he came out of the bathroom, he caught you staring at him. And he could swear you had tears in your eyes. But since you didn’t say anything he had assumed you were fine. This damn assumption.

When they finally arrived at their apartment, San immediately jumped out of the car and ran to the door.

“Y/n? Y/n!” He called you before he even entered the building. Wooyoung and Yeosang were right behind him. After finally opening the door they stormed in searching for you in their home. The rest followed them slowly, scared to not find you. 

It wasn’t until he heard a sob that Wooyoung slowed down. A sob? He made his way over to your room, gently pushing the door open. His eyes widened as he saw San kneeling in front of your bed, a note in his hands and his face buried in your sheets. 

“Sannie?” Wooyoung slowly walked closer to his loved one. “Y/n…” San sobbed, not able to form a sentence. “What is it Sannie?” Wooyoung kneeled down next to him, softly taking the note from his hands. As he started reading, tears formed in his eyes. 

And that was when the others finally found them. They looked at Wooyoung, hope and pain in their eyes at the same time as he slowly shook his head. Yeosang’s legs gave in as he saw the expression on Wooyoung’s face. You were gone. No no no that’s impossible he thought, staring to the ceiling with a blank face. You couldn’t leave them.

Still not wanting to believe what was happening, Yunho harshly snapped the note out of Wooyoung’s hand. 

I am going on a trip. Don’t text or call me, I need time to think. I hope you understand. I loved you so much.

His head went numb.

Loved. 

————

Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives

————

[imaslutforwritingshit]

Things Ethan Landry would text you if you were his s/o (Part 2)

Gender neutral, contains sexting/smut

Warnings- knifeplay fantasies, sadism fantasies, killer trope.

tags!- @nowitsmissing

THREE THOUSAND MILES

Y/n: i miss u sm

Y/n: im thinking of you

Ethan: I miss you too.

Y/n: what’s it like? the forest?

Ethan: it smells like shit. The only good thing about this cabin is how vacant the area is.

Y/n: now, how many people have you already killed on your family vacation, ethan?

Ethan: zero

Y/n: i don’t believe u

Ethan: it’s tempting. I would line up their bodies and impale them like the Voivode of Wallachia.

Y/n: huh?

Ethan: I need you teach you about history, pretty girl. You seem to lack knowledge in the cruelest dictators of all time.

Y/n: like adolf hitler? not really a flex to have nazis in your brain

Ethan: No no no. Like, the most inspiring and overall good torturers.

Y/n: is anyone who tortures people a good person?

Ethan: I am.

Y/n: you’re a very bad person, ethan. no need to hide the truth from me.

Y/n: i like you for your darkness

Ethan: yeah?

Y/n: yeah

Ethan: would you still like me if I had a knife to your body?

Ethan: slicing scars into your skin

Ethan: making you mine

Y/n: what if I would?

Ethan: then you would be a fucking idiot.

Y/n: anything for you.

Ethan: Anything? Don’t tempt me.

Y/n: but I enjoy it so so much.

Ethan: if I was in town I would be by your house already

Ethan: i would open your window

Ethan: and fuck you so hard you would be begging me to stop

Ethan: I would choke you until you were seeing stars. I would force you to look at me

Ethan: watch me as I fucked you

Y/n: I want you so bad

Y/n: i would beg for it if it means I’d have you again

Ethan: slut

Ethan: you’re so weak. my fucking toy.

Ethan: I can’t believe how pathetic you are. I could have you my way, fuck you until you’re bleeding, and screaming

Ethan: I could kill you.

Y/n: the thrill of that excites me

Ethan: you really are a whore

Y/n: don’t act like you don’t enjoy it

Y/n: the thought of me so obedient to you.

Ethan: Oh, I’m not acting.

Y/n: I think you’re the whore, ethan

Y/n: fantasizing about me

Y/n: i bet your dirty mind can’t stop thinking of me stripping

Y/n: pleasing you

Ethan: god

Y/n: ?

Y/n: what?

Ethan: i can’t keep my hand out of my pants when i text you

Y/n: you’re touching yourself?

Ethan: yeah

Y/n: what are you thinking about?

Ethan: bending you over

Ethan: choking you while I fuck that tight body

Ethan: seeing you turn white with fear

Y/n: im touching myself too

Ethan: good

Y/n: i miss your cock inside of me

Y/n: im so empty without you

Ethan: fuck

Ethan: i’m so close

Y/n: me too

Ethan: not yet

Y/n: please

Y/n: im edging myself

Ethan: i thought you liked the pain

Y/n: i do

Ethan: so endure it.

Ethan: you’re making me feral

Ethan: i’m gonna cum

Y/n: please

Y/n: i cant take it anymore

Ethan: fuck

Ethan: i’m cumming

Y/n: i already did

Ethan: so desperate

Y/n: i miss your body so much

Ethan: you know what you do to me? I’m grinding my hips into my fist. my body is wet with my cum

Ethan: I had to bite my lip to stop from screaming your name

Y/n: id kill for you.

Ethan: I’ve already killed for you.

Y/n: I love you

Ethan: you shouldn’t.

Y/n: i can’t control the way you make my nerves catch on fire

Ethan: when I get home I’m gonna ruin you

Ethan: keep your window unlocked

Ethan: i can’t wait to see you shaking for me

Ethan: i love you too

Y/n: take a picture of a bear for me

Ethan: there’s no bears in this forest

Y/n: you’ll figure it out

Ethan: ig so

Ethan: anything for you, my love

Y/n: :)

[ada7201]

Jealous Sae Itoshi x manager reader? The reader is the manager of Sae's team and Sae is in love with her. The reader is a sweet and kind manager who is nice to everyone and would help them in anything, this causes her to get lots of attention from Sae's teammates. Sae gets really jealous when his teammates try to be close to the reader. His blood boils when he sees his teammates being simp around the reader (only he can be a simp for her). He wanted her to only be with him. One day he couldn't take it anymore. He fired his own manager from his job and asked her to be his own manager.

hello! sure i can do this, sounds like such a cute idea! 🤍 also, im just making Sae’s team the u20 team because it’s easier. (^з^)〜☆ also i am very sorry for releasing this late. i have been a bit busy lately :(

miss manager

Sae Itoshi x female reader

Sae was cooped up in his office, signing away at papers with an angry and tired scowl on his face. although, the malice which was radiating off of him before had melted off as he heard two knocks on the door, followed by his sweet little manager’s voice.

well, not his. but his. you know?

“yes, come in.” he’d say, masking the happiness he was feeling with a neutral expression and tone

“Itoshi, you have a request for an interview, and the team is going to be having a group training session in a day or two. will you be able to make it? and i need your signature for this document. oh, and don’t forget to get back to me about that interview. they’re quite impatient!” your words are quick, and you pull a paper away from your clipboard and slap it right onto Sae’s desk, before you flick through the rest of the papers that are clipped onto your board.

Sae quickly signed the document, eager to do whatever you asked of him. “yeah, i can make it to the training. and is the interview necessary?” he’d inquire, sharp teal eyes looking up at you, who had already clipped the now signed document to your clipboard as you headed towards the door. “and please, call me Sae.”

“it’s not necessary, i’ll decline it. i apologise, but i need to get the rest of the team to sign a few things, give me a call if you need me!” you say hurriedly, before rushing out of the room - leaving as quick as you came.

Sae sighed.

you’re always in and out like a flash, and he barley gets to see you. you’re always busy with the rest of the team, but after a few subtle questions he found out that you’re just a busy person. how annoying. what were you doing all the time? just relax a little … with him!

the next time he saw you was in the group training session, and that was probably the first time the team had seen you in one place for more than 5 minutes.

“miss l/nnn〜” Shidou would grin, wandering over to where you were sat, calmly taking notes on the team’s improvement. “watcha’ doin?” he’d ask, leaning down to look at the notebook in your hand. it was filled with sticky notes and bookmarks, each labeled with a variety of things, ranging from wins, losses, each team member, and other things that you thought were important.

if Shidou was being honest, he had no idea why you kept that. but he didn’t care, either!

“taking notes. your skills have improved s lot since the last match, Shidou.” you say sweetly, looking up at the player as your back rested against the chair you were sat on. it was a nice setup, the team really treated you, with an umbrella shielding you from the hot sun, a cool drink, sunglasses, and some snacks.

well, it wasn’t the team. it was Sae who had done all that for you.

“awe, thank you!” Shidou would coo, making himself comfortable on the floor next to your chair. “you were watching me train, right?” he’d ask, tilting his head slightly as he smiled at you.

“i was watching everyone.” you respond simply, but keeping the sweet tone on your voice. your hand reached over to Shidou, gently scratching at his scalp to calm him down before he has a tantrum.

Sae was watching from the other end of the field, foot rested on a ball as his eyes narrowed. what was that fool doing with you? yeah, it was his break, but he shouldn’t be spending it with Sae’s manager!

“l/n.” Sae would call out to you, before kicking the ball away and walking over to where you and Shidou were sat.

you looked up from your notebook, eyes locking with Sae’s. “oh, hi Itoshi.” you smile at the man.

“hello.” he greets, sending a glare over to Shidou, who simply grinned back at him.

“hey, little manager!” Aiku would shout from the field. “watch this, it’s for you!” he’d wink, before his foot slammed down onto the ball and he… scored!

Sae grumbled something under his breath, before reaching out and grabbing your hand, pulling you up from your seat before dragging you away from the team.

“aw, don’t take her for yourself!” “where are you going with l/n?” “l/nnnnn!” “come back miss manager!”

“don’t listen to them.” Sae would huff, tugging you closer to him before walking into his office.

“Itoshi! what are you doing?!” you squeal, a hand pushing at his chest.

“how many times have i told you to call me Sae?” he’d frown. “whatever. you should be a manager for me and me alone. i’ll quit this stupid team and join a new one as captain, yeah? and you’ll be mine.”

“what? that’s absurd!” you respond, eyes widening at his words. “how would that even work-“

your voice was cut off by Sae’d arms wrapping around you, one hand on the back of your head as he (gently) pushed it into his chest.

“shut up.” he’d say simply. “please?” he adds after a moment of hesitation, suddenly terrified of the way he was going about this. could it really work? like, he literally just dragged you into his office and forcefully hugged you. maybe this wasn’t -

“alright… if that’s really want you want, i wouldn’t mind.” you say, snapping Sae out of his doubts “Sae?”

his ears perked up at the sound of his name, his arms instinctively hugging you a little closer. “yes, y/n?” why was he blushing so much after just … speaking your first name? well, you say his… so it’s only fair, right?

“can i tell you something?” your voice comes out a bit shaky, hesitant, even.

Sae nods.

“i like you.” you confess, slightly impressed with the way you managed to not stutter.

“i like you too…” Sae pauses. “but i’ll like you more when you’re my own manager.”

sigh.

[screamingaboutaceattorney]

i don’t even know anymore

edit: image ids under the cut

image 1: image id: a tumblr post edited to look like characters from the ace attorney series are speaking. dahlia hawthorne says “yes im trying to kill you LOL stop being so immature about it” with a happy expression. end id

image 2: image id: a tumblr post edited to look like characters from the ace attorney series are speaking. aura blackquill says “*sips green chemicals out of my Erlenmeyer flask using a silly straw*” with a happy expression while clonco stands to her left. end id

image 3: image id: a tumblr post edited to look like characters from the ace attorney series are speaking. at the top of the post is a picture of a bunch of snails in a ring with one snail in the center on top of a glass table. text on the picture reads “My girlfriend walked outside this morning to see this, a bunch of snails in a circle with leader in the middle…” juniper woods says “We’ve found it Snail Church” with a happy expression. myriam scuttlebutt then says “snurch” with her arms crossed. hugh o’conner says “Take me to snurch” with a smug expression. end id

image 4: image id: a tumblr post edited to look like characters from the ace attorney series are speaking. trucy wright says “weatherboy (derogatory)” while pouting with her hands on her hips. apollo justice asks “op what does this mean” with an exasperated expression. trucy replies “wouldn’t you like to know weatherboy” with a happy expression. end id

image 5: image id: a tumblr post edited to look like characters from the ace attorney series are speaking. aura blackquill says “im the smartest person on earth. if you saw my tits you’d understand.” with a smug expression while resting on clonco. end id

image 6: image id: a tumblr post edited to look like characters from the ace attorney series are speaking. raymond shields says “i love not being a teenager but also sometimes people on the internet just say words and i have to look them up on urban dictionary like i’m 90” with a disappointed expression. end id

image 7: image id: a tumblr post edited to look like characters from the ace attorney series are speaking. franziska von karma says “standing next to sunflowers always makes me feel weak like “look at this fucking flower. this flower is taller than i am. this flower is winning and i’m losing.”” with an angry expression. phoenix wright comments “Wow you are not ready to hear about trees” with a thoughtful expression. end id

image 8: image id: a tumblr post edited to look like characters from the ace attorney series are speaking. sebastian debeste says “Thots on the Pope” with a smug expression. miles edgeworth responds “So the pope has thoughts now” with a thoughtful expression. kay faraday comments “crawling all over him like weevils” with a happy expression and justine courtney says “They’re called cardinals I think” with a neutral expression and her gavel extended. end id

image 9: image id: a tumblr post edited to look like characters from the ace attorney series are speaking. pearl fey says “One day I hope I am the girl that walks into a room and all eyes are on her.” with a dejected expression. young trucy wright then says “The trick is to get a really big hat and then scream” with a happy expression. end id

image 10: image id: a tumblr post edited to look like characters from the ace attorney series are speaking. athena cykes says “u ever think about how ur skeleton is always wet” with a thoughtful expression. apollo justice replies “I wish I never had but thanks for ruining my life” with an exasperated expression. trucy wright adds “don ’ t worry ! there will come a time when it ’ s not :)” with a happy expression. apollo says “Thanks! Even worse :)” with a scared and startled expression. end id

[vinestaffery]

CAN WE GET SOME YOUNG B ZUKA X READER HEADCANONS? OR LEAST ZUKA HEADCANONS PLEASEPELASEPLSE

He makes me giddy

b. zuka x gender-neutral reader

content: secret relationship; mentions of trauma(?); mentions of blackrock; comfort scenarios; basically fluff; mentions of harsh training; insomnia themes; alcohol/drunk; i dont know what else to add!

authors note: i am back from my break! a bit slow still at the start but im doing better then before. i hope this fulfills your request!! :) again!! stuff will be slow so please be patient with me as i try to recover from some personal stuff. thankyou!

B. ZUKA , PRESENT

Zuka definitely is hard to impress, especially when it comes to his less expressive personality. With him being more kept close, he does have his moments of making you laugh with his stupid dad jokes; he does these more infront of Rocket to influence that embarrassment.

Rocket has no awareness of you and Zuka's relationship, since you both want to keep it in silence. But, this doesn't stop the interactions between you and Broker because he has a platonic-like for Zuka himself. He adores you though!

Though Zuka won't show it, he absolutely loves you. Adores you even. Something about you unlocked more then what he felt with Rocket, but he wouldn't compare his son against you. He would want to protect you both.

Sometimes he has really bad phantom pains in his amputated limb, so you'd end up massaging it and taking care of it. This embarrasses him but again, he won't show it.

More a listener, not a yapper.

He is a collector though! If he finds something that just shines you in any way, even in the smallest things, he will find himself giving it to you in small packages. It's like a free-surprise toy whenever he treats you things

There are days where Zuka struggles to recognize himself, making situations a bit harder to deal with since he would closet himself, and also shy away from interaction. You understand these, though you yearn for him to communicate, you give him time

It's the same with you, he won't treat you any differently. Need time to just spend with yourself? Go ahead, just make sure to take care of yourself. Need someone just to talk to about how you feel? Go right ahead, he's loud and listening. Just need someone to hold you? Say no more.

Zuka struggles MAJOR insomnia due to nightmares, some of his son and some of you. What if you lose limbs like his son? what happens then? He couldn't be there for him, what changes if it were you? What if you died? He couldn't handle the nightmares anymore. When you didn't live with him, they were horrible that his son started getting concerned.

Now, it just feels more safer. He knows your there, and he may cuddle into your chest. You don't mind, he's a big cuddly bear.

The harsh training he had recieved in Blackrock was enough that he has some scars across his body that paints it in intricate strokes. He gets insecure, but he allows you to see them and let your hands strive through. He doesn't care, your hands comfort the back pain he suffers and calms him down.

Zuka does get drunk, fair warning. There will be times where he may not even be able to understand whats he doing and gets reaaal touchy (romantically). He treats your like that one image where a cat is covered in lipstick and the caption spoke about being excited to see their cat. That's what he does when he sees you.

"Hooneeyyyyy!" Zuka slurred.

You turned to face your drunk-husband, gasping and nearly gagging at the strong alcoholic smell.

"Oooh, my preetty/haandsomeee partner!" He wrapped his hands around your neck, soon pressing his lips against your cheek and neck.

The strong stench of booze made you feel slightly gross.

"Baby, your drunk- please," You muttered, laughing at the ticklish feeling of his chapped lips against your face and neck.

"Buut I need 'ta 'ell mi loooove how much I loooooove them!" His thick accent ripped through his throat as he went to smearing all that he can across you.

You sighed, taking the big ol' grizzily bear up the stairs. He limped, nearly getting you both tumbling down.

It took him aaages to get to sleep. Alcohol really stay awake!

He truly is so lovable, and I'm sure he's panicking how the fuck he got someone like you under his wing.

Also, Rocket found out instantly about you and Zuka's relationship the first time he met you (he knows his father well...)

[nortonluv]

Richard sterling x prince (hunter) reader. I really like the classics 😒. I also think it would be a cute dynamic

Uh, one second while I just- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH.

Alr thank you for your time I'll get to writing now :3 I'm going out on a limb and guessing you want a male reader and not a gender neutral reader, but lmk if you want me to rewrite it for that.

Disobedience.

(Was written before I gained better understanding of his character so he may be ooc)

Masterlist

Warnings: Nothing you wouldn't expect of an Idv fanfic ig. Swearing, Mentions of aggression. (They kinda hate eachother through the first bit but trust the process), Fluff :3

Info: I originally intended to go for headcanons and then short little drabbles.. but ig this is what you get when you're hit with horrific brainrot for one character. [WRITTEN BEFORE HIS OFFICIAL RELEASE, I DONT REMEMBER IF PEOPLE LEAKED HIS ABILITIES SO IM KEEPING THAT DESCRIPTION MINIMAL]

Richard Sterling x Male! Hunter! Prince! Reader

---

This Manor isn't to my liking. Too small. Compact. Nobody listens to me either. Disrespectful little rats. Have they no idea who I am?

Have I really been forgotten by the world that quickly? Surely not. Sister would not have let that happen, I'm sure. Of the entire family, she loved me. She saw me. She saw me as I am, not as the misconceptions they've had of me since the day I was born.

My eyelids finally force themselves open as the curtains of the room I've been placed in are pushed open by an unremarkable face I will likely never remember. Nobody of importance, however, the woman bows and makes a swift exit as she meets my eyes. She had quickly muttered something along the lines of "Breakfast is ready to be served."

Hm. Food didn't seem to even get a rise out of me anymore. The thought having lost its appeal after my incident. Court of fools. Court of shrivelled cocks and frog faced women. Neither appealing yet praised as though they are Gods greatest gifts. Can't even protect their prince from something as simple-minded as poisons in his meals. I suppose I should make an appearance before my "games" today, see who I am to be matched against to begin with.

The newest survivors are often who I am matched with as I am a new hunter. The Lady Nightingale, as I have learned to refer to her as, has insisted that it is the best way for us to adapt to our situation. The Fire Investigator seems particularly taken by the poor burnt Puppet man. Ms Mora, although sometimes able to fool me, often lacks the correct facilities to correctly defend herself against me. However, the role that catches my eye upon the list of survivors I am to play against is The "Knight". A name not seen by the other hunters, according to Mr Desaulnier. He claims to have heard whispers amongst the staff attending to us all but he merely thought it to be just rumours and gossip. Of all the Hunters, Joseph Desaulnier has been the best example of what a friend is in this sort of situation. He has been respectful and taught me the ropes all he asks in return is my reciprocated respect.

My eyes scan over the heads of the survivors currently nearby, all familiar faces in a sense. Although I have not been here long, I am aware of the majority of the survivors present in the manor and their general styles. Nothing out of the ordinary, I suppose.

♡♡♡

I have vague memories of a handful of matches I've played in this place. The Red Church. Lots of walls and the main church building is rather open, often a cipher placed on there making the chase for the survivors slightly harder if they do not get enough distance in time. My goal for this match, however, is not to find my usual survivors. I understand them, I wish to study the new puzzling enigma that is the "Knight".

An odd sort of sight is given to us hunters that allows us to see the machines being worked on. Slight shakes on multiple at once, its only a matter of figuring out which would be best to go to. Church it is. Whoever is there, regardless of it being the one I want or not will likely try to pass off the kite to another as there was a sudden switch of the journalist to the composer. I am more likely to find one of their decoders but one can only hope to be so lucky.

As I make my way to the church an odd figure is there to greet me. He looks up from the machine in shock and takes a defensive stance, this allows me to get a better view of the man. His hair is long and perhaps considered unneat but in a charming sort of way. He wears an outfit that exudes the very concept of nobility to a high level most of my fathers court could not even pull off. His face is angular and a beauty mark sits below his lips to his right side. He regains his composure as he realises I am not here to attack him. The church is quiet as a cipher is finished most likely by the composer in the far corner. Aside from the large popping noise it makes nothing is said between us, not until he decides to open his lips.

"Are you not the one sent to hunt us all? I am I truly so intimidating that you have become incomplete." Stern words, harsh even but it does not bother me as it is the sort of taunting I have received many times through my time. His eyes narrow viciously. Two colours? I would not have noticed had I not taken this time to study him, his left eye a stony blue colour and his right, a deep brown with green tints in both. At this point to have been able to see this I have since gotten closer subconsciously. As though drawn to his prescense. I catch myself before i get too caught up in it all however.

"I am the Prince. Your Prince. Show more respect, if you truly deem yourself to be an honourable knight." He seems to smirk at my title and his confidence only appears to double.

"So a spoiled brat, demanding obedience as though all around are his new pet puppy dogs?" He's trying to get a reaction. His arrogance is almost reflective of my own however he must have a means to be doing this or is it simply for his own pleasure, as my reason had been to observe. "How rude. You are no Prince of mine, not until you prove it. So, shall we dance, Your Grace?"

My composure slips at the words and I feel the angered snear take over my features, my stance becomes more offensive and I begin to hastily move towards the cocky man. "Speak not of being a brat. You're disobedience will get you nowhere but a chair back to the manor."

The chase was not as long as I was expecting, I suppose he truly was arrogant in his abilities today. Time will tell if he masters his skills. A tie was all I could manage with the hinderance the Knights and my initial meeting gave me. I am forever grateful that the Faro Lady believes she can be a rescuer with her ability, a terrorshock is all it takes.

The Knight appears to want to become my antithesis. So that is all he shall be. An idea abstracted from my own and strange.

☆☆☆

- After the first meeting they appear to be forced together through consistent matches against one another or rumors spreading that the two knew eachother prior to the manor.

- False rumors but you suppose it is not completely unreasonable that a prince and a knight, or so his name claims him to be, to be closer than other roles within the manor.

- He says little to others, and when he does it is often sickeningly sweet words. Sugarcoated truths made to seem like the words are kinder than they are just to draw others in.

- few had fallen for it so he had abandoned such a tactic in favour of bothering you in some form.

- be it in matches, his improvement in the way he moves through each map having improved significantly. Easily gliding past obstacles and dodging your skills. A real pest.

- Tension seems to continuously rise with no seeming resolve in sight. That is until one day you walk past the music room.

- Expecting the violinist on the other side of the door as the melody continues on, only to be met with the closed eyes of the Knight as he plays a somber tune.

- You go unnoticed until the end of the song, a smile forming on your face. His eyes flash open as though some otherworldly being made him aware of your presence.

- A silent understanding forms between the two of you. As though no words were ever needed between the two of you, simply because you both understood.

- The tension dissipates within seconds.

- You and the "Knight" seem to find a deeper understanding of eachother over time. He learns of your past and attempts to sympathise with your unjust demise, while he shares stories of his past before the loss of his family.

- He wishes to find his 'sister' but as time passes he finds himself drawn to you, wishing never to leave your side.

- That is exactly what he does. He takes the role of a true Knight that protects his master, although he still has a tongue as sharp as a blade and swift wit that goes completely unmatched by most others in the manor.

- He cannot seem to ever truly listen to your commands, but suppose it is the thought that counts.

---- fin.

OKAY I LOWKEY FELT I WAS WAFFLING ON AND FORGOT WHAT I WAS WRITING, I DIDNT EVEN ADD SOME OF THE STUFF I WANTED TO CAUSE MY TIMES FOR WRITING WERE SO CLUNKY BUT HEY I GOT IT DONE EVENTUALLY!!

(Not proof read, I'll go back and get that done lol)

[simpforwebtoonmen]

Long time no see

A/n: don’t worry, I see ya’ll requests and I will be getting to them 😭

Warnings: not proofread, dumb, might be ooc, I wrote this at 1 am so a lot of it might not make sense lmao

˚✧₊⁎ You were a friend among Daniel’s group in Jae won High. But with recent events, you haven’t seen a lot of your friends in a while. And after so long, Daniel comes to visit you to invite you into his gang. But upon meeting you again after so long, he couldn’t recognize you at all… ⁎⁺˳✧༚

You open the door to reveal Daniel, the smaller one. Though he wasn’t all that small anymore and was definitely thinner, and a lot more muscular. Honestly, you wouldn’t have recognized him if Zoe hadn’t shown you photo’s of him.

You smile and wave at him, “Hey, Daniel!” you greeted. He looked taken back and looked at you confused. He then cleared his throat, “hello…is (name) here?” he asked. “huh? im standing right here…” you deadpanned and pointed at yourself.

Finally, it clicked for him, “oh gosh, (name)!? Is that really you!? I almost didn’t recognize you! Your hair is (shorter/longer) and you have a completely new style!” he exclaimed, almost excited. You flip your hair dramatically, “yeah, I look good, right?” you teased. And despite you joking, he nods in agreement, “yeah, you look really good!”

-

After catching up for a bit, he mentions how you used to be fighter and how he would like you in his team (gang). You said it’d been a while since you fought and that you’d wouldn’t really be that much help, but for some reason Daniel thought otherwise. And with his cute face and nearly begging, you agreed.

And now you stood in front of the rest of the crew members. Most you recognized from school, but there was a certain blonde that you hadn’t recognized.

“Who’s this chick?” Zack questioned, nearly scowling down at you. You almost thought he was looking down at you. It was something he had done before but never did it again after the fact. You smiled up at him, despite his rudeness, with a hint of tease. “What? you don’t recognize me?” you asked him.

It only took the sound of your teasing voice for Zack to know who you were. “(name)!? What the hell, long time no see!” he greeted, throwing an arm over your shoulder. “uh huh,” you simply said, still not letting his past rudeness slide. He then lets you go and sheepishly smiles down at you, “you see (name), about before, you know I wouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did if I had known it was you, right?” nervously rubbed his hands together.

you hummed, “right, well, don’t let it happen again,” you warned, but it was more of a tease than anything. Though, Zack couldn’t tell through his fear, “right right, of course!”

After that you turned to the rest of them, nodding your head, “Vasco, Jay,” you greeted. “Wow, (name). I couldn’t recognize you at all!” Vasco said as he approached you, Jay nodding on agreement. If you were being completely honest, you couldn’t recognize Vasco either. He’d grown buffer, has a beard instead of a mustache, and he cut his hair, plus a few new tattoos. He’s also changed his style into a biker gang type style, along with Jace who you’d only seen recently as well. Jay didn’t change much besides his physique and expensive suits.

And now… you turned to the last person, someone you’ve never seen before. “(Name), this is Hudson. Hudson, (name),” Daniel introduced the two of you, gesturing to each person with his hand. “nice to meet ya!” you smiled. “Yeah…” he responded, keeping his face neutral.

Just then, Zack and Vasco started bantering about who knows what. And when things began to grow my violent, Daniel and Jay had to physically separate them.

Suddenly, Hudson stood next to you and leaned down, “You’ve known them for a long time, right? Were they always like this?” he asked. You nodded, “Yeah, actually I think they were way worse than this,” you nodded as you recalled the memories of all the fights they’d get into with one another.

Though despite not seeing each other for a long time, you were happy to see that not a lot has changed since you last saw them, well, despite their physical and mental improvements, they’re basically the same as they were before. You smiled as you thought to yourself, “it’s good to see everyone like this again. Some things just never change.”

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

hello pmd9, I am interested in hearing your thoughts about monitoring ones media intake, screen time etc .. I've been doing a digital ""fast"" lately that has increased my clarity. I'm coming to realize seeking a more healthy relationship with tech without withering away seems like it will be enduring & lifelong... seems to me there is a need for a digital diet these days and was wondering if you have struck a balance or if this presses you aswell

hello :) my thoughts are that ... its crucial !! to be a little distant

For me it's like. hard to be online as i used to. part of that is surely jst getting /old/ and no longer feeling 'fomo' when i,m offline because Well i've already seen/experienced So much from the online world lol. Sadly nothing can compare to the way the inernet felt to me 10+ yrs ago u_u it doesnt hook me in like it used to, its like building a tolerance to a drug or st

but i still try to be online a little bit and maintain balance by scrolling the dash a few times a day so i dont completely lose touch.. keeping it real tho i usually cant make it past 2-3 mins of scrolling before i lose interest cus yeah idk nothing Hooks me anymore ! This makes me feel like a bad online friend sometimes that im not very active in ppls notes i dont see a lot of things ....... but it is what it is! i just like being irl or thinking in my mind more than being online now unless im Posting

Basically my main reason for staying online is to Post because Posting is fun and engaging. And in that sense the internet is still my most effective portal to the outside world. i feel a responsibility to keep posting. But i also feel more than ever its important to be a little distant & offline, for everyone. U can def have a healthy relationship w social media and use it in benevolent or even just neutral ways when u have strong boundaries !

U must use the website, not let the website use U . . .

This Pochita incident has also been a big dosage of reality-check, like, i want to be present irl even more now, because life is precious and fragile and i want to really know the moment. know every moment vividly & intentionally

But yeah the internet is just neutral to me, it's good as a tool, u must be aware of your limits and able to step away when u feel frustrated or overwhelmed. times when i was REally addicited to the internet i was not enjoying myself. i enjoy it now because i figured out a way to use it that feels personally fulfilling. That method will be different for everyone ^_^

Thanks for the question anon, good luck in maintaining your digital boundaries ~~~PMD9

[defectivefanboy]

Hey there! I’ve read a few of your posts now and I truly enjoy your writing, you’re very good at it ^^

I was wondering if I could request an Alastor x gender neutral reader who is similar to Beetlejuice (personality and power wise). Like, how did he feel about them at first? And how did it progress into more of a relationship.

If not, that’s completely alright! I hope you have a great rest of your day <3

~ 🕷️🕸️

yessir!! this is actually the first time (and second for good measure) that I watched Beetlejuice fully through.

I was wondering if I could request an Alastor x gender neutral reader who is similar to Beetlejuice (personality and power wise). Like, how did he feel about them at first? And how did it progress into more of a relationship.

Overall notes: Stories written on this blog are GN until specified. While this story uses they/them pronouns, and I don't mind female readers on my blog, I do not write for y'all, and if you are a fetishizer fuck off????????????????? ew.

C/W: Cursing, Mentions of Pervertedness, its Beetlejuice, You're canonical Jesus Christ /j, or am I?, Dark humor, Possessive Alastor, Mentions of Bite marks, Dirt ball reader, just reader being gross here and there, nothing too much, youre Beetlejuice, reader has universal rizz

Notes: If you read the C/W warnings it was real late leave me alone. you'll understand when you get there. writing this my mind kept straying and just wanted to write Alastor love because god holy fuck I love him. Im an actual slut for domestic alastor I could write him all day.

The Radio Show...

Oh he's truly interested in you. Not remotely romantic or even platonically, but he is interested (at least at first)

Lets be real quick, he knows hes in hell, but what IN the hell is he looking at.

And what was that outfit you were wearing??? Did you just get out of prison prom???

But your first meeting with him was... interesting to say the least

But then again I think all your interactions are interesting (always more, never less)

But damn. He just had to think the 'sinner' was new to hell and could easily get a quick bite

Poor Alastor really thought the 'sinner' that looked around hell like a lost child as he strolled up with his uncanny smile

Last thing he expected was a jumpy, sporadic, and unfortunately a bit more then a little bit of a pervert.

The record stopped more than a few time at your comments–- Sorry Alastor.

And it had only been a few minutes of meeting you (rip)

And to be honest with you. come here. little closer

He did not know what in all of hell you were trying to pitch to him

He couldn't even get a word in with how fast you talked

And how many voices you did, you basically had a conversation to yourself.

"Ghost can't even scare humans away anymore, pfft. Can't you believe that shit. The last jack offs wouldn't even call me, I had to get some human girl to do it. Is it weird it happened twice? Second time her mom was dead! Gets funnier each time."

Oh?

Humans?

Now you have his interest

And you were able to travel to the human world

"So you're a hell born demon then, correct?" Alastor asked quirking a brow at the questionable individual in front of him, who quickly stopped talking to, well, themselves and snapped their head to him. They seemed to had just gotten here... or gotten back, as their clothes were slightly tussled and their hair was flying everywhere

With a quick dusting of your clothes you straightened your posture. Clearing your throat you spoke in a flat monotone voice. "Well, no actually, uhm, I was born in a manger inside of a barn, my mother, was a virgin and my step father Jospeh was a real piece of work let me tell you that. Died for your sins, y'know, should be thanking me."

This is the first time the radio show had gone radio silent... before he walked away.

Alastor had met a lot of demons, probably killed even more.

Hell he has even put up with that horny spider, but this was the first time he had to take a breather from another sinner? demon? enigma?

But damn it all to hell, he was curious

He had been for so long and he had only interacted with lower hellborn demons.

The occasional Goetia or hell royal would make a public appearance, but that that was all.

Never had he interacted with someone who went from hell to the human world on the daily

The first few meetings he truly tried to keep his distance, keyword tried

But you can only keep a person who teleports around at a distance for some long

Though it to end in you being pushed back by his microphone when you got a bit too close on accident more often then not

But overall he enjoys each of your meetings, enjoy being used loosely

He was more interested in the ever changing world of humans

You only get as knowledgeable of the new world as it comes in, but you have to find them

So having a way to always keep updated he truly enjoyed.

He kinda saw you as, well, while he would say a mole, as you get him information

Not that you honestly realize, you kinda just talk about random shit

He sees you as well, as uh, ahem...

"Quite the squirrelly fellow you are, aren't you?" He quipped with a smile on his face. The both of you walking along one of the many roads of hell as you talked about your latest excursion to the human world. Giving him a confused look you gave him a side eye a you spoke. "Now, what do you mean by that, hm? I don't storage tree nuts in my cheeks, I storage metal nuts in them." Taking your hand you drug into your cheek and pulled out a rusted nut before offering it to him. In which he squatted away with his microphone.

"No."

Alastor in or out of a relationship now seems like the calm one out of the pair whenever you two are together

And he always has a tilt to his head whenever he's with you as if he's always curious about your next move (well bc he honestly is)

Getting into a relationship is simple to him, but not to you.

He had to explain a few times (many times) to you that you two were on a date while out. Thank the lord he has more patience then he let's on

Truly he's only patient with you after learning he'll get no where either way

He tried threatening at one point, but it didn't work when you tried getting him to work for you in the human world.

Spoiler alert: that also didn't work

Alastor did tried to ask you out in a traditional way. Taking you to dinner, albeit at a cannibal restaurant, he really didn't know what you ate

He was disgusted when he found out, almost gagged, had to take a moment for himself

But he tried asking you out in a nice, classy, quiet place.

Spoiler again: didnt work

His question when right over your head.

"Go out? Aren't we already out? What we doing then? How more out do you wanna be? Gotta say though, never been to a place this fancy, must got some walking cash, huh? You know we could start a business together I be the brains, face and you can be..." You droned on as your hand flared around as you spoke. Alastor stared at you as static rumbled from his chest, one eye twitching in annoyance. Sighing he shook his head as he stared with a smile. Maybe you didn't understand what he was asking, or maybe you did. To be honest he doesn't know how much you know, but maybe letting you go on about whatever it is you're planning and get a deal out of you.

Nothing big, just a small pact that you two are "partners."

Cheeky Bastard.

He did tell you eventually someday, he's not heartless

Don't mention that it was after he had convinced you to move in his home (or apartment?? he staying at the hotel?? like??)

But it's another story for getting you to take a shower or a bath.

While Alastor isn't a clean freak or anything he much rather keep his house clean and smell free.

Alastor had quite a few sleepiness nights when you decided to sneak into his bed without a shower.

He almost banned you from the house until you agreed to take a shower after 'work'

now onto the good part

While he doesnt enjoy physical touch from anyone, only part taking in it when he's making someone uncomfortable

He settled on the fact you were gonna keep making every effort to get into his personal space

You only found out he enjoyed having you near him when your items from the guest room you had been staying in were now in his room

Be it having a hand placed on the middle of your back or letting you fiddle with his fingers as you talk

He always finds a way to get a touch in on a daily basis

What can he say? he likes to have a hold on what's his

That's another thing

He's a possessive lover, or person in general but ignore that right now

He just doesn't understand

Why do you have so much rizz

Both sinners and hell born demons seem to love you

And he hates it

Loathes it

If we wanted to get Nsfw real quick

He likes to leave bites and marks on you so even humans know where you belong <3

Going back to sfw

On the outside, beyond the walls of his home. He's well, he's Alastor

Cunning, Cruel, and Evil

But inside? .......Hey Siri, can you domestic a deer?

We already know he enjoys cooking, his mothers recipes are always a hit. He does have to convince you to eat something if it's new.

But he's decently domestic within the comfort of his own walls. As domestic as he can be will a feral dog in his home now. At least you're potty trained, right? Right??

He always enjoyed being alone, especially when he needed a break.

But as weird as it was for the first few months

Going to bed alone in a quiet home, everything neat and orderly was always a treat for the

just to wake up to a god awful mess like a hurricane had hit only the inside of the house.

Thankfully he's unable to fully freak out when he feels the weight of a body laying on him.

Arms wrapped securely in place as he moved around trying to view the full scope of the mess.

The look of defeat only rested on his face for a moment before he was pulled down by striped arms.

"What are staring at, red?..." You said half asleep as you pulled on the back up his shirt collar. "it's still too early to worry about the mess. Come back to bed" He gently shook his head in disgust opening his mouth to speak before getting cut off by a strong pull of his shirt. "I was setting up... sandworm traps. Couldn't't let them get my dearest deer." Alastor gave you a questioning look wanting to ask, but knowing better not too.

Sighing he let himself relax back into the comforter and wrap his arms loosely around as you laid right back on top of him. One of his hands softly treaded through your messy hair causing you to sigh and melt into his body. It was a quiet few moments until he had a passing thought.

"Wait... deer with an A, correct? Correct??"

He wasn't getting an answer from you anytime soon...