#this is kind of borderline zombie au

[breezypunk]

Well that escalated quickly..

AKA, they were both turned on by that a little too much.

[corinthianism]

DON'T THEY KNOW? (IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD) || BENEDICT BRIDGERTON (1)

pairing: benedict bridgerton/fem!reader additional tags: zombie apocalypse au, graphic depictions of gore/violence, fluff, angst, biology stuff i just made up so it's probs super inaccurate lol, slow burn, friends to lovers summary: ravaged by a relentless virus, the world as you knew it falls into ruin. survivors are hardened by the blood on their hands and the horrors in their minds. amidst the end of everything, benedict proves that there is still hope, and perhaps something more, for the two of you. word count: 6.4k

author's note: welcome to the first part of my new zombie au series with our boy benedict! for those who don't know, this is based entirely on the fic "i'll be seeing you" by @eleanor-bradstreet! thanks again to them for letting me vomit up this fic based on their incredible one <333 anyway, this chapter is mostly exposition, so most of the benedict/you romance will really start in the succeeding parts. hopefully, you find this chapter interesting enough to stick around! (+for readers of my dean winchester series, don't worry! chapter 3 will come out soon!)

masterlist | series masterlist | ao3 | next chapter

CHAPTER ONE: HERE, IN THE END

The world had been so loud before.

The droning noise of traffic. Of the intermingling of a thousand phone calls, nestled in between cheeks and shoulders. Of people talking at each other, screaming over each other, fighting to get the final say in even the tiniest little thing. Everything blurred together into one great ocean of sound. You could drown in it, especially in the big cities.

You were right in the middle of it all: a drifter. It took a while but eventually, that ocean of sound became your home. You struggled to recall what it was like before that. That too, was blurry now along with everything else from Before. All you had now were fading fragments of a dream to be someone. Anyone.

That was how you met him, just before the beginning of the end. You still weren’t convinced that Benedict Bridgerton wasn’t some kind of romance novel character come to life; a talented artist from a long line of English nobility, and the first friend you ever made in New York. It was like something out of a crappy Hallmark movie. He laughed at your reaction upon learning that his brother was an actual viscount and that Benedict himself technically should be referred to as “the Honourable Benedict Bridgerton”, but despite all the grandeur that came with his heritage, Benedict was still… Benedict. In time, he became just Ben. He’d paint while you ranted about your borderline dangerous work hours or how your parents were bugging you to settle down. In turn, he shared with you his frustrations as an artist trying to make it in the world, without his family name, and how at the same time he missed his mother’s cooking. Conversations with him were always lovely, like breathing in the air in the middle of a field of flowers after a decade of being locked inside a dark, stuffy room. He was just like you. Just trying to be someone.

But those conversations all seemed so far away now. If you had known then what would become of your life, of those dreams to be someone, maybe you would’ve just let yourself drown in that ocean of sound. 

It only took two weeks for the world to fall into ruin. Only fourteen days for everything to go up in flames. 

The virus was ruthless. The most efficient killer the likes of which no one had ever seen. A terrifying force of nature seemingly tailored for the extinction of humanity. You were right in the middle of it all. You saw it with your own eyes, a cluster of people beginning to form in Times Square. With New York being New York, you thought nothing of it. You walked away none the wiser.

Until you heard someone scream, a gut-wrenching, visceral scream, followed by a sound you would never forget. A sound you’d have to hear over and over again for the better part of the next ten years, though you didn’t know it yet at the time: teeth ripping flesh from bone and the primal snarls accompanying it that couldn’t have been anything except inhuman. Monstrous, even. It sent ripples into the great big ocean you called home, altering it so permanently just seconds before you even realized what was happening. 

Sound, quickly followed by sight. 

The people huddled on the outer edges of the crowd ran off in terror, revealing the gruesome remains of what used to be a person. Even that was something you barely registered at first, eyes too focused on the bloody mouths feasting on it and white, foggy eyes. One of those things stopped its chewing, head snapping up suddenly. It sniffed the air for a while, as if sensing your fear even from twenty feet away. Those white eyes were looking at you now. Staring you down. Seconds later, the corpse being eaten started writhing back to life, or a perverted version of it. Its jaw was skewed, perpetually stuck wide open as drool and blood ran down its chin. You weren’t someone then. If your body hadn’t gone into autopilot, legs taking you as far away as they could, you would’ve been one of them. That was the very first day of what would be the longest two weeks of your life. You remembered it well.

There was no time to think or breathe. Even when your chest hurt from overexerting yourself and your lungs screamed for a break, you ran. You ran as fast as you could, crashing into people, some of which were still unaware of the horrors spreading just a block away from them. In the corner of your eyes, you knew that there were others like you, scrambling to go home, to go anywhere but here. Cars stopped in the middle of the road, curiosity killing the cat as drivers left their vehicles to see what was going on, only to be met with the same sight you were: death. In only a few minutes, nearly a third of the people on the streets were running, too. 

A little girl cried in her father’s arms, a teddy bear left behind and forgotten on the cement road as they also tried to get away. The realization dawning on the faces of onlookers that they should be doing the same. 

You reached your apartment building, not really knowing what you would do next, just that you needed to get away. The hallways were empty. A part of you hoped Ben was far, far away from here. A more selfish part of you hoped otherwise.

Supplies. You needed supplies. Food, clothes, water. Emergency kit, tools, weapons. Weapons. You had no fucking idea what to do with any of this! Just yesterday, you held a steady, if not miserable, office job. Today, you had to survive against whatever-the-hell those things were and perhaps even other people. The weight of that sudden realization twisted your guts in a sickening way, enough to make you almost throw up.

Peeking through your blinds, there were already three or four ambulances rushing to the direction of Times Square.Those things were not here yet and still, you naively hoped that help would come and dispatch of them before it got out of control. 

You barely noticed the sweat that began to trickle down your forehead and back, hairs raising out of instinct. Your whole body was going into overdrive, hyper-aware of the fact that you were in danger. 

The rapid knocking on your door nearly frightened you to death, until you heard Ben’s desperate calls of your name. Out of breath and scared… much like you. You wondered if he had seen it, too. When you confirmed through the peephole that it was, in fact, him, you dragged him inside your apartment. Your hands were on his face as soon as he was inside, needing to know that he was here, he was with you, he was alive. It seemed he had the same need, icy blue eyes taking you in with such an intensity you’d only ever seen when he was painting. It was easy to feel small under his gaze.

“Are you alright?” he breathed heavily, larger hands covering your own. 

You could only nod, the words stuck in your throat, “Did you- did you see-”

“I saw them,” he said, his composure faltering for a split second. “I saw them.”

You could hear more sirens outside, one after another, disrupting the ocean you had grown so familiar with. Louder and louder. 

“We need to leave, get out of New York,” he ran a hand through his hair, eyes moving wildly as he tried to come up with a plan. It was the Bridgerton in him: the bravery of his father, the gentleness of his mother. It didn’t need to be said out loud that the moment he saw those things, all he could think of was you. Getting to you and getting you safe. His only true friend in this city. It took all of fifteen minutes before you were out the door, nearly overwhelmed by the swarm of people all running away from Times Square. Ben held your hand tightly, and you did your best not to look behind you.

The sun was beginning to set, wrapping the city in a bright orange light. It felt ominous somehow, so unlike every other time you’d seen it. Like this was some form of judgment. As if at any moment, you’d hear the seven trumpets telling you that this was the end. You learned later on that you weren’t the only one that thought that. Bile threatened to rise in your throat when the shadows of night grew with each passing second. It felt like it was going to swallow you alive.

The road was packed full of people, crying and yelling and praying for salvation. Ants begging to get away from the magnifying glass only to be burned anyway.

The screams grew louder and against your better judgment, you looked back. You were too far away to see everything clearly, and because Ben was constantly pulling you forward, but you could make out the smaller swarm of walking corpses slowly coming into view. The poor souls who weren’t able to keep up with the main crowd were dragged away to be bitten, spreading the godforsaken disease. More and more bodies littered the streets, staining the concrete with the blood of dozens. Then, not even a minute later, they would rise with jaws gnashing and wide white eyes, their humanity lost forever.

Your legs felt so heavy, as did the rest of you. If it weren’t for Ben’s ferocious determination to get out of the city and to keep the both of you safe, you wouldn’t have survived that first day at all. Helicopters flew above and across the city, the whooshing of its blades mingling with the screams. The ocean of sound was threatening to drown you. You didn’t look up anymore. It would’ve shattered you if you had, because you knew there weren’t nearly enough choppers to save everyone in the city. It was impossible. Your heart broke for all the people, all the someones, who were dead long before they could even fight for the chance to live.

The sky was dark now.

By some miracle, you reached the army’s barricade. Soldiers ushered people to safety, including you and Ben. You squeezed his hand, causing him to look at you for a moment. A temporary reprieve from that day’s horrors. His fair skin was shiny with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead like black tendrils. It was like everything slowed down, but maybe it was all just in your head. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell. The moment was cut short when you heard an explosion from behind you. Your head snapped to the direction of the noise, so did Ben’s, and the “small swarm” of the undead from before had multiplied to thrice its size in the short few minutes you spent running away. 

Gunfire rang in your ears once the monsters got a little too close for the army’s liking, but the crowds of the living and the undead had already begun to mix by that point. Bullets meant to pierce rotting flesh ended up killing people who were very much alive and uninfected. You could only watch, from behind the barricade of soldiers, the people in the perpetually moving crowd who would stop once they realized their loved ones were no longer beside them. You could only watch when the body of a child (belonging to the same little girl you saw earlier that day, you realized grimly) was forcefully torn from the arms of her father when a soldier spotted the bite mark on her leg, bleeding and angry. Her plump, tear-stained cheeks that were once symbols of her youth and innocence were ruined by a sickly green that rose to the surface, emphasizing violet veins that always looked like it was crawling, spreading just underneath the skin. Then, she was one of them. Writhing, bones cracking. There was no recognition in her cloudy eyes when her father begged for his baby girl to come back to him. 

Ben held you tighter, his hand cradling your head as the other soldiers evacuated as many people as they could.

“We need to go,” he pleaded, still firmly holding on to you as you were both pushed around by the crowd. “Please, love, just look at me.”

So you did. Those eyes, brilliant and blue and full of worry, were the only things that pulled you back down to Earth. Tears were shed and prayers were whispered on the chopper that whisked you away from New York. A couple hundred feet into the air, you could see the city crumble. You remembered briefly wondering how many bodies were left behind or how many turned into one of those things.  

Everything changed in those first fourteen days of the Outbreak. Eighty percent of the world’s population had been wiped out, unprepared to face a force so vicious. That was how effective the virus was, which was later dubbed the “Gaia Virus”. Mother Nature’s wrath.

The survivors in the States were brought to “safe zones” all over the country, areas barren and isolated enough that the Infected, which mostly stayed in the previously overpopulated cities and towns, were unlikely to get to them. The first few months after the Outbreak were spent being transferred to different safe zones, never staying for more than a week at a time.  

At first, the safe zones were supposed to be a temporary refuge for survivors. The government, or what was left of it, promised to reclaim the cities within a year and make them habitable again. Then a year passed, and they said it would take them another year. So another year passed and they said the same thing. Over and over until… radio silence. No one brought it up again. The few who did were not treated kindly by the rest of the survivors. 

Most people caught onto the memo fairly quickly, with soldiers and generals making up the new leadership hierarchy of the safe zones in place of politicians and peacemakers: you keep your head down, you do as you’re told, and you’ll get food and water and blankets.

The people brave (or stupid) enough to make a scene were never heard from again by the next week.

So there you were, moving across the country, going from state to state and living off of food rations and hope. Both were two resources that were steadily depleting. Benedict was there with you through it all, your steadfast companion. Conversations about surrealism and horrible bosses turned into questions about whether or not your friends and families were safe, if they had made it to the safe zones. That was the first time you saw him cry, not able to withstand the possibility that his beloved mother and siblings were gone, perhaps now part of the Infected. Even if they survived, he knew there was a slim chance he would ever see them again. He cursed himself sometimes, him and his foolish need to be someone. If he had stayed in Kent, if he just settled down like his brothers, perhaps he would still be with them today. But his mother was the kindest woman he had ever known and he knew deep down that she forgave him long before he realized what he’d done. He knew they all did.

Grief was your (and Ben’s) constant state of being. It weighed you down on most days, making your feet dig deeper into the dirt when you walked. On some days, it was all-consuming. It was the only reason most survivors rarely caused any trouble. As horrible as humans could be to each other, this shared grief that echoed through the hearts of everyone was translated into little acts of kindness that, at the best of times, were life-saving. To be given a drop of water by a woman dying of thirst. To be offered a piece of bread by a man whose stomach rumbled louder than his voice. More often than not, it was always the eldest survivors that did this. Perhaps it was because they knew that they had already lived long, fulfilling lives. Perhaps it was because they knew Death was already at their door, so they might as well help someone else live.

Of course, there would always be people looking out for themselves, you and Ben had expected that from the get go, but it still surprised you how much compassion a person could still have at the end of the world. It didn’t happen too often though, but the times that it did were memories you held close to your heart.

The days went by, often cruel and unforgiving to those who couldn’t adjust to the new reality, but Ben still found ways to make you smile. 

“It’s the artist in me,” he said to you one night, three years after the Outbreak, when you had asked him how he could bear to still be so… him. There was a secluded spot you two often escaped to whenever there was a need for it, a small cliff at the edge of the safe zone. You were both slightly tipsy from whiskey you traded some radio parts for. “The whole world’s gone to shit and I can’t help but still find it somewhat beautiful. It’s like a movie, isn’t it? Two friends at the end of the world— and besides, what else are we supposed to do? Wallow in self-pity? I think you and I do enough of that.”

The sun was beginning to set, something you had grown to dislike since that first day. You decided to lie down for a moment, uncaring if bits of soil got in your hair. You closed your eyes, trying to just be. You didn’t always get the opportunity to do that anymore.

“Look,” he nudged your side after a while, his accent slurring a little as he pointed at something. You raised a brow at him, now-open eyes following what his finger was pointing at. The sky. It was pitch black, but a splash of stars covered the heavens like a mural. You had never seen that many stars before, certainly not in the cities you’d lived in your whole life. Ben sighed and your attention was back on him. “You couldn’t see them as clearly back home, but I used to stargaze often with my siblings.”

“That sounds lovely,” you whispered.

“It was.”

The two of you were silent for a while, just sitting on that patch of dirt, overlooking the vast lands that spread as far as the eye can see. That was how isolated these safe zones were. The gentle night breeze tickled your skin. 

“I haven’t really looked at the sky properly since the Outbreak,” you confessed, slumping in your seat. “I think it makes me feel small. And sad. Look at us. Our tiny little planet, how fucked up everything is. Look at us. And there’s a whole universe out there that’s completely indifferent to everything that goes on down here.”

“It’s humbling,” he hummed in understanding. “To be a speck in a great big universe yet feeling a whole universe worth of emotion.”

“That’s good,” you chuckled. “Very poetic.”

He grinned at you, cheeks flushed slightly, “I try.”

Another bout of silence.

“Thank you, by the way.” 

“Whatever for, love?” he raised a brow in curiosity, his tone soft. It always was.

“For being here,” you took a deep breath. “For sticking around.”

His smile shone brighter when he heard this, his hand finding its way around yours. “You’d be mad to think I’d ever leave you here. If anything, you’re stuck with me. I’m just—” he cleared his throat. “I’m just sorry that… that it has to be like this. Drifting, never staying too long in one place to be able to call it a home. You deserve more. You deserve better.”

“You say that like it’s your fault,” your hand squeezed his in hopes of bringing him some comfort. “I’m not gonna lie and say we’re doing alright because we honestly look like shit”—that earned you a hearty chuckle from him—”but we’re doing better than most. And that’s because we’ve had each other all this time. That’s one of the things I was thanking you for. None of this on you, Ben. You deserve more, too. You hear me?”

He straightened his back and flashed you a soft smile, “I hear you.”

The two of you looked back up at the sky, admiring the twinkling of millions of stars. You were somewhere in Arizona, according to the other survivors. Soldiers kept the exact location under lock and key to dissuade survivors from sharing it with others who were still out in the open world. There just wasn’t enough room. But you had a feeling that it had more to do with the risk of attracting Infected. Limited armada and manpower meant the military was just unable to handle that kind of scenario.

You learned more about the Infected over time, having worked odd jobs for the military for more food, water, or supplies. Even something as simple as filtration duty on Tuesdays earned you tidbits of information.

From what you could piece together in the past couple of years, the Gaia Virus most likely came from melting glaciers and ice caps, triggered by global warming. It polluted bodies of water across the world, eventually making its way into reservoirs undetected. It was the perfect way to spread. Nobody can last more than three days without water, so the virus made sure no one would last at all. Once fully turned, Infected were nearly perfect killers. Soldiers sometimes told stories of their encounters with them. They were completely blind, though that much was obvious from the milkiness of their eyes. Infected also didn’t react to any physical damage done to them. Whether or not they felt it was a different story. With possibly two of their senses out of the picture, the rest were heightened. They could hear and smell better than people. If prey were close enough, all those things had to do was follow the scent trail. The fact that these monsters could perceive things humans could barely register was a terrifying thought.

Bodies of Infected retrieved from the destroyed cities were studied, Ben himself had seen this on one such odd job. The virus kills its host before taking over the body, this much was known. However, the brain was shown to endure, preventing the more advanced stages of decomposition. It raised questions about whether or not hosts really died, or if a tiny part of them still lived on even as they transformed into flesh-eating beasts. You’ve heard whispers that it was more like the brain sent constant streams of adrenaline even after death, keeping the body going long after it was supposed to fall apart and rot. True or not, it was the only explanation you had.

You’d seen your fair share of people who’ve fallen victim to a bite; doomed to have their life snuffed out as soon as that was discovered, whether that was by execution or dying to the virus. 

The time it took to die after being bitten was different for everyone. Some died within minutes, others within hours. The longest one you’d seen was a soldier brought back to the Detroit safe zone after a patrol gone wrong. A stray Infected had sensed him and attacked him during the night, leaving a massive bite on his shoulder. He fought so fiercely against the symptoms of the fever, hovering between life and death for nearly an entire day before finally succumbing to the virus. You couldn’t forget how pale he was when he was wheeled into the makeshift camp on a gurney, watching the life be drained out of him in real time. He was shot in the head by his comrades as soon as he turned. The event shook everyone. The disappearances began shortly after that.

The people who spoke up against the military drew the ire of everyone: the military didn’t tolerate people who questioned their authority and everyone else just wanted to mind their own business. When these undesirables began to disappear, everyone chalked it up to them just being hard-headed. The popular theory was they got sick of the military’s iron grip and decided to leave the safe zone, and then probably died. Nobody took it too seriously. Nobody could have done anything about it anyway. Everyone was just focused on staying alive. 

Cooper was another survivor in the Arizona safe zone. You and Ben had been there for a month, and he was the first and only person to welcome you with open arms. He was a lanky man, and had blond hair and kind, brown eyes. Only a few years younger than you. He was the jovial type, often inviting you and Ben to tag along with him on whatever job he found earlier that day. His Boston accent was unmistakable, often getting stronger when offered liquor. 

He was also in strong opposition to the militant lifestyle in the safe zones, though he knew better than to broadcast his distaste. Cooper joined you and Ben on the night the two of you were stargazing, eyes wide in terror. You had never seen him like that before. He was always one to stay optimistic, which was a wonder considering the state of the world. Cooper looked like he ran to get to you, his damp tattered shirt sticking to his body.

He grabbed you by your shoulders, fingertips digging into your skin deep enough to make you wince all while a jumble of words were frantically spewing out of his mouth. Ben immediately got up, nearly growling at Cooper for hurting you, “Get your hands off them.”

It seemed as though Ben’s warning briefly snapped Cooper back to reality, because the man did pull away but his hands still trembled violently.

“What’s wrong?” you furrowed your brows in worry, unused to seeing Cooper in such a state.

“You need to get out of here,” it felt like there was something darker lingering behind his words. He looked at Ben. “You need to go.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Ben cut him off, his protectiveness from before calming down when he finally noticed the genuine panic and fear in Cooper’s eyes. “Tell us what’s happening.”

The poor man looked like he was ready to explode right then and there. He was practically soaked in his own sweat, both from the exhaustion of running to get to you and Ben, and the shock of the news he brought, it seemed.

“They were taking them,” he choked back tears, his feet stuck to the ground. His nostrils were flaring from how hard he was breathing.

“Who, Coop? Who’s taking who?” this time it was your hands on his shoulders, though your touch was gentle, trying to keep him grounded. 

“The soldiers,” he whispered, his voice grim. “We- we thought they were executing them for questioning the army but I saw them! I saw them. In the big tent. They’re trying… they’re trying to make a vaccine.”

The severity of his tone reminded you all too much of Ben at your doorstep on that very first day of the Outbreak.

Ben’s surprise was palpable, “What?”

“A vaccine,” Cooper stressed, each breath he drew was ragged (you could hear it from how close he was standing to you), “but it’s not working. I saw the bodies. Whatever they’re doing, it’s torture— you should’ve seen them. They infected them on purpose.”

Your blood went cold, like liquid nitrogen shocking your system. That’s what the army had been doing all this time?  It made perfect sense, but the new information flooded your brain with images of those people who went missing, strapped to a table, and being injected with the virus. If they were trying to make a vaccine, they—the test subjects—would have to have been kept alive for as long as possible, conscious of the parasite invading their body. It made your stomach churn, forcing you to step back and look away. Ben was similarly devastated, jaw clenched as he stared at Cooper. He zeroed in on a different piece of information.

There were Infected in the safe zone.

“That’s… they can’t just keep taking people,” he gritted his teeth. Cooper stayed silent. Ben spoke again, firmer and more desperate this time, “...can they?”

“Nobody’s gonna come looking for you even if they did,” Cooper said, defeated. Still breathing hard. “We’re too far away. And if the rest of the safe zones aren’t already in the same situation then they aren’t gonna waste gas to go all the way here. The soldiers here can just make up something and no one would know.”

An “oh, God” left your lips, your hands shaking, mirroring Cooper’s. From where you stood, you could see the main camp and the largest tent, the main military tent, in the middle of it. You’ve walked past it, stared at it a hundred times, and never knew what was going on inside. You found yourself asking if there was a time when you stared at that tent, and just on the other side was someone just like you being experimented on with the deadliest virus known to mankind.Your eyes stung with tears when your treacherous mind thought of Ben in that position, bruised by different needles and tubes protruding from him.

“Please, you need to go,” Cooper pleaded with the two of you desperately, his head hanging low.

“Shit,” Ben cursed under his breath, rubbing his eyes with one hand in frustration. “All of our supplies are back in the main camp.” 

“You can’t go back!”

“We’ll die out there if we don’t get those supplies,” you pointed out to the blond. “We wouldn’t last a week.”

Ben had already begun to walk back to camp, masking his anxieties to the best of his abilities if what Cooper was saying was true. You weren’t that far behind, ears ringing with Cooper’s pleas not to go back. He didn’t chase after you anymore, falling silent once he realized there was nothing he could do to change your mind. It was only a short trek from the cliff back to the main camp. The outer perimeter of the safe zone was always being patrolled by soldiers which meant, without any weapons, you would’ve been dead if you tried to escape right away. A checkpoint came into view along with the two guards, Paul and Walter, holding rifles on either side of the path. You were familiar with each other from how often you passed through this checkpoint to get to the cliff.

“Paul, Walter,” Ben smiled coolly at the guards once you were finally standing in front of them. “Late shift? I thought you’d have switched with Reese by now.”

“Higher-ups needed more men in other places, so here we are,” Paul sighed, before turning his attention to you. “You guys back at the cliff again?”

“Yeah,” you mimicked Ben, feigning a smile of your own. You still weren’t completely sure if Cooper had been telling the truth, but interacting with Paul felt different now that you knew what could’ve been happening behind closed doors. “Camp can be a little too much sometimes, y’know? No offense. Just… needed to get away for a while.”

Paul nodded in understanding. 

“Okay, you know the routine,” Walter shrugged, handing you and Ben a bloodchecker each. It was a small vial full of a blue solution, connected to a thin, replaceable tube ending with a needle. The solution would turn clear if mixed with Gaia-infected blood, and a dark muddy brown if the blood was clean. You pierced your arm with the needle, watching your blood travel through the tube and drip down into the solution, turning it brown as you had expected. Glancing over at Ben’s bloodchecker, you found that his was the same. Thankfully.

You were about to pass through the checkpoint when Walter pulled Ben aside, muttering something you couldn’t quite make out, but you saw Ben’s reaction. To anyone else, it would have seemed like he didn’t react at all. Most people only would’ve noticed his polite smile and hushed ‘thank you” to the guard before returning to your side, but you saw through it: the slightest twitch of his hand and the way his lips tightened at what Walter told him. It was so clear to you that he was bothered by it, whatever it was. 

“What was that?” you asked him, trying to keep up with his fast-paced stride.

He only spared you a single glance, only a single moment of softness, but now you were inside the central safe zone. Soldiers were standing guard in every direction. There seemed to be more of them than usual. Ben continued forward to the direction of your tent which was a bit farther from everyone else’s. He kept his voice low, “Not here.”

Your shared tent with Ben was bare. The apocalypse didn’t exactly grant you a life of luxury, but that tent was yours. It stayed the same after every new safe zone you were transferred to. Next to the two worn down single mattresses were your backpacks, one of the only things you still had from before the Outbreak besides each other. While you double-checked your supplies, making sure nothing was missing while you were gone, Ben slid one of the mattresses to the side, which was sitting on top of an old rug. He pulled that aside too, his hands digging into the soil, digging and digging until finally, you could see the lid of a crate you had buried.

The crate was filled with jugs of water. Clean, pure, uninfected water. The result of three years of patiently collecting rainwater and saving up whatever the army gave you, carefully filtering each drop throughout the night when you knew no one else would be bothering you. This water was precious. It was gold. And it was a pain to move from safe zone to safe zone. You and Ben had had to resort to bribing and lying for the past three years to make sure it was safe. 

Once you were done checking over the supplies, you knelt by Ben’s side. “So… are you gonna tell me what Walter said to you or are you gonna keep being mysterious?” you tried to keep your tone light.

“They were looking for Cooper,” his gaze didn’t leave the jugs of water. His hands, once always covered in paint, were now caked in dirt. “Said we should report him if we did.”

“What?” you questioned. “That doesn’t make any sense, everyone has to go in and out of that checkpoint to get to the cliff. There’s no way Paul and Walter didn’t see him.”

“So how could he have seen all of those supposed experiments in the main tent?” he turned to face you, his expression severe. “That tent is the most heavily guarded thing in this camp. If what he said is true, then there was no way he could’ve left and not be spotted and then somehow manage to get to us without going through the checkpoint.” 

The two of you sat in silence for a while, racking your brains for any sort of information that could help you get closer to solving this mystery. It was entirely plausible that Cooper had been lying about the experimentations and the vaccines but despite having only known him for a short while, you knew he wasn’t the type to do something like that. He wouldn’t lie about something like that. Hell, he was the kind of person that worked overtime during the apocalypse. He was an honest man.

Then you remembered something.

“It’s Tuesday today.”

Ben looked at you, puzzled, “Yes, it is… What’s going through your head, love?”

“Filtration duty,” you answered. “They filter out the water in the main tent…”

“...then dump the waste outside of camp,” Ben finished for you, eyes widening. “You think Cooper was in the main tent on purpose?”

“I mean, that’s the only explanation, right? Nothing else has left camp since last week and nobody checks a truck carrying waste. Maybe Cooper was on one of those trucks,” you said before looking back at Ben. “I… I thought I was just seeing things. Did you notice how he was earlier?”

“Out of breath from running…?” Ben frowned, not quite following your train of thought as easily as he usually did.

“He wasn’t just out of breath. He was smelling me.” 

You could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he put the pieces together. He couldn’t quite believe the conclusion he arrived at, that much you could tell, but the disbelief washed away when no other possible explanation presented itself to him.

“How?” his voice was shaky, a quiet sort of devastation clouding his features. Cooper was likely already infected earlier, though you couldn’t tell which stage of infection he was at. The signs pointed to a peculiar middleground between the fever that occurred right before death, and the grotesque reanimation once the virus had complete control over the body.

“Maybe he was telling the truth. Part of it, at least.”

You both looked back at the jugs of water, taking out a few of the smaller containers before hurriedly placing the lid back on the crate. With the crate concealed by the soil and rug, you and Ben made quick work of gathering your things, hiding the small jugs of water underneath clothes, foods, and whatever else were in your bags. 

You always made sure to have a plan in case you ever needed to leave a safe zone. The water you collected was too valuable; you had to be able to move it whenever and wherever you needed, but with all the soldiers standing guard outside, you knew this would be impossible even with all of your planning. You just had to bring what you could.

Without uttering a word, you and Ben both knew this was the last night you were ever going to spend in this place. 

-

series taglist: comment down below if you'd like to be added!

[sinner-sunflower]

P.2 HH Lucifer-centric AU 24/?

STORY 1, PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 14.5, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22, PART 23, PART 25, PART 26

------------------------------------------

The next thing Lucifer does is look for Charlie. Which is easier said than done because of the sea of bodies.

With everything happening, he can't distinguish anyone. Faces blur together.

He doesn't know where Alastor went or where the other hotel residents are fighting. Adam is also missing, but he hopes Adam is still on their side.

Charlie: Dad!

He turns to see Vaggie and Charlie approaching, covered in blood but apparently uninjured.

Vaggie: Sir, they just keep on coming! We can't fight forever!

Vaggie yells as she stabs an angel with her spear. Charlie releases sparks from her fingers to ward off anyone who gets too close, her shield protecting herself and her lover.

Charlie: Look over there!

Charlie points to a group of angels, and Lucifer recognizes one of them as the exorcist who always accompanied Adam during their meetings—the one who seemed too brutal to be an angel of Heaven.

And merciless she was as she shows no remorse in killing what looks to be part of Michael's army.

She turns to face them, her eyes glowing with a strange, otherworldly red. She looks nothing like the angels on the side of the rebellion he saw earlier.

Lucifer doesn't need to know more to put the pieces of the puzzle together.

Lucifer: What have you done?!

Lucifer demands, his voice echoing with authority.

The exorcist smiles coldly.

Lute: You of all beings should understand, Morningstar.

She spits his name like it's disgusting to even utter.

Lute: This is a purge. A cleansing of all impurities!

Lucifer stares in horror and anger at the other's outrageous reasoning.

Lucifer: You're killing your own kind!

Lute: I'm purifying Heaven!

Lute replies, voice borderline hysterical. Lucifer's fists clench in anger.

Lucifer: This is genocide. Is that all you angels know??!

She cocks her head to the side.

Lute: Call it what you will. I'm not afraid of you.

With a swift motion, Lute strikes down another angel. The fury in her eyes is unmistakable. She turns back to Lucifer, her voice filled with venom.

Lute: You killed Adam.

Lucifer: What?

Lute: You've caused me great pain so I'm here to be the cause of yours.

Lucifer, Charlie, and Vaggie exchange glances. They know reasoning with this kind of lunacy is futile. It's clear that Lute is also losing her mind due to whatever curse they're under some kind of influence. With a swift motion, Lucifer draws his sword.

Lute charges with the intent to kill, heading towards Lucifer. He was ready but then Vaggie and Charlie intercept her attack.

Lute, enraged, has dark blood trailing down her face, sending her into a frenzy. As she swings her sword, she strikes Charlie in the eye. Charlie screams in pain, clutching her bleeding eye as Vaggie springs into action to meet Lute's attacks. Vaggie's spear clashes with Lute's blade, sparks flying with each strike.

Lucifer rushes to help but is tackled by a swarm of zombie angels, pinning him to the ground.

He struggles, but there are too many on him. Despite his helplessness, he fights on, refusing to die by the hands of these abominations. Lucifer thrashes and spits fire wildly until—

A blinding light fills the battlefield. Lucifer sees everyone shield their eyes as a new figure descends from the heavens.

Michael: Enough!

The powerful voice booms. The light fades, revealing an archangel of immense stature, his presence commanding.

Lucifer: Michael..

Lucifer whispers, relief evident in his words. Maybe his brother can put a stop to this.

Michael's gaze sweeps across the battlefield, taking in the destruction. When he saw Lucifer buried under the angels, his eyes flashed with fury. He wanted to swooped in to pull off the reanimated corpses from his little brother but Lucifer yells at him to stop.

Lucifer: My daughter! Get that fucking bitch away from her!

Michael hesitates but then another figure landed beside him and began helping Lucifer.

Uriel: I got him, Michael. Go! Lute is your enemy.

Michael nods He takes off, wings beating powerfully as he zeroes in on Lute. He spots her, her sword raised high as she battles fiercely with one of his soldiers. With a mighty flap of his wings, Michael lands in front of her.

Michael: You continue to betray Heaven and everything it stands for.

Lute: You think I give a shit?!

Michael: I've been so gracious and yet you continue this foolishness.

Lute laughs, the sound cold and mocking.

Lute: Gracious? You call letting these demons live after killing Adam, your first man, gracious?

Michael's grip tightens on his sword, his knuckles white. He takes a step forward, his voice low and dangerous.

Michael: You shall meet our maker today.

Lute's smirk fades, replaced by an ugly grimace. She raises her sword, ready to face the wrath of Heaven's mightiest warrior. The battlefield seems to hold its breath as the two warriors stand poised for their fateful clash.

She got all up on his face and whispers harshly.

Lute: I don't intend to go alone.

------------------------------------------

Where's Adam when you need him

[alouiadina]

So, a while back, I made a post about a Pride and Prejudice au that I would love for someone to write. Well, I was thinking about it today when I heard someone mention Pride & Prejudice & Zombies, which got me thinking. It's, of course, going to be a little different than my idea for regular p&P. The whole idea is below the keep reading.

So, Gale, like in the other au, is Darcy. It's implied that he's like that, borderline emotionless and very particular/ruthless about taking out zombies is because of his father/parents. This could be discussed during the first zombie attack scene like the one in the movie (idk if it's in the book, I haven't read it, but I think it is)

Now to the farm.

The boys (Crosby, Ken, Brady, DeMarco, Douglass, Blakely, others) are not only work on Bucky's mother's farm along with Bucky because they want/need to, but also for protection. For one reason or another, their homes are no longer safe, and their immediate families separated/no longer living. There could be this heartbreaking thing with like Ken near the end seeing a family member on the other side of the wall. She's the one who sends them to china to start/continue their training.

The drinking that they do typically only happens during parties in places where they can safely sleep it off, or near places where they can sleep it off, like Chick and Jack's house. Otherwise, they keep it at the Egan farm, which occasionally leads to drunken sword fights (with actual swords) (the other kind of swords are used when it's DeMarco/Brady and Blakely/Douglass)

Then the town party happens when Gale, Bubbles, and Rosie move into town. Everyone knows Gale's reputation, whispering behind hands and all. The party scene pretty much the same. Rosie is taken with Ken and Bubbles is taken with Crosby. Gale does not interact with anyone, and Bucky notices, remarking to Curt that Gale must have a stick shoved up his ass.

Curt roasts Bucky for not getting anyone to dance with him, then Bucky overhears Gale insulting Bucky to either Rosie or Bubbles, and then Bucky goes outside in embarrassment, where he runs into a familiar face. Gale kills the familiar face, Bucky insisting the zombie was talking, then other zombies appear, and Bucky and his sibling-like friends go into attack mode. Bucky sees Gale watching him while also fighting other zombies and a brief thought "I may hate his guts, but I wouldn't mind him rearranging mine."

Then Ken is invited over to have lunch/tea with Bubbles, but on is way, runs into a zombie, and suffers a hand injury when his gun backfires. Then, Bucky (and in this version with the company of Crosby) go to visit Ken at what is either now Rosie or Bubbles' house. When they get there, Gale shows Bucky up to Ken while Crosby stays with Bubbles. Gale tries to prove that Ken is infected, Bucky proves otherwise.

With the Collins stuff, I'm thinking the RAF dude is the collins stand in, and that Dickie is a priest-in-training of sorts. RAF dude takes an immediate interest in Ken, but is warned off by either Ma Egan or Curt that Ken, telling him that Ken is basically engaged. Then RAF dude turns his attention to Bucky, who is rightfully hesitant to reciprocate. RAF dude proposes to Bucky but states that he must give up his life as a warrior, something which Bucky refuses to do. While this is happening, Dickie is pursuing Curt.

Haussmann is still the Wickham stand in.

During his early interactions with Bucky, Haussmann begins to poison her opinion of Gale, claiming that Gale had wronged him. He tells Bucky that Gale denied him an inheritance, portraying himself as a victim of Gale’s cruelty and arrogance. Bucky, already predisposed to dislike Gale, is easily swayed by Bucky’s story.

Bucky's opinion of Gale sinks even lower when he along with Rosie and Bubbles leave suddenly, and a letter from either Bubbles or Rosie proves it.

Haussmann takes Bucky to a church where civilized zombies are, which leads to Bucky inviting him along to visit Gale's dad, who's a famous zombie hunter like his son.

Bucky is able to visit Gale's dad, as Curt and Dickie are married at this point, and they're going to visit Gale's dad. That whole thing happens, which eventually leads to Gale proposing to Bucky. They fight as Bucky rejects him, and he doesn't want to admit that he's aroused by this.

Bucky goes on a trip with Jack and Chick, Chick being the closest thing he has to a father since his own passed a while back when the zombies first arose. While on that trip, Bucky receives a letter from Gale. In the letter, Gale confesses that he did indeed interfere in relationships of Ken and Rosie as well as Bubbles and Crosby. Given Crosby’s reserved nature, Gale misread his feelings, and also Crosby and Ken, according to the belief that Gale's father raised him on, they were too poor to be good for his friends. He also reveals Haussmann’s true character, explaining how Haussmann attempted to seduce his dearest friend Marge for her fortune, and how Haussmann has a history of reckless and immoral behavior. 

The whole climax happens because Haussmann lures Ken to the other side of the wall, saying that he's found a thought dead family member (like a sister or parent) and Ken says as much in a letter he's left. Crosby, Bucky, and a few others try to go find Ken. Things happen, there are a few close calls, and Bucky and his friends are sent back to the other side of the wall, but Bucky has an idea where Ken is, telling Gale as such. Gale tells Bucky that the church that he suspect Ken is being held at was overtaken and that Ken was likely dead.

Though distraught over Ken's apparent death, Bucky suspects something is up. On his way to the church, he sees a distraught looking Ken on a horse, riding to the wall. He presses onto the church, getting there in time to save Gale from being killed by (a now revealed undead) Haussmann, who escapes (though Bucky has chopped off his right arm). 

They barely ride across the wall, as it's being blown up as they cross. Thinking that Gale is dead, Bucky kisses him, confessing his feelings. Then, like snow white, Gale awakens kissing Bucky with a fervor, though in severe pain.

After Gale recovers, he proposes to Bucky again, and this time, he accepts. The two have a joint wedding with Rosie and Ken and Bubbles and Crosby.

[beemers-hell]

In your take on Madness, how would you explain White Hank and Pink Hank?

ok so like, ignoring whatever actual canon there is for the white hank series, which I kind of completley forgot what the fuck actually happened in it lmao, I see White and Pink as being different universes from canon madness. That's why the alt color + happy versions of my goons are referred to as AU versions!

Read more cause this gets long lol

The way I see it is that White is like, almost the same, some events may he scrambled or slightly different and some characters may have gone through different arcs n shit, but everything is mostly the same, except most if not all the characters are gender bent, thats it

Pink is like, I don't exactly know how to explain it but it's like canon madness but like...eccentric? I guess? Like, its mostly the same, again some shit is jumbled up and a majority of the characters have their roles reversed or shuffled around, but the main thing is everything is FARRRRR more flamboyant and just like, abundantly queer? I love Pank designs where he's a borderline drag queen, so I like to apply that same kind of design ethos/look to everyone and everything. Slay universe ig

I know Happy wasn't mentioned but like, to me a Happy universe is just Madness but like, to the left a lil bit iykwim. Like, all the stuff from nexus n shit happened and the AAHW exists and all the tomfoolery is going down but a lot of the characters either didn't experience some of the more Fucked Up shit that Fucked them up or they're just not As nutty. I'm pretty sure Skittles isn't supposed to be the same ass dude as Hank and all that but in this universe I like to think he Is, he's just not as much as a wack ass nut job like Hank is, but probably has a history of having done some violent shit in the past. After nexus Tricky is still an assassin but he's not a zombie, just a normal ass clown. Jeb is still like on the whole "cleanse the wicked" shit but more in a missionary kind of way instead of savior complex having lunatic kind of way. Sheriff is just like, doing his job without there being any bigger picture type thing he's contributing to yknow?

Ik most of this is most likely comoletley ignoring the actual canon shit of those tributes n shit, don't worry about that! im just fucking around with the ideas they present lmao

[actuallyunreal]

Makes me wonder,what’s the situation with Bing n’ Larry in your AU? I know they’re clearly not doing anything important so you probably haven’t put much thought if any into it but I’m curious thus I’m asking

ahoy! thanks for the question - sometimes i dont know if anyone would be interested in certain details haha! TwT

so... uh i kind of went off so this is a really long, rambling answer TwT

the day to day of a londonite in the mattpocalypse is slightly different than a normal, seasonal zombie apocalypse.

the undead are a normal problem, one that takes many lives but is accepted socially as "acceptable losses"; so long as it doesn't interrupt the machine of capitalism, grim au society just keeps churning. the ultra-rich have bunkers, most people have weapons, and its a tragic response to endstage capitalism - plus zombies 8D

during the ~mattpocalypse~, the undead curse seems to spread through... many previous means. air, fungus, reviving the undead, bites, basically you can find any kind of zombie kicking around in the streets.

despite these differences, the zombies also do the necromancer's whims - usually this just means making more zombies, stealing food+clothes from survivors, but many even continue with their day-to-day jobs while under matt's thrall.

this means the zombies threaten the average citizen much more than normal - and sometimes just for matt's amusement. whoops!

that, plus tom's rampages and edd's, uh, heroics, mean that... yeah. civilians arent having a very good time!

and for once that includes bing, who - upon actually being threatened by zombies for the first time in a long time - is currently Nervous. and a little Paranoid. hed sequestered himself for a while before coming to the realization that the cause of the current situation comes back to... some dudes hed cloned a bunch of years ago.

he is now perfectly convinced that HE was specifically the cause of all of this, and that he is absolutely about to be hunted down and popped like a moldy orange; so he called a few old friends - well, the few surviving rejected clones that would actually answer his calls, at least.

redd works several jobs part-time, and rooms with axel (piercings in the picture), who works at a tattoo shop, and scribs, who exists possibly between dimensions and frequently disappears for months on end, and is unemployed as shit but sure does eat all of the food in the fucking fridge. he is borderline noncanonical.

redd kept in contact with larry and was the only clone lonely enough to answer the call. redd's had a very boring couple years, and they suffer from a lot of the same longing for the old days that the main boys are prone to.

axel wants to be a productive, normal member of society. its, uh, going.

larry has received an offer from a possible benefactor.

anyway bing is pretty sure it all comes back to him and hes the most important thing in the world (hint: hes not) and figures a couple of clones are a great replacement for his poor guard dogs (rip). he is possibly creating his own doom! :3

[waithyuck]

melody

pairing: siren!park jisung x reader (f) *halloweenie special*

genre: supernatural au, angst ?? ig ??

word count: 2k

warnings: borderline/full on obsessive behavior (by the reader), some kissin but nothing explicit yk, mental instability, descriptions of drowning/death, hey uh major character death !!

a/n: I’m sorry lmao (also sorry for the long ass wait, it’s been a rough one out here lads), also of course there’s no smut in this!!! *cue me preparing for this to not do well* UNEDITED

< previous | next >

~12/03/2020~ YIKES

~~~~

it was fairly common for you to stay up until the early hours of the morning for no reason. sometimes you’d even make it to see the sunrise before actually falling asleep, only to wake four hours later to get up for the day. it seemed like your body didn’t require much to sleep to be able to run, and you didn’t know if you were grateful or resentful for that.

tonight was the same as many; you were casually laying in your bed scrolling through your phone, enjoying the quietness that ran through your entire small apartment building.

usually, there would be the hustle and bustle of the day echoing throughout the walls, but considering it was about four in the morning, there was no one awake to create that common noise.

you were obviously minding your own business when you heard the sound of muffled singing start through the wall next to you, accompanied by the rush of the running shower. at first your brain couldn't process what you were hearing, but then you figured out it was just your new next door neighbor, park jisung.

jisung was undoubtedly one of the most handsome young men you had ever seen, and upon meeting him for the first time you found it hard to keep that thought to yourself. you managed to quiet your racing through you, but still ogled at him as he introduced himself for the first time to you.

he was young, around the same age as you. it baffled you that he was able to love out on his own at such a young age, and be financially sound enough to not have any roommates. you didn’t question him though, and made the decision to keep your distance from him just in case you couldn’t keep your mouth shut the next time you were face to face.

well, that didn’t work out for you.

of course every time you left your apartment you seemed to bump into him, and after a while you two became familiar with each other. he acted pretty bashful around you and you couldn’t deny that you were also a little shy, but it really felt like the two of you had some sort of underlying connection.

you developed a crush on him, and you were pretty sure he liked you too, but you were too much of a scaredy cat to do anything about it. you both would often strike up conversations when you’d see each other in the hallways of your apartment building, always smiling and giggling in each other's presence.

even after a few months of knowing each other, (and months of you destroying your sleep schedule) you had never once heard him sing; the honey-like deep tone of his voice had you almost in a trance. it was sickly sweet, dripping with talent and you found yourself unable to think straight as you stood suddenly from your bed, walking like a zombie out of your bedroom and to the front door.

your heart was pounding in your chest and blood was rushing in your ears as you flung your door open carelessly and trudged out into the hall, swinging a sharp left immediately to situate yourself before the angelic boy’s door.

you, now seemingly completely out of your mind all of the sudden, frantically clawed at the wood of his door, banging and scratching like it as four in the morning. you could slightly hear the sounds of rustling coming from the apartment beyond the door, and you felt your heart leap at the prospect of jisung coming closer to you.

“park jisunnggggg,” you whined out lazily, your words slurred as you leaned against the door. “hmmmm, jisungieeeee,” you drew out as soon as he opened the door, a towel wrapped around his neck and a confused expression adorning his handsome face. you stumbled forward slightly, the door now not there to support your ragdoll like body. you fell into him and he hurriedly tried to steady you, his hands gripping your shoulders and then your waist as you slumped onto him for support.

“y/n?” he questioned quietly, trying his best to steady you onto your feet. “what are you doing? It’s four in the morning--”

“you never told me you could sing,” you cut him off, giggling loudly as your eyes looked up at him from where your head was now perched on his shoulder. you were too far gone (something that your brain wasn’t even questioning, therefore you felt absolutely zero alarm from the way you were acting), to register the change in his eyes, from confusion to pure dread as he stared at you.

“wait,” his eyes grew wide as he spoke, and your heart practically melted as you swooned at the color of them, which were unusually royal blue instead of his normal brown. “you heard me sing???”

he was clearly panicking, but your mind was so hazy that all you could do was stupidly smile at him, picking your head up and leaning in close to try and pick up the scent of his shampoo.

“mmm yeah,” you mumbled, your head falling onto his shoulder once again as he tried to keep you upright. “you’re so good at singing...like an angel.”

it was like you were drunk on him now, your body and brain not able to control themselves properly in his heavenly presence. his hands were fumbling awkwardly on your waist and you giggled at the contact, his large, warm hands somehow brushing up your shirt and against your skin.

you felt his chest rattle against you as he let out a shaky breath.

“fuck,” he muttered, gripping your skin as he pulled you abruptly into his apartment, quickly closing the door and locking it as best he could with a singular hand before gently guiding you to sit on his sofa.

you happily followed him as he maneuvered your body to rest on the couch, your brain feeling like it was in the clouds as he frantically paced back and forth before you.

“is there something wrong, jisung?” you questioned softly, a dumb smile still on your face as you sat back aginast the cushions behind you.

jisung stopped before you and stared down at you, his deep royal blue eyes causing your heart to flutter, and all you wanted to do was get as close to him as physically possible in that moment.

when he didn’t speak, you sat up straight, preparing to stand and get close to him, but he stopped you with his own body finding its way to rest right before yours.

“just,” he grunted frustratedly, placing his hands on your shoulders. “stay there, y/n.”

you pouted up at him, but reeled at the feeling of hands on your shoulders. “I wanna kiss you so bad, jisung.” you whined out, your conscious mind completely overtaken with the need to kiss him, hug him, devote yourself to him.

you could see his facial expression clearly, even in the dimly lit living room. he looked to be fighting with himself regarding his feelings toward you.

truth be told, jisung really wanted to kiss you too. but this situation...it felt wrong. his voice had done something to you; it called out to you, putting you in an intoxicated trance, and now he wasn’t sure what to do.

you would kill others trying to be by his side. you would kill yourself. it was that serious.

jisung suddenly sat down beside you, his expression void of emotion as he stared at you, your eyes sparkling at the close proximity of his body to yours. you didn’t hesitate to lean in to capture his lips without even asking, but hesitated when his hands met your waist for the second time that night.

“one kiss.” he said sternly, swallowing heavily as he looked at you. “only one.”

you were disappointed, but nonetheless took what you could get and gently met his lips with your own.

his lips were plush and soft as they moved with your own, and you sighed contently into the kiss as it progressed. it didn’t deepen like you were hoping, and after a minute or two of soft kisses, he pulled away.

your heart ached to feel more of him, and you were ready to cry when he stood up and distanced himself from you.

when he began to silently walk down his hallway, you were ready to pounce up and follow him like a dog, but he seemed to already predict your actions.

“stay,” he demanded, looking over his shoulder at you. “just...stay.” he sounded almost solemn, but there was still a slight void of emotion in his tone, like he had been through this exact situation many times before.

you poured but listened to him, busying yourself by looking around the room, not even noticing the light sounds of the bathtub being filled down the hall in the bathroom where jisung now found himself.

it wasn’t long before he called out to you from down the hall as he made his way back to the living room.

“hey y/n?” jisung called from the hall, immediately making your head snap in his direction.

“yes? do you need something?” you were frantic to reply, your head spinning with the need to make him happy. he shook his head no, a blank look in his eyes as he stared back at you.

“no, no I don’t need anything.” he deeply retorted, wringing his hands. “I drew a bath for you, if you wanna hop in.”

surprise etched onto your features at the kind gesture, but you nonetheless were grateful and instantly shot up to make your way to the bathroom with him.

you’d probably do anything he asked you to do, even if it was as simple as getting in the bathtub.

you didn’t really notice him shutting the door and locking it behind him, and you had barely been able to try to take off your clothes before he had shoved you into the tub roughly, causing you to knock your head on the side.

you panicked, not understanding why all the sudden he would treat you like this, and you struggled as he grabbed a hold of you tightly and flipped you onto your back in the water, looking into your eyes one last time.

“this is for your own good, y/n.” he said, voice breaking. you stared up at him, your eyes seemingly shaking as tears formed. “this is no way for you to live.”

with those final words, he shoved you beneath the water, his strength overpowering yours as you screamed in protest, bubbles the only indication you were making any noise at all. you squirmed and tried to fight, but you couldn’t escape from his hold. he looked away from you entirely, not wanting to see your face as you tried to save your own life.

your lungs burned and you closed your eyes, your vision fading out anyway. your struggles grew weak as you were effectively drowning, your last breath escaping you as it finally all faded to black.

jisung sniffled, finally letting go of your limp body to wipe away the tears that escaped his eyes. he never wanted this to happen. deep down he knew that it was for the best; you would have never been able to live without him after hearing his cursed voice.

with one final glance at you he stood, unlocking the bathroom door and walking out to figure out how he was gonna deal with this mess he had created for himself.

[mslaevateinn]

Bucky Barnes Bingo - Laevateinn’s Masterpost

Laevateinn's Master post for the @buckybarnesbingo - IT’S A BLACKOUT

Square filled: B1: Naked cuddles Work: Lounging on Christmas Morning Rating: T Ship: Bucky/Steve Major tags: Fluff, Retired Steve Rogers, Retired Bucky Barnes, Lounging Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve and Bucky enjoy some peace and quiet on Christmas morning. Word count: 1k

Square filled: B2: Family Work: Who dares challenge Loki into a snowball fight? Rating: G Ship: Bucky/Steve (background) Major tags: Snowball fight, drabble, fun and light Warnings: N/A Summary: Snow, teenagers - plus two centenarians - and shenanigans. Word count: 100

Square filled: B3: Howling Commandos (swaped) Work: Cap Rogers’ first pride Rating: T Ship: Bucky/Steve Major tags: Howling Commandos, College AU, Pride, LGBT Themes, moodboard Warnings: N/A Summary: It’s going to be Steve’s first pride and the his team is here to help Word count: 500 (+moodboard)

Square filled: B4: Zombies (adopted) Work: Taking the shield and dying with it Rating: T Ship: N/A Major tags: Zombies, What If coda, Bucky pov (ep 5) Warnings: MCD Summary: Major Character Death, zombies, What If coda, Bucky pov (ep 5) Word count: 765

Square filled: B5: The floor is lava Work: A Weird kind of paintball Rating: T Ship: Bucky/Steve (background) Major tags: crack, paintball, team as family Warnings: N/A Summary: Things get interesting when Loki is involved in a paintball game Word count: 720

Square filled: U1: Spanking Work: Last Christmas, you became mine Rating: M Ship: Bucky/Steve Major tags: Shrunkyclunks, Modern Bucky, drabble Warnings: N/A Summary: A movie spurs bad memories for Bucky and Steve decides to care matters into his own hands Word count: 100

Square filled: U2: AU: Medieval (adopted) Work: MRBB Earth’s Mightiest phase - Snippet Rating: T Ship: N/A Major tags: AU Medieval; Medusa!Bucky; snippet; snarky Bucky; arrow wounds Warnings: N/A Summary: Experimented on by HYDRA, Bucky now turns to stone anyone who crosses his eyes. Afraid to hurt people, he elected to hide in the mountains, but one day his enemies catch up with him. Word count: 490

Square filled: U3: Presumed Dead Work: Valse à trois temps (Waltz to three beats) (Chapter 1) Rating: M Ship: Bucky/Steve Major tags: Presumed dead, not IW or Endgame compliant, on the run, undercover mission, polyamory, relationship negotiation, art as therapy, dancing, embedded fanart Warnings: N/A Summary: It all starts with a fucking Disney movie. Or rather, a song. Peter made them all sit on the sofa, since apparently not having watched Anastasia is some kind of crime. Not that it would matter much after all he's done, but Bucky isn’t going to bring that up to the kid. But that's how it starts. The name of the song is Once Upon a December, as he learns later. As soon as the first notes resonate in the room, he's transported back to another ballroom. A slightly younger version of himself, a red haired young woman twirling in his hands. They exchange a glance, and it's no surprise they find themselves alone in the gym a bit later. With each spin, a bit of their past comes back to life. Word count: 5.6k

Square filled: U4: pic: Bucky & Rocket (adopted) Work: A Talking Racoon, a Sentient Tree and an Emotional Satellite Walk Into a Bar Rating: T Ship: Bucky & Steve Major tags: Borderline crack, Bickering, Steve and Bucky being almost normal for once, Canon Divergent after IW, The relationship between Bucky and Steve can be read as platonic or romantic Warnings: N/A Summary: “Was.” “Was not.” “How could you know what … he meant, you weren’t even there!” Steve sputtered. “I know because Rocket told me earlier,” Bucky said, as if the answer was obvious. “Right, Rocket. Is that… No, I don’t know. Who is that again?” “The racoon” “The… racoon,” Steve enounced, slowly. Or, the one time Steve and Bucky react like normal people after what Bucky will call "the great battle against the giant grape". Word count: 640

Square filled: U5: Bruce Banner Work: BBB October 2021 Round Robin Rating: G Ship: N/A Major tags: Developing Friendships, Team Bonding, Meditation, Domestic Avengers Warnings: N/A Summary: How Bucky starts finding and expanding his comfort zone, and making friends with the Avengers. Word count: 350

Square filled: C1: Sam Wilson Work: I just want to get better (chapter 2) Rating: M Ship: Bucky & Sam Major tags: Queer Bucky Barnes, Self Loathing, Self-Esteem Issues Warnings: Homophobia, Racism(from the bad guys), canon level of violence, Kids in danger (but nothing happens to them), Summary: We get Bucky's recollection of the events that triggered his nightmare, his reaction to it and a nice moment between Sam and Bucky. Word count: 3.2k

Square filled: C2: Schmoop Work: Save a horse, ride a supersoldie Rating: M Ship: Bucky/Steve Major tags: Pride parade, LGBT Avengers (not all of them), fluff Warnings: N/A Summary: Just a little pride parade one shot, because we never have enough of these. It's just fluff and fun, really. Set in an ambiguous timeline, where IW and Endgame never happened, but Asgardians are refugees and the accords... got cancelled. Word count: 1k

Square filled: C3: Free Work: BBB September Round Robin Rating: G Ship: N/A Major tags: AU: High School, School dance, Goats Warnings: N/A Summary: Bucky, Steve, and Natasha are helping decorate the hall for their school dance. Commence shenanigans. Word count: 350

Square filled: C4: Denial Work: Acceptance is the first part of healing Rating: T Ship: Bucky & Sam Major tags: 1e3 : Power Broker, TFATWS coda, Angst, hopeful(ish) ending Warnings: PTSD, Implied sexual abuse/assault, dissociation, flashbacks Summary: "You good ?" Wilson asks him, after he fought against eight men. "You okay ?" Wilson asks him, when they get to Sharon’s house. "You hurt ?" Wilson asks him, when they get out of the car. Yes, Wilson. All good. Now if the guy could shut up and carry on, that'd be great. Why would he be "not fine" anyway ? It's not as if anything that happened that day hasn't happened before. Word count: 900

Square filled: C5: Alien planet Work: Away Mission Rating: T Ship: Bucky/Steve (background) Major tags: Away mission, Star Trek fusion Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve and Bucky are sent on an away mission and the scenery is breathtaking Word count: 125 + moodboard

Square filled: K1: Morning sex Work: Kiss me, I’m Irish Rating: M Ship: Bucky/Steve Major tags: St Patrick's day, Crack, Steve is a little shit, Domestic Avengers, Irish Steve, Fluff and humour Warnings: N/A Summary: The elevator dings and a voice booms as soon as the doors open. ""Steven you little shit !"" Oh oh. What happened this time ? Sam puts his book down on the armrest and exchanges a look with Wanda who does the same. This was going to be interesting. Word count: 1.9k

Square filled: K2: pic: Bucky in the chair Work: A new arm for a new life Rating: T Ship: Bucky/Steve Major tags: Very mild angst, H/C Warnings: Start of a panic attack (dealt with almost instantly) Summary: Something had been malfunctioning in the vibranium arm, and Shuri was going to fix it. Except the set-up, the glint of the metal and the tools were just what his brain needed to go back to the last time his arm got a check-up. Word count: 720

Square filled: K3: Cat Work: Warm snuggles Rating: G Ship: Bucky/Steve Major tags: Alpine, Cudles, fireplace, fluff Warnings: N/A Summary: Steve comes home to an adorable sight Word count: 159 + moodboard

Square filled: K4: pic: Bucky on the plane in TFATWS Work: I just want to get better Rating: T Ship: N/A Major tags: Bucky Barnes Needs a hug, Lonely Bucky Barnes Warnings: PTSD Summary: Bucky may have a bigger support circle, but he's still struggling. After an encounter with home grown wannabe terrorists, he is left more shaken than he would admit. Word count: 1.2k

Square filled: K5: Body swap (swapped) Work: Bucky Rogers? Steve Barnes? None of the above? Rating: T Ship: Bucky/Steve Major tags: Body swap, drabble, crack Warnings: N/A Summary: As Bucky wakes up, he can feel something isn’t right. But what? Word count: 100

Square filled: Y1: Homeless Work: If you loved me, why did you leave me? Rating: T Ship: Bucky & Steve Major tags: Written before TFATWS, Post-Endgame, Steve Dies, Hurt no Comfort, Angst, Homeless, Hurt Bucky Barnes, Abandonment issues Warnings: N/A Summary: A small insight into Bucky’s thoughts after Steve chooses to live happily ever after with Peggy and leaves all his friends behind. Word count: 1.1k

Square filled: Y2: AU: Good Omens (adopted) Work: Guardian angels Rating: T Ship: Bucky/Steve Major tags: AU: Good Omens Warnings: N/A Summary: Aziraphale reflects on his human charge Word count: 100

Square filled: Y3: On opposing sides Work: The game is on Rating: G Ship: N/A Major tags: Hockey AU, Modern AU, Russian Bucky Barnes Warnings: N/A Summary: One half turn, and the delicious sound of the blade’s bite in the ice. Word count: 100

Square filled: Y4: Bucky/Steve Work: Happy New Year! Rating: T Ship: Bucky/Steve Major tags: Mistletoe, Stucky through the years Warnings: N/A Summary: Word count: 860

Square filled: Y5: Ledger Work: A ledger full of Scarlett Rating: T Ship: N/A Major tags: Angst, Hurt No Comfort, general Winter Soldier warnings, Bucky trying to get better, TFATWS ep1 coda, Canon Compliant Warnings: PTSD, (borderline) Suicidal thoughts Summary: A little coda for the first episode of TFATWS. Word count: 500

[benaffleckofcrowdsurfing]

Star Treatment - 1

TBHC Alex Turner AU

cowritten with @walkingidler​

description: an escort, a millionaire, a hotel that breaks the boundaries of technology, time, and space, a flashing red light, and a shit ton of cocaine.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: mentions of mental illness, light drug use, and assault. I’d rate this chapter PG-13.

THE BEGINNING

**********

“We’re just leaving now. Should only be a few minutes. Brielle is very excited to meet you.”

“Lovely. I’ll step outside and wait for her arrival.”

As Alex stepped outside, the warm Los Angeles air hit him like a swift palm to the face. He took off his blazer and waited, not quite knowing who for. He knew she was young and at least somewhat attractive, he had been quite impressed by the pictures that his friend showed him. Who knew, though. Girls in LA never looked like they did in their pictures. 

In only a few moments, a black SUV pulled up to the lavish restaurant. Alex smiled politely when a small brunette girl stepped out. Wow, he thought. She’s actually more attractive than her photos.

“I presume you’re Miss Brielle,” Alex took a step toward her as she strutted up to him, and shook her hand.

“And you must be Alexander,” the girl hummed. The word ‘Alexander’ left her lips like honey, leaving goosebumps down Alex’s spine. She looked up at him with bedroom eyes, her soft green irises twinkling under the moonlight. Alex couldn’t help but stare.

“Come on, Darling. There’s a bottle of wine waiting for us at the table,” Alex muttered, still admiring the petite girl’s beauty. She smiled up at him before putting her hands around his arm and allowing him to guide her to the table.

“So,” Alex pulled out the chair for Brielle. “How old are you, Brielle. You look quite young.”

Brielle thanked him as she sat down, and when Alex returned to his side of the table, she chuckled a bit. “I’m nineteen. I’ve been doing this for almost three years now.”

“Three years? That would have made you sixteen when you started. How did you get caught up in something like this so young?” Alex poured Brielle a glass of wine.

Brielle sighed. “You’re eager, aren’t you? Usually men don’t ask me my life story until at least the third or fourth date.”

Alex’s eyes grew wide and his face flushed. “Oh- I’m sorry. I’ve never actually done anything like this before, I guess I didn’t get the ‘escort manners’ memo.” 

Brielle laughed again. “No, don’t apologize. It’s refreshing to sit down and have dinner with someone who doesn’t just want to talk about their tough day at work or their failing marriage or their kids who are probably all around my age.”

“Right. I guess you’re probably used to married men. I forgot about that.”

“Do you not have a woman in your life, Alexander?”

“I’m actually on this… er - date… by recommendation of a friend to help me get over my most recent ex girlfriend.”

Brielle frowned at Alex and stuck her bottom lip out in pity. “I’m sorry, Alexander. I’m sure it was her loss. You’re a very attractive man and from what my higher-ups said, you’re quite the businessman.”

Alex chuckled. “Businessman. That’s a funny one. But - and just let me know if I’m prying, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable - you never answered my question. I want to know how you got here.”

Brielle exhaled and took a long sip of her wine before tucking her hair behind her ears and looking directly into Alex’s eyes; it was like she could see a universe behind them as they gleaned against the dim lighting. “I’m just going to say this now, Alexander. I don’t want pity. I’m a big girl and I’ve worked hard to get where I’m at, even if you may not see it as the most noble lifestyle.”

Alex nodded. “I understand, and trust me I’m never one to judge your lifestyle. I am the one who hired you, after all.”

Brielle pursed her lips into a small smile before continuing. “When I was fourteen, I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder. I had been suffering from it for a long time before I was diagnosed, and it really took a toll on my relationships with my family. My parents were never the best people, they’re quite wealthy and are kind of your typical ‘Real Housewives of Los Angeles’ assholes. My mother told me from a very young age that it was more important to be pretty and polite than yourself, and my father never really paid attention to me. So when I was diagnosed, they kind of just wanted to throw me on whatever meds would make me a zombie and would keep me out of their hair, but I wasn’t having it. I deeply understood that I was who I was because of BPD, and even if I was irrational or ‘crazy’ or whatever, that was me. So I never took my meds.”

As Brielle fell into her own little world, painting out the picture of her teenage years for Alex, he watched her. He watched how her soft lips fell when she was speaking about her parents, how her eyes creased in hesitation before going on about her mental illness, how her delicate hands acted out everything she spoke about. He listened to her voice, taking note of the way she giggled through her story and put emphasis on words like crazy and troubled. Alex usually didn’t like American accents, but there was something about hers he couldn’t get enough of. She sounded intelligent, he could tell that there was a lot going on in her brain and it made him want to hear more.

“When I was fifteen, my mom found out I wasn’t taking my meds. She was livid. She screamed at me for hours, that was one of the worst days of my life. She called me a spoiled brat and a fucking psycho and said that having me was one of the worst mistakes she ever made. That day really pushed me over the edge. I couldn’t stand living with her anymore. I told her to take me out of the trust and to never speak to me again, and I left.”

Alex furrowed his brows. “You left when you were fifteen?”

Brielle rolled her eyes. “I know, I know. I was way too young to be on my own. But I had places to go. For that first year or so I stayed with some friends downtown. It was great. I got a job at a decent restaurant, and the friends I was staying with had an in to this club so we were constantly out partying and drinking and all that jazz.”

Alex frowned even more. “You were hanging out in clubs when you were fifteen?”

“Yes, Alexander. Fifteen. I dropped acid for the first time when I was fifteen. I did coke for the first time when I was fifteen. I had sex for the first time when I was fifteen. I was a bad kid.”

“I didn’t call you a bad kid, I just wanted to clarify.”

“Sure you did, Alexander.”

“I mean it.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Brielle, would you please just continue your story?”

Brielle shot Alex a dirty look before continuing. “One day, I was in the club, and a man came up to me. He told me he liked how I danced. I was like ‘okay?’ And then he told me he’d pay for me to sit with him and keep him company. At first I was like, ‘no, what the fuck?’ because I was a kid and I didn’t realize what he was asking, but I guess one of the guys we knew who ran the club saw and pulled me aside and explained it to me. He told me that if I wanted to pursue that, he could take care of the business side of everything, and promised to keep me safe. At that point I already had no morals for myself so I was just kind of like, ‘fuck it’, you know? Fast forward three years, and I’m still saying fuck it.”

Alex repeated the words to himself. “Fuck it.” 

Brielle bit her bottom lip and raised her glass. “To saying fuck it.”

Alex grinned and put his glass to hers. “To saying fuck it.”

They both laughed after drinking their wine, and a waiter came up to them. “What can I get for you two?”

Brielle looked down at the menu and hummed softly. “I’d love the salmon, please.”

Alex handed the waiter his menu. “I’ll do the filet mignon.”

After the waiter refilled both of their water glasses and walked away, Alex looked back over to Brielle. 

“I must say, Brielle. I’m absolutely enthralled by you.” 

Brielle smirked. “As I am by you.”

Alex cocked an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Well,” Brielle took another sip of her wine. “You’re a lot younger than most of the other men I see. You’re unmarried, extremely wealthy, have a sexy accent, and are insanely attractive. I can’t quite figure out why you decided to hire an escort.” 

Alex bit his lip. “So you think I’ve got a sexy accent?”

“You’re missing the point.”

“Well, maybe I just wanted to be seen out with an attractive young lass.”

Before Brielle could respond, the waiter returned with their meals. 

Brielle let out an excited gasp at the sight of her dinner, making Alex giggle. “That’s a mighty fine lookin’ fish you’ve got there, darling.”

Brielle picked up her fork in a hurry, and let out a little moan as she took her first bite. “Oh my god, this is insane.”

Alex’s eyes grew darker at the sound of her little noises of delight. This girl was driving him absolutely mad, just watching her lips curl around her fork and smile into the salmon was getting him hot and bothered.

Brielle looked up from her meal and scoffed at Alex. “Are you gonna eat your steak or are you just gonna sit there and drool over me?”

“Wow, Brielle. I would’ve thought a girl getting paid to have dinner with me would be a bit less blunt,” Alex chuckled.

“Jeez, sorry that I’m comfortable enough with you to not be perfect,” Brielle blew a raspberry at the man across the table, and then smiled and stuck her fork out to him. “Would you like a taste?”

Alex cleared his throat in order to keep his composure. “I’d love some.”

Brielle stuck her tongue out slightly as she moved the fork toward Alex, and as Alex took the salmon into his mouth, she averted her gaze from the fork to his eyes. He was looking directly at her, so their eye contact was immediate. Both their eyes were dark, the heat of the moment building up between them. Alex had no idea that such a small gesture could get him going so quickly, and Brielle had no idea that she could feel the things she was feeling for a client. As the two of them backed away from each other and leaned back into their seats, they held eye contact.

“That’s absolutely heavenly. I should’ve gotten that instead of the steak,” Alex raved.

“I’m sure your steak is quite good as well, it looks fantastic.”

Alex lowered his voice a bit. If she was going to be bold, so was he. “Well open up then, have a taste.”

Brielle blushed a bit, the apples of her cheeks lifting when the corners of her lips curled into a grin. She leaned forward, resuming her eye contact with Alex as she took the steak into her mouth. She let out a few moans of delight as she sat back in her seat, nodding as she chewed. Alex bit his lip in satisfaction. He’d hand feed her bites of his meal all night if it meant he’d get to hear those noises.

“Holy shit, that’s a really good cut of meat.” Brielle mumbled. Her mouth was still full, and Alex laughed at her poor table manners.

The eccentric couple sat and finished their main courses, making small talk and getting to know each other better. At one point they talked about their favorite films, having a rather riveting conversation about one particular French film, Le Cercel Rouge. Alex practically proposed to Brielle when she had mentioned the movie, it was one of his favorites and he loved a girl who knew French cinema. They also talked about Alex’s two Akitas, Vesta and Vulcan. Brielle gushed over the pictures he showed her of them, she loved dogs and begged Alex to meet them (to which Alex replied something along the lines of “that can be arranged”).

“Alexander,” Brielle purred. 

They were eating dessert now. Alex had ordered a rather decadent chocolate mousse, and Brielle went for banana parfait. 

“Please, Brielle. Call me Alex.”

Brielle simpered. “Alright, Alex. You asked me how I got here, but how did you get here?”

Alex frowned. “I already told you. A friend of mine recommended I see someone to take my mind off of my ex.”

“No, silly. Not here, here. How’d you end up in LA? Where did your wealth come from? What do you do for a living?” Brielle pointed her spoon at Alex to emphasize what she was saying. 

“Well, alright. I’ve lived in the states officially for ten years now, but before that I visited quite often. I grew up in a little town in the UK called Sheffield, but my uncle owned a hotel here in Los Angeles and I often came to visit.”

“Oh, that’s really cool! Which hotel does he own?”

“Well, actually I own it now. It’s the Tranquility Base.”

Brielle’s eyes widened. “You own that thing?” The Tranquility Base Hotel and Casino was a massive building in the heart of Beverly Hills, and just so happened to be one of the most prestigious residencies in California. It was quite elusive. People were rarely seen going in and out, however it was widely known that this was where the most rich and famous stayed. 

“Yes ma’am.”

“So, I’m assuming that’s where your fortune came from?”

“Well, partially. My uncle left me a lot of money, plus the hotel, but I also, um,” Alex paused to find his words. How could he say this without exposing himself? “I’m an entrepreneur.”

Brielle narrowed her eyes at Alex’s last statement. “So you’re a drug dealer?”

Alex’s eyes grew wide. “How did you-“

“Alexan- er, Alex, I’ve been escorting for three years. I know that ‘entrepreneur’ is code for ‘I’m a drug lord’. It’s nothing to be secretive about. I’m trustworthy.” Brielle leaned back in her seat with a sort of cocky look on her face.

“Okay, yes. I’m involved in… that sort of thing. Another gift from my uncle. High standing in one of the most elite drug rings in the country. Both a blessing and a curse, but it is what it is.” Alex let out a breathy laugh and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small bag full of a white powder. “Want some?”

Brielle’s face contorted into a Cheshire Cat smile. “You know, usually I’d decline. I may be dumb but I’m not dumb enough to take anything from a stranger. But I’m feeling lucky tonight, Alex. I trust you.”

“Off to the bathroom we go, then.” 

***********

It was only two more days until Alex arranged another dinner date with Brielle, and a few days after that he called upon her for a quick dog walk with Vesta and Vulcan. Alex didn’t stop thinking about her for days. He thought about her in the shower, while he was working, during meetings, he dreamed about her, he had even asked his driver to follow her around one evening to see what she got up to in her free time. She was driving him mad, making him sick. He wanted her - no, he craved her, and at this point he’d pay her every night if it meant he got to spend time with her. She may have been some dirty fantasy of his at first, but in only a month he felt that he had strong feelings for Brielle.

Luckily for Alex, she thought similarly. Every time her “boss”, Enzo, told her that she’d be accompanying Mister Turner, her eyes lit up. As much as she hated that she liked someone as old as Alex, she was fascinated by him. Brielle had even gone to the extent of asking Enzo for his number, so she could see him outside of work, but that hadn’t gone well.

“Bri, you know the deal. No seeing clients outside of work.”

Enzo and Brielle stood against the club’s back wall, looking out over the sea of people. 

Brielle scoffed after him and took a drag from the blunt the two of them were sharing. “Enzo, please. I’m not going to go behind your back and ask him for more money or anything. I just want to be able to see him outside of work.”

The tall man looked down at Brielle as if she had lost her mind. “Bitch, that’s the problem. You start fucking your clients for free and I’ve lost all my credibility. People will clown us, and I can’t let you cost me clients.” 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Enzo. You’re absolutely impossible. I’ll just ask him for it the next time I see him,” she whisper-shouted and began to walk away. Enzo chuckled before grabbing Brielle by the hair, slamming her against the wall and gripping her arm violently to keep her in place. She looked up at him with a spiteful look, “What gives, Enzo? Can you let me fucking go?”

“You’re forgetting something, Bri. I own you. You’re caught up with me, and there’s no getting out of it. You knew that the moment you started doing business with me.” Enzo bent down so his face was level with hers. He kissed her cheek before letting her go and taking the blunt from her hands. “You’ve got a date with Mister Turner tomorrow night. I’ll be watching you closely. Don’t do anything fucking stupid.”

Brielle nodded her head in compliance, and when he shoved her away, she stormed outside and kicked off her shoes. “I can’t fucking believe him. I cannot fucking believe him. I’m going to fucking kill him. I fucking- I can’t fucking- I-,” Brielle cried. She was warm to the touch, the tears streaming down her face seemed to be sizzling against her hot cheeks. She couldn’t do anything but sit on the sidewalk and cry, she had no one to call or talk to help her calm down. 

“Need a cigarette, Love?”

A familiar voice reached from behind her.

“Hey, Alex.”

 Brielle sniffled and wiped the tears off of her cheeks before turning around to greet him. Maybe In a different situation she would asked him why are you here, but she was just thankful to have someone there for her - no questions asked.

 Alex sat next to her on the curb, and pulled a carton of Marlboros and a lighter out of his coat pocket. He pulled two cigarettes out of the pack, and handed one to her. “What’s going on, Brielle?” 

“Just work troubles,” Brielle shrugged. She thanked Alex after he lit the cigarette for her, and laid back on the concrete to take her first drag. 

Alex ran his hand over her small arm, a dark bruise was forming from where Enzo had held her against the wall. His voice got quiet. “I can see that.”

Brielle panicked and ripped her arm away from Alex’s soft touch. “Please don’t say anything about this to anyone. Enzo and I just had a bit of an argument. I’m okay.”

“Brielle, I know how Enzo is. If you’re in trouble you can tell me, I’m here for you.” Alex’s voice was low and soft, he seemed genuinely concerned and it made Brielle’s eyes well up once again.

“I can’t escape, Alex. You know how people like that are. If I ever go against his word he’ll kill me,” she mumbled. When Alex put his arm around her and pulled her closer, she burst into tears. “I want out so badly.”

Alex sighed and kissed the top of her head, his beard tickling her forehead. They sat there for a moment, just waiting for Brielle to calm down a bit, before Alex stood up. 

“Come home with me, Brielle. Please. You need someone to keep you company.”

Brielle furrowed her brows and stood up to be more level with Alex. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Alex stepped closer to her, and Brielle quickly stepped away.

“I just…can’t.” She began to tear up again. As much as she did want to go with Alex, she was terrified of what Enzo would do. “Trust me, I’d love to be with you. I really would.”

Alex looked confused, but he let it go nonetheless. He was sure she had a valid reason. “At least let me drive you home. Please.”

Brielle smiled weakly and nodded her head. “Okay.”

Alex put an arm around Brielle and guided her to his towncar. He opened the door for her, and cleared his throat as the two of them slipped in.

“Brielle, this is my driver, Nick O’Malley. Nick, Brielle Roux.” 

Brielle said a quick hello to Nick, who didn’t say anything, but rather nodded at her. The drive home was quiet, it mostly consisted of Brielle sniffling away her tears and telling Nick how to get to her apartment, and Alex comfortingly rubbing Brielle’s thigh.

“Here we are,” Brielle muttered as they rolled up to her apartment. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Alex.”

She planted a kiss on Alex’s cheek before slipping out of the car.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Love.”

[occasionalfics]

worth my while // p. 8

main masterlist | thor masterlist | ko-fi | p. 7 | p. 9

Summary: After being banished from his home, Thor Odinson has stopped at nothing to prove himself worthy of his throne, title, and power.

After losing the love of your life, you turned to a power you didn’t understand.You know you shouldn’t get involved.

But how could you not?

Pairing: Thor x Reader (Hercules au…kind of…)

A/N: So the yelling has already started but...it’s only gonna get worse before it gets better ;)

(Y’all know me though - I can’t not end on a happy note. So stay tuned.)

Warnings: Violence, lots of angst, borderline abuse and definite manipulation, way too many feels, major character death (eventually). Hades is still a huge creep.

Words: 2,320

“I hate to inform you of this, Oh Wise One,” you say, sardonic irony dripping from every word, “but the God of Thunder is practically perfect in every way.” You pet Cerberus’s head once more, anchoring yourself in enough comfort to stand up to Hades if you have to.

You’re not going further with whatever he has planned. You will not hurt Thor, not even for your own freedom.

You love him. More than yourself. More than life. More than freedom. Admittance the hardest part, despite how easy it is to act on the knowledge you have.

Hades seems unfazed. He sits and stares at you, then shrugs. “Sounds like that’s a you problem,” he says. “No flaw, no freedom.”

At that, your face drops. How could you have possibly thought you’d be able to get around Hades like this?

“I am disappointed, of course.” He comes around the coffee table, stands over you, and crosses his arms. “I asked you do to something-”

“You definitely didn’t ask-”

“And, time and time again, you’ve come back empty handed. Not really getting my powers’ worth out of our deal.”

“That sounds like a you problem.” You don’t even miss a beat. Your eyebrows lower, and the glare you shoot at him would otherwise be enough to kill.

Despite his reputation, despite the myths and the interpretations, Hades has never gotten really, truly angry with you. He’s never shown pure rage. Frustration, sure. Disappointment - it’s in his navy eyes now. But he saves anger for those beyond the mansion.

Still, you’ve learned that there are deeper ways to cut, more dangerous emotions to feel and show than to rage.

When Hades stays calm and collected, your skin crawls. When he chuckles, you slink back against the couch.

“I’ve made bad deals before,” he says. “You’re not the first. And I know how to deal with servants like you, (Y/N). Now, I don’t want to have to go there.” He shrugs. “But you seem to think you’re playing my hand for me.”

All you can do is stare. Your Cerberus whines for you, but your hand has stilled on his head.

“I’d say I’m giving you one more chance, but you don’t have much of a choice.” At least he acknowledges it. “This time, you do things my way.”

--

The airy, cloudy restraints on your ankles, wrists, and around your mouth should not be so stable. They are, but they don’t look like they should be unbreakable.

They taste like death - or what you imagine death to taste like. They taste like Rick did after you brought him back. They remind you of every mistake you’ve made since you watched Rick storm out of your apartment and into the street - every moment you’ve decided to do something unnatural or abhorrent that’s led you to this.

Hades doesn’t have to carry you. His magic does that for him - another dark, swirling cloud beneath you that smells like the end of the world. You stopped struggling ten minutes ago, because you know that this is always where you were meant to end up. From the moment that you agreed to whatever Hades wanted for the sake of Rick, you stepped onto a path that only continued in one winding direction.

Apocalypse comes to mind. Hades has never called it that, but you know now, and it’s fitting.

He wants to raise the dead.

The Avengers guard the living.

He separates them, gets his Four Horsemen to occupy and imprison them a few at a time, raises the dead, and controls the guardians of the living all in one fell swoop.

But first, he brings you as an offering to the God of Thunder. Thor is the only Avenger that Hades has no manner to successfully hold. He’s too strong, too good, too determined to prove himself worthy of returning home. He’ll agree to anything that might deem him as such.

Hades seems to think that includes bargaining for you.

One tear slips out of your left eye as Hades steps out onto the field behind Avengers’ Compound. You haven’t been here before; you and Thor have only ever spent time in the tower, in Manhattan.

This place is massive. You can’t appreciate it right now, but you can tell it was crafted specifically with someone like Thor in mind - someone who, in theory, should be able to travel inter-dimensionally with the assistance of his hammer. This is where Hades has lured Thor with a whole slew of monsters. This is where he gets the God of Thunder alone, does whatever it is he wants to him, and leaves you to clean up the mess you know is coming.

Like clockwork, his massive frame falls from the sky. You can feel the ground shake, despite being cloaked for the moment and despite not even touching the ground.

Hades stops in his tracks. He leans back, crosses his arms, and chuckles pretentiously. “If it isn’t the Mighty Thor,” he says.

Thor stands tall. His long hair looks freshly washed, despite absolutely having fought monsters no less than forty minutes ago.

In any other circumstance, you’d run right to Thor. You crave his arms around you, want nothing more than to say what’s inside to him, to have him repeat it back. You want to prove yourself worthy enough of Asgard, to go with him and never look back at this forsaken place, this planet that took your heart and sold it to the highest bidder.

Speaking of, Hades holds out a hand and introduces himself. Thor just stares, brows furrowed. You know he can’t see you, but you try to mumble around the cloud in your mouth. He, apparently, cannot hear you, either.

Hades can, though. He glares at you over his shoulder, a warning in his navy depths.

You slink back, a sob caught in your throat. This is all too much. You hate yourself for ever getting into this; you hate Rick for dying; you hate Hades for taking advantage of your broken heart; you even, for just a second, hate Thor for attempting to put it back together.

But that just restarts the whole cycle, and you know it’s not fair to hold that against Thor. Not when you kept going back to him because it felt good and right and all manner of shiny, magical descriptors.

You look up at the sky and pray - you hope Odin can hear you, wherever he is, hope he has telekinesis and that it can work at such a distance between Midgard and Asgard and that he’s listening to some random mortal because you pray for Thor. You beg Odin to bring him home, to save his son, to protect the only person who’s even attempted to restore your faith in humanity.

He’s not even human. The irony sinks in as just one more tear falls from your right eye.

“I’ve got something you may want to consider,” you hear Hades say. He snaps, and suddenly a veil you hadn’t even been aware of lifts. The world is brighter - harsher - and you squint as the cloud your on brings you out from behind Hades.

Thor lunches for you, but he phases right through you.

“I wouldn’t try that, friend,” Hades says. “You want the girl? You give me your strength for 24 hours - let’s say the next 24 hours.”

Thor must hear it all. He gets up slowly, watches you carefully, then drags his eyes to Hades. “If I agree,” he says, voice a dangerous growl from low in his chest, “if I give you my strength, you have to swear no harm will come to her.”

Hades glances back at you, this time with a hint of dramatic teasing alight in his eyes. “Of course,” he says. He thrusts his hand out further toward Thor. “Not a single hair out of place.”

Thor’s nostrils flare. The lines etched in his face make him look much older than you’re used to. Much more aggressive. Lightning fits this man.

“I don’t really have all day,” Hades says. “You either want her, or you don’t.”

You hate the way he says that. Like he can convince you both, with just one sentence, that you either mean nothing or everything to Thor.

You know better. He’s an Avenger for a reason. You are just one human - one measly little girl he’s spent too much time with, invested too much emotion in. He’s a hero because he always puts the people first.

Except...for when he doesn’t, apparently.

“Fine,” he nearly whispers.

Your breath hitches when you watch his hand stretch out toward Hades’. You shake your head, hope he sees, but his fingers move in and around Hades’, and suddenly he’s on his knees, groaning as the strength within him is pulled from his essence.

Your throat is raw as you yell around the cloud, shaking your head. You know that Thor is more than his strength. Mjölnir knows it, too. But without it, you know he can’t go up against a hoard of zombies. Without his strength, Mjölnir could easily rip his arm from its socket before he could even think of joining the fight.

When the job is done, Thor falls back onto his heels. He kneels and breathes deeply, and Hades snaps.

The clouds fall away from you. You fall forward, your hands catching you at the last second, wrists exploding with jolts of pain after having been bound together for so long.

More sobs spill from between your lips.

You could’ve stopped this. Except, no, that’s not true.

But you could have prevented it.

“Oh, and isn’t she just...the best little actress?” Hades asks. His fingers grip your chin and pull you up so you kneel at his side.

There’s no fight left in you. You don’t even try to pull away.

Thor breathes heavily as he asks, “What?” His eyes dart to you - those electric blues sending static shocks all over your face as he glares.

“She didn’t tell you?” Hades asks. He tsks, shakes his head, looks down at you like the disappointment you are.

You can feel something inside of you is about to break. No, not just break - shatter.

“This whole time, your little friend here, has been working for me.” The smile Hades shoots at Thor churns your stomach, makes you want the grass around you to swallow you whole so you don’t have to see the look of absolute heartbreak on Thor’s face.

A dull peal of thunder rings, but it’s far off. The day is, otherwise, sunny. Annoyingly so.

You pull your face from Hades’ grip and try to scoot closer to Thor, but he leans back. It’s a subtle shift, but it’s all he can manage and all you need to know that he does not want you close. Not like you so desperately need to be.

“I-I tried to stop him-” you offer, but it comes out pathetic and defeated. “I couldn’t tell-”

He shakes his head. His bottom lip trembles, but you’re sure you’re the only one that sees it.

You can’t force yourself to keep eye contact with him as deserved and heated shame fills you. The thing - your heart - inside does, in fact, shatter. Into a million and a half pieces, now littering the field beyond the compound.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, folding in on yourself.

--

At first, Thor doesn’t let you help him up. But after a while, when his brain finally recognizes that his mass is too heavy for his ability, he lets you touch him. He pulls on you as lightly as he can, but you end up doing most of the work anyway. Somehow, you manage to get him standing.

The second he’s stable, he pulls away from you. You watch him slowly trudge back to the main compound building - or what you think is the main building, anyway. You still don’t get a good look at the grounds, but if you stray too far from Thor, you’ll never get to explain yourself.

At least you’re free, now. You know you are simply by feeling.

There was a weight before that no longer presses on the knot between your shoulder blades. It evaporated with the clouds that bound you.

But your freedom has come at the cost of every other living soul on the planet. And even you know that that is not a fair trade.

“Why did you do it?” you ask Thor. The only other sounds are occasional birds and the rustling of grass as the wind blows and the two of you walk.

“Why did you?” he asks, brows still lowered as he looks at you.

Silence reigns. You know your answer - you were drawn to him, you made rules to keep you both safe, and then you systematically broke each of those rules until you were so far deep in love with Thor that the only thing you could do was put his journey first.

The thought that he’d done the same for you should make you feel happy. Weightless. Loved.

But knowing what Hades will do because of that choice drowns out any semblance of positivity.

He continues through the compound - doesn’t stop at a bedroom, doesn’t find the kitchen to even attempt to replenish his energy. Thor just keeps going. And you follow him.

When he reaches the main doors of the building, you jog to step around him. “Where’re you going?” you ask.

“I have to find the others,” he says.

You shake your head. “You’re weak now,” you tell him.

The fire in his eyes is not the kind of fire you like. It’s not meant to make you feel wanted and secure. It burns you, just like he wants it to.

“If you go out there, you’ll die.”

He pushes around you and says, “There are worse things.”

[mlmdarkfiction]

*slam dunks* tell us about your OC Violet because he needs some love.

here’s some art of vi i did for when i was going to have a dbd ask blog for him. this isnt all the dbd violet art i have but. infact i don’t seem to have my favorite piece of art I did for DBD Violet

he started out as a self insert but I hate myself too much for that so he’s just a regular oc. 

Definition of dummy. 

There’s lots of different AU’s I have for him. 

He loves horror movies. His favorite two are Black Christmas 1974, and the first Scream.

In his DBD au he comes with an abandoned amusement park as a map, based on one he found deep in the woods behind his home which was Violet’s kind of happy place. 

No matter the AU Violet has a serious issue with blanking out and doing things (usually violent things) that he can’t remember

The first example of this was when he was in middle school and witnessed his brothers bf hit him. Violet blacked out and ended up killing the man.

You think that would mean he knew better than to get into a relationship that was toxic or abusive but...He didn’t. When Violet was in high school he ended up dating a man almost 20 years older than him. 

He stayed in the relationship long out of high school. Eventually (after his brother is released from Prison from taking the fall for the first killing Violet ever did) his brother managed to convince Violet to leave the man.

When Violet tries to leave the man he was attacked. He tried to slit Violet’s throat, and when it was clear he was still alive, although bleeding out, he called the police and said it was a suicide attempt using the very brief history of self harm Violet has as basis to have him put in impatient ater his neck healed. 

In another au I have (one I’m planning on expanding upon in the long term fic involving Leslie Vernon and another oc of mine) Violet is a serial killer having given in to his anger, and makes snuff films of his crimes to sell. 

In his regular canon aside from his occasional blacking out and lapses he’s a pretty normal guy. 

He loves horror and movies, and eventually starts to make movies of his own becoming kind of a Rob Zombie type of film maker. 

No matter the AU he loves knives and has a collection of knives streaming from “this good do a lot of damage” and “this couldnt even give me a papercut but damn it’s pretty”

Violet falls in love quick and fast. 

He kinda borderlines between is he a yandere or is he just?? intense. 

When Violet starts dating someone he’s like already mentally planning their marriage and to spend the rest of their lives together.

[watercolored-snufkin]

all of em :)))

You are the b e s t but also trying to kill me at the same time, and i love you

What was the last thing you read?

The lyrics to Holding Onto You (by twenty one pilots) (for slam poem inspiration whoot) but book-wise, it was The Kings Men (AFTG series) 

Favorite movie?

Ten Things I Hate About You (I haven’t watched it in a while because it was taken off of Netflix a long while ago but it’s still a big favorite of mine)

Favorite book?

Carrie by Stephen King (I have at least ...sixty post-it notes in that book just annotating everything I could)

Dream date?

Uh probably a museum date, I love museums like so much so

Do you have a crush?

Yeaaahhhh :)))

What are your hobbies?

Drawing, acting, musical theater, writing, ....is character study a hobby??

What’s your favorite time of day?

Around 2pm (yes that’s very specific I know) THAT or 1am-4am

If you could look like anything, what would you look like?

Easy, cis boy pleASE

Are you a romantic?

I’d like to think so?

What’s your favorite type of weather?

SPRING TIMMMEEEEEEE WHEN ITS NICE AND WARM AND SUNNY AND EVERYTHING IS JUST RIGHT

What do you like talking about?

Uhm, broadway, sharks, weird AFTG AUs I come up with, Exy (yaknow, the sport that doesn’t exist) 

If you got a tattoo, what would it be and where would you get it?

OKAY WAIT I HAVE A LISTsemicolon on my wrist“Fight because you don’t know how to die quietly” On my left arm“You don’t need to live forever you just need to live” also probably on my left armA watercolor tattoo with “Almost, Maine” probably on my shoulder or something??? “The opposite of war isn’t peace it’s creation” On my left arm (look buddy i want a sleeve of quotes whoops)

Do you want any pets?

b i r d. (Green cheeked conure) 

Dream job?

a c t i n g.

Dream place to live?

Uh I dunno, too many options and ideas I mean, I’d like to end up somewhere north, like Washington (the state not the district my guy) but heck idk

Dream vacation?

Ireland

Do you want any piercings?

I want to be edgy and get snake bites or something but at the same time n o t h a n k s yaknow?

If you had kids, what would you name them?

I dunno, that’s kind of a hard thing to determine before I’ve seen my kid yknow?? I plan on adopting, so really it all depends

What are your best traits?

I’d like to think I’m comforting, in some way? I dunno

Worst traits?

I’m really annoying

What’s your worst fear?

Not being able to transition due to some reason

What do you want to eat right now?

I dunno, yogurt tbh

What’s the best vacation you’ve been on?

I don’t know how to explain this any other way than this, the first family vacation we went on without my dad

Favorite city?

I haven’t been in many, but Boston is probably my favorite (don’t get me wrong, I love NYC, but shit Boston is so freaking amazing)

Favorite social media platform?

tumblr

Favorite article of clothing?

BAGGY SWEATSHIRRTSSS

Do you play any sports?

HA NOPE

Favorite meal of the day?

lunch

What are you excited for?

a lot of things, too many to list, whoops

Not excited for?

my geometry quiz at the end of the week

When was the last time you cried?

hmmmmmm 5 days ago

Dream house?

A nice two-story with a little bit of space yknow?

What’s something you hate about the world?

Ignorance

What’s something you love about the world?

sharks

What scents do you like?

OKAY THIS IS LIKE MY FAVORITE THING EVERI currently have an air freshener that smells like clove and cinnamon and ITS THE BEST

What kind of sleeper are you?

Depends, usually im a pretty heavy sleeper

Sweet or savory?

Savory, if something tastes too sweet I feel like death

Are you a cat or dog person?

both. You can’t make me choose

How long would you survive in a zombie apocalypse?

I hope at least a week

When do you feel safe?

Wrapped in a blanket listening to piano music

Are you trusting?

Uh yeah, but if you break my trust once it’s kind of hard to every redeem yourself

What fictional characters do you identify with?

Neil Josten, for multiple reasons (none of which have to do with a sports mafia though)

What labels do you commonly get?

quiet, theater nerd, emo, a gay(tm) (probably annoying too hh)

What song would be your life anthem?

On The Borderline

What issues are you dealing with right now?

What issues aren’t I dealing with right now?

How can someone win you over?

Just show like, interests in my passions. Actually listen when I’m rambling about something (I know that’s like basic human decency but I get told a lot to shut up or people just flat out don’t listen so...)

What’s something about you people don’t know?

Newsies wasn’t actually the musical that got me into broadway, it all started with Phantom of The Opera in 3rd grade :)

THAT TOOK ME FREAKING AGES TO DO WHAT EVEN M8

[myocacademia]

Wip idea

Apocalypse-tale au where the monsters escape from the underground but a year or so after there's a huge explosion that nukes the world and brings about the biggest zombie outbreak ever. Not only are there zombies but amalgamation are also roaming around. Along with the air being almost noxious to breath for humans, and a borderline death sentence for a monster. How can they survive but to go back underground??

This brings us to the present where a girl is being chased down, she has to ditch her clothes to get away. Luckily she stumbles apon a bunker before the air kills her. Pounding on the door she begs to be let in and as soon as she is she faints.

Waking up in an unfamiliar place surrounded by monster refugees. She's not scared but,,,if they knew she was apart of what happened to the world....they might not have been so kind...

[bepsibae]

Nostalgia | Fem/Bōsōzoku!AU

@ishiyxn

He was rarely around in the traditional areas of this town, let alone during broad daylight. It would be a suicide mission, being seen by others like that -- people would take the smallest mistake in order to rub it under his nose and make him a noose out of the situation, really. People were ruthless, no matter what they said about people like him -- gangsters, and such -- humans were disgusting.

For some reason, however, Yasutomo really had the urge to see this very ‘back-to-the-roots’ kind of area of town, almost feeling like a child again when he saw some women clad in kimonos for an upcoming festival, heading to the Tori and Shrine in order to make their wishes. He remembered going there with his family -- mom, dad, his two younger sisters -- it was really... a nice time, no matter how much he rebelled against all of them, it was a good time. And no matter how much he told his parents how much he hated them, and no matter how many times him and hid sisters got into fights that were borderline verbally abusive, he loved them. And they probably loved him, too. As proud as he was to be a gang leader, to be a free spirit among dead office-zombies who had a daily routine that was soul crushing and life crippling, it sure was a privilege in his eyes, not a curse. But sometimes ---- he was wondering if his family was really that proud of him, if they could meet him eye-to-eye or if they were shying away from him in shame. He wouldn’t have dared asking them face-to-face, he rather shied away himself; no matter how confronting of a personality he was, this was his family.

That soupçon of nostalgia practically carried him to the same Tori where all the girls and boys were heading. Despite him being unfitting to present himself in front of the Gods. As he looked up to the bright red Tori, gazing left and right to the school girls who passed him, some were mumbling about him (he just knew by the way they were looking at him, though he was not so sure if they admired him or were frightened), he decided to walk up the stairs and towards the Ema himself. ‘Wishes, huh...’ He thought to himself as he looked over the wooden plaques ---- sure, he had wishes. Things that his position as a gang leader couldn’t just give him. Affection, love; but he deemed these things rather... irrelevant to put on a wooden plaque, really. God, he really wanted to kick himself for even coming here now!!! It was just too sentimental.

As he turned to look around, that’s when it really stroke him: a woman in a kimono, she seemed a few years younger than him, but perhaps it was just her size? The long black hair, the bow on the back of her head... that was exactly the way one of his sisters would dress. Was that fate after all? Was he meant to come here and meet her? Was he supposed to be guided here only to see her and... start a conversation? For some reason his heart picked up pace, racing behind his ribcage ---- what if she really did not want to be seen with him?!

Putting aside his worries and fears, he did what he was best at -- head-on action without thinking it through too much. He just had to grab that chance as it was, and sure he did. Once he caught up to that petite woman, he reached for her shoulder and tried to turn her around, but instead decided to walk around her. “Yui-chan?” The taller blurted out before he could get a look of her face -- only then realising that this was not his sister but just a girl who bore a similar hair style -- gulping hard, he really felt embarrassed about this, instantly letting go of her shoulder as he stepped back. “Yo, I’m sorry... I thought you were someone else...” Clearly, he did not want her to start a ruckus for getting touched on the shoulder ---- the last thing he needed was the cops being called on his ass for mixing up a stranger for his sister, really.

[writing-yj]

Robin x Reader: The Bird Tattoo~Part Six (Soulmate AU)

A/n: Alrighty, let’s see how this goes. Prepare for a ton of angst, some gore/blood, and bad writing to be honest.

The various dishes in the kitchen sink clanked and clattered together as you washed a plate. It was your turn to do the mountain dishes, but you had no problem with it. You had time to think and the soapy bubbles brought you some form of entertainment. They looked so... interesting.

     You mimicked a wide variety of interesting noises to pass the time, just for fun. Such as a doorbell, a sprinkler, a standing ovation of applause, an excited guinea pig, the cry of an eagle, and a very loud air horn. 

     The air horn brought Robin skidding into the kitchen soon after. He looked alert and inquisitive; where did that noise come from? When he saw you standing there with a lopsided grin, he crossed his arms and huffed. “I should have known it was you.” Your mocking ability was truly remarkable. “Why are you just making random noises?”

     “I like using my powers. I can trick people, scare them, or make them laugh.” You shrugged and scrubbed at another plate. “Looks like I just tricked you.”

     Robin didn’t try to deny it. He couldn’t. “I haven’t been the first one and I won’t be the last.” He leaned on the counter and observed you cleaning the dirty dishes. No one had to worry about leftovers, since Wally leaves no food behind.

     You continued your chore in silence, even though Robin’s eyes were burning a hole in your back. You didn’t know what he wanted, or why he was staring at you, but you let it be. You assumed that he was just lost in thought, like you often did. Well, not quite like you did. You’d be very concerned if he became unresponsive and blank-faced.

     As Robin stared at you, the image of your (e/c) eyes was still fresh in his mind a day later. They were unlike any pair of eyes he’d ever seen. Your complexion was unique and beautiful. At school, he saw you as the gorgeous girl who defended him. Now that he discovered you to be Mockingbird, he wanted to take it back but he couldn’t. You were still (Y/n) (L/n), an attractive high school girl by day, a skilled and strong heroine by night.

     You liked Dick Grayson’s eyes from the start. His mask and sun glasses hid them from view. You were glad, too. Every time you saw those blue irises of his, your heart fluttered. And frankly, you hated that. You didn’t avoid him during school hours, but you only talked to him if he spoke to you first. Which was very rare anyway.

     “Am I allowed to talk to you at school or do you want me to avoid you like you’re a virus?” Robin questioned. In a way, you were a virus to him. He was drawn to you, and his stomach felt weird and different when you were around. It made him cautious.

     “The Robin wants to talk to me at school?” You asked shockingly. “I’m honored.” You giggled to yourself. You could sense his reluctance to ask. “I don’t care if you talk to me, just don’t act like you do here. It’ll make Artemis suspicious.”

     “I never said I wanted to talk to you there, only if I need to.”

     “You didn’t say that, either.”

     Robin didn’t answer. So there was another comfortable silence, and the huge pile of dishes was getting smaller at a tedious pace. Talking to Robin made it less boring, but you wished it would go by faster.

     You figured asking for help wouldn’t be a bad idea. “If you’re going to keep standing there, you might as well help with the dishes.” It didn’t really come out as a question like you intended.

     You heard Robin grumble, but he trudged on over to stand next to you. You handed him a spare wash cloth, and got to work. The cluster of dishes was now diminishing much faster, and an argument had yet to break out. Maybe this could turn into a mild and eventually calm friendship. You never did dislike him as much as he disliked you. His resentment cause you to feel the same about him; who would like someone who hated them? But the hostility had definitely dialed down.

     “I appreciate your help. It takes a lot off my,” You smirked. “Plate.”

     He turned a whacked your shoulder. “Really, Mockingbird? That was the worst pun I’ve ever heard.”

     “And your puns are better?”

     “Yes, significantly.”

     You elbowed him in the ribs, earning a grunt. “Yeah, and I’m not taller than you.” The mere two-inch difference didn’t stop you from teasing him,

     “I didn’t have to help you, you know.” Robin glared at you from behind his sunglasses. You still had your mask on from when you went out and about as Mockingbird for a bit, sweeping up a few low-lives. 

     You tilted your head and looked at him with a small smile. “But you did anyway.” You giggled when Robin abruptly looked away.

     He changed the subject as soon as possible. “What does your soulmate tattoo look like?” Robin had a strong feeling that you wouldn’t answer, at least not honestly.

     The sudden question made you drop the almost-clean spoon. “I remember saying that I wasn’t going to show you guys.” You grumbled. The last thing you wanted in your life was a soulmate, but that’s what your brain said. However, your heart wanted a soulmate so very badly. It was a natural instinct that no one could completely control. 

     “Yeah, you wouldn’t show us. Telling is different than showing.” Robin found a quick but feeble loophole, but it’s worth a try. “You don’t even have to be specific.”

     You contemplated telling him as you thought of the different outcomes it could cause. So far, he hadn’t breathed a word to anyone else of what you told him about you. Meaning that you trusted him enough to not tell anyone. But if he saw the tattoo on someone he knew, or even on himself, he could easily slip up and tell them. It was normal to want to assist a friend in finding their soulmate. You weren’t normal, though.

     “Well,” You picked up the spoon and scrubbed it vigorously. “It’s a lot more colorful than I expected. Too colorful for my liking.” You put the spoon with the other silverware a little rougher than necessary. “The last thing I need right now is a soulmate.”

     Robin knew that you didn’t like the whole soulmate deal, but he was curious as to why. “Why don’t you want one?”

     The question caused you to laugh outright. “Why would I want a soulmate when I lead the life I’m living right now? I fight bad guys and a mock noises when I’m not at school. I have more important things to focus on than a soulmate.” Plenty of people would find your words offensive and/or rude. You hoped Robin wasn’t one of them. “It’s a very unpopular opinion, but my priorities and expectations are different; someone at school said I should see a psychologist when she heard my thoughts on soulmates.”

     “But, uh,” Robin didn’t really know how to ask the question without giving you the wrong but right idea. “What would you do if you did find your soulmate?”

     “Honestly, I don’t really know.” You never came up with a backup plan. “I don’t want to bring someone I’m supposed to and going to care about into this life.”

     He simply nodded as you both finished the dishes. Robin, too, didn’t know what he’d do if he found his soulmate at his current age. There were only three days left until his tattoo would finally appear.

     Suddenly, just as you put away the last cup, the notification you all had been waiting for appeared after almost a week. “Finally, a mission!” Wally was already in his ‘uniform’ as he sped into the room. You and Robin jumped away from the sink just in time, without making Kid Flash suspicious.

You were as quiet as a mouse as you observed the shipment yard. The team was finally being sent to investigate the recent thefts of hazardous chemicals, the thefts you connected to The Doctor. You went over the mission briefing again in your head.

“This is the last shipment of chemicals for several months,” Batman went through the files on the large computer screen. The location was pinpointed in the top right corner. “If the pattern is correct, the culprit should show up in one of the main shipment yards of Gotham.” He pointed to said map that had a set of coordinates. 

“How are these chemicals so important?” Wally borderline whined. “This seems so... so simple and minor. Like a chore.”

Batman all but glared at him. “This mission is not a chore. The chemicals in question are extremely toxic and very dangerous if they fall into the wrong hands. “You seven need to stop the operation before they steal them again.”

     Something didn’t feel right to you. You prayed that it never was The Doctor behind this, that you just had a period of paranoia. Deep down, you knew that it was slowly driving you to the point of mental instability. This needed to be solved, so your body and mind could be put to rest. Over the past few days, you only got two hours of very light sleep, but nightmares woke you up constantly.

     “Mockingbird, do you see anything?” Aqualad asked through the mind link.

     “Not at the moment.” You replied as you bounced and leaped over the various structures to reach the main warehouse. “Anyone else?”

     “KF and I are in the warehouse, and there’s nothing here either.” Robin stated as he and Kid Flash crept around in the shadows.

     Miss Martian, Superboy, and Artemis had nothing to report. It frustrated you. You needed to know now. 

     Aqulad advised you and the team to stay alert and they all shifted positions. But not you; you didn’t go to where you were supposed to be. Instead, you looked down into the warehouse from one of the ceiling windows as Artemis and Miss Martian took their turn in the building. 

     Suddenly, several figures appeared from the shadows in the warehouse, but they didn’t look quite right. They were kind of staggering, completely emotionless and blank. Like zombies, almost. “Guys, we have company!” Artemis cried out through the mind link.

     You swung in through one of the lower windows, landing in the middle of them in front of Miss Martian. “What are these things!?” You were confused as hell. They still looked like real people, but alarmingly pale. Their skin was almost gray, and their eyes looked like they were blinded. At least their skin wasn’t torn or gouged out like zombies in movies.

     The rest of the team burst into the storage building, but the amount of undead enemies was increasing steadily. Not a good thing. You all fought them, punching and kicking them away as they grabbed at your bodies. They didn’t even seem phased with each blow, and it was very concerning. Nothing stopped them from going after you and the team; they could be thrown to the ground, but they got right back up.

     Robin rapidly threw down a gadget and yelled, “Step back! Lead them over these!” 

     You were barely out of the way when Robin activated them, which turned out to be small electrocution devices. You received a bit of a shock, and memories of The Doctor electrocuting you flashed before your eyes. You quietly cried out to shove them out of your head, and it worked, thankfully. If you couldn’t stop them from resurfacing, there was a high chance of you not being able to function properly.

     The devices worked, for the most part. A good portion of the ‘zombies’ were left immobile, and looked permanently deceased. You saw a tall shadow out of the corner of your eye, one you knew all to well. Sudden destructive anger and desire overtook you, and you followed it with great determination.

     “Mockingbird, no!” You heard Aqualad shout as he threw another enemy off him. “We need you here!” The team was already struggling, despite their remarkable abilities and strengths and skills. But you ignored Aqualad, and the others. You wanted to get this over with. You needed to fight The Doctor. You needed to end him. You needed to kill him. With all your might, you forcibly disconnected from Miss Martian’s mind link. It was a very difficult task.

     You didn’t feel tired at all as you jumped great lengths and heights to follow the mysterious figure, who you were sure to be The Doctor. You were blinded by rage, but that was a horrible side affect to the experiments. You didn’t come out as a perfect, flawless Mockingbird without complications. PTSD was expected, though.

     In the end, you both landed on the roof, with his back facing you. When his eerie voice floated through the air, your worst fears came true.

     “Well, well, well. It looks like my little bird has improved.” He turned around and you were met with a set of crazed yellow eyes and a creepy smile. The Doctor was alive, and it felt like your heart was being squeezed.

     The wind was knocked out of you, but it didn’t stop you from flying at him with an outraged cry. “You’re supposed to be dead!” Your voice wavered, just a little. The zombified people, you realized, were the people going missing. They couldn’t be fixed, not anymore.

     “They never found remains, darling! You all assumed I was blown to pieces,” The Doctor dodged and blocked most of your hits, and he socked you right in the jaw and the stomach. The pain was sharp, but dulled in mere seconds. 

     The fight went on, and he ended up with a broken nose and you got a busted lip. You were both pretty beaten up, but he was the one who originally trained you to be a mindless weapon, meant to follow every order of his to take revenge on his former colleagues. He wasn’t the only one bent on revenge anymore. It was your turn to thirst for vengeance. 

     You hand the upper hand for a few short moments, but that was all you needed. You flipped The Doctor over and threw him right throw a ceiling window. As he fell, you jumped down after him with the intention to take his life. 

     He landed and stumbled on his feet, but regained his footing when you landed in front of him. Broken glass and the bodies of the mindless creatures surrounded you, and the team was laying off to the side, exhausted and nursing their injuries. You paid no mind to them, only concentrating on The Doctor.

     The team was startled to see such an insane-looking man in front of them, and they put two and two together. This was The Doctor, your mortal enemy who took away everything you cared about. They wanted to help you, they really did, but they were all injured in some way. You were definitely going to get in trouble for leaving them, but in that moment, you didn’t care.

     It was concerning when The Doctor whipped out a rather large and sharp scalpel. Luckily, you had experience with dealing with armed criminals. “Your friends look confused,” He snickered, but grunted when you landed a blow. “Did you not tell them about your father? I did make you what you are today, after all.”

     “You’re not my father, you son of a bitch!” You roared after he nicked your shoulder. It barely bled; not deep enough for stitches.

     “I thought your mother taught you manners, my dear!” His scalpel came dangerously close to cutting your neck. 

     You wanted to feel brave, but you were terrified. This was the man who haunted your nightmares and lurked in the dark corners of your head. This man caused you so much pain, so much suffering, and changed your life in ways you didn’t think were possible. Adrenaline was kicking in swiftly, and it soon came down to fighting to maim but also fighting to survive. You had to choose fight or flight, and you violently forced yourself to fight; there was no time for flight. You were pushing yourself past your limits without realizing it.

     “She didn’t get to teach me much, thanks to you.” You snarled and kicked him in the stomach. 

     The Doctor shouted in pain and doubled over. But you went to kick his head, which could very well end up to be a killing blow, and he caught your foot just in time. He twisted your leg painfully, but you rolled to prevent him from breaking it. You needed your leg very much; you’d rather not be impaired for a few weeks.

     The mentally exhausted Miss Martian screamed when The Doctor’s scalpel swung at your head, and it would easily cause you to bleed out. You moved back as fast as you could, but it caught your mask and ripped it off. Superboy, Aqualad, Miss Martian, and Kid Flash saw your face for the first time. But they didn’t get to see it for long. Everything was all happening so fast. 

     You were so distracted by the loss of your mask that he swiped his scalpel at you again. This time, he left a three-inch cut that went across your collar bone. You lurched back, and another down stroke cut your jaw. Barely an inch long.

     Robin found the strength and ignored the pain in his ribs to jump up and help you, and he shoved The Doctor as hard as he could. “Mockingbird, move!” 

     But he was much stronger than Robin. He barely budged. You prevented him from throwing Robin to the wall by punching his cheek hard enough to cut it. “Don’t you dare touch him!” You shouted, suddenly feeling very protective. The blood running down your skin was disturbing, but the cuts weren’t horribly deep.

     “Looks like you deeply care about him, little bird! Ah, young love. How sickening.” The Doctor sneered as you stood defensively in front of the wounded Robin. You felt a surge of endearment and attachment for him and you didn’t bother to push it away this time.

     “Go to hell, you-” You started to snap at him, but his next movements were a blur. 

     You were yanked away from Robin with a cry. The Doctor landed an absolutely brutal kick to your chest, and you soared through the air. “Mockingbird!” Your teammates cried out before you crashed through a window. 

     You hit the ground with a thud. You skidded a few feet and eventually slip to a stop. Your body ached and your mild cuts burned when you moved to look at the now destroyed window. There was a small trail of blood leading to you, but it wasn’t anything too serious. Yet.

     Your head fell back and you closed your eyes for a couple seconds. When you opened them, bright yellow eyes and an insane smile were all you saw. You let out a blood curdling shriek as fear ultimately seized your body. You were so scared that it hurt. You couldn’t move to shield yourself; the terror left you rigid.

     The Doctor’s hand wrapped around your throat, but he stroked it instead of strangling you. “Until next time, my little Mockingbird.” He cackled, and then he was gone. Your skin still tingled where he stroked your blood-smeared skin, and your breathing was jagged and uncontrollable. You couldn’t tell if you were crying or not.

     You thrashed around when you felt someone picking you up, and your eyes shot open, ready to either die or feel more pain. But you saw Black Canary’s face, not The Doctor’s. You were in her safe and motherly arms. Your beloved teammates, your new family, must have contacted them during your failed battle.

     “I told you he was alive,” You wailed out pitifully and you let yourself go limp in her arms. You didn’t want to struggle anymore. “I told you!” Your words were slightly muddled, but your words were still easy to comprehend. “You didn’t listen, none of you did-!...” You weren’t even loud anymore. The volume was weak. You were trying to be angry because you genuinely were, but you weren’t strong enough to feel so intense.

     Tears were brimming in Dinah’s eyes. “I know, Mockingbird, I know.” She brushed your hair away from your face. “And we’re so sorry.” She didn’t want to be too affectionate in front of your team and hers, and it was hard not to. 

     You saw some of the other Justice League members around you. Batman was stone faced, as usual. But there was some guilt you didn’t see. Wonder Woman was clearly sympathetic, Flash was helping your team along with Green Lantern, Green Arrow was standing next to Black Canary with a hand on her shoulder, and Superman was observing from afar. He was the only Justice League member you clashed with; you avoided him as often as you could. Superman also looked a little guilt-stricken, but he went over to Conner soon enough.

Conner supported Kaldur and M’gann as they left the building, and Artemis managed to walk on her own as Wally and Robin supported each other. They watched as you, an ambitious and protective teammate, getting carried by Black Canary to safety. You were never injured like this on a real mission before, and they finally had a good idea on how sinister and destructive The Doctor was. They were torn apart when you were cut open, and even more so when you went out the window.

     But bits and pieces of them were upset with you. Yes, you faced The Doctor to protect them and keep him from stealing, but you also went after him for your own reasons. You fought him for revenge, leaving them behind to battle unknown creatures that were only defeated by electricity and sadly, being crushed. They were once real people with real lives and families, but they were too far gone to be saved.

     Robin was the exact opposite of traught. You were kicked through the window like you weighed nothing, because you were protecting him. He knew it was his fault this Justice League didn’t listen. It was his fault that you had no evidence to show him. If he never did that, none of this would have happened.

     You were in for one hell of a pickle when you woke up

A/n: This is terrible, I’m literally running on like, 20oz of Monster. I’m sorryyyyy.

[volleyboys-imagines]

more HP Au! headcanons ?? Maybe little fun hcs about whats happening in the Ravenclaw house ??

oh no. Not these guys. no no no no no—

Lemme get this straight first (you’ll probably need it):

Fifth Years: Sugawara, Kuroo, Hanamaki, Konoha

Fourth Years: Fukunaga, Kenma, Akaashi

Third Years: Tsukishima, Kunimi

If anything, the greatest headcanon I have of the Haikyuu!! Ravenclaws is that they’re also great tricksters. I guess the Weasley legacy rubbed off on them, but it’s mostly because someone started it

Most tricks are usually well-planned and well-played, most well-meaning and others…well, offensive

Depending on the mood or day, someone usually gangs up on someone else.

example: on a rainy day, Tsukki and Kunimi would be in a good enough mood to play tricks on Suga and Konoha, who get sullen under rain or overcast weather. On sunny days, it’s the reverse

save maybe fukunaga. Fukunaga’s naturally mischievous

Nobody dares play tricks on Kenma, although they allow Kenma to play tricks against them. This is because Makki and Konoha once recolored Kenma’s hair into a distasteful neon green and white, and faced the smol kitty’s wrath

Kuroo joins in, but he also keeps everyone in line. To this day, nobody knows how he manages to balance both.

Akaashi laughs in the sidelines, but will also step in if things get too rough

Tricks include, but are not limited to: disguising items, transfiguring stuff,

Masterminds of the best (well-planned and well-meaning) to worst (unfair/borderline Slytherin) pranks: Kenma & Akaashi, Suga, Kuroo, Fukunaga, Hanamaki, Konoha, Kunimi, Tsukki, Kuroo, Suga, Kenma & Akaashi

Well, usually they pull pranks on each other. It’s kind of a rule that Kuroo made once the fighting had gotten bad enough that Konoha affected the whole damn class (so there are Hufflepuffs, Slytherins, and Gryffindors), and cost the whole house some 200 points. So now all Ravenclaw pranks are limited to the Tower

Oh, but mess with them, and you’ll get the claws (or The Last Four On the Best/Worst Tricks Explained)

One time the fifth-year Slytherins decided to play the ‘bully & victim’ game with Kenma after he gained points for Ravenclaw over winning a debate, and he came back to Ravenclaw Tower with torn books, notebooks, robes.

Needless to say, Kuroo was enraged. He nearly stormed out the door that night ready to knock on the Slytherin’s door and punch the daylights out of ‘em, but Akaashi stopped him ofc

Everyone else was just as mad. So they plotted in secret.

The Slytherins didn’t know why the potions exploded in their face, causing everyone in the room to have pink hair and boils. (Kuroo had slipped something in one of their cauldrons, causing a slight ‘miscalculation’ in the potion. ‘Luckily’, Kuroo knew how to take care of it. -75 points Slytherin for endangering the class, +75 to Ravenclaw for Kuroo’s bravery and quick thinking)

Although a Slytherin cast the spell, it was actually Suga that finished it, since that Slytherin was an idiot enough not to have properly memorized it. The thing that was transmuted became a zombie dog. Fukunaga led a teacher to the scene, where Suga was attempting to defend the crowd from a bloodthirsty canine. -50 points Slytherin for illegal (and dangerously wrong) transmutation, + 50 Ravenclaw for knowing how to stop it.

In Transfiguration, Hanamaki was trying a new spell. Incidentally, it turned all the Slytherins’ green and white robes into red and gold. They didn’t notice, and Hanamaki didn’t know why nothing happened. The Slytherins lost some 20 points for ‘impersonating’ and ‘mocking’ the Gryffindors. Akaashi knew how to turn them back, for some reason. That some 20 points was awarded to Ravenclaw for restoring order. To this day, people were still laughing about Hanamaki’s mistake turned glorious revenge

Everyone knew Konoha was really good with crafting pretty much anything, and in the school he was the go-to for stocks like firecrackers. Usually he sold to the Slytherins, who used them for waking up the late kids, and Konoha usually sold things that did no harm (just things going pop-pop, no more). But this time they wanted something from him, but remembering Kenma he said he didn’t have the ingredients, and they would need to get them for him since he didn’t have time. Still wanting to have the firecrackers, they agreed. Take note that these ingredients didn’t come easy, they were sold in fairly large quantities, and smuggling them into the school was a crime that could lead to immediate expulsion. Usually Konoha made these things at home and brought them into school, where these firecrackers had very little of this ingredient; therefore, he wouldn’t get caught. Now, when these Slytherins got caught with it, they tried to rat a passing Konoha out. Konoha, of course, knew the specific regulation that said that such materials were not allowed on campus due to their dangerous nature, something the Slytherins overlooked. -200 points Slytherin for endangering the campus/student body, and suspension for the culprits. -50 points Ravenclaw for possession (which the professor couldn’t really prove, considering Konoha didn’t have any more on him)

Tsukishima once pointed out a mistake at the Slytherin table next to his and Kunimi’s in Potions. The Slytherins basically told him to eff off, but the professor said Tsukki was right. +10 points Ravenclaw

Ravenclaw and Gryffindor were neck and neck by winter break that year, all because of the Ravenclaw’s precious smol kitty

oh yeah most of these are as if Ravenclaw was suddenly brave, but actually these kids have these tricks tried and tested, so it’s not even a matter of courage, but a matter of safety (and intelligence-gathering) they were thinking about. That, and possible future revenge

whew, on to the next hcs

Nobody knows how Kuroo got to be a prefect, and subsequently a House Boy, but everyone knows Akaashi will be one come his fifth year

Kuroo makes the best Charms (which either makes him a total nerd or a real charmer) and his favorite class becomes Arithmancy in his sixth year (which confirms him being a total nerd). Akaashi and Suga are best at Alchemy. Fukunaga has a knack for the Defence Against the Dark Arts. Kunimi and Kemna are better at Potions. Hanamaki and Konoha, ofc, are also great at Charms. 

Kuroo once tried to out-Charm Makki and Konoha in order to win a cute Gryffindor’s heart. He succeeded, but they weren’t interested in nerds.

Kuroo was super depressed after that

Suga’s actually friends with Daichi. They hang out sometimes in the courtyard.

Kuroo used to tease Daichi, but once he found out that Daichi was a-ok he started hanging out with Daichi too

Fukunaga will always find something funny about something, but never about someone.

The instant Kenma learned how to summon his patronus, which is a Fennec, it’s as if he’s kept it as a pet instead

The instant everyone knew Kuroo was made a prefect, everyone was shocked. As in, “Who the hell was in their right minds to even make you a prefect?!” But nobody complained. After all, he was the one who gave the rule (note: gave, not suggested) of limiting pranks to the Tower after Konoha’s Big Miss (the -200 points thing).

Akaashi’s always had Exceeds Expectations and above in all his OWLs. The only other student that could match him was Kuroo (who only lost to Akaashi because of his History of Magic and Ancient Runes OWLs; he really hated non-practical or written-only subjects).

Tsukishima’s good at Astronomy.

Hanamaki once sipped butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks’ bar, and turned his head to this unfortunate brunet stranger beside him. The rest of the Ravenclaws had to bring him home after starting a scene with this stranger, who turned out to be Slytherin’s Matsukawa. Matsukawa had tried to get this Hufflepuff girl to like him, but because he was tall and scary af as well he tried slipping her a love potion. Hanamaki had drunk it by accident instead.

oi i don’t know if you guys know about Mahoutokoro but there’s so little info on it i just did it original Hogwarts style

oh and anon i blame you for all the research i had to do and the fun i had writing this stuff (and relearning my hp stuff) ;-;