#one zombie ended up gaining back some memories and escaping

[daily-cookie-masterson]

i forgot to upload this to tumblr, but i finally made my during-binjpipe cookie lore!!

(huge tw for a lot of stuff, like abuse, murder, drugging, manipulation, and brainwashing)

When Binjpipe happened, it was disguised as a ‘business deal’ to help Jackbox Games Inc. gain for profit and traction. When this happened, Jackbox Games Inc. was only on their 5th party pack, so getting some help from a more successful company would be incredibly helpful. But, Jackbox Games had no idea what was coming for them.

Binjpipe was offered to take over You Don’t Know Jack, and so, their plan was beginning.

First, Binjpipe had taken all of YDKJ’S staff and drugged them beyond belief. This drug would make it so that all employees were not only never able to sleep, but they lacked emotions. They were kinda like zombies.

Cookie was also drugged, but the drug was slightly altered for him. He retained his emotions, but he wasn’t able to sleep like everyone else. If Cookie did try to sleep, Binjpipe would threaten to hurt him, so he hardly ever tried.

Next, Binjpipe did tons of things to Cookie to make sure that he was in ‘best quality’. Cookie is a heavy binge-eater, and Binjpipe hated that. So, they made it so that he was only allowed to eat two meals a day: One before he started hosting and one after he finished hosting. Cookie would end up losing a shit ton of weight from this, making him go from fat to damn near malnourished.

Binjpipe also didn’t like how Cookie needed visual aids like glasses and contacts. They wanted Cookie to be ‘perfect’. So, they put another drug in his body that makes him have perfect 20/10 vision.

They also made Cookie dress more appropriately. They gave him a Binjpipe uniform, a pink dress shirt with dark pink pants and black dress shoes. Cookie hated this uniform, not only because it was way too boring and sleek for his style, but because he had to wear pants unwillingly.

And finally, Cookie was forced to live at Binjpipe’s headquarters. He was allowed to have his cats, but that was really the only thing that kept Cookie from quitting.

Binjpipe put Cookie through hell.

Binjpipe would sometimes murder employees who would demand to go back home so they could see their families, and one time, Cookie had the misfortune of witnessing this.

Cookie broke free from Binjpipe’s control immediately, and made a run for it. If he died, he didn’t want for it to be in this hell hole. But, it didn’t work, because Binjpipe reached her hand out to Cookie’s forehead, resetting him.

Cookie would also just be manipulated by Binjpipe on several occasions. Making him question his existence, making him question his status, forcing him to stay with them for longer.

One time, Cookie ended up not being able to take Binjpipe’s manipulation and abuse anymore, he ends up going to them himself. He ends up having a long argument with them, and Cookie resorts to just fighting with Binpipe physically instead of verbally.

Bad idea.

Binjpipe ended up turning itself into an eldritch monster of sorts, and took out a massive hand with claws and sliced through Cookie’s chest.

For any normal person, they would’ve died. But, for some reason, Cookie survived it! Barely.

Binjpipe was honestly very disappointed to see that Cookie survived. So, she just reset his memory again and dragged him back to his soundbooth.

Oh, and as for the Escape The Simulation episode? What if I told you that Cookie went through it not once, not twice, but too many times to count?

Cookie did have cases of deja vu of this moment, but never fully recognizing it because he’d always lose his memory afterwards.

And Cookie was forced to go through this hell for three years straight. He never caught a break. Even when the later party packs were released, Cookie was still hosting Full Stream.

After three years pass, most Binjpipe employees were freed from their control, due to how unstable their systems are becoming.

But, Cookie is still under their control. Binjpipe always had him as their top priority, so in cases of emergencies, Cookie would be the number one person to protect. (This isn’t a good thing.)

When Cookie left to go start hosting for the day, he couldn’t help but notice that something was… Off.

It was quiet that day. Way too quiet.

Cookie ended up trying to ask Binjpipe about it, but she kept trying to change the subject, which really freaked Cookie the fuck out.

Cookie ended up lashing out at Binjpipe, much to Binjpipe’s shock (and disgust). So, she wrapped him up in giant robot arms and was about to reset him again, but then a loud explosion went throughout the whole building.

Binjpipe ended up dropping Cookie and left so that she could try and see what was going on. Cookie’s legs were limp, which sucked because the whole building was caving in around him. Cookie then saw a bright pink light come directly for her. Before he could react, the light struck him in the back and knocked him out cold.

[separatedway]

ALIAS: ADA WONG

LEGAL NAME: Unknown NICKNAME(S): Ada BIRTH DATE: Unknown date of birth: Estimated Year of Birth: 1974 AGE: 49-50 GENDER/PRONOUNS: Nonbinary, Feminine pronouns (She/Her) ORIENTATION: Aromantic, Bisexual ETHNICITY/NATIONALITY: Chinese-Vietnamese (Unconfirmed) ZODIAC SIGN: Uknown CURRENT RESIDENCE: Mobile EDUCATION: Unknown, but has clear proficiency in Arts, Sciences, and Pentesting. OCCUPATION: Mercenary Spy EYE COLOR: Dark brown. HAIR COLOR: Black. HEIGHT: 5'4" BUILD: Petite, thin. SKIN: Light tan. SKIN MARKINGS: Scarring from Racoon City incidents- a bullet wound on her shoulder, puncture on her thigh, and slash across her abdomen. ADDITIONAL INFORMATION: Ada's right eye is artificial, an experimental implant known as I.R.I.S.

BIOGRAPHY.

Much of Ada's early life is unknown, including to her. The only thing that is certain is that she was born in the year 1974, and had been brought to the USA from Vietnam as a child.

Ada was brought up in a clandestine espionage program within the CIA, where she learned several techniques for infiltration, sabotage, and manipulation. Some of these techniques included triggering depersonalization at will, and the implantation of false memories to align with chosen personas. As such, any memories she has of 'her childhood' as a war orphan, she cannot trust to be anything more than a fabrication.

The alias "Ada Wong" was given to her as a part of her mission to infiltrate Chinese Triads operating within the USA, and abroad. She was implanted with the experimental and unique cybernetic eye, "I.R.I.S" - the Integrated Retinal Imaging System. She gained advantageous positions within the organization, and several connections within the black markets. It was after an incident where her efforts had led to a mass poisoning of undocumented migrant workers that Ada Wong went rogue, pursued by the CIA for lost assets.

By 1996, the independent Ada Wong had secured a position of authority within a Chinese-American gang, and used them to ruthlessly eliminate their competition. The result of this drew the attention of the FBI, which forced the CIA to pull out their operatives as to not jeopardize broader operations, and Ada was able to use this distraction to flee from pursuit for the time being.

In 1997, she was approached by Derek C. Simmons to infiltrate Umbrella for the Family and identify weak points within the corporation's operations to steal valuable research and resources for Simmons' grandiose schemes to maintain a balance of the global order. To this end, she was able to infiltrate the Arklay Lab, where she seduced the head of research, John Clemens.

John was genuinely committed to the relationship, and confided his misgivings about the T-virus and G-virus research in Ada. Ada fed all of the information back to Simmons, and endured Simmons' growing unprofessionalism in their correspondence, growing continuously frustrated with his far-too-personal inquiries, and alluding to 'gifts' for her performance at Arklay.

In May, 1998, a T-virus outbreak occurred in the Arklay Lab, infecting John and leaving Ada very little time to escape both the Zombies that had infiltrated the Lab, and the USS operatives that had orders to contain the outbreak and execute any infected. She was subsequently reassigned to pursue the G-Virus itself at Umbrella's NEST.

That September, she had met Albert Wesker, who knew she was the one responsible for the leaks in the Arklay Lab. Instead of attacking her, he made an offer to her: to deliver a sample of the G-virus to him, since she already was aware of it and in pursuit of it anyway. In exchange, she could have a sanctuary in the Organization he was running, and a secure line of work for years to come.

By October, 1998, she was supposed to meet with a contact of Simmons, Ben Bertolucci who was meant to gain preliminary information for Ada's investigation, but had complications with the outbreak that occurred in Raccoon City, leaving her to her own devices to find an entrance into NEST. She made the acquaintance of Leon Kennedy and decided to use him to further her goals within NEST, once he had proven that he was more of a survivor than she initially thought.

In NEST, she sustained heavy injury as a result of Annette Birkin's interference, nearly being incinerated, stabbed by debris when knocked off a platform, and finally shot when she threatened Leon for possession of the G-virus. She and the sample fell, but she managed to survive and patch her injuries long enough to secure the sample and escape NEST after delivering a rocket launcher to assist Leon's escape from a mutated Super Tyrant.

Ada escaped through the sewers and attempted to meet with a secondary contact in the Apple Inn for her extraction that was arranged by Simmons, but found that the man had already committed suicide. Wesker, keeping track of her movements from afar, gloated about the sad state of affairs over a webcam video. Ada then revealed the sample she had gotten and offered it to him. Impressed with her show of skill, Wesker indicated the hookshot that had been left just in case, and the information that a helicopter would be leaving Raccoon City with an Umbrella information terminal- and that the city was going to be destroyed in a bombing.

Ada left the Apple Inn and fought her way through Zombies, Lickers, and Hunters, making her way to an overpass to get a clear view of the chopper she was to be leaving on. Her departure was delayed by the interference of a Super Tyrant, and she had to defeat it before latching onto the terminal, suffering one last swipe from a Hunter before flying to safety. While on board, unbeknownst to the occupants of that flight, Ada secretly recorded information off the terminal to use as future bargaining chips.

She delivered the G-virus sample to Wesker, and fled to France in pursuit of the G-virus sample that USS Agent Hunk had secured but decided not to pursue the G-virus further, only taking time to heal and recover outside of the USA. When she returned, it was only to break off the deal that she had with Simmons and end all current and future contracts.

Ada debated changing her alias, and shedding the memories of Raccoon City and the conflicting emotions that almost cost her life and job, but was unable to part with the persona. Six years later, she was still going by Ada Wong, and had been taking jobs on behalf of Wesker's Organization. She was dispatched to Spain in 2004.

In 2004, she met with an ex-Umbrella scientist Luis, in a deal for the Amber.

Several complications arose during the job, including encounters with Los Illuminados, her own Plaga infection, Leon Kennedy, and Saddler. Wesker's refusal to be forthcoming with information led her to undermine his efforts several times on the island, including delaying the charges set so that nothing would detonate simultaneously, and assisting Leon Kennedy. She stole both the Amber, and hijacked the helicopter she was riding in to retrieve an injured Luis (@/donserra) and once again become an independent operative.

In 2011, Ada was contacted by an anonymous patron, requesting her presence in the Eastern Slav Republic to reclaim a new dominant species plaga and to cause more disruption in the region.

She took the job with caution, prodding her employer to test their connections, and was able to set up a false identity of a BSAA representative to advise the ESR president, Svetlana Belikova on countering B.O.W.s while also trying to find the lab where the species were being produced. Once again she ran into Leon, and decided to maneuver him and use his natural tendency to her advantage.

Ada's ruse was discovered, she was captured and taken to the hidden lab and met with Leon using him as a distraction for the President's forces, revealing to Leon that the President of the ESR was responsible for B.O.W manufacturing. She was able to escape with a new dominant species plaga, and withheld it from her employer, even when the employer wiped her arrest warrant that was issued by the BSAA.

in 2013, the BSAA was suddenly in pursuit of her again, and she was contacted by Derek C. Simmons, who challenged her to a game of wits, that she was initially uninterested in. Unable to shake her pursuers and left with no choice but to engage, she followed the coordinates given to her to the bottom of the ocean to a downed submarine, and explored the interior, fighting off the new B.O.W species "J'avo". There, after solving puzzles, Ada found orders addressed to her to collect Jake Muller and Sherry Birkin, dated six months before the present time.

Confused at how she didn't remember receiving those orders, she was forced to escape the vessel as J'avo attacked her. She escaped after having to interface over the line with a mysterious woman's voice, and made her way to the next steps of the game in Tall Oaks, after being informed that there would be upcoming terror attacks blamed on her. She came in time to witness an outbreak and made her way through traps set up for her in the catacombs where long-dead corpses had been reanimated through the use of the new viruses. Leon once again crossed paths with her, and she had to assist him and his new partner, Helena Harper, in taking down her mutated sister, who was executed by Simmons.

Once Deborah was defeated, she was once again contacted by Simmons, who urged her to head to the laboratory, where she found a VHS tape labeled, "Happy Birthday Ada Wong." Watching the video, she realized that Simmons had managed to use the C-Virus to create a duplicate of herself, and that the "Simmons" that hired her was merely her double acting as him. To spite the games, she contacted the real Derek to warn him of upcoming events and headed to China where the next attack was scheduled to happen.

While in China, she assisted the efforts of Jake and Sherry, as well as Helena and Leon, before confronting her double, formerly Carla Radames.

After Carla's defeat, she went to aid Leon and Helena in taking down Derek for good.

Once there were no more threats, Ada followed the last trails to the final laboratory, and destroyed everything she found there.

As of presently, Ada is still operating as a free agent, having been declared dead by the BSAA, there are very few that still know that she is an active agent, and conflicting accounts of her presence across the globe have led many to believe that "Ada Wong" is now the alias of multiple individuals hoping to claim some of the fame and notoriety of that agent.

[fiadhaisteach]

31 Days of Dragon Age

Oct 01 - Introduce your Hero of Ferelden

Fenorain “Surana”

Spirit Healer/Arcane Warrior Mage Age: 18-19

'Tis long so, have a cut.

Fenorain came to the Chantry/Circle young enough that she doesn’t really remember her family. She came into her magic early & was kidnapped from her clan to the Circle. She believes her parents were Dalish because of faint memories of green sails and her name. When asked, she said she was called da’fenorain, which simply means ‘little darling’. However, the scribe assumed the diminutive was a stutter, and recorded her name as Fenorain. Her tattoos aren’t vallaslin, but she honestly never thought she’d see the outside world again and they were her small defiance against the Chantry and best attempt from vague memories.

At the time of her Harrowing, and recruitment by Duncan, Fenorain was somewhere around 18 years of age.

She fed the prisoner and healed the Mabari hound. Her dog’s name is Mor'dharlin, or big puppy.

In Lothering, she freed Sten from his cage, recruited him, and later returned his sword to him. She spoke to everyone and completed every task asked of her. Leliana was recruited and later softened/not hardened ((fat lot of good that did anyone. Thanks for nothin’ Justinia)).

After Lothering, they were ambushed by the Crows ((thank you mods)), on the way to Denerim to see if we could deal with Loghain, which obviously didn’t work, but found out about Genitivi & headed to find him, since we knew the Arl was sick, thanks to the knight in Lothering, and he wouldn’t be much help in that state. Recruited Zevran.

She took care of a couple of chanter board things that were on the path, got the ashes, & found out Redcliffe was under siege.

Helped Redcliffe fight and saved the village of Redcliff from zombies. Saved a little boy and returned his sword. Bella got ownership of the Tavern.

After helping the blacksmith’s daughter escape the keep, found all the good stuff happening up there. Let my good friend, Jowan, atone for poisoning the Arl by killing his wife to save his son. 😘 ((I mean if Isolde hadn’t been trying to hide Connor’s magic, Jowan may have found another way into Redcliffe, but she handed it to him on a platter. So, the Ali exiling, Jowan enabling, tart got to sacrifice herself for the greater good. i.e. me not having to go to the Circle before the Brecilian elves & the arcane warrior lesson.))

Speaking of, Fenorain brokered peace between the werewolves and the Elves, by convincing Zathrian to lift the curse, after saving a halla, bringing a couple together, sharing sad news betwixt another couple, and bringing an unconscious elf and some ironbark back to the camp.

She sided with the mages in the tower, of course. Irving lived. Recruited Wynne.         

Zevran stole her heart… eventually. His lighthearted façade didn’t go over well at first.

Acquired Flemeth’s grimoire peacefully & lied to Morrigan about it, then went to retrieve some things from Ostagar and ran across a golem in Honleath on the way. Shale was recruited and the townsfolk were freed from the cellar, with no one possessed.

But we still needed the dwarves to help with the Blight so… off to Orzammar, stopping at this old Warden Keep on the way. Killed a possessed warden but let a questionable one continue with some research as long as he kept it ethical. She also gained a new power by drinking yet another odd concoction.

Beneath the Stone, Fenorain reunited one family, but separated another by helping Dagna to the Circle, and passed on news of a heroic death to a grieving mother. She helped Orta join the assembly and Burkel to create a Chantry. She passed a little lyrium through but also helped the Shaperate by returning a tome and proving the Legion of the Dead was connected to a noble house.

After learning the truth of female warden’s ends in the Deep Roads ((*shudders at broodmothers*)) and defeating Branka, Caridin created a crown, and then he and the Anvil of the Void were destroyed.

Fenorain placed the crown on the head of the hereditary heir, Bhelen Aeducan, secured the dwarves’ assistance, and recruited Oghren.

Everyone headed back to Denerim to finally deal with Loghain. Fenorain reunited Alistair with his sister, Goldanna, after forcing him to agree to co-rule with Anora and executing her father. Also took care of a bunch of other stuff while in town, including cleaning out a possessed orphanage, running a slaver out of town, dealing with Leliana’s stuff, and others.

Shortly before the battle of Denerim, Alistair was convinced to perform a ritual with Morrigan, which allowed Fenorain to slay the Archdemon and survive.

Alistair and Anora awarded the Wardens Amaranthine Arling, which Fenorain, as Warden Commander, took great care of. She recruited the former Arl’s son and put in many upgrades to the Keep, saving both the Keep and the City from being overrun by the Mother’s forces, though Fenorain killed the Architect too.

Fenorain later hears tale of a companion thought lost and hunts her down only to let her go again, still on friendly terms, but with a little more closure.

[orioncarnell]

Don't got time for feeling sad for yourself when you're trying to survive.

Orion could almost hear his father's voice, gruff and sharp. It was one of the lessons that had been practically beaten into him because it was one of the most important. It had been one of the hardest too, but Orion was glad for it. He had seen people die because they got caught up in emotions and became reckless. Instead, it was as if Orion had been drained - all of his feelings pulled down into the crevices of his subconscious. All that was left were his thoughts, organized, sharp and precise like an arrowhead. It allowed him to focus on getting done what needed to be done. And when Isaac called out, slight panic in his voice, Orion didn't hesitate to jump into action.

He hadn't strayed too far from the hole in his search, so he was there in a matter of seconds. Orion took a moment to assess the situation. Isaac was pressed against the wall, bat in hand but not enough space to properly maneuver. The girl was getting to her feet, guttural, inhuman growls escaping from her gaping mouth. Tristan - no, not Tristan anymore - was bucking on the ground with a surprising ferocity, snapping at the air.

Orion crouched and jumped, landing in the pit with a squelching thud. The sound was enough for the girl to turn her attention towards him as she scrambled in the mud. She couldn't have been turned long ago - a few days at most. Aside from the pallid complexion and her dead-fish eyes, she looked almost alive.

It took two bullets. The girl was still moving, twisting as she pushed back to her feet, so the first shot only hit her shoulder. She didn't even seem to notice as she gained a foothold and made her first, triumphant step. Orion shot again, this time hitting his target. The girl dropped face first into the mud. Her body twitched, as if her nerves hadn't quite caught up with the body's death.

Orion never hesitated in killing walkers. Hell, he didn't even hesitate with people when it came down to it. But looking at the figures of the two closest friends he had since he had left the farm, something broke. A crack, enough to throw him off his walker-killing routine. When he stepped up to Isaac and Tristan, he didn't put his gun to Tristan's temple to pull the trigger. Instead, he grabbed Isaac's wrist, pulling him to his feet with a tug strong enough to make the older man stumble against his chest. Pulling him out of their writhing companions reach before letting go of him.

"Did you get bit?" Orion asked, holding Isaac at arms length by his shoulders, voice calm and collected despite the fact that Tristan's body was right there, snarling and struggling. But it seemed he had gotten there in time. A small sense of relief, quickly washed away by what he knew had to happen.

"They turned him. They threw him down here to turn him. To turn others, too." If the girl was any indication at least. This was supposed to be some kind of zombie creating pit. The cult, nothing more than a note in Orion's mind, disregarding the memory of sunface-girl, had killed their friend, turned him. Orion breathed in deeply, to calm and ground himself. He needed to focus.

"We have to end him."

The Sunfacers. The fucking demented Sunface cult they hadn't barely even had time to know existed had done this, they'd murdered Tristan --

(for one brief moment Ike had a hammerstrike to the heart: was this what had happened to Ginny, for real, had it been the Sunfacers? had there been a chance for him to prevent it if he'd impressed on Sol and Ginny that this was an actual threat, that they could run across the shitheads and their shithead doctrine and suffer for it and was that why Ginny was gone and Sol was--)

No. No, that was the work of a freak accident that had one positive outcome in the form of Cass' brother. This had nothing positive to it, Ike thought as he and Orion stood leaned heavily against each other, looking at that crown tattoo just like theirs down in the pit.

Orion was stunned, Ike could feel it in the rigidity of the other man's body, but he was already tracking past that and back into problem-solving mode. That was a concerning ability of Orion's but it was also, simultaneously, what made him such an effective raider, so Ike hadn't addressed it yet. He'd get there. Hopefully before it became too calcified an issue for him to chip away at.

And then -- another spanner in the works. Ike saw the movement at the same time as Orion, but he didn't say it out loud; Orion giving voice to it and saying that Ike needed to get into the pit, assess the situation, that made Tristan's movement a solid thing. A fact, unavoidable. It meant Ike had to get into the pit. Anything else would disrupt what he and Orion had when they were working a job, what any pair of raiders had: the assurance that the other one would be there for them no matter what happened.

So Ike had to be there for Tristan, in order to be there for Orion. Despite his increasing misgivings about this situation.

"Fuck me," Ike muttered under his breath, then clapped Orion on the shoulder to send him on his way and soft-lobbed his bat down into the pit. It was muddy at the bottom, probably to remove any purchase its inhabitants had to climb out, and Ike crouched down at the lip of the pit and slung himself in as well.

Tristan stirred even more when Ike landed, and Ike approached cautiously. "Aw, christ," he said, stopping and staring in disconsolate, dull realization when Tristan turned onto his side. His blank, filmy eyes staring with all the vibrant green leached out of them, his teeth chattering on empty air. "They put you down here to turn. I'm so fuckin' sorry you died alone, man."

Ike had retrieved his bat, but he didn't want to use that to dispatch his friend. He reached for the knife he had holstered to his thigh and said, "I'm gonna take care of you, okay? I'm not gonna leave you like this--"

He stepped forward. Or at least, he tried to; the mud was thicker than he'd expected, mixed in with old brick dust to form something more cementitious than straight-up mud; it sucked at Ike's boot, refusing to let go when he took a step with his other foot, and as Tristan made an unexpectedly adept lunge towards Ike's ankle it all happened fast. He tried to dodge, twisted himself up and lost his balance thanks to the stuck boot, and ate shit. Crashing against the side of the pit with his shoulder and scraping all the way down to hit the pit floor as well as Tristan's legs.

The girl moved. She wasn't alive, either.

"Orion!" Ike bawled, grasping his bat. He'd managed to hang on to that, though he'd lost the knife on his way down. "If you don't wanna be the last one standing with that tattoo, you better fuckin get here fast!"

[uselesssomebody]

𝕤𝕝𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 - stiles stilinski x reader

complete masterlist | teen wolf masterlist

“𝕚 𝕔𝕒�� 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕣 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕤 𝕝𝕚𝕜𝕖 𝕒 𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕠𝕕𝕪

𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕟 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕥𝕒𝕝𝕜 𝕨𝕙𝕖𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦’𝕣𝕖 𝕗𝕒𝕤𝕥 𝕒𝕤𝕝𝕖𝕖𝕡” - telepatia | kali uchis

words || 𝟚.𝟡𝕜

summary || in which stiles has managed to expose a deep secret to the reader while sleeptalking

a/n || i didn’t even know what i was writing for this - like a solid 70% is pure waffle, it’s actually unbelievable. also super sleepy right now so ignore the incoherence (??) of this ➵ originally called ‘telepatia’

warnings || fluff

“by the way - thought i should tell you - you got number 3 on your history test horrifically wrong.” i took a sip of my coke, one i paid way too much for at the cafeteria, “like, it’s actually jarring how badly you fucked up. like - napoleon? wasn’t the test about the russian revoluti-?”

“okay - jeez!” his eyes widened - a signature move of his annoyance. “how’d you even know about that? i don’t remember…” he trailed off, trying to clear up his already foggy (and slightly sleep-deprived) brain to pull the specific memory of him telling me about his quiz. of course, there was no memory.

“god, what do i tell you every time you ask me that? i’m a-”

“yeah, yeah, ‘you’re a mind-reader’ or whatever.” he followed my earlier movement, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked up his beverage through a straw, before turning to look at me, “but - seriously.” i wiggled my eyebrows - ignoring his request - making him simultaneously groan and laugh at the stupid gesture, and causing me to join him.

of course, as accustomed as we had become to the supernatural, i’d never met an actual mind-reader. well, except for derek and scott’s neck-puncture thing. that shit looks unbearable, though - for both parties.

off topic. oops. as i was saying - i’m not a mind-reader. though, i’m sure stiles is convinced i am by now. he’d been baffled for the past couple months, confused out of his mind as to how i seemed to know so many tricky details about his life - especially ones that he never remembered sharing with me.

every time he’d ask, i’d make a joke. he’d usually scoff in response, but i could tell that it was always a gnawing thought at the back of his brain.

i promised myself that i’d tell him sooner or later. i was just having a bit too much fun as of now. the real reason i know is because, as of the last two months, stiles’s gained the unfortunate habit of sleep talking.

the first time i realized, i nearly screamed. i knew he’d always ended up nodding off while we were clambering through a mountain of homework, or while we were tracking some of his dad’s cases, or when we were researching an unbelievably niche topic for scott and our never-ending supernatural dilemmas.

his cheek squished into the book he was supposed to be reading, his hair tousled and his mouth slightly ajar. i smiled to myself, appreciating the downright adorable sight, before turning to try to continue the task at hand - vowing to wake him up before his dad came back.

i was intently focusing on the text in front of me, trying to absorb everything my eyes were taking in - as they fought their own battle against exhaustion. a yawn threatened to slip through my lips when i heard it.

his initial sleepy noises mumblings had faded to the background - nothing too unusual - but then, it became louder. a lot louder. his voice was, in hindsight, a clear murmur, but, in the piercing silence of the house, it felt like a foghorn in my ears.

the yawn, which i’d given up fighting, already had me opening my mouth - and when i heard him speaking, a strangled squeak escaped me instead, cutting my yawn short. he adjusted on the table slightly, managing to squish his face further into the book, yet he remained in his state of deep sleep.

his incoherent mumblings consisted of three topics in the span of 10 minutes: alphas, derek being a possible zombie-vampire-werewolf hybrid and complaints about isaac’s signature scarf. his mouth moved at an almost erratic rate. dare i say it, his sleeping self gave conscious, never-shuts-up, awake stiles a run for his fucking money. i listened intently, almost in tears of laughter at how stupid his tired ramblings were. due to it, i totally missed the sheriff’s car pulling up to the house. the sound of the slamming front door jolted stiles awake, and his eyes immediately met mine.

he rubbed his eyes, groaning quietly.

“you should’ve woken me up.” his voice was hoarse, adding to the slight annoyance laced in his tone. i stifled my chuckle - opting for a smile instead.

“y’looked cute.” i dragged out the last word, laughing when he rolled his eyes.

the poor guy never had an inkling as to what was happening. he’d nod off almost every time i came over, and he’d give me a whole speech - a rant about something or the other, usually.

a similar situation graced me again on a dark tuesday evening. the cold had us both rushing through his front door - as much as he loved it, his jeep’s heating system had died a couple centuries ago.

i laughed when i watched him flop onto the small twin bed, making myself comfortable on the floor at the foot of it. i quickly chucked my history textbook at him - his had been damaged, along with the rest of his schoolbag, at a shockingly non-threatening encounter with peter. of course, i don’t think his books could say the same. he let the thing flop beside him, before making a show of turning and lying on his back, resting his head at a crooked angle on the headboard that made me cringe lightly. he rested the book between his hands and stomach, breathing a sigh of annoyance at the prospect of work. stretching my legs out, i grabbed my notebook - filled to the brim with quick notes and dates - ready to revise.

20 minutes had passed when i heard his familiar mumbling. grinning, i continued reading, curious as to what i’d hear this time. an autobiography? a rant? the possibilities were endless.

my breath stilled a little when i realized the first discernible word out of his mouth was a little too recognizable. he said it again, his breathy mutter making it a little less audible, but i already knew what he was saying.

he’d started saying my name. i closed my book, intent in hearing what his exact thoughts on me were. i smiled to myself, assuming it’d be about some stupid shit i pulled in biology, or us chiding isaac together, or about this ‘mind-reader’ shit i’d pull on him whenever he got too curious.

“exactly, yeah.” his voice is more animated than usual. my eyes widen at the realization that he was probably dreaming, “no, scott - ‘f course not.” he’s quiet, his breathing not matching well with his intonation. he must’ve been talking to scott, in this - as of right then - boring dream of his, “y’don’t geddit,” the huff that comes out with the statement proves his never-ending annoyance at scott, even while in dreamland, “think i’m in love with her.”

my head snaps back to look at him, his peaceful nature completely contrasting my look of shock. my mind raced: excited to bother the shit out of him as soon as he woke up, and ready to find out exactly who he was talking about.

a smaller, more hopeful part of my brain knew the answer already, though.

his breath hitches, as he turns to his side, adjusting to become more comfortable, “y/n…” he breathes my name in a content sigh, “damn, i am in love.” he manages to separate each word with long breaths in between them. after another couple moments of silence, soft snores drift to my ears.

in a state of shock, i clutch my notebook in my hands, the textbook totally forgotten as it lay directly on stiles’s side, and tiptoed out of the room.

the front door threatened to bang shut, as it always does, but i managed to close it quietly enough behind me. the cold air of the somehow even darker night bit into my cheeks. i gripped my notebook even more tightly, feeling the spirals pressing against my skin, as i trudged the short distance to my house.

“hey, where’d you go yesterday?” i had whipped towards my class as soon as i noticed his familiar blue flannel, but - evidently - i’d been too late. begrudgingly, i turn back, smiling way too widely to look natural.

it wasn’t like i was avoiding him - ‘course not. it was just awkward to look him in the eyes after hearing what i’d heard. didn’t help, of course, that i had no idea how to react.

this was stiles - like we’ve-been-friends-since-elementary-school stiles. and sure, he’s gorgeous now, but that didn’t really change our history. and, what if something went wrong? i’d grown so accustomed to him, i couldn’t imagine a world where we were uncomfortable around each other.

obviously, i’m a hypocrite, because i was being awkward and uncomfortable around him right now.

“oh - yeah, i just thought that i’d get home. have my own bed and room, y’know?” his eyes narrow, and he cocks his head slightly. i gulp, worried he’d seen through the lie.

“are you sure ‘bout that? i’m not really sure if you do-” my tension’s relieved by his sarcastic comment. i let out a breathy giggle, before using my free hand to swat at him.

“hey, shut up.” he pushes my hand away, forming a smile of his own.

“yeah, whatever - see you later? whad’ya got after this?” i roll my eyes.

“it’s been 4 months, you know damn well we both have math.” a look of realization crosses him, and he nods.

“great, i’ll see you then, i guess.”

“yeah, see you.” i wave at him, disappearing through my classroom door.

a couple days of this semi-awkward conversation followed. it reminded me of the process of getting to know a new person. in my defense, it was honestly like i was. it was hard to see him as the same stiles as i had known for so long. and, the more i thought about it, the more i realized i didn’t really mind it. it was almost embarrassing the amount of times i’d caught myself thinking about us like that - as more than friends.

worse was, as much as i love to joke about how dumb stiles can be, he’d managed to be perceptive enough to notice this newfound distance between us. he had the restraint to keep from commenting for a few days, but that man’s curiosity has found no obstacle so far - and i don’t believe it ever will.

he’d cornered me while i was in his jeep - he’d offered to give me a ride, and i’d hesitantly agreed. as soon as he turned left on the intersection, i knew he was taking me the long way back - which took almost triple the time that the ride should take.

i remembered the first time we’d gone down that route, dead set on staying out and enjoying each other’s company for longer. the jeep still had functioning seat belts, a significantly less duct-taped engine and barely any chipped paint. good times.

he cleared his throat, eyes still glued to the road in front of him.

“so, you doing okay?” his question doesn’t catch me off guard, but i purposefully cock my head, hoping to give the impression it did.

“yeah, why’d you ask?” i can hear the faint sound of his tongue clicking. he doesn’t want to say it - trying to save me from the awkward apology - but i knew that he knew that i was lying.

“you sure?” he draws out the sentence - effectively giving me a chance to try again. i let out a deep sigh, becoming deeply invested in the threads of the sweater i had on.

“i - uh-” a nervous laugh stretches my cheeks slightly, “i have a confession.”

“really?” i don’t have to look at him to know one of his eyebrows are quirked, his mouth hung slightly open.

“yeah, um- really, it’s stupid - but i…” i take a pause, collecting my thoughts, “i lied - i’m not exactly a mind-reader.” a snort comes from him, causing me to finally look up.

“wow, you don’t say.” i laugh too.

“shut up! but seriously. the real reason i know all that shit is ‘cause i- d’ya know you sleep talk?” i blurt it out, hoping that the quick burst makes it easier to have the conversation.

he splutters, and the jeep jerks lightly, rocking the both of us, “i what?” his eyes are wide, as he tries to read my expression while simultaneously watching the road. luckily, there aren’t any cars around while he failed at his multitasking attempt. deciding he didn’t want to worry about both things at once, he puts our conversation on hold as he hastily pulls into a parking lot, about 50 meters from where we were originally.

as soon as he finishes, he makes it a point to face his whole body towards me, his tall figure draped somewhat awkwardly in the small space. i decide to mirror him, lifting one of my legs so my thigh is sprawled sideways on the seat. i tuck my foot underneath me, showing the same amount of attention to the threads of my jeans as i did to my sweater. he looks at me pointedly, silently telling me to answer his question.

“yeah, i guess you sleep talk.” i shrug my shoulders, unsure of how else to say it.

“you’ve heard me sleep talk?” i nod slowly, before smiling to myself.

“yeah, you know how much you rant about stuff? it’s actually jarring - i know you like to complain but sleepy you is on another level-” a sigh of shock and relief interrupts me.

“oh, this is great. why didn’t you tell me?”

“i dunno - it was like listening to a podcast, great nighttime entertainment.” i give him a toothy grin when i realize he wasn’t nearly as annoyed as he seemed initially.

“yeah, i’m sure.” he hollows his cheeks, blowing out and placing a hand on his head, elbow resting on the small ledge under the window of the car door on his side. it looked almost cinematic - something out of a cheesy drama, “so, that’s all you heard, me ranting about things in my sleep?” i exhale, knowing that i’d have to tell him now - or i wouldn’t get another good chance.

“um - no, not exactly.”

“hmm? what d’you mean?”

“i - you were sort of dreaming, and you were sorta telling scott that you were in love with someone?”

“someone?” i roll my eyes.

“oh, for fucks sake. in your dream, you told scott that you were in love with me.” the sentence comes out too fast for it to be fully understood, but the last word was clear as day.

“you?” the sound of confusion laced in stiles’s tone sends a pang of sadness through my chest. did i really fuck up, and look way too into a stupid dream he had?

“well, you said my name, so i assumed that…”

“fuck.” stiles didn’t swear too often, so his statement shocked me enough to look at him. he had his hand over his mouth, cupping the frown he sported underneath it.

“i- i’m sorry if i assumed something, like if you were talking about someone else, i just-” stiles stopped my rambling by placing his hand on my leg. he gives it a squeeze of reassurance, and lets out a shaky breath.

“you- look, you didn’t assume anything. i - uh, i wanted to tell you soon, i was just thinking of a good time to do it. i was going to a couple days ago, but you started acting kinda weird, so i decided that maybe i should hold off.” his explanation rattles out of his mouth - but with much more clarity than my own ramblings. my eyes widen as i truly register his words.

there’s a silence. it’s unusual, sitting in silence with stiles. the air was thick with tension, both of us reeling from the information that the other had provided. he ends it by clearing his throat.

“you gotta say something, y/n.” i force myself to look at him, and his own gaze is soft, but wanting.

“i, uh, i guess that…” i pause, thinking of what to say, before groaning and squeezing my eyes shut, “dammit, stiles! you know how bad i wanna say yes, and have something like - like, real? like scott and allison? but i fucking can’t, ‘cause what if we don’t work out? i can’t fucking lose you over something stupid like a break-up!” i keep my eyes shut, too nervous to look at him after what i’d said.

“you - you wouldn’t lose me.” his voice is soft. my eyes open slowly, but i can’t look at him.

“you don’t know that.” my own voice comes out hoarse.

“no, i don’t. but it eats me up inside every time i have to look at you - whenever you say something stupid, or you laugh, or do some other cute shit.” he pauses, his breaths accounting for the otherwise silence in the car. “will you just - can i…” he doesn’t finish, opting instead to bring his large hand to my face and rest it over my cheek and jaw. his face moves closer to mine tentatively.

a loud, incessant part of my brain was screaming, telling me to think about what deal i’d be sealing. but, in that moment, i realized.

i closed the gap between us, placing my lips on his and revelling in his soft touch.

there was not a fucking chance i was letting go of him.

[shijiujun]

I’m here with a zombie apocalypse (think Resident Evil level) + ABO danmei! I’m not usually a fan of ABOs tbh and I picked up this book for the zombie part and was surprised by the ABO part, but this one was a good nice balance between both. Surviving the zombie apocalypse still takes centre stage while the ABO part is more of a subplot/backdrop, but it’s cool all the same haha

Written by the author who wrote Swallowing the Sea (Tun Hai) & Breaking the Clouds (Po Yun)!

- Part of Min’s ‘Why You Should Read’ Series -

Summary:

In a world that has been overrun by a virus that turns people into zombies, Si Nan wakes up with no memory of who he is and what he’s doing in this rescue camp, only that he’s an omega that is scheduled to be air-lifted out of an affected zone to a safe sanctuary, where omegas are prized individuals meant to be protected so they can give birth and contribute to a new population, which has been decimated with attacking zombies globally. 

He’s not sure who he is and what he was supposed to be doing, but his instincts tell him to not go along with these people, and he flees into the crowd of attacking zombies. Much to everyone’s surprise, he has strong combat abilities (despite being an omega) and manages to escape from the team and also the zombies.

He chances upon Zhou Rong, Captain of the 118 Retrieval Special Unit and his team during another zombie attack in a nearby city, and joins them out after his escape route is blocked. Si Nan hides his omega scent with suppressants he finds in a supermarket, and unbeknownst to him, he has actually met Zhou Rong before when they were both much younger in a different setting, before zombies were even a thing. Zhou Rong leads a team of beta soldiers, which die one after the other as they flee, leaving the team down to its last bullet and six members.

Si Nan decides to follow them for a while, and due to his skilled fighting prowess, he gains the trust of this team and the civilians they’re protecting. Zhou Rong also takes a liking to him, and so does another team member Yan Hao, while Si Nan mistakenly thinks that Zhou Rong and Yan Hao are a couple together instead. As they flee from one city to another trying to get back to the 118 base, they realize the situation and virus is worser than they thought. They have to fight to survive while also figure out who Si Nan is, and why he’s a wanted individual by authorities from another country.

*A pretty accurate representation of a zombie apocalypse I have to say, I had Resident Evil flashbacks when I was reading this, people start dying right off the bat, but nothing hurts more than 2ha so I only teared up at minor character deaths

Read:

Novel (Online) | Novel (Print) - December 2020 Print | Novel Translations 

Characters:

1. 司南 Si Nan - Amazing pouty and fierce mix-blood blond-haired omega who has amnesia and doesn’t even know his own name. He sees some product in a convenience store where he meets Zhou Rong for the first time that has the words 司南 on it and decides that his name for now. Combat specialist and can take out a lot of zombies just on his own - he’s also immune to the zombie virus but they don’t know this until much later. He doesn’t go with the shady troop that rescued him initially, but with Zhou Rong because he’s intrigued by how brash and kind and a bit dumb this Captain is. Masquerades as a beta with the help of suppressants

He has a stepbrother (an alpha) who tortured him for many years due to Si Nan’s special condition and the mystery surrounding his childhood with his scientist mother and dead-but-terribly-revived father. Said stepbrother also wants to mate with him because he ‘loves’ him but is just insane af. 

Si Nan actually met Zhou Rong when they were much younger before this whole zombie thing came along, and Si Nan actually pretended to be a helpless participant of the competition they were in and lets Zhou Rong help him, only to steal away the prize at the very last moment. He liked Zhou Rong a lot then, but due to him being taken hostage technically by his stepbrother and also his allegiance to a Western state (he’s mixed blood, stepbrother is American-ish) they were unable to be together. 

He’s compassionate, but doesn’t show mercy to anyone who doesn’t deserve it. Like Zhou Rong, he wants to save everyone they possibly can, but they’re not dumb enough to think they can save everyone. As he travels with Zhou Rong and his team and other civilians, he starts to remember little things about himself and is caught by his stepbrother again midway through the novel, and just as he despairs that no one will ever save a monster like him, Zhou Rong turns up to do just that.

2. 周戎 Zhou Rong - Extremely confident, brash but handsome and strategic alpha Captain of the 118 unit, a special unit which was sent out a few months prior to the start of the book to clear out regions of civilians, but they lose touch with a major city and headquarters, and are forced to find ways to return to big HQ amidst unusual bursts of zombie attacks and a new strain of zombies who were infected without being bitten. Masquerades as a beta, like the rest of his team.

He loses a lot of his team along the way, and has to carry the burden of killing them before they turn at their requests, and also promising to find their families and take care of them for his dead team members. He wants to save everyone, but also knows that with dwindling supply to food, medicine etc. they can only choose their battles along the way. 

Takes a huge liking to strong Si Nan, unknowing that he’s the boy he met and fell in love with when they were younger. Because of the competition then, despite Si Nan winning over him, he decides to openly court Si Nan after the competition, and brings flowers to go see him, only to see Si Nan being given a temporary claiming bite on the back of his neck by another man (the stepbrother). Dejected and devastated, his first budding love kind of ended there, and from then on he openly disses omegas as he thinks that Si Nan basically seduced him to deceive him, and that all the affection they shared during the days of the competition in the wild were fake.

After the truth about Si Nan is out, he does a 180 hahahaha, and Si Nan forgives him XD 

3. 颜豪 Yan Hao - Another alpha-hiding-as-a-beta team member of Zhou Rong’s unit. After Si Nan saves him twice, he falls in love with Si Nan, not knowing that Si Nan thinks that Zhou Rong and himself are together. His feelings after are known to Si Nan, but Zhou Rong and he openly (and hilariously) fight for Si Nan’s affections. Zhou Rong is way more direct than Yan Hao is though, and Si Nan obviously likes Zhou Rong much more than he does Yan Hao, so naturally he was kicked out of the competition hahaha. He’s very sporting about it though!

Other Things I Like in the Novel:

Zhou Rong calls himself Rong-ge, asks everyone to call him that, he takes on the brotherly protector role in the team and amongst the civilians he rescued - Tells Si Nan to call for Rong-ge whenever he’s in danger and he’ll turn up - So there’s a part where Si Nan is bombarded with his memories while he’s about to be kidnapped by his stepbrother and also chased down by incoming hordes of zombies, and he yells out for Rong-ge, and Rong-ge really turns up ;-;

Si Nan is pouty and glowering all the time, a bit cold and aloof at other times, but he’s always drawn to Zhou Rong’s warmth

After they confirm their feelings for each other and spend his heat together, they are literally inseparable, like forever holding hands and looking out for each other like they go from flirty at 20% to 200% as a couple midway through the novel

Si Nan kicks ass, all the time! He’s super good at fighting

Zhou Rong promises to get Si Nan a huge rock as an engagement ring but he spends all his check on the families of his dead team members at the end of the novel, and Si Nan teases him, “So what are you going to use to afford my ring now huh?” Also, they’re just recovering from the zombie apocalypse so the commercialisation of marriages will once again have to wait, but Zhou Rong literally does turn up with a bigass ridiculous diamond ring (from where they raided a diamond ring story during a mission) and presents it to him

Yan Hao always teases Si Nan for how he thought him and Zhou Rong were together, because both men are always rough-housing and fighting like actual brothers than lovers XD

Yan Hao tells Zhou Rong that they should compete fairly for SI Nan’s affections, and Zhou Rong rolls his eyes and grabs Si Nan over and kisses him full on on the lips while Yan Hao splutters in defeat

The novel depicts deaths and helplessness really, really well. LIke seriously, I almost couldn’t finish it but it’s actually a pretty nice novel that doesn’t focus entirely on the doom and gloom of the apocalypse

[postal-ech]

You know what actually, fuck it, I'll post a story I've still got bouncing around in my deteriorating memory banks from my time spent in Space Station 14

So, before they removed the Senior positions for department, I played myself as Senior Researcher Richard Osterweis - who I generally play as a slightly unhinged, mad science loving shitlord that just likes to do his job.

One round of Space Station 14 had me as a Head Revolutionary - or Head Rev, for short - and the Research Director had not arrived yet.

Now, to explain a revolutionary role, the goal of a Head Rev is to essentially convert the entire station to your side, and kill off the station heads - Research Director, Station Engineer, Quartermaster, Chief Medical Officer, the Head of Security, Head of Personnel, and the Captain respectively - and take over with your band of underpaid coworkers

So, looking slick as ever after i converted all of science into rebellious nerds, I decided the best course of action was to become the new RD

Went off without a hitch, HoP gave me the access, gained access to RD's fancy suit and everything

Everything was going according to plan and thr station was being stealthily changed into a revolutionary filled one

And then suddenly the actual RD showed up

Imagine Solid Snake coming in late on the job while Liquid snake was busy trying to do his job

It was that, except it was Solid RD and Liquid RD, and there could only be one RD

So there we were, us boys trying to figure out how to off the RD

I decided to say fuck it and convert a salvage worker in front of him, and he was now surrounded by about 4 or 5 other revolutionaries while I was just standing there, shrugging like nothing happened

That's when they ganged up on him and beat the metric shit outta him

However as it turns out they didn't gib the RD, so he was revived and promptly ratted me out

But for some GOD DAMN reason he decided to try and take me on again with a baseball bat

Needless to say me and a friendly mime decided to end his career for good, and stuff the remains in a crate

At this point I'm flipping shit, Security is suspicious of my activities, they're gonna storm the research department any second from now and I'm boned

So I bail on the poor nerds while I try to find an escape route, thinking it was all over

BOY WAS I WRONG

cause as it turned out a surviving salvage member found a lone nuclear operative shuttle, and I hopped on that ship faster than you could say "get me the fu-fu-FUCK outta here." And the funniest part was that this salvager wasn't a revolutionary yet

That was quickly remedied

As it turned out this shuttle had access to the announcement comms so I figured "fuck it, the jig is up, REVOLUTION NOW BAYBEE"

Didn't have access, which was sad

But then the salvager found a spare ID, which immediately allowed me to confirm the announcement

As it also turned out and I didn't realize it at the time between me panicking over my inevitable arrest and finding this shuttle, a zombie outbreak had occurred and took up all of security's attention

So combined with the active revolution and needless to say it was just JOEVER for everyone not a revolutionary

Unfortunately my plans did not involve dying with the other revs, so me and the salvager stayed behind on the station, sitting back in the bridge sipping martinis

while the rest of the poor guys got gunned down at Central Command

And that was the story of Richard Osterweis taking over R&D and chaos just falling in place afterwards

I have found a gem here while killing time at work

There is something just fascinating about learning the history of this god-forsaken clown-tier space station roleplaying game.

It's also fascinating learning about some of the other stuff it crosses with, like did you know there was once a LISA content creator named SpaceHippie (aka AdmiralHippie, Scruffy the Janitor, etc) that owned his own server which incorporated LISA: The Painful stuff? You could play as a syndicate operative who learned the ways of the Armstrong Style. That just sounds fun as shit.

Sadly, that doesn't exist anymore. I hope SpaceHippie is doing well out there.

But yeah, give the short documentary a look when you guys can

Also check out Space Station 14 when you can, its just Space Station 13 but on an improved engine that won't make you feel like you're playing on the world's most unstable game

And also, go ahead and share some stories of your time with these games, if any of you have any stories on hand. Always fun to spin a yarn on this shitpost of a game.

EDIT: Okay I also need to add onto this, it is absolutely fucking wild that SS13 had the likes of the YOGSCAST and FACEPUNCH make their own servers as well. This game is just truly something else.

HONK!

[fichohiddenpowers]

It lives in the woods: Chapters 13-16

It’s here guys! Time to see the last chapters.

We start with homecoming going to hell and all of us trying to escape. We get a neat axe and got out of school. Stacy’s mom tries to get her but we encourage Stacy to stad up for herself. And then more monsters attack us. Oh but what are we seeing?! Connor saving us with his car. He gets injured but he’s okay. We go to the hospital since Mr. Red, who is free and has kidnapped Andy by the way, might be going after Dan. But when we arrived, there is no one there. Dammit, now the group feels bad. Mc pep talks them to gain a little bit of courage and we all go to the shed to arm ourselves. And our pets are here to support us yay! But more problems arrive: Mr. Red’s victims, incluiding Dan, are mindless zombies!

We go to the woods to face Mr. Red. But then monsters attack us and we are separeted. And zombie Dan is attacking Mc! Fortunately, with the power of friendship, we get Dan back and talk to him a little bit about his problems to get him ready to beat Mr. Red for good. And one by one, we rescue our friends. We get a message from Connor saying that everyon is okay, but Jocelyn is hurt for protecting us. And when we find Andy, zombie Tom is there! Power of friendship activated! Tom is now ok! Oh and we found Noah! But monsters are surrounding the gang and we need to enter the ruins. Wait...

NOAH YOU BACKSTABING TRAITOR! AND REDFIELD IS JANE!? So yeah, Jane is actually in Redfield’s place and the ritual didn’t work because our own ritual is the “Are you scared game”. Oops. Noah explains how he knew and didn’t tell us. Oh Noah... now we have to survive. But with the power of courage (and the mod), all of us say “I’M NOT SCARED”, which makes Jane angry lol. She then tells Noah to kil us. Bitch! If we’re gonna play like that then time to blow your whistle! I mean it as in Jane’s whistle that we gave her. And it seems to work! Jane is back to her true self and we need to make a choice...

And I decided to sacrifice Noah. I know some of the fandom decided to sacrifice Mc, but personally, I feel like Noah needs to redeem himself after what he’s done. (And I can’t wait to see what the within chapter will have in store for him).

We all survived and one year later, things change. Mc is in college, Lilly has a new girlfriend, Andy has to repeat the year but with a bang, Lucas takes his time, Stacy is cool with her family and Ava continues Cora’s work. And the memorial began and we say goodbye to Noah and Cora. But a video of the gang as little kids might get everyone more excited.

And Noah, as the monster, wanders in the woods, trying to find himself. A sad ending...

...or is it?

Thank you @itlivesproject! Can’t wait for the it lives beneath replay!

[quidfree]

prompt: tdbk in a post-apocalyptic setting (HEHEH)

self-servicing AND a helping hand to a friend in need, we love a good strat

this got incredibly out of hand but i hope you enjoy!!

--

it’s been two months and five days since he last saw someone that katsuki lays eyes on him. two months and five days, and yes, he is fucking keeping score, why wouldn’t he be?

two months and five days is long. two months and five days is long enough that he’s taken up the habit of muttering to himself to fill the air, because dead silence makes him paranoid, always expecting sudden interruption, and he chooses to ignore the fact that muttering to himself is a quirk he might have picked up elsewhere. jesus. if deku, scrawny and asthmatic and perennially, psychotically self-sacrificing, is somehow still alive, he thinks he might be glad to see him again, just out of sheer disbelief.

there’s other people he’d be glad to see. perfect timing, for the zombie apocalypse to erupt right when he’d been on a summer internship in tokyo. to think the old crone had been bitching about it before he’d left- don’t get mugged on the underground, all that shit. like he was some hare-brained tourist. like people didn’t expect him to mug them. whatever. he thinks his parents are safer, out in a smaller city, than anyone has been in tokyo, tells himself it’s not blind hope that makes him explain the radio silence away. it’s statistics, and the geography of the outbreak, and the memory of his mother beating a would-be pickpocket over the head with her shoe until he passed out.

six months ago he’d first walked into his cramped rental flat in tokyo, barely the space to unroll his mat. six days later the pandemic had begun. slowly, first, confusingly, two weeks of shadowing jeanist to court and back while the news got increasingly weirder, and then by the third things took a turn for the fucked, and his parents were calling frantically telling him to come home stat, but by then it was too late. tokyo’s the new york of japan- in sci-fi movies it’s always struck first. the city was on lockdown before he could so much as book a flight out.

that was five months ago. by four and a half his phone carrier service had gone dead.

he doesn’t like to linger on anything, but he especially doesn’t like to linger on what happened between the start and the middle of it, the slow descent from incomprehending disbelief into hell on earth. he doesn’t throw the term around- not one for flowery prose. for the first while there’d been something almost rewarding to it, the whole survival strategy, him and the interns and lawyers at jeanist’s office taking scope of their resources and planning their ways out. now it’s been two months and five days since he’s run into anyone alive, he fails to see the bright side.

the media called them the infected, or the walkers, or some other dumb shit, but everyone knows they’re zombies. it’s some kind of chemical weapon- americans, if you ask him- that’s mutated them, but they’re zombies by anyone’s definition. lumbering, decaying, dead, very keen on extending the invitation. the first time he’d seen one up close- whatever. he’d killed it. he’s killed so many by now he’s lost count, and that’s not an exaggeration. these days he’s not so big on those.

the office had been overrun, in the end. some of the other interns, panicking. bitten. dead. jeanist had held them off while katsuki dragged hysterical staffers out of the window, and the last he’s seen of the man he was catching his unflappable gaze as the doors burst open and jeanist slammed the window shut.

they’d scattered. maybe he would have stayed on, tried the group thing out of a sense of responsibility alone, but there were too many subgroups for him to rotate around. he’d split off, eventually, cut his losses. sometimes he catches someone he recognises walking the streets, wonders when and how and what. he’s still never seen jeanist. he thinks probably he offed himself.

if it ever comes to it that’s what he’s doing. he has a gun ready for it. one bullet. in the apartment he’d stayed in for a while, some forensic doctor’s place, he’d studied the angle that worked best. straight through the temples, angled down.

then there had been that thing with the league. he doesn’t want to think about that, but he does, constantly, because that’s how he knows. two months and five days. the last person he spoke to was that fucking girl.

like zombies weren’t enough- criminals who fancy themselves cultists roam the streets in packs. it’s like every shitty blockbuster movie he’s never bothered to see packed into one.

two months. five days. there’s no way of communicating with the outside world. after he’d shaken off the league he’d had jack shit on him- lost his bag in the initial fight, and his apartment was a lost cause. in the end he’d made his way back to the firm, but that had been a literal dead end too. he’d managed to retrieve, of all things, his phone, skirting the streets around the firm, probably dropped in their original escape. it’s functionally useless but he’s managed to charge it once or twice, stare at old photos and texts that fail to send. he has nothing else of his own except the clothes he’d worn that last day with jeanist.

he’s remade his belongings, obviously. he’s competent, as it turns out, in apocalypses. somehow it doesn’t surprise him. he works out a routine. when he’d first found a hole to burrow himself in post-league he’d spent days just picking up patterns- when, who, from where, how. once he was entirely sure he’d gotten it down to a science he’d risked it back out, mapping the area out incrementally, one rotation at a time. two months and five days in he has it down to an art instead.

he moved regularly for the first month post-league, avoiding anywhere that seemed inhabited by zombies and people alike. can’t trust anyone, and besides it’s way too much of a liability having other people around to get themselves bitten. he can look after himself, but he’s not signing up for charity work. by the second month he’d found his current address, the top floor of a mid-rise apartment complex in meguro city. apartment complexes are risky, but this one’s door locks are still functional, and once he’d cleared out the ground floor and made the rounds to check for stragglers he’d wagered it about as secure as it could get. the stairs are a bitch, but the zombies don’t like them either, preferring to straggle in lobbies, and for another thing the height is convenient. the roof’s close by for a way out, and it gives him a good view of the surroundings.

the apartment itself is nothing special. residential. he picked the cleanest one, which also meant the one half-moved out in a hurry. he pretends like he thinks the owners got out but he spotted a suitcase with their name abandoned in the elevator. the guy was a teacher at the university. the woman was in sales. it’s decent for a tokyo flat, two bedrooms, a bathroom, good kitchen, nice living area. the fridge had been full of expired goods, but the shelves had some cans in them- soup, rice, beans. pots and pans. he’s been working through the floors of the place one room at a time taking inventory, lugging the useful shit back up. nothing beyond the strictly practical- he takes food, medecine, clothes, someone’s watch once, binoculars. he’s not making a home for himself, just stocking up. he sleeps with his bag on his back, the essentials locked and loaded. the gun was an apartment find too.

his biggest problem is transport. he recognised this early on, because so could anyone with half a brain. tokyo’s teeming with public transports overrun by the undead, cars abandoned on the streets, but the actual streets are packed day in and day out. whatever movie said zombies hate the sun was full of shit, because as far as he can tell the only time they actually react to the weather is when it rains. all night and day they’re shuffling in tireless motions around the city, gaining numbers. there’s a rhythm to it, sure- they’re more sluggish at night- but it’s an incessant flow. he can’t drive a car, has found no convenient manual stored nearby, and google went and croaked on him when the electricity did, so there’s no way he can just take advantage of a lull and jump in. by the time he’s figured out how to get any given vehicle to start he’ll be surrounded. even if he could find a way in, there’s no way out- driving through streets packed with zombies is a doomed exercise, especially given that half of the cars in the city are busted or low on fuel.

his current plan involves boats. he’s not sure if zombies can swim yet, but they don’t like the rain so he’s betting no, and even if they do they’d fare no better than a human at climbing a boat from the waters below it. if he can make it to tokyo bay somehow- at least off the coast there’ll be room to manoeuvre. but he needs to figure out the basics of ship-operating first, and also to relocate his supplies nearer to the bay somehow. if he ends up on the open seas he’ll need the food to last him the journey.

so he’s been doing this. rounds, collecting shit. taking inventory. scoping the streets out. he spends the nights planning, the early mornings reading. there’s no power in the building. it’s freezing. six months since his internship, winter rolling in. if he gets to tokyo bay the waters will be frigid, but the sea doesn’t freeze over.

his biggest concern at the moment is hypothermia, if he’s being honest. he’s collected every fucking duvet in the building, it feels like, but there’s only so much he can bury himself under. he’d be warmer if he didn’t insist on bathing in melted snow, but he went so long without washing in autumn that he fucking refuses to waste the opportunity. he smells like some ridiculous apple berry blast bullshit because he’s cycling through shampoos, but sometimes he thinks he’s only sane when he’s brushing his teeth in the mornings so he’s not about to let up on the hygiene.

three and a half months ago he was meant to be back at school. he has no idea what’s happened to his classmates. most of them were home for the summer. he thinks yaoyorozu was abroad. lucky her. kirishima was the last he heard from, all suppressed terror, and even now it makes him feel sick to think about it, because he knows full well the asshole was scared for him. sometimes he thinks about what it would have been like facing this shit as a group, but he never dwells on it. he’s better off alone.

he’s cold. he’s tired. he needs to get to the nearest library, because no one in the building has shit about boats. he doesn’t want to leave the building yet, but he needs a book. can’t go into this shit blind, not without knowing what he’ll need once he gets there. and besides he needs to stay sharp on the streets- get back into the swing of it, literally. one month since he moved in and he’s barely seen a zombie in the rotting flesh. the doors have been holding up, and he’s far up enough that none of the regulars outside can smell him, decide to unionize and break the door down.

he’s had an assortment of weapons, since the start of this. most effective was the gun, also a heavy chair once. his trusty hockey stick had snapped on his way into the building, a month ago, leaving him to fend the last three tenants off with goldfish bowls and doors to the neck. he’s found a sturdy baseball bat since that he’s claimed as new weapon of choice, though never used. he takes this, when he goes. the bat, the backpack that never leaves his back, the longest coat he can find in his collection. not the heaviest, despite the biting cold, because that restrains movement, but the longest, to minimize contact. hat and gloves for the same reason. balaklava just for the cold.

the apartment is empty as he winds his way down, footsteps loud, and it’s dusk- just late enough that the zombies are slower, though not late enough that it really makes a difference. it’s be too dark if it were; he’s trying to save flashlights for real emergencies.

the setagaya library is the only actual library near him, as the maps inform him, but too far to risk. in the address book he finds a local bookshop three blocks away, and it’s there that he heads, already cold to the bone as he grits his teeth and locks the complex door assiduously behind him. there are zombies just across the street beginning to moan in his direction. he ignores them, breaking into a jog.

maybe because their blood doesn’t flow to their brains, maybe because their muscles are deteriorating: zombies aren’t incredibly fast or incredibly intelligent. what they are is resilient, and single-minded. but outrun them and outsmart them he can, and so he does- runs the paths he’s memorized, sticks to corners and shadows and scales ladders and crosses rooftops and just about manages to get to the street in question without even having to swing his bat.

once he gets there, though, he gets swinging. the bookshop is in an unfortunate position, and there’s an entire group parked in front of it. he lets them spot him first, so they break off in his direction, then climbs onto the overturned truck they’ve shifted to and springs back down into the doorframe of the bookshop, kicking the door in before they can register his itinerary. he slams it shut just before a greying hand scratches at it in outrage, heart pounding a steady tattoo, then glances around rapidly. no sign of life, but that means nothing.

there is, then, an unmistakable jingling sound from the very back corner of the room, behind rows and rows of antique-looking books. keys, or metal on metal. movement.

company, katsuki thinks, between anticipation and trepidation. his bat sits comfortably in his hands as he raises it.

jingling, closer, and he moves in on instinct, breathing feeling loud as he brushes past the anthropology section. he can just about see around the corner when a sudden sixth sense makes him whip around, bat swinging down heavily, and just in the nick of time- wood connects with metal, hard, knocking him back a pace as his teeth snap together from the impact, but he’s swinging again in self-defense just as there’s a sharp intake of breath and his brain catches up- red, white, painfully familiar. the bat makes an aborted spasm.

“bakugou,” shouto todoroki says, in disbelieving tones, crowbar lowered but not dropped. katsuki gapes.

“am i fucking hallucinating?”

the crowbar lowers further.

it is him, unmistakably. maybe with someone else he would have hesitated longer, but todoroki's hard not to single out. his red-white hair is tousled, long behind his ears like he's absently tucked it and forgotten about it, and he's grimy, smells sour and dusty, but it's him. katsuki's own hands stay gripped around the bat, their gazes playing some odd symmetrical game as they catalogue each other for the same exact thing- looking for bite-marks. todoroki's less covered than katsuki is, but there's blood on him, old, dried. too old for recent bites, anyways. inconclusive.

"what are you doing in-" todoroki starts, maybe having concluded that there's no way to assess his status with the layers he has on, but then his frown twists. "oh. your internship?"

which answers katsuki's own question, sort of, because now that he thinks of it enji was on that high-profile murder case in the high court. still- still, his brain is stuck on the incongruity of it, shouto todoroki in the apparently living flesh, and it's been two months and five days. he just keeps staring.

"i came for a book," is what leaves his lips, eventually, rough, and his voice sounds hoarse with disuse. it jars him into action, moving past todoroki on auto-pilot, because somehow he can't quite register his presence, doesn't know where to begin. he wasn't factoring this into his day.

it's dark inside, books hard to discern, so he gets his flashlight out, hits it against a shelf so it alights. there's a section on travel near the back. nautical travels of the eastern seas. useless. a map book of the japanese seas- maybe. he mechanically slides it into his bag. his fingers feel rigid. he's still cold. what the fuck is shouto todoroki doing holed up in a bookstore? where is his father? how long has he been here? what is he doing, alive, talking, walking, in the apocalypse, ambling into katsuki's routine with a crowbar in hand?

he can't see or hear him at all. now he's back here he can tell the ringing was rigged up- tiny trap-wires set around the store, what looks like fishing wire with bells attached. smart. of course it is. he's losing his mind. where has the bastard gone? is he even here? it's fucking freezing in the bookstore. where does he sleep? he hadn't looked starving. actually he hadn't looked anything- just blank as usual, barring the surprise. fuck! he's been staring at the same book for a good thirty seconds without registering the title.

beginner's guide to boating. miraculous. he nearly breaks todoroki's kneecaps when he sees his legs appear silently next to him.

"fuck! don't sneak up on me, you asshole!"

"boats," todoroki says. "that's your plan?"

it makes him flare hot with something like rage, because he doesn't fucking want input on it, doesn't want to be told odds, and it has him on his feet, slamming todoroki back into the opposite bookshelf within seconds.

"mind your own damn business!"

todoroki seems mildly startled at best, shifting a little so a book isn't digging into his neck, and for a moment katsuki is distracted by the scalding warmth of him under his arm. he doesn't know when he last came into contact with a living body. it's disorienting. he thinks probably it was the senior partner who fell down the stairs, minutes before the zombies swarmed the lobby, pulse skittering frantically with fear.

he drops todoroki, steps back. two months five days. maybe he's gone a little crazy.

whatever! whatever. he's fully functioning, he has his book, he's leaving. he's going to be off-schedule at this rate, times gone muddy with distraction. even without touching him he feels like there's residue warmth on his palm, making the rest of him shiver by contrast. if the zombies could have just gotten properly active in summer...

he's halfway to the door when he remembers- again- todoroki is actually there, watching him inscrutably from the bookshelf, swaying a little on his feet. despite himself he turns to stare back. he doesn't know what to- this wasn't in the plan, he doesn't know. he's going anyways.

it's because he's staring-cum-glaring at todoroki that he sees his eyes widen, and then he's leaping forwards on instinct as the window in the door shatters, decaying arm bursting through as loud moaning suddenly fills the dead silence.

"shit!"

"it's because there's two of us," todoroki reasons, in a tone like he's annoyed with himself for not realising this, which would make katsuki feel marginally better about his own stupid lack of thought if he wasn't so pissed. he'd counted on the zombies losing interest on his presence once he was out of sight, but the smell of two live humans in close proximity would obviously keep some of them near.

"is there another way out of this place?"

"back entrance, but it leads into a dead-end alley," todoroki retorts, suddenly functioning, eyeing the creaking door as thumping intensifies from the other side. "there's a way to scale onto the drain-pipe above but it wasn't made to take two people's weight."

"shit," katsuki curses, feelingly. "where's the drain-pipe lead?"

"roof. i don't know if either of us could scale it fast enough for the other to follow before they get there."

katsuki looks at him, crouched calmly stacking something or other into a loose duffel bag, rusty crowbar by his feet, then looks back to the groaning door. his gut tightens with a sort of pissed off fatalism.

"how long 'd it take you to get to the roof? five minutes?"

"i could do it in three, maybe less," todoroki estimates. "it's slower with the frost."

three minutes. katsuki hoists the bat higher, takes a step then two back from the door.

"fine. go. i'll follow."

"bakugou-"

"it's the most logical fucking plan of action," katsuki snaps, eyes still on the door, adrenaline spiking. "if you get up there before i get outside i can make it to the drainpipe before anyone nabs me. i can hold them off for three fucking minutes. and you're the one who knows the way up. you go."

"i know," todoroki says, which makes katsuki glance back at him, finds his face set with nothing but fixed determination. "i was going to say to give me your bag. it'll make it easier to climb."

there's something about this that makes katsuki's head briefly thud with something like a pounding headache, lungs gone tight, but he refocuses, blinks away the dizzy spell. the last fucking thing he wants is to give the bag away, but unless the plan goes as hoped he's dead anyways, so there's no point in arguing.

he shrugs his backpack off, slides the gun out, shoves it into his back pocket. todoroki fastens the straps around his shoulders without comment, then turns and runs, not wasting any time. it makes something in him-

the door breaks in.

there's five of them at least, the ones from before. the first one goes down with a direct hit to the head, skull caving in with a crunching sound, but he has to retreat immediately, make them spread out of their pack formation as he zig-zags back through the rows of books. they're slower than humans but not slow, breaking into a fast paced shuffle after him; he turns a sharp corner, doubles back as fast as he can to catch a second one from behind. crack, snap. the one in front lunges back before he can swing again, sending him running back; he jumps onto the seller's counter, dodging an arm, then brings the bat down full-force onto the zombie's neck. three. there's another one nearing the broken door, the other two circling back to the front at the commotion. he jumps over the counter, ducking under an arm, knocks into the nearest bookshelf with all of his weight, sending it sprawling towards the door, books flying and frame landing awkwardly across the doorframe. it doesn't block entry, but it befuddles the would-be incomers.

there's an arm grabbing his shoulder; he dodges a gaping mouth, bat spinning to hit at the rotting jaw, once, twice, bones splintering decisively on the second hit, but the last straggler is on him and the others are crawling in through the door. he runs, down to the back of the store, nearly trips over todoroki's traps himself as he goes, miraculously jumps clean of them as his pursuers stumble. it gives him the seconds to jump up to the back portion of the shop, grab a nearby chair and throw it at the advancing huddle, knocking them back a step, then turn sharply into a row, sprinting down to the back of the room where the emergency exit sign hangs half-broken. it's closed, likely behind todoroki, but he slams through it before any of the zombies near, staggers at the sharp gust of cold air that hits once he's out. the sun is nearly set, casting a red haze over the alley, and there's a pack of six zombies right beneath the glinting drainpipe, still trailing after todoroki's scent, moaning around the corner signalling backup. fuck.

there's a loud scraping from above, then todoroki's head appears over the edge of the roof, something grey and unwieldy in his hands; a satellite dish comes falling down, catching speed as it goes. it hits the pack dead-centre, crushing two of the zombies into pieces on impact, others reeling backwards in confusion, and he doesn't have the time to question his odds four-on-one. he runs in while they're still dazed, beats one into the wall, head splattering, turns and swings into the second as it zeroes in on him, head collapsing inward and drenching him in blood. the other two are too close to hit; he twists, jumps back, curses, eyes the alley entry where others have scented blood. fucking- no, two on one, god, he's not dying two on one, not after the bullshit he's been through. he kicks heavily into the one's chest, just missing the hand trying to nab his ankle, which sends it knocking into the other, and like that they're just aligned enough that he yells and slams the bat through the first one's head, in three rapid blows, hitting the one behind it on the third as bits of skull go flying. it's not enough to take it out; he hits again, manic, and it gets him on the second go. then he's scrambling to the drain pipe, mindful of the others closing in, shoves his bat down the back of his shirt and under his waistband before he throws himself at the drainpipe.

"brace against the wall," todoroki calls, almost in the moment he does so, hands slip-sliding on the damp pipe as his boots hit concrete; there are arms nearing, outstretched, but he bunches his stomach and drags himself up, feet first then arms, side of his arm scraping heavily against the wall as he moves almost horizontally upwards, fingers clenched around metal. the fucking gloves are no help; he pauses, braced and shaking with tension, to rip his gloves off with his teeth, one hand then the next, dropping to the floor below as his bare palms hit the freezing metal.

he's so cold it hurts, but he's halfway up the wall. methodically he moves. one foot. other foot. one hand. other hand. stomach muscles, straining, arms pulling. up a fraction. then another. then another.

"wait," todoroki says, closer than he feels, and he glances up for the first time, finds him an arm and a half's length away. "you'll slide at the top."

"then what the fuck do you suggest i do?" katsuki bites, half a yell, too strained to scream. todoroki leans, heavy, arms outstretched.

"do one more. then take my hand."

katsuki wishes he could spit on him. todoroki's expression has gone tight like he knows what he's thinking, like he's not sure katsuki won't let himself fall all the way down rather than put himself into the uncalloused hands of shouto todoroki.

the pipe creaks. katsuki moves up, ignores the way his blood boils, eyes the outstretched hands. he can hear todoroki breathing, hot against the cold air.

"drop me and i'll turn you."

he braces. one hand leaves the pipe, and for a godawful moment he's grasping at nothing. their hands connect, rearrange themselves; todoroki has a death-like grip on his wrist. his foot slides. the second hand is thrown rather than extended, and todoroki's eyes flash alarmingly as their fingers brush and miss, but he doesn't fall, hangs there by an arm for a heartbeat, jolt like he's dislocated his shoulder before his boot catches something and he shoves upwards, todoroki grabbing hold of his hand and yanking full-body at him.

katsuki falls over the top of the roof in disjointed movements, the both of them half-hitting each other as momentum carries them down, lands with an elbow in todoroki's stomach and a hit of tile to the jaw.

his head spins; he shoves up immediately, falls back down when his arms protest, adrenaline pounding hysterically. his limbs are shaking with belated exertion. todoroki is still holding his wrists, punishingly tight, his breaths heavy nearby. his body is still hot beneath him.

he scrabbles backwards, onto his knees, todoroki dropping his hands and dragging himself up to his elbows. for a moment they stare at each other, panting loudly.

he wants to yell at him but the words don't come. two months, five days. it's not even todoroki's fault, really. he was living there unperturbed. there's a flush of exertion over his cheeks now, and maybe he's just gone crazy what with the constant thinking about unbeating hearts but he feels a little obsessively interested in the visible flow of blood beneath his skin, wants him pink all over if that'll prove him living a minute longer.

he shakes himself, exhales in a burst.

"are you all right?" todoroki asks, and up close katsuki realises his voice is hoarser too. in the shop he'd been too dumbstruck to register it, but it's there beneath his normal cadence, a scratchy undertone. he hasn't spoken in a while either. something about it-

all right, he'd asked. unbitten, he means. katsuki shakes his head.

"we need to get going."

he hadn't meant the 'we', but he thinks at some point when todoroki's fingers dug into his arm hard enough to pierce flesh the message had gotten under his skin too. they're not fucking splitting up now. of course they're not. this isn't model un or a baseball match; it doesn't matter that the guy drives him insane. and this is todoroki, too- excruciatingly hyper-competent at every challenge life throws at him. if there's anyone less likely to rely on katsuki for the next however-long until one of them is forced to shoot the other, he hasn't met them.

"where?"

"my place. 's not far. how d'you get down from here?"

"the next building over has a fire-escape."

"fine. let's go then."

todoroki hands him back his backpack. he hits his bat against the wall to shake some bits of bone and flesh off, eyes unfocused on the task. he thinks desensitisation is the word. it's maybe the third or fourth time he's fought them off without registering anything about them once. usually he gets stuck on some detail or other, schoolgirl shirt or smile wrinkles. freckles. proof of life. there's that movie he watched once with kirishima and the rest of them, some kind of sci-fic thing, and at the end when the monsters come the dad shoots his whole family dead to spare them. turns out it's the military instead, come to rescue them. kirishima had cried.

questions pile up in his throat. he forces them down.

they jump from the rooftop to the next with relative ease, the gap narrow, his foot just catching on the edge before he rights himself. the fire escape is solid where the drain pipe wasn't. he wonders how in the fuck todoroki ended up here, in some old bookstore.

he's gotten good at scaling shit. he thinks in another life he'd have made a top-grade gymnast, or a superhero. when he'd broken out of the league's hold he'd made a spiderman worthy leap onto a clothes-line.

they make it back to the apartment as the sun vanishes, late, and because they're late his perfect scheduling is off, leaves them facing a pack of easily a dozen zombies swarming around the doors. there's another way in through the side, but it requires forcing a door open that he doesn't have keys for, and that means an entry-risk.

"i'll clear a way to the door," he says, hoisting his bat higher. "you keep them off my back."

todoroki follows his gaze, nods.

they advance in the dark, close together, and it's bizarre having someone breathing down his neck after so long, makes him on edge, expecting a bite that never comes. when the first zombie starts turning their way he breaks into a run, brings the bat down fast and heavy so it connects with a sick thud, flashlight clicking to life where he holds it between his teeth. it blinds one zombie long enough that he gets it too, and then it's chaos, flashlight swinging drunkenly as he batters this way and that, fighting off the clawing arms with irate kicks and loud swearing. if there's one thing he fucking loathes about the apocalypse it's how touchy-feely everyone is, all endlessly grasping hands and drooling maws straining for a piece of him. it makes his skin crawl, which makes him see red, which makes him go through fights like this, all furious movement, too keyed up to feel afraid. he never goes into a fight expecting to lose.

behind him, around him, wet crunching and moans track todoroki closing the pack; in off-beat synchronisation they move their way through the group, dropping bodies as they go. he's by the door before he knows it, light catching the heavy glass, switches the bat to one hand as he drags out the keys. the first time he'd gotten in the door had been open; his luckiest find since was the functioning key, sealing him out of harm's way. he's efficient with it, no fumbling, has it in and open in the time todoroki exhales sort of shortly as their backs connect. bakugou yanks the key out in the same movement he grabs blindly at todoroki's collar with his bat-holding hand, hooking a finger to swing him through the door and diving after him to slam the door shut on a wrist, bone snapping and the hand falling limply to the floor as they put their weight on the door for as long as it takes him to lock it again.

todoroki's crowbar is sopping red, guts in his hair; he casts a look around, doesn't even ask if katsuki thinks the door will hold, if katsuki has thought of their scent luring zombies in. most people would have.

he has, obviously. thought of it. that's why he lives on the top floor. the scent doesn't linger. doesn't matter if there's two of them up there. the door holds for as long as the stragglers press up against it, but as soon as they're out of sight the zombies will drift again.

they make their way up the stairs. he's warmer now, purely from the exercise. heat rises. another reason he lives at the top. doesn't feel like it when he's freezing his ass off at night, but he knows his science.

they make it to the top floor in silence, and he pushes his door open (unlocked, this one, because by the point anyone reaches him up here he'll be long gone), goes for the camping lamp on the floor, trudges along with it in hand. remembers his houseguest.

"kitchen's there. there's a bathroom. two rooms. living room. no power or running water but i have some water in the bathtub if you want to wash."

"it's nice," todoroki says, and the worst thing is he sounds like he means it, almost politely. it makes katsuki stop dead to look at him, struck again by how unreal it all feels, but it almost feels reassuringly normal, staring at todoroki in disbelief. in the bad lighting he looks otherworldly, even despite the filth and zombie gunk he's covered in, all half-lit and angelic like something out of a hazy dream.

"i can't fucking believe it's actually you, half 'n half."

it escapes him unthinkingly, but it's true, and besides that it has the unforeseen consequence of making todoroki's composure fracture, shoulders rising and falling on a mute laugh, exhausted wryness in the tilt of his head. for a split second his gaze is dizzyingly and uncharacteristically frank, almost intimate.

"the feeling is mutual."

if the moment stretches he might do something wholly deranged; he rolls his aching shoulder, gestures to the bathroom.

"you go first. you reek."

todoroki says his thanks to his back as he retreats.

he returns to routine. strips, despite how fucking cold he is, wraps his shoulder tight enough that it hurts, rubs alcohol onto the more worrying cuts and scrapes. drags some bedding to the second room, then drags himself to the kitchen, shivering, mentally redoing his maths, then pulling out his notebook to jot down the edited stock. pauses, hesitates. in the margin under the date he writes: found half 'n half. it's not a diary, but he feels like he should make note.

todoroki appears silently in the doorframe, wrapped in a towel and scrubbed red, and there's something reassuring about how clean he looks, balanced out by how disturbing it is to see him so casually bare. he's barely glanced up at him that he drops the towel.

"the fuck-"

todoroki just turns in a neat 360, then wraps himself back up. katsuki snaps his jaw shut, ears burning but head clear. no bites. right. the previous times- whatever. reluctantly he stands and turns. when todoroki eyes his boxers he glares.

"you don't think you would have noticed if i got bitten on the dick today?"

he's not entirely sure todoroki won't fight him on it, but he concedes after a moment's assessing stare, shifts from foot to foot.

"you can have some of my shit to wear," katsuki says, pointing to the wardrobe he's requisitioned. "some of it's too big. should fit."

todoroki just nods, follows suit.

he wonders, as he scrubs himself down with a bucketful of water, teeth chattering and bath-tub still half full, if todoroki was always so goddamn quiet or if he's traumatised or some shit. the guy was always the annoying silent type, but he doesn't remember him this monosyllabic. habit, probably. what does he know.

he dresses, layers up, shoves his dirty clothes with todoroki's in the basket. when it fills he'll dunk the whole lot into a tub of his used water, but until there's that many dirty clothes he leaves them out.

todoroki is sat on the couch wrapped in blankets and wearing someone's dad's heavy knitwear, illuminated by (of all things) a gas lamp that katsuki had found but never managed to light. so the asshole has matches.

"you hungry?" katsuki asks, really only to make him speak. todoroki nods, counter-productively, but he's talking next.

"don't waste your food on me."

"shut up, asshole," katsuki mutters, on instinct, fatigue setting into him. jesus. the martyrs he's surrounded with. "you can make the next grocery run."

todoroki only looks at him longly, but he follows him into the kitchen, eats the cold soup without complaint. he likes cold food, katsuki thinks, then stops at the thought. he has no idea how he knows it. it feels like a memory from a different life. he likes cold food. like that matters.

it's not very late, though it's pitch black out. he goes to bed early these days to make the most of the sunlight. he's not sure what to do with todoroki, though rationally that's not his concern.

he can't find it in himself to ask the obvious questions. it's partly because he doesn't want to hear the answers and partly because he doesn't want to have to give his own. it's not like they were fucking bosom buddies before this all went down- he's past hating the guy, despite how unbearable he finds him, would call them something adjacent to friends under duress, but it's not like they make a point of hanging out outside of class. and todoroki's a terrible conversationalist, always.

even so. two months, five days. he wants to talk, if only for the pleasure of getting to call him a superior bastard, if only to know that he's still the same confounding weirdo whose face he wears. it's not even the words, really- he wants to hear a pulse beat near him, to catch alert eyes on his, to watch his chest rise and fall. alive.

he can't believe the asshole stripped naked like that. pale flesh all over, but not that diseased grey tint, just regular winter cold, like the inside of a peach. bruises and scratches littering his limbs. nasty half-healed scar like someone had tried to gut him with a knife.

his lips are peeling when he licks them. he found vaseline in someone's drawer but he uses it sparingly. whenever he goes outside his lips crack to the point of blood. against the glow of the stove he can see only half of his new flatmate where he sits surveying his newly clean crowbar.

"what's in the duffel?"

he'd have bristled more at the invasion, pragmatic though it is, but todoroki only shifts obligingly to raise it to his lap.

"medical kit- bandages, aspirin, tweezers, needle and thread. three water bottles. instant noodles. biscuits. matchbox. a city map. a change of shoes. a space blanket. my wallet. wire. rope. an alarm clock. a mechanic's manual." he pauses, feels around, drags out a glass bottle. "this."

it's vodka, of all the things. katsuki half wants to laugh.

"you drink now?"

"kept me warm," todoroki shrugs. which is, maybe, all there is to it. maybe not.

"i'll run you through inventory in the morning," katsuki says, if reluctantly. best todoroki knows what they have on hand, despite how little he feels like letting him into his notebook. it's not like he's deku, writing down his little feelings all over it, but it feels revealing anyways, for todoroki to know what he's been tracking.

there's nothing else for them to talk about without heading into dangerous territory. todoroki packs his things back into the bag, careful, and katsuki is sick of his own weird emotional breakdown, doesn't know where this sudden needy cloying bullshit is even coming from.

two months five days, his brain says, chipper, and then offers to rewind the days preceding that. he hisses through his teeth before he remembers he has company.

"i'm going to bed. 's fuck all to do without wasting light. stay high up if you want to go exploring."

todoroki has gone back to muteness, because he only nods as katsuki glowers at nothing in particular and makes his way back to his room, unhappy at the sight of his diminished bedding. it's not like he's actually able to use the whole apartment's bedding anyways- too unwieldy, too heavy, whatever- but the three duvets and two quilts had been working well enough to insulate him against the chill, and with two sacrificed he's resigned to a night of tossing and turning.

fuck his life. he thinks maybe the reason he's been having these fits of weirdness across the days is just fatigue. between the nightmares and the cold and the actual zombie break-ins over the past six months he doesn't think he's managed a single night's good sleep beyond the times he's blacked out. he feels untethered, at times both more and less emotional than he's used to being.

no surprise that having a real life human being around- and one that he knows at that- is making him almost ill with conflicting urges. part of him wants to lock todoroki out in a cold sweat and never lay eyes on him again. part of him wants to cut him open and grab at his beating heart just to confirm he's not alone. the rest of him lies there wondering what the fuck is wrong with his brain.

he lies there for maybe an hour trying to get to sleep, but his mind has kicked into overdrive in the way that it does every goddamn night nowadays, replaying scenes he didn't even notice in the moment. one of the zombies by the bookstore had barely reached his shoulder. when he'd washed his bat there had been bits of an eye clinging to the base.

he's too busy being cold and annoyed and possibly hysterical to notice the soft footfall until it's close, jerking up on instinct to brandish his bat, but he can tell by the moonlight filtering in slivers through his blinds that it's todoroki, if the lack of shuffling hadn't given it away.

"what the hell is wrong with you?"

"i didn't mean to startle you," todoroki says. monotone, but in an off way, almost dreamy, like he's asleep. it makes katsuki's skin prickle with foreboding; he stares at the little he can see of his face, alert now.

"then what do you want?"

"you sound cold," todoroki says. still in the doorframe, unmoving. he wishes there was more light.

"it's the middle of winter, jackass, of course i'm cold. can you fuck off?"

"my father is dead," todoroki says, completely unprompted, voice not changing in timbre in the slightest, and it makes katsuki's heart jump before he sits fully upright, trying harder to make his face out.

enji todoroki, gone. he guesses he'd known that on some level, for todoroki to be roaming around like a ghost, but it doesn't compute. jesus. maybe todoroki's actually fucking lost it since. he imagines two months and five days tracking back to losing his father, feels that gut-punch of paralysis in his stomach.

he's so caught on processing it that he doesn't even register todoroki is climbing into the bed before he's halfway under the sheets.

"what the fuck are you doing?" his voice half-breaks on it, rising in sheer disbelief as he jerks violently back, because seriously- there's insane and there's insane, and he's starting to suspect todoroki is so out of it he'd snap his neck in his sleep.

todoroki has the audacity to shush him, distracted, and it takes katsuki actually grabbing him hard by the shoulder, braced to hit at the slightest flicker of intent, to stop him in his tracks.

"hey, asshole, i'm talking to you! are you out of your goddamn mind?"

where he's stopped now todoroki's one eye catches the moonlight, big and dark and eerie. he blinks slowly like he's coming out of a trance.

"oh, i-" he pauses. his pulse is sluggish under katsuki's hands, skin fire-hot. feverish, maybe. shit. feverish, very possibly. he'd had no layers in that shitty bookshop. "sorry."

he says it like he's not sure he means it. katsuki doesn't let up with his grip.

"how long you been sick, icyhot?"

"sick," todoroki repeats, processing it. his gaze sharpens. "days. i think maybe- what day is it?"

"wednesday. thirteenth."

"six days, then," todoroki says, quiet. their gazes catch, more consciously now. "i'm fine. the adrenaline helped."

"sit still," katsuki warns, and then pulls up quickly, shrugs his backpack off, digs out the medical kit. he has a decent stock of medicine in the apartment, enough that he only hesitates a beat before pulling out the advil bottle, unscrewing the cap to fill it. he knows the dosage by heart. "drink."

he nearly drops the whole bottle when todoroki just obediently sticks his mouth to the rim of the cap instead of taking it himself, hot breath fanning over his fingers as he drinks. it makes his own pulse go skittering with discomfort when he fills it a second time, brandishes it back. the cap is sticky and wet when he screws it back on; todoroki is still half-sitting where he told him to when he's done his bag up and slid it back onto his back.

"why'd you tell me about your dad just then?" katsuki asks, despite himself, if only to fill the silence.

"did i?" todoroki asks, on an exhale, visible eye swivelling to him. "i don't know. i was thinking about the cold, i think. he wasn't cold in the end."

he resists the urge to check his temperature. probably it got worse once he tried to go to sleep, all the residue adrenaline gone. it can't have been peaking all day, or they'd have never made it out in the first place. and it's not from a bite. just a fever. he's medicated. he'll sleep it off.

"i'm not crazy," todoroki informs him, suddenly cool, not so hazy. "just sick. i could hear you tossing and turning. that's why i came."

"why're you in my bed?" katsuki shoots back, on the edge of combative, not really. maybe he's a little relieved. he's a lot pissed off, even though he knows todoroki probably genuinely didn't realise what a state he was in the last week, might have actually been trying to make sense of his fluctuating mood himself. no shit he'd been so weird when they first ran into each other.

"i'm not sure," todoroki admits. "it seemed important at the time."

this makes him want to laugh, though he doesn't. the cracked-open raw part of him that still smarts loudly whenever he thinks of jeanist thinks he missed him somehow.

"glad we solved that mystery. get out now."

todoroki makes to move, stops when they're facing each other, blue eye white-pale on his. "actually i remember now, i think."

"i swear to god, half 'n half..."

"you're cold," todoroki repeats, factual, then back to floaty. "and i couldn't hear..."

he doesn't expect him to do what he does, which is why he doesn't stop him when he puts a too-hot palm directly over his heart, doesn't even pull back when he pushes, knocking him onto the bed.

"todoroki-"

"it's fine," todoroki says, scratchy, sweat-warm. he slides onto his own side in a heavy, graceless motion. face to face, half an arm between them, palm stuck to his chest. "it's fine."

it's the scratchiness that wins him over, or maybe the fever flush of him. todoroki may be fucked in the head but he's not, which is why he knows full well he's being insane by not shoving him out. it's just that on some extremely uncomfortable and deranged level he gets it, because he's been tracking his pulse like a shark since they first ran into each other. there's something less insane beneath it too, pragmatic acknowledgment that it is actually a great deal warmer when there's body heat to share, but he knows full well he'd have toughed it out, six months ago, sent him back to bed and spent the night half-awake in spiteful resignation.

it's six months later, though, and somewhere along the line he's been rewired wrong. he thinks it's not unlikely that he's just this desperate for a full night's sleep.

it doesn't really matter why, though. he lets him stay. in the morning if todoroki is back to himself he'll see right through whatever he says, and on balance he doesn't fucking care.

he's so fucking tired. two months and five days, six months and three. the last time someone touched him for more than a second without trying to kill him it was a crying intern, this bespectacled guy whose name he'd never bothered to learn choking on his own blood as he clutched katsuki's wrist for comfort. before that he thinks it was his mother, exchanging their usual routine of brusque ruffling before he got on the train. he hasn't cried since the start of this, but he feels like crying now, hot throbbing behind his eyes. he sucks in a breath, forces it down. time and place. he's said it like a mantra since the start, like there's ever going to be one.

todoroki is fast asleep, but his hand's still there. his fingers have curled into the wool.

two months and five days, he thinks again, remembering other hands, clutching his face, pinning his arms. that's changed now, he realises. still marks the date, but not the last time he's spoken to someone.

ten minutes, thirty seconds. he reaches to pull the covers higher over todoroki's shoulders, feels his stomach constrict when his hand brushes medicine-sticky lips in passing.

maybe todoroki can sail. that's a rich kid thing to do. he'll have to ask in the morning.

he falls asleep within fifteen minutes, forty seconds of todoroki, and doesn't wake until the sun rises.

[spill-the-milk-tea]

Little Nightmares II: The Timeloop Theory

(AKA my personal theory on why Six betrays Mono, and how it ties into Little Nightmares I)

TW// mentions of suicide

Now going into the reasoning behind Six dropping Mono, I love the theory that Six drops Mono because she recognizes him as the Thin Man, and either because she thinks it will save him or herself or both, she chooses to drop him into what she hopes is some sort of merciful death. But I think this doesn’t truly take into account the time traveling that’s going on here.

What we know for a fact is that what we are playing in Little Nightmares 2 is contained within some type of time loop (this technically applies even if you subscribe to the theory that Mono is simply the next person in-line to become the Broadcaster.) The Thin Man is attempting to save himself from being betrayed by Six, and by using his powers of traveling through time and space, he sends his younger self back through the TV to try again. In doing so, he’s created a time paradox of sorts. This is supported by various promotional material which uses language like “Will you go back?” and describes the Thin Man as being on a “continuous journey.” (A lot of this info can be found on the wiki!)

What this popular theory doesn’t take into account is the overall timeline. In order for this time loop to have began, Six must have betrayed Mono for some reason other than the Thin Man’s existence. The Thin Man had a beginning, and thus before that beginning, Six had different reasons for betraying Mono. This time loop is a branch away from that original timeline, and thus the reasons why Six betrays Mono are contained in this time loop.

Isolating this particular timeline which Little Nightmares 2 takes place in, there are both benevolent and malevolent explanations that people have come up with for Six’s actions. Some say Six was trying to save Mono from himself, and somehow recognized him as the Thin Man (more on this later.) Others would point to Six’s consistent malevolence throughout the game and reason that she just has a natural need to kill and destroy for her own self-preservation. However, that interferes with the overall game timeline continuing into her going onto the Maw in Little Nightmares 1, because the reasoning there is that having her “soul” stolen is what causes her to develop that malevolent hunger for death.

The clues pointing to my personal theory have to do with the Glitching Children. Mono collects these throughout the game and clearly experiences some sort of painful interference when he does so. Part of my theory is that these are alternate timeline versions of Mono—memories, trapped in places that either caused him despair or gave him comfort. This directly connects to the stasis of Six’s soul, which when in the TV, is trapped in her despair/comfort zone, which is the Hunter’s Lodge with her music box.^

^ This relates back to my overall meta-game theory on the various metaphors contained in the Little Nightmares franchise found here (link pending)

My theory? The Six you meet in this game is not actually “Six.” It’s the memory of Six—her soul, her “Glitch” that we see stolen later in the game—because as I mentioned before, this is a time loop. The reason why she is so violent throughout the game is because she is the distilled memory of Six’s own despair. See, the thing I find funny about the TV time loop theory is that TVs can only show you recordings of things that already happened. I think the Thin Man created this self contained, so-called “time loop” based on his own memory, containing Six’s soul/memories which he stole from her.

It’s not a time loop—it’s a rerun.

That is why his younger self pops out of a TV at the beginning of the game. He’s simply being transported into a memory, or “recording” of the past. And he first meets Six in the place where her memory is trapped in the Thin Man’s TV—with her music box. This would explain Six’s erratic actions throughout the game. Not only her violence, but why she at first rebuffs Mono’s help. Because “Six” is essentially just Six’s memories, she remembers that Mono is the Thin Man and of course doesn’t want his help. It’s only when she realizes that she can’t escape the timeloop without Mono’s help that she forms this symbiotic relationship with him.

So the reason why Six drops Mono, at least within this rerun we are playing, is because she’s known all along that he was the Thin Man.

And honestly? This is delving into more personal perspective than logic, but I don’t think Six really wants to kill Mono. She spends the entire game pulling him out of the TVs, trying to create a new timeline in which they never meet the Thin Man and just escape out of the city together. But Six dropping Mono is unfortunately inevitable, because this is Mono’s memory. Mono, in trying to save himself from Six, trapped Six in this rerun. Six spends the entire game trying to escape from us. In her eyes, Mono is very well the villain. Mono could be the reason why the soulless version of Six that escaped the initial time loop goes on to commit the heinous acts in Little Nightmares 1.

Let’s also take a quick break to acknowledge this is all quite confusing (tldr; time travel) and recap: it’s important to remember that the “Six” in Little Nightmares, at least according to my hypothesis, isn’t actually real. In the timeline outside of this rerun, the real quote-unquote “original” Six** without her soul goes on to the Maw. This is the Six we see in the secret scene unlocked when we collect all the Glitch Children, as well as the one we play in the first game which takes place after Little Nightmares 2.

**not accounting for the branching timeline where Six betrays Mono for different reasons, technically irrelevant to the overall plot but still important to remember since it establishes the timeloop

This would also tentatively explain why the Glitch of Six is able to lead us to the Thin Man. This could be Six’s actual memory/soul, which is perpetually trapped in this rerun/time loop, or this could simply be Six in an alternate timeline inadvertently leading Mono for unrelated reasons.

This unfortunately doesn’t account for theories that the Hanging Man and the Thin Man are the same person; although I would argue since the timeloop is contained, technically the original soulless “Six” branches off into a different timeline on the Maw, and thus in that timeline The Thin Man could have manifested himself on the Maw through one of the televisions and subsequently hung himself. I mean, there are even grander theories that Six, in gaining the powers of the Lady, traps herself in some sort of time loop in which she becomes the Lady on the Maw, so who knows?

It also puts Six’s theme into a whole new light; every time Six consumes a soul and gains their memories, does she faintly remember her own lost soul playing the music box? What is this Six looking for, having lost all of her memories? I think this theory also explains more meta-game questions most people tend to have. For example, I find that when people reach the residential area of the game with all the TV-zombies, they tend to start wondering why Six and Mono are moving through the city at all. It’s understandable why they would want to escape the Wilderness where the Hunter was, even if he was dead, but why continue through the city if the goal was to escape danger? Large swaths of the game are spent in empty areas which are eerily quiet and host literally no enemies whatsoever. Why keep moving?

In the original timeline before the time loop, I think Six and Mono had a definite goal, a place they were going to that was past the city. I doubt it was the Maw, since Six goes there solely to indulge her newfound hunger—though perhaps her reasoning for going there was simply twisted after the Thin Man stole her memory, since the lingering of her music box theme suggests she still has very faint memories of who she was before she met the Thin Man. Keep in mind this “rerun” is based on Mono’s memory, so everything that occurs in the Forest all the way up until they meet the Thin Man most likely actually happened in the original timeline. But we never get to see where they were actually going to go since the focus shifts to surviving the Thin Man, because this time loop was created solely for Mono to cope with Six’s betrayal—which is unfortunately inevitable within the time loop he created (time paradoxes are fun.) Besides, even if against all odds Mono, with or without Six, actually managed to escape the time loop, I don’t think the Thin Man remembers or cares to remember his original plan with Six; thus, Mono wouldn’t remember either. So in that sense, Mono and Six are just these husks without memories, going towards a place that neither of them really remember why they wanted to go to in the first place.

Finally, I think Mono’s name, which literally means “1” and theoretically refers to the fear of being alone (Monophobia), acts as it’s own foreshadowing as to the true nature of the game. Since “Six” isn’t physically there in Mono’s rerun, Mono is actually alone throughout the entire game; he is simply reliving a recording, with the memory of a friend who has long left him. Expanding off that, one could argue that the Thin Man subconsciously captured Six because by trapping her in this rerun—though she always betrays him—Mono gets to keep being with his friend over and over again. After all, I think the saddest part is that one of the the reasons why this time loop is perpetuated is because Mono always tries to save Six. If the Thin Man captured Six and Mono continued to wherever he wanted to go, then the timeloop would end. But this is Mono’s memory. And Mono doesn’t know why Six betrayed him. All he knows is that Six was his friend.

I think the memory-time connection is something to think about even if my theory doesn’t account for all contingencies! It’s just my very complicated way of tying up most of the loose ends people complain about, as well as more neatly connecting Six’s motivations going from the prequel Little Nightmares 2 into Little Nightmares 1. It also neither demonizes nor justifies the actions of both Mono or Six’s character, and I personally find the overall story (or what we know of it) more enjoyable when neither character is viewed as an obvious villain to the other. Mono and Six being trapped in this rerun where they continue to hurt one another, once again, plays into my meta-game theory where much of the “Little Nightmares” franchise is a metaphor for childhood trauma.

We ultimately don’t know their true reasonings, only that they’re both suffering; Mono feeling betrayed and Six being either trapped or soulless depending on which timeline you look at. Just victims of circumstance—but there’s still that nagging question of why the “true” Six betrayed Mono in the first place!

Warning: non-theory opinions ahead

All very intriguing, and it’s sad, though understandable, that Tarsier Studios has chosen to move on to new projects when I feel like there’s so much more they could have explored in this universe. Bandai Namco has hinted at continuing the franchise, though I feel like the most they could do is release DLCs rather than an actual full game which would finish out the series in a satisfactory way. Not to mention the constantly retconned comics and vague responses suggest that the developers had no plans on ever making a cohesive timeline/plot, thus this whole theory is just a buttload of overthinking lol. While I respect games that leave open ended endings and unanswered questions, it’s just unfortunate since unlike other franchises of this genre, I felt like Little Nightmares had a ton of potential to be completed in some sense.

[aj-the-cat]

Lawless

~ Chapter 2 ~ Masterlist

Word Count: 1683

Scorpion's Roost

Solidarity, Texas

(Dedicated to all 100+ followers. Enjoy!)

Undertaker left the saloon that afternoon utterly confused. What whas that cowboy doing? He didn't understand humans, ever since he turned immortal he forgot all about being one. All memories left him except one particular one. Why it stayed, he had no idea. It tormented him.

Eventually his walking led to him being inside the comfort of his funeral parlor. His gathered up thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind as he took off his hat and overcoat. A large black cat met him at the door. It was pudgy, and the look on its face resembled one an irritated human could pull. Its face was also very pudgy, and a shrill meow left its mouth to gain the attention of the tall man.

"I just got home, Paul. Settle down please. It's been a long day." Another shrill meow. "Who cares if I've been drinking?! I'm immortal, it's not gonna hurt me. Now leave me be, I want to be alone." A scoff-like noise came from the cat, then he left, his pudgy paws padding on the floorboard. "Ever since he put himself in a cat, he's been more annoying than ever, I swear." Undertaker told himself.

Sighing, Undertaker pulled off his shoes and threw them somewhere. He'll find them in the morning. His socks, belt, vest and shirt flew off somewhere as well, leaving him in just his slacks. His pale skin glowed in the moonlight from a window, as well as the mysterious patterns on his arms. Intricate demonic designs littered his arms like sleeves, stopping at his shoulders. They appeared the night he turned immortal.

Undertaker staggered a little, the whiskey in his body finally taking effect. His head buzzed. He took slow and steady steps to his bedroom, careful not to bump into any precious coffins he made. Blueprints littered the countertops everywhere, with all sorts of designs for coffins.

His staggering journey took him to his wanted destination and he flopped facedown on his bed, inhaling the scent of his own cologne and a hint of cat. 'Paul must've slept here', He thought.

Deciding not to get up, his mind wandered back to the small cowboy at the bar. He didn't understand humans and their frivolous ways. Always rubbing themselves against each other for pleasure just to end up sad and lonely afterword. Letting out a yawn, he turned himself over to stare at the ceiling, eventually falling asleep from the large amount of whiskey in his body.

*~*

Light snores escaped Undertaker's body. He seemed peaceful, until his occasional twitches turned into thrashes. Fire was all he could see. Orange flames swallowing up a house. Screams. All he could do was watch in horror as the house he grew up in was swallowed by bright flames. "Mother! Father! Kane!" His mouth moved on its own. The screams died down, until all you could hear was the crackling of the fire. Undertaker fell to his knees, helpless. He just watched his parents and brother die in a fire caused by his foolish hand.

A scream left the lips on the undead man and he flew up from his bed. Sweat and tears dripped down his body and cheeks as his breathing staggered. Undertaker gripped his head in his hands and slowed his breathing to a normal rate. He hated falling asleep. This nightmare plagued him.

After calming himself for a few minutes, Undertaker slowly got out of his bed and found his scattered clothes one by one. He placed them in a basket and went back to his bedroom. Paul, the cat, sat on his bed. "I don't need to hear anything from you." Undertaker growled out. The cat just shook his head and jumped off the bed, heading to another part of the parlor. Sighing, Undertaker grabbed clothes from his dresser and a towel and headed to the pond behind the parlor.

He stripped his pants and undergarments and padded into the cool water. The cold temperature didn't bother him. There was a bucket with cleaning supplies at the other side of the pond, but Undertaker didn't bother to grab it for right now. He wanted to relax.

*~*

After sitting in the water for a while, Undertaker decided it was time to wash himself so he moved towards the bucket. He quickly dunked his head underwater to get it wet and grabbed the shampoo, but stopped when he heard voices. 'What the fuck? This is my private pond!', he thought.

The voices grew louder and Undertaker panicked and dipped his head underwater until only his eyes and top of his head could be seen. Who needs to breathe anyways?

The cowboy and his partner appeared from the bushes surrounding the pond, followed by two other guys. They were both big and burly, but the darker haired one was just a bit shoter than the bigger blonde.

"Voila. Found it a couple weeks ago while me n' Scott were running from a sheriff. Been our secret pond since." The bigger of the four said. 'Except this is my pond and I made it myself, dick head.', Undertaker narrowed his eyes. The small cowboy scanned the pond and smiled. "Last one in is a rattlesnakes lover!" He shouted and started stripping.

Undertakers eyed widened. 'No, no no no no!' He watched in horror as the four strangers stripped to their undergarments and jumped into his pond. 'And I thought I would have a good day...' He thought. The cowboy started splashing everybody, getting lots of water on the bank and dirtying up the clean water with dirt and debris.

'That fuckin does it.' Undertaker's eyes became black. The rest of his head emerged from the water, and he focused in on the cowboy from yesterday. 'Want to intrude on my life? Fine.' His horns started to sprout, but the cowboy noticed him.

"Hey! Its the man from the bar yesterday! What are you doing in this pond?" The three other men looked to where the cowboy had pointed out. Undertaker quickly averted his eyes back to green and the horn nubs desappeared. He said nothing.

"Shawn, who's that?" The cowboy's original companion asked. The two other men stayed silent. The cowboy- Shawn -chuckled. "Just some hot guy from the bar yesterday. Surprise seeing you here! How'd you find the pond?" Shawn asked. Undertaker narrowed his eyes. "I live in the building right in front of this pond. I own it." He spat.

Shawn's eyes widened, then narrowed in confusion. "But Kev-"

"GET OUT!" Undertaker yelled. His eyes turned back to black and he stood up fully, exposing his muscular torso and marked arms. Shawn blushed.

A growl started in the throat of Undertaker, and the four outlaws panicked and scrambled over one another to try to get out and away from the demonic man in the pond. They grabbed their stuff and jumped the fence, the taller of the four accidentally knocking over Shawn's original companion in the process.

Undertaker sighed in annoyance, and his eyes slowly turned back to normal. His bath was ruined, the pond probably contaminated, and he just exposed himself to the cowboy from the bar. He mentally slapped himself and finished his washing.

*~*

Grabbing his new clothes and towel, he quickly dried himself and put on black slacks, grey dress shirt and black dress vest. He would ditch the tie and overcoat today, he planned to spend the day inside his parlor working on coffins.

He walked up the path to his parlor, making sure Paul's food bowl was filled, as well as the flower garden not trampled or littered with bugs. The daisy's were nice and fragrent, the roses with beautiful colors, snapdragons at attention, and the peonies-

"What the hell happened to my peonies?!" Undertaker exclaimed. Dirt and flowers were scattered. Boot prints led a trail to the other side of the parlor. "Somebody dug up my peonies..."

Paul stalked up and sat his pudgy body beside Undertaker. His shrill meow didn't faze Undertaker, he was too busy mourning the loss of his flowers and plotting ways to kill the flower murderer.

Undertaker kneeled down and palmed at the dug up soil, finding tiny roots from flowers and scattered petals. "I'm gonna kill whoever did this." He growled. Paul meowed and licked one his paws. Undertaker still didn't bat an eye.

Sighing, he stood back up and walked through the back door of his parlor, Paul hot on his heels. Or however fast a fat cat can keep up with a 6'10 zombie.

Inside, Undertaker threw his dirty clothes and towel in a nearby room and walked to the front doors of his parlor. 'I really don't want to open today but I guess I have to.' He thought as he opened the doors, letting mid-morning light flood his front room.

He looked around, and noticed pink on the ground. He looked, and a bad bouqet of pink peonies messily thrown together sat on the ground. The roots were still intact. Grunting, Undertaker bent down and picked up the bouqet. A messy note was attached.

'Sorry for playing in your pond. I hope these make up a good apology. - Shawn'

"I'm gonna fucking kill him." Undertaker growled. He resisted the urge to hold the flowers close, as he was in broad daylight, but he did when he turned to go back in his parlor. "Of all people, why did HE get invloved in two days worth of my life?!" He thought aloud.

Paul padded up to Undertaker and gave another shrill meow. This time, Undertaker noticed him and rolled his eyes. "No, I don't even know him. He just came up to me in the bar yesterday and tried to fraternize with me." Undertaker replied. Paul meowed harshly. "Shut up! Not like you can do anything, you're just a cat." Paul huffed, and swiped at the mans ankles.

Undertaker pulled his leg up just in time and shooed off his pesky human-like cat. Paul ran off, leaving Undertaker with his peonies and murderous thoughts.

[nerdneeniya]

I know that there is no established time frame beyond the large range of 50-50,000 years that Chell was in cryosleep, but what if it was only for 15 years.

Aperature is somewhere in the US, and by this point the United States is already a big red X on the map. I can only assume its ravished and desolate and if any humans still exist there, they are few and far between. So Chell comes out into a world where she is essentially all alone.

There wouldn't be much around to help piece together what happened, maybe a couple quickly scribbled notes left on kitchen counters saying sorry we can't wait for you to come home we have to leave now, or blocky graffiti on alley walls screaming of the end times, or faint chalk markings pointing to escape routes and hidden safe houses. It is undeniable though that an alien invasion occurred, and Chell really doesn't want to unpack all that after what she's been through in Aperature, but her life is already pretty weird, so this might as well happen.

Since its been 15 years zombies aren't a huge issue. There are a couple here and there, but with all the humans gone, they are in short supply. Headcrabs can still be found in the rubble of broken cities and suburban homes, scurrying around trying to scrounge up even the tiniest morsel. In a world where they're not equipped to prey on most of the local fauna, they quickly become prey themselves.

Houndeyes and barnacles are more prevalent, having an easier time of integrating themselves into the local environment, but they're not the only creatures Chell encounters in the empty cities. Like all those quarantine memes say, nature has healed (somewhat). The cities aren't bustling with wildlife, but Chell isn't as alone as she would initially think, so she always ends up moving around so as not to make herself too easy a target. Plus she kind of wants to find more people.

Chell travels south, heading for Mexico. Or what's left of it. Graffiti on the sides of telephone booths and gas station bathrooms tell her it's safe down there, that there are cities still full of living people. She doesn't know how old the messages are, but it's her only lead.

Chell only considers going back to Aperature Science once after months of traveling alone. At least the facility had some other sentient being she could sort of talk to. She scraps that idea pretty quickly though, realizing even if she did go back, she still wouldn't give Glados the satisfaction of responding to her. And the AI would most definitely try to kill her.

Eventually she thinks she passes into Mexico, if the street signs are anything to go by. The graffiti and wall messages are different here. The further south she heads, the more they urge her to turn back, the US is the only free place left. She doesn't turn back though, she knows what's back there and she'd rather brave what's ahead than face the loneliness behind.

It's not until she meets her first group of humans that she finally understands what that message meant. She supposes that that graffiti held some truth, if it considered desolate hellscapes devoid of humanity freedom. But after months of being alone and traversing through empty expanses, Chell is ready for a little caged living. Though she quickly comes to despise that too, never one for being confined.

A couple years pass and Chell acclimates to this new world she's found herself in. She learns about the Combine and the downfall of humanity. She also learns that it's all Black Mesa's doing and she's sure if Cave Johnson were alive he'd be laughing his ass off at their monumental failure. Much like her time as a test subject, Chell is defiant of the authority figures and does everything in her power to undermine them. She teams up with local resistance groups and quickly climbs their ranks, earning notoriety on par with Gordon Freeman. However, the Combine are not low on power and lacking in resources like Glados was and in a raid gone wrong Chell is captured and sent on a transport vehicle straight for Nova Prospekt a couple months prior to when Gordon is scheduled for the same.

In what must surely be a planned encounter, Chell is stopped by Barney for a closer inspection when she reaches City 17. Chell thinks the worst is about to happen and promptly kicks his ass and makes her escape. Barney, for his part, knows his way better around the city and is able to corner Chell again and removes his helmet and explains himself. She asks him why he stopped her specifically and he, much to her suprise, responds with ASL too and tells her there was something about her orange jumpsuit (which for some reason she's kept all these years) that brought up some memories of an old friend and he felt like he had to stop her from getting any closer to Nova. She's predictably suspicious but Barney assures her that if he were lying she could just beat him up again, he really doesn't stand a chance.

Barney brings her to Kleiner's lab and without introducing himself or learning Chell's name he is immediately drawn to her portal gun. It may not be the kind of teleportation he and the other scientists are trying to build, but it sure as hell would help with moving people and supplies. Chell is hesitant to part with the gun, it's been her main defense for years now, but when Alyx shows up, equally eager to take a look at the gun she relents.

Alyx and Chell are quick friends and Alyx learns pretty quick who Chell is, her reputation preceding her. When they make it to Black Mesa East, other resistance members joke that Chell must be the second coming of Gordon, they even wear the same colors. Chell once again gains status as a resistance leader and greatly helps with the underground railroad now that the portal gun has been enhanced to work on other surfaces besides moon paint.

When Gordon finally arrives in Black Mesa East, he meets Chell and is pleasantly suprised that she is also mute. They are quick to bond over their supposed savior of humanity status and weird time displacement. Chell fills Gordon in on everything that's happened and he's not left wondering what the hell is happening for the next week because no one else will tell him what the hell is going on at any given moment.

I could keep going with this idea, but this post is already hella long, so I'll stop here.

[kikiwhataboutthatbrendon]

Welcomes Sweet as Whiskey

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29830425/chapters/74452059#workskin Chapter Two of The Survivors of Death. - They come home.

It’s different being beneath the stars again.

It's different feeling wind through your hair again, the faint nip of cold at the tips of your nose and ears, the solidity of ground underfoot.

These thoughts are shared between the newly resurrected dead as they walk away from the prison and to Tommy’s house. It had been silent as Sam watched the four go, somewhere between a state of shock, grief, and sickening worry, for Dream had escaped.

How?

It was still unknown.

Tommy is held close to Wilbur, having fallen asleep by the time Sam had navigated them out of the prison. Wilbur leads them down the Prime Path, passing buildings old and new, he’d be smiling if it weren't for the fact that Tommy keeps whimpering in pain while he sleeps. Schlatt’s following Wilbur from behind, trying to stay on the Prime Path and walk in a straight line. Mexican Dream is sticking close to Schlatt’s side, looking around wildly, muttering a prayer under his breath, Schlatt thinks he hears something about zombies.

Wilbur turns the corner to Tommy's house, stopping at the sight of it. It's still the same dirt hut it was always known to be, but… someone had planted flowers outside of it. Roses, red and white tulips, and lily of the valley line the path to Tommy's door and even grow on the dirt roof. The delicate things sway in a soft breeze, shining underneath a bright moon.

“Oh…” He whispers, causing Schlatt and Mexican Dream to look at him for a brief moment.

“Thomas loves flowers.” Mexican Dream mutters, kneeling down to snap a rose's stem and bring it to his nose to smell.

Schlatt looks to become increasingly uncomfortable the longer Wilbur and Mexican Dream stare at the beauty that has taken over Tommy’s land. He weaves his way through them, grumbling underneath his breath as he makes his way into Tommy’s house. He’s about it slam it shut when he hesitates, looks behind his shoulder, then begrudgingly holds the door open for Wilbur and Mexican Dream. Schlatt keeps his gaze fixed on the ground as he holds the door open.

Wilbur wordlessly walks past Schlatt into Tommy’s house, shoulders falling in relief when he sees Tommy’s bed backed against the wall in his main room. He gently sets Tommy down, sighing as the strain on his arms dissipates.

Schlatt lets the door close once Mexican Dream steps through. Mexican Dream sighs heavily and slides onto the floor next to the door, rose stem gripped in his hand tight.

Schlatt hesitates to step further into the room, watching Wilbur tentatively pull a blanket over Tommy. He hugs himself tight as a fleeting thought crosses his mind, a memory, a reminder of when he had been the subject of Wilbur’s attention in a similar situation years ago, when they were younger, and thought they meant it when they said ‘forever.’ They couldn't have been older than Tommy, probably younger, when Wilbur was helping Schlatt into bed with tears running down his face for the pain his best friend had been in. Although hybrids had won their rights and been free for years they were still the subject of oppression and violence. Wilbur and Schlatt had been simply walking home, a calm night's stroll underneath a blanket of clouds and stars had turned into a bloody street fight with Wilbur’s guitar broken over the head of one of the boys who had attacked them. Because Schlatt had horns and a tail that had peeked out from underneath his sweater.

Wilbur pulls away from Tommy, the same memory playing through his mind. He turns, finding Schlatt’s stare, and he just knows, because he had known Schlatt once, and Schlatt had known him, they had known each other better than they had known themselves.

Wilbur opens his mouth, taking the smallest step forward-

“Don't you fucking dare.” Schlatt growls, hooved fingers digging into his already tattered suit jacket.

Wilbur closes his mouth abruptly, and the small look of guilt that had crossed his face falls into contempt. “Are you serious?” He asks, bemused.

Schlatt nods, forcing himself to meet Wilbur’s eyes. “I know how you are, we know how this’ll end.” He mutters, though his words are clear to the room.

“Oh you suddenly know me?” Wilbur questions, a smile appearing on his lips as rage boils in his blood.

Mexican Dream looks up at them, fearful concern surfacing within him. He already gets the idea that he’s about to bear witness to a years long argument, decades worth of heartache and heartbreak, something that goes deeper than even family ties. A broken promise between two souls made for one another in the form of two best friends that didn't get their forever.

Mexican Dream pushes himself to his feet, pointedly walking between Schlatt and Wilbur. He crosses the room and sets the rose next to Tommy’s head then runs a careful hand over his hair. Mexican Dream hesitates, looking at both Schlatt and Wilbur and their pissed off expressions. He shakes his head, disappointed. "Dios ayude a estos dos." He mummers.

“I think I’m gonna sit outside for a while,” He announces loudly, "buenas noches imbéciles."

Wilbur and Schlatt watch him leave, shutting the door quietly while casting a scowl over his shoulder.

Wilbur sighs after a long moment then slumps to the floor, carding a gentle hand through Tommy's hair.

Schlatt's look of disdain softens, and he grumbles quietly. "Look, I'm sorry, just…" He gains a far off look in his eyes as he turns away. "I really didn't want to come back." He mutters.

"Neither did I," Wilbur snaps, keeping his voice low, "but here we are and it's not like I'm going to kill myself and go back to the void alone."

Schlatt shifts uncomfortably and runs a hand through already messy hair before sighing and walking over to sit next to Wilbur.

"I'm going to be better this time around." He says confidently, trying to catch Wilbur's gaze.

Wilbur glares at him, "You said that before I left our home server," He snarls, "then you decided to run against me, exile my little brother and I, then go to war with us." His gaze holds nothing but malice as he stares Schlatt down. "Some best friend you were." He seethes.

Anything Schlatt could have rebutted with dies in his throat as shame overtakes him. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a careful breath then opens them and forces himself to his feet. “I’m gonna visit L’manburg.” He says as he walks out, not catching the way Wilbur sized up at the mention of his country.

The doors open and close, leaving Wilbur and Tommy alone. Wilbur huffs, pushing away several feelings along the lines of grief, resentment, and disquietude crawling up his throat. He looks to Tommy, watching the way he winces and mummers in his sleep. Wilbur shuffles around to stretch his legs into a comfortable position as he takes Tommy’s hand in his and rests his head in the crook of his arm on the edge of Tommy’s bed. It’s comfortable for now but Wilbur knows he’ll wake up with a crick in his neck come morning, he honestly couldn't care. His breathing slows with the comfort of Tommy’s hand in his, the fact that his brother's skin is warm and not deathly cold as it had been in the void. He moves his thumb to find Tommy’s pulse point and exhales a heavy breath as he feels a steady beat. He shifts one more time before letting the tension his his shoulder go, relaxing as the ache in his chest lesses, and closes his eyes when Tommy’s hand tightens around his own.

-

Come dawn the news of a resurrection and Dream’s escape had gotten to even the furthest reaches of the SMP.

“Dios ayude a estos dos.” - “God help these two.” “buenas noches imbéciles." - “goodnight assholes/morons/idiots.” - You can commission me for fics on my Patreon! :D

[angelcakedraws]

Rin’s past is filled with twists, turns, death, and a freakshow that changed her soul forever.. care to hear? Give me a listen and let me tell you the tale of Rin Himura...

Rin was born into a middle class family in the countryside of Japan, in a small but quaint neighborhood. Her parents were young but loving, and they cared with all their heart about their little girl. She loved animals, however she didn’t have many friends because of her appearance. Being pale, having dark hair, and kinda creepy eyes frightened other children, but she didn’t mind. She had a few friends and her parents. Her quirk manifested when she was seven, as she had picked up a dead lizard that a neighbors cat had killed, and it had easily been dead for two days. Her parents were shocked but thrilled, neither of them had that quirk. Her parents told her that her quirk could save lives, like a doctor. She set her mind on becoming a doctor since then, and she wanted to save lives. 

Rin’s quirk allowed her to raise and control the dead. Anything animal had died, she could bring them back using her quirk and control their every move, like a necromancer.

Rin kept growing and was quite an intelligent girl, but with a Macabre side, like her mother. Her mom had always liked creepy old fashioned things, like a Victorian horror story. That had rubbed off a lot on Rin, and she would read stories with her mom. Her mother collected that type of clothing but never wore it, in order to preserve it, she kept it in her closet high up where Rin couldn’t reach. When Rin reached the age of 12, her parents took her to a renaissance festival in order to get some new stuff for a Victorian style. Unfortunately, Rin got separated from them. Next thing she knew, she was yanked into a dark tent and knocked out.

A group of men kidnapped her based on her appearance, since she looked to be very creepy. The people who kidnapped her were circus people and wanted her for gain, the recent development of quirks from the past years has led to a rise in the freak show business again. It was more underground than it was before but it was still humiliating for anyone who was a part of it. When they found out about her quirk they were even more excited. 

They made her show off her quirk in front of large audiences until it exhausted her, she’d pass out from the excess use of power, and get whipped when she would stop. She has scars all over her back now and that’s why she wears so much clothing. She had to overuse her quirk almost every day, and it caused her arm to start to rot away from excessive power use, a side effect of her quirk. She brought to life any animals, big or small, predator or prey. They even made her revive some of her fellow “freaks” and control them until their bodies started to smell too much.

For years she took it without a fight, and often nurtured those who were new, comforting them to the best of her ability. She even found herself a lover there, a girl with the ability to turn into a fiery bird of legend, a Phoenix. However, she died after having water thrown on her in her fire form, her body turning to nothing but smoke and steam. Rin carried on for 5 more years after her death, constantly having to smile at an audience that laughed and awed at her torture, and she dare not frown or try and fight, for the ring master had a gun pointed at her in the dark under the stands, and he would smile and point until Rin was done performing her revival act.

After 7 years, she decided it was enough. After being thrown into her cell and whipped on the back for the last time, she used a dead mouse to retrieve the keys and break her free. The rest of the staff and the ringmaster were putting on the other part of the show while she grabbed a gallon of gasoline and a match, walking around behind the dark stands where the audience sat and pouring the flammable liquid around it, she stepped outside the circle, lit the match, and dropped it. 

 She watched the tent burst into flames, creating an inescapable ring of Fire. It killed everyone in the audience. The rest of the staff and the “freaks” were able to escape the tent. She then used her power to bring to life all the freshly burned carcasses in the audience, having them attack the staff. They killed everyone and released the rest of the captives there, who ran free from their slavery. Rin found the ringmaster attempting to run with a charred leg, and ordered two of the undead audience members to seize him and bring him to her. He tried to shoot the zombies, but they couldn’t feel the pain, they were dead after all. She looked down at him, his fear filled eyes meeting hers. She grabbed his gun from the holster, and he watched helplessly as she cocked it, aiming it right between his eyes. He was shot dead on the spot, and Rin dropped her army of corpses, she herself dropping to the ground momentarily from exhaustion. She quickly stood up, remembering she was free. She made her way towards the city with quick strides.

The very first thing she did as she escaped was try and find her parents, she wasn’t super young so she remembered where her house was and how to get there. However, when she arrived at her house, it was abandoned. Boarded off and overgrown with the flower vines in the front yard. She went inside and her heart shattered with every glance, nothing had been taken, it was untouched. All the pictures were still up, there were still some dishes in the sink, and some of her toys were still on the floor. She went back into her room and nothing had changed, she stifled her tears as she looked around, her parents didn’t move a single thing after she disappeared. She quickly left, unable to control herself, and took a walk. She was walking along and ended up in the graveyard that her mom would take her to as a child, where her grandparents were buried. She kept contemplating what she should do, would and old neighbor recognize her? And would they tell her where her parents went? Would they even care? She stopped, walking up to her grandparents graves, seeing.. more stones. She look at the stones and started to shake. 

Akane Himura

Kyo Himura

She dropped to her knees, whimpers escaping her lips, shaking violently and tears streaming down her face. She let out the loudest, most painful scream, and gripped the stone of her mother, all the blood in her face gone. They were dead, they were gone. Her mom and dad were gone.. forever. She’s sobbed and gripped the other stone, memories flashing through her head and her heart shattering. Between hiccups and coughs, she glanced at the third grave, her sobs abruptly stopping. With tears still streaming down her face, she read the final stone.

R I N  H I M U R A

Her name was on that stone. She was assumed dead.. she couldn’t have died, she knew her parents would keep searching for her no matter what. She looked at the dates, her sadness slowly turning into a blood red rage. She had been confirmed dead not but a month after her parents had passed. Connecting the dots, she knew the heroes had stopped searching. Her parents had died 2 years before that day, and she knew they would have kept looking. Her parents had pestered the heroes to keep searching, but they weren’t interested, it wasn’t flashy or cool to look for someone’s missing child. Rin bolted up, tears still clouding her eyes and rage clouding her judgement. She grazed the tops of each family tombstone, and stopped at hers. She kicked, and kicked, and kicked. That stone came loose with her force, and she used a hefty amount of strength to push it down the hill with her foot, her “death” was bullshit.

She stormed back into the house, grabbing her small locket necklace that she had as a child, and her mother’s ruby pendant that she would wear to formal occasions. The heroes would pay for what they did to her parents. They were restless in her graves, and she could feel it, they could never rest peacefully until they knew she was safe. Only now, Rin knew they wouldn’t be at peace until heroes were shown what happens when you leave a child in need.

She found an abandoned hotel and made it her home, she spruced it up with the money she had. And eventually used a small area as a place to meet people in mourning, usually rich families. They had money, and that’s what Rin needed to survive. She told them about her power but lied about it’s specific abilities, telling them they’d have ten minutes to talk to their late friend or family member one last time. She brought them to their burial sight, brought the corpse to life, and had the “zombie” kill them, she proceeded to take their money and have the corpse rebury itself into the ground, which was easy since it was recently buried. She used the money she stole to redecorate her home and get nicer clothing. 

Rin saw the USJ attack on TV and was intrigued by the group who committed the crime, wondering what it would be like to fight in groups rather than on her own. She had always been a bit theatric with her attacks, but this was a level that almost fascinated iher. She decided to take a stab at something such as that. When she found out that the same class would be visiting a history museum, she sprung at the opportunity and attacked. She brought to life the skeletons of dinosaurs and other prehistoric skeletons. This was the first time she was shown publicly, all her cases she was involved with were stated as psychotic attacks by some sort of deranged murderer, never a larger conspiracy behind it nor different undead humans involved. 

Luckily, Rin was smart, and made sure her face was never caught on camera, yet some student saw her face, however, her arm was never revealed. Giran and Rin were at a dinner while Giran was talking with another potential member. Of course that colleague dm didn’t work out, but Rin’s sharp ears overheard the conversation. She approached him and introduced herself. She was proper and shared some casual conversation, she spoke with him about the league in a hushed voice. She told him of her attack on TV and of the attacks on the others she had killed for money. He was intrigued by her, and she was taken to the bar where she was recruited by Shigaraki. 

Her first time killing all of those people in the audience, even though they were all sick and twisted, it haunts her. She feels as if the blood on her hands has never washed off, another reason she almost always wears gloves. If you can tell, she never kills anyone herself, it’s always her undead minions who kill for her. She killed the people in the audience and the ringmaster, she feels little pity for her ringmaster, but it still shook her to her core how many people she killed that day, that blood was on her own hands.

But, something that comforts her is that she saved all the “freaks” at the show and gave them freedom. She doesn’t know where any of them are now, but she took care of them while they were there and set them free when she had the chance.

[anangelicday-mrwolf]

Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 54 – The Night of Horror

“Tao, duck!”

Screamed M-21, to which Tao responded by promptly letting an imaginary hand wrench his entire torso towards his feet.

Not a second after, a human body thrust its way through the exact spot where his head used to be.

Wham!

“Krrrgh!”

“Kraah!”

The agent M-21 just wrestle-flung collided with a man in a lab coat, reaping from them grunts close to beastly snarls.

They shared one thing in common – nothing about their appearances suggested they are Homo sapiens, with discolored skin reminiscent of corpses, nails and teeth jutting out in a vicious manner, and eyes seemingly brimming with blood.

And these were not exclusive to the two pseudo-zombies giving Tao and M-21 a challenge like nothing before.

Of course, it would take less than a minute and feel like less than 10 seconds for Tao and M-21 to make sure their opponents will never again disrupt them.

Alas, they could not position themselves appropriately, let alone pull out a weapon or shift into battle forms, because they happened to be facing the staff of KSA.

“Looks like that gas was combined with the technology on... What was it again? Rapid body modification?”

“Yup. Damn, I didn’t think it would be so effective.”

The two men lamented upon witnessing how employees and agents wobbled back to their feet; they could swear they did more than a proper job of hitting their vital points to knock them out.

They even twisted the ankles, solemnly swearing to get upon their knees for forgiveness once the storm is gone; however, their plan was made null by the healing power that naturally comes with body modification.

“...I don’t think we’ll be getting out of this situation, unless we pry out their limbs or a rib or spine or two.”

“...How I hate the fact that I can’t help but agree with you there.”

The outcome was beyond Tao and M-21’s expectation, probably because of Yuhyung’s adjustment.

Nevertheless, they presumed the healing power that surfaced within the victims would be below average.

After all, the project on which their modification was based off was classified as failure and ultimately canceled.

So just like M-21 said, the victims would not be able to recover the loss of a limb or skeletal structure.

Nonetheless, Tao and M-21 could not dare harm them; the only thing they have done wrong, if they have done anything wrong, was staying overnight to fully dedicate themselves to their duties.

It was not the question of post-measurements, already guaranteed by KSA and Frankenstein; it was the question of morals.

M-21’s and Tao’s faces stiffened as the victims dragged their feet towards them, the two men cornered in the room.

Just then, one of the agents bumped shoulders with a researcher closest to him, from which the situation took a precipitous downfall.

Slash!

Chomp!

The agent made a violent lash at the researcher’s face, and the researcher countered by rooting his teeth into the agent’s shoulder with full power.

Which served as a cue for the rest of the victims to tackle and thwack and open their mouths wide at one another.

Tao and M-21 turned pale as they watched how a scene from fratricidal zombie movie was being played live, their minds becoming numb with shock as the floor being slowly freed from gas was now being plastered with victims’ blood.

They threw themselves in the middle to separate the victims from each other, and that was when their communicators finally vibrated with life.

<Tao! M-21! Do you copy?!>

“Takio? Where are you? What in the world is keeping you? And why did you have to wait to...”

<What is going on? What’s wrong with these people?>

Tao and M-21 met each other in the eyes for a moment at how alarmed Takio sounded.

Then their memories rang the bell for them – the corridors of KSA were not the only area under the effect of Yuhyung’s gas.

“Don’t tell me... Are there people whose body went through modification? Shoot, I was hoping it’d take time for the gas to spread!”

<It’s not far from KSA’s HQ, but what on earth is going on? And what do you mean, body modification? I’m sure these people are civilians!>

“We’ll talk about this later! First, get over here! We could really use a hand or two right now!”

Knowing Takio, they anticipated him to fly over on the double, although they ended up acting individually, a rare occasion to begin and to continue.

Notwithstanding, there was a reason why Murphy’s law was ever coined.

<Uh... I’m afraid as of now I’m... Ugh!>

Swoosh!

Pow!

Their ears whirring upon the sonic boom so very tangible despite the distance secured by the communicators, Tao and M-21 gaped each other with their eyes trembling.

“Takio? What’s going on?!”

“Are you also under the civilian attack?”

<No! It’s the Union! I ran into two of them on my way. One of them happens to be that big guy we saw in the footage we pieced back together from the security camera outside the safehouse that was destroyed. And the other one is a woman with...>

“...Orange hair and cerulean eyes?”

<H-how did you know?>

“Takio, that’s the one!”

“That’s the woman Miss Lunark mistook for Kespar! The one who plotted against Frankenstein in joint with the 3rd Elder!”

“Hang in there. We’re coming in...!”

M-21 and Tao stomped their legs in a halt, in the middle of their sprint carrying the violently struggling people, partitioned with their arms and shoulders.

As soon as they turned the last corner connected to the nearest lab, they saw how the tiles were barely visible due to countless people with abnormal builds.

“Impossible! There’s no way such number would be remaining at this hour!”

“Tao, look at them.”

M-21 directed Tao’s eyes towards the side, where three men and women were yanking each other with their mouths like hyenas that fasted for a month.

“Look what they’re wearing. They’re no agents. Or employees.”

“Are they civilians...? Did some of them trespass?!”

Tao bellowed in dismay, which unfastened the door that was keeping the avalanche of trouble from stampeding towards them.

“Grrr...”

“Krr...”

The blood-shot eyes of people who were busy taking a bite or grab out of anyone within their reach darted glances towards M-21 and Tao.

Not long after, the artificially modified humans lunged towards the two RK’s like a pack of rabid dogs that have spotted a target, a phenomenon propagating outside KSA.

“W-what the hell?!”

“Argh! Mommy!”

“H-help me! Somebody please he... Aaaah!!!”

People who have never consented to their monstrous changes spread out from the street housing KSA’s headquarter, to hunt down innocent citizens, paving the streets with blood and gore.

Which Yuhyung was watching through his device, via the cameras attached upon interior and exterior of the KSA building.

His hands gripping the device quaked, and he hurriedly pulled out a communicative device he would keep asleep unless he has to talk to Helga.

<Oh, hey. So how’s the plan go...>

“What the heck is going on?!?!”

Yuhyung shrieked, as if he were forcing his guts out through his throat, as soon as Helga’s pointed-as-always voice hit his eardrums.

And her response successfully blew up his half-powdered mind.

<What’s the yelling for? Is there a problem?>

She sounded so very placid, whereas her voice was toned up and down deliberately, as if she had seen this coming.

“Problem? Problem is an understatement!!! You know what is... I mean, you are seeing and hearing what is going on! You said you’ll make your way to KSA, so you should know very well what’s...”

<Oh, yes. I know. Of course I do. In fact, I’ve known it for quite long.>

“...What...?!”

Yuhyung’s quivering voice listlessly scattered into thin air, like a ball of dirt caught in the wind.

<I’ve never told you, have I? I mean the reason why this project the data I gave you came from was labeled as failure and canceled. Well, you were too excited to get your hands on the data and didn’t even bother to ask.>

Helga did mention that the project has a side effect, but he heeded not much, since the way she spoke of the side effect gave impression that it is no big deal.

Still, like she said, he was so thrilled back then to at last gain the Union data he had been thirsting for.

His thoroughness, a must-have value for anyone affiliated with investigation, was discarded temporarily, as he was too occupied with letting his elation jingle his entire universe, like popping champagne open.

And when he later examined the data, he could not find anything in particular in terms of side effect, so he had forgotten about it, until now.

<That’s right. What you’re seeing as we speak is the side effect of this project. The subjects that experience rapid body modification lose the ability to tell their friends from foes. Whenever they see something living and moving, they will first and foremost react by driving their teeth and nails into flesh. And if they are devoid of lifeform around them, they will slash and masticate and take apart their own bodies.>

Instantly, Yuhyung felt as if the entire world spun right into his chest; the entire world turned into a stone of immeasurable size and unimaginable weight, smashing his heart into pieces and plummeting towards his core.

<Did you honestly think I’ll forfeit a complete, safe technology to someone like you? We’d rather die than to suffer a humiliation of allowing vermin like you walking on par with us!>

Helga snickered, stage-choking herself.

<Anyways, congratulations. You made your wish come true – turning non-modified into modified. And now, you’d get to collect as much data as you’d want, like picking apples under the falling leaves!>

Helga sneered as she smiled in vile entertainment and sinister glee, and Yuhyung could only make out his mind escaping far away from him as he watched her.

And the horror spreading throughout Seoul, delivered to his device in divided screens, did not stop assaulting his calm.

No...

This isn’t what I wanted......

I’ve never asked for something like this......!

<And now excuse me. There’s something that compels me to make myself unavailable for now.>

After peeking at something that was not accessible for sight from Yuhyung’s side, Helga cut off the signal, to restrain Kornel once more.

“I’d thought I told you to be prudent!”

“Oh, come on! Can’t you stop stopping me now?! We’re going to kill him anyways!”

“I would have let you, if it were someone else. But that’s Takio we’re facing – the one Sol told us. Takio of DA-5.”

“What? That’s him?”

“Precisely. We assumed it’d take a miracle for him to stand against Aris, let alone beat her. But he not only deleted her existence but also decided to put himself against us. Do I have to explain what we could achieve if we manage to apply the secret of his growth to us?”

“Okay, okay. I got it. Geez. But you don’t mind me beating him up just enough to leave him battered but breathing, do you?”

“Actually, that’d be more than welcome. There’s no telling what will unfold if we don’t go that far to capture him.”

This was certainly not a pleasant situation for Takio, about to battle two Union agents when immediately surrounding him was a scene from a common disaster movie.

His fingers poised upon the triggers, waiting for his order, were strained with pressure.

(next chapter)

So in summary, there are 3 battles taking place at the same time: (1) Takio (ft. Tao & M-21) vs Helga and Kornel, (2) Rael vs Deneb (with Yuhyung), and (3) Lunark vs Dark Spear. As I am posting this chapter, I finished composing part 1 of this battle. And once I’m done with the remaining parts, I’ll finally move on to the finale of this fic. I already know what I’m going to write, and I can’t wait to reach there lol. I’ll do my best as I take this fic to its ending!

[siancore]

A/N: This is a collab between @thematsaidwelcome79 and I. It details Rick's return to ASZ after six years of everyone thinking he was dead

Part 1: Prologue by Siancore

Words: 1,986

Warnings: Typical Zombie Apocalypse Violence; Blood; and Gore.

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The cool water slid down Rick’s throat. It hurt a little, as he swallowed too much at once; the reprieve felt almost foreign. He could not remember the last time he had been given something to drink. His captors liked to remind him that being an ingrate in their community did not go unpunished. It was not that Rick was ungrateful for the help, because he truly was. They had saved his life when he was on the brink of death. They had lifted him to safety, and, as they so bluntly put it, wasted valuable resources on him; resources that could have gone to someone else. Someone who would have appreciated the help. Someone who would have wanted to stay and work off the debt that they owed. But Rick Grimes did not want to stay. He wanted to go home to Michonne and Judith; he needed to go home to his family. He was not an ingrate, but rather, a man who wanted to be with his wife and daughter.

 That was almost six years ago. Six heartbreaking, lonely years. It crushed his heart just to acknowledge how long it had been. Not a single day passed where he did not miss his girls. Not a single day passed where he had not longed for them; where he wished he had done things differently. Where he wished he would have spent more time with them, and less time at the bridge. Where he hoped and prayed that they were safe. They had to be. He knew Michonne would do everything in her power to make sure they were.

 Judith. His precious child whom he swore to always protect. Whom he had hoped to be there with, every step of the way. His daughter who did not deserve this world she was thrust into. He missed her little smile. He missed the way that she felt in his embrace; how she looked at him with such adoration that it caused his heart to swell with pride, and hurt at the same time because all he ever wanted to do was live for her.

 Michonne. His heart ached for her, knowing that she most likely thought he had died. She had lost so much, too much. It saddened him deeply that he was putting her through the grief of losing yet another person she loved. He missed the way she felt wrapped in his arms. How her kisses breathed new life into him again and yet again. How she was smart and strong and wanted the best for their little family.

 Thoughts of them are what kept Rick going on those harsh days and those long and lonely nights. When he had first arrived, he was unconscious. He spent months in a coma, he was told. They had kept him alive and cared for him. When he had woken, he was disoriented and remembered nothing of what led to him being there.

 As time passed, he grew strong, regained his memories, and healed; he recalled seeing all of the people he had cared for. The ones who were long gone, and the ones who were still living. And then that explosion. The destruction of the bridge, and the sacrifice of his life, to save everyone else. When he was feeling particularly low, he would curse himself for giving so much. But then he would regain composure and realize he had done the right thing. He had saved them.

 Yet it was not lost on Rick that the cost to himself was great. Though his family was safe, they were without him, and he was without them. That is what fuelled him and his urge to leave the community. When he was well enough to work, they asked him to. Jadis asked him to. Her being allowed to stay, it seemed, was riding on Rick’s cooperation and willingness to toil and sweat as a form of recompense.

 He reminded her that he had a family back in Alexandria; this meant very little to her. He knew she was a selfish person, but this was another level of malice. He reminded himself that she should meet a swift end if ever he was afforded to opportunity to do so. With each failed attempt at escape; with each subsequent beating and imprisonment, Rick grew more determined to free himself of the walls of this prison dressed up as civilization. But he needed to be smart. They had locked him away for long enough, now he would convince them he was ready to join the workforce.

 Presently, he found himself being given food and water. He would play the grateful prisoner for a time, even agree to work their fields, until it was time for him to make his move. Jadis stood at the other side of the small cell and watched him. He chewed the food slowly, so he did not choke, and hoped it would be enough to give his some physical strength.

 “You don’t have to spend the rest of your life in here,” she said. He said nothing. It was the same message she delivered each and every time she visited. “There’s work to be done; debts to be paid, if you’re ready to do what’s needed without trying to get away, they will have you. They will let you out of this shithole.”

 Rick washed his food down with the water she brought with her. He then looked up and met her eyes. Determination rose in his aching stomach until it seeped through his tired bones and flowed through his veins. He cleared his throat and said, barely above a whisper, “I’m ready.”

…..

The sun was bright and it burned his eyes. Being locked away in the dark cell did not help to maintain his eyesight. It took a moment to adjust to being outdoors in that daylight again. A guard stayed with Rick while he went to wash up. The dirt and grime fell from his weary body and the cold water rejuvenated him. As he found his bearings, he remembered that the prison cells were near the agricultural fields, and the sprawling community was off in the distance.

 Rick slicked his long curls back, and ran his hand over his thick, mostly-white beard. He would not waste time visiting a barber, for half of the day was already gone. Instead, he chose to begin to work the fields. If he did that for a week or so, maybe the powers that be would be more lax with the security detail; maybe they would be fooled into thinking he was ready to repay them for their so-called hospitality and kindness.

…..

With each day that passed, Rick grew stronger. With each day, he was able to take note of the routines of the guards, and identify if there were any structural weaknesses in the walls: There were none, but off in one of the corners, the barrier was low. What he understood of this community was that it was part of a larger network. No one told him where he was in the world; no one told how far he was from home. It was something of a security measure against those whom the community had acquired.

 It was the end of another workday, a few weeks into his duties, and Rick was packing away the farming implements and chemicals he was using. The guards’ watchful eyes were never far away, so there was no way he could take one of the tools back to the cells with him. As he brushed his curls from his brow, he had an idea. It just might work, too, he mused, if he could get word to the other prisoners and gain their support. Upon approaching one of the guards, he put forth his request.

 “Do you think I’d be able to see the barber tonight?” asked Rick as he ran his hand through his mess of curls. “Didn’t realize how much of a bitch it was to let my hair get so long.”

The guard eyed him, and then nodded his head before saying, “Yeah. Don’t see why not. I’ll send him around after meal time.”

“Thanks,” said Rick as he ambled toward the mess hall to have dinner and spread a few whispers of dissent.

…..

The thing about the prison block in the community was that it was only guarded by two people at any time: One on the inside, and the other at the outer door. It was their own hubris about the fortitude of their infrastructure that accounted for this somewhat relaxed approach. Rick was going to use it to his advantage.

 He waited in his cell for the barber to come; upon their arrival, Rick played the willing punter in need of a cut and shave. He backed away from the cell door when the sentry unlocked it, and took up a seat on the stool the barber brought in.

 “Yell if you need anything,” said the guard as he closed the door and left the two men inside the cell. Rick noticed it was not locked. They would be foolish to lock someone in there with a prisoner. There was no way they would even entertain letting a prisoner go with a hostage. Luckily, Rick had no intentions of taking a hostage.

 “What’d you need?” asked the barber as he sharpened his straight razor on the leather strap attached to his bag.

 “Get rid of the beard,” said Rick. “But leave the curls, my wife loves them. She’ll want to run her fingers through them when I break free from this place and find her.”

 “Eh?” asked the barber.

 As quickly as he grew confused, Rick was on him and had freed the razor from his grasp. He used it to slice it across the barber’s neck. His limp body fell to the dusty floor as the people in the cells next to Rick started yelling and banging on their cages. The guards were back there in no time, one before the other. Rick rammed the freshly sharpened blade into the first guard’s stomach, before disembowelling him. He moved to the next guard and kicked him in the shin, effectively breaking his leg just below the knee. He cried out in pain and dropped to the floor before Rick took the razor from the other guard’s still-writhing corpse, and slit his throat. He searched their bodies for the keys and took one lot for himself, and gave the others to the other prisoners.

 Havoc ensued as everyone ran from the block to make their escape. They used chemicals on hand to fuel the fires; they set the cellblock and the crops alight. Some dashed for the fences and ran for the walls. Others wanted retribution for their captivity and were intent on doing as much damage as they could. It took some time before alarms were sounded and the police force came. Rick hid over near one of the tool sheds and watched the chaos unfurl. While the authorities were busy with chasing down escapees and extinguishing fires, Rick crept away to the quiet corner of the yard and scaled the fence in the place where it was lowest. 

 By the time the fires were put out and the prisoners were either captured or killed, Rick was running furiously through the abandoned streets of the outlying surrounds. He ran until his legs felt like they would give way. He ran until his lungs hurt. He ran until he could no longer smell the smoke from the fires. He ran until his body was so heavy that it collapsed to the soft dirt on the side of a sealed road. He willed himself to stand and figure out where he was. In the moonlight, he was able to see a sign that read: Welcome to Ohio. So much to discover…