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in-tua-deep · 3 years

Note

au where five found out about vanya's powers in the apocalypse? Like maybe he found Reggie's book or he saw the eyes of vanya's corpse?

oh man like. that would be interesting to be sure, if Five managed to find Reginald’s book in the apocalypse

(He doesn’t read it at first, not for a few months after he finds it. He opened to the page that detailed Reginald’s experiments with how long Deigo could hold his breath in clinical unfeeling words and has to put it away while he breathed - not too deeply though, he didn’t want to breathe in more ash than necessary)

But he eventually does. He sits Dolores up and rages and vents to her, cursing Reginald’s name with every new sordid detail, every new terrible sin he now knows to hurl at Reginald’s feet. He reads no great loss under his section and he’s too dehydrated to weep but something breaks inside his chest nevertheless

(He’d never thought that dad loved them, not really. He might have hoped, back when he was little but he knew better now. He was thirteen, old enough to know better. But he’d at least thought that dad found them useful.

Five had tried to hard, trained so much, been so adaptable. Even then he was no great loss.)

Five finds out from Reginald’s book about Ben’s death. Cold words that describe the way his brother died. Reginald seemed to care more about Ben’s death than Five’s presumed death, but that could be becuase Ben’s power was always bigger than Five’s. More violent. More efficient. Of course Ben was a greater loss, Five’s power wasn’t even inherently useful for fighting.

(Klaus’s power wasn’t useful for fighting either. Reading Dad’s dismissive words calling Klaus a failure makes him bristle. Reading about Reginald locking Klaus away in the mausoleum for days make Five want to hurl the book against the wall.)

Finding out about Vanya is - it’s weird. Vanya was always so ordinary. He loved her of course, for fucks sake he was the only one who cared to interact with her half the time. He loves all of his siblings but he has no illusions about how casually cruel they could be to one another.

But he reads about her powers and clenches his fists and wonders what Reginald would have done if Five had stayed, if Five had kept on his path of rebellion. Would Reginald have drugged him, too?

(Reginald had the power to take their powers away. Five wonders what Klaus thought when he found out, if he had cursed and sworn and raged at the man who watched his son suffer and turn to drugs to deal with seeing things no child should ever see. Reginald had the power to help, and he tortured Klaus instead.)

Because - of course Five assumes that they know. He reads Vanya’s books as well when he comes across it, tucking it into his wagon. He wonders when the truth came out, because the rage that drips from those pages is very real. Vanya doesn’t mention her powers in the book of course, but she would have been what, in her 20s when she wrote it?

Vanya said in her book that she left home at 18, which means she’s had years to get the drugs out of her system and discover what their father had taken from her. Did she think that they knew? That they had kept it from her? Is that why the pages of her book drip with bone deep hurt, making Five’s fingers shake with the ache of them

(Or it could be the hunger, a now constant companion)

Five keeps both books close, even though he wants to vandilize Reginald’s book half the time. It’s strange to see the insight on them and their powers from the perspective of a scientist, odd to see the written results of the torture they went though

(He almost rips the page on the effects of electricity on his warping powers out on principle, but he just ends up curled around Dolores as he trembles involuntarily at the memories)

Five has so few belongings when he is recruited to the Commission, or at least has very few personal ones. He leaves Dolores behind in the apocalypse with a heavy heart but she’s too big to take with him. Too big to hide.

(Five always learned to only take what you can hide, because what you can’t hide will always be used against you.)

He tucks Reginald’s notebook in the waistband on his pants, the hard edges against his back a constant almost reassuring pressure. Vanya’s book gets pushed into one of his deep pockets. The glass eye gets shoved into his sock the same way he used to hide scavenged bills and quarters he would then place beneath the floorboards of his room

(He wonders absently if his money stash was ever found, but it doesn’t really matter now does it?)

He goes through the Commission with the knowledge that he has a bomb hidden away. As much as he keeps the notebook around out of a sense of sentiment he knows he doesn’t want it to fall into the hands of the commission, doesn’t want them to have this dissection of his powers on hand

(he has so little of his siblings left, just the bitter words of Reginald and Vanya both - the irony is that no matter how much Vanya extolled being excluded she had constantly been by Reginald’s side to write down observations, listening to his words, by his side more than any of them. sometimes he reads Vanya’s vicious words and hears the echo of their father in them. It makes sense. He still hates it, just a little bit)

He writes his equations into Vanya’s book instead of Reginald’s. He doesn’t like to read the red book, only opens it to look at the photos included so that he won’t forget what his siblings look like, tries to ignore the words that detail exactly how much force it takes to pop Luther’s bones out of his oh-so-durable joints

He solves them one day, or at least comes close. Closer than he ever had before, and he figures why not? Time for another little experiment. Who knows? Maybe he’ll add this one to dad’s book.

He pushes, and pushes, and then he falls and he’s in a courtyard he hasn’t seen in decades staring at people he hasn’t spoken to in just as long. He looks at them all with wide eyes

(He looks at Allison and hears his father’s clipped tone stating how Allison in improving at overriding survival instincts, he looks at Luther and hears Vanya’s childish voice accusing him of caring more about being a hero than anything else in his life, including his family, he looks at Klaus and sees a face covered in ash and blood with unseeing eyes)

He looks down at himself and sees smaller hands with smoother skin, absent of the burn marks from the variety of fires he’d set in the apocalypse, absent of the crooked knuckles from when he’d crushed two fingers in some rubble trying to get to a can of food, absent of the cracked and brittle nails from malnutrition and food issues

“Shit.” He says, with feeling.

He can feels the press of the glass eye against his leg, the solid weight of Vanya’s book in his pocket, the edges of Reginald’s notebook digging into his skin as he hauls himself off the ground and into a standing position.

They have a family meeting in the kitchen.

Sort of. Five flits about, snagging bread and peanut butter and marshmallow fluff from the cupboard to make himself a sandwich, trying to avoid looking too desperately eager. He hasn’t had his favorite food in so long that the anticipation is actually insane.

“What’s the date?” Five asks, and learns that he doesn’t actually have all that long until the end of the world. But hey, it’s doable. Probably. Unless the reason the world ended was like, political nuclear war or something? But there would probably be survivors of that somewhere, so it was more likely something bigger scale.

(It has to be something he can stop, or this was all for nothing. He refuses to believe he doesn’t have a chance.)

“Cool, so like, the world is ending.” Five says, because why the fuck not? He has all his siblings in one room (except Ben, he has failed Ben, will always have failed Ben because he’s a coward who couldn’t return to a time when Reginald Hargreeves was alive) and he has Reginald and Vanya’s words pressed into his brain, “We have eight-ish days to fix that.”

“Five, what the hell are you talking about?” Luther demands.

Five waves his hand, “Dad sucked, I time-travelled, the end is nigh. I figured even you could grasp that.”

(His eyes ghost over Luther, skittering about the room. He can’t look at Luther’s body without remembering the cruel diagrams pain stakingly inked into the book as Reginald grumbled about failed experiments.)

“You went to the future?” Diego says, voice full of doubt that make his voice harsh. It’s so much deeper than when Five left, no more of the cracks of puberty.

“No shit.” Five says, and he’s so tired. “I was in that hellscape for forty-five years.”

“Forty-five years?” Diego squawks, as though he’s personally offended.

“That would make you... fifty-eight?” Luther’s voice also has doubt in it, and Five can’t really blame him looking at his squishy little barely teenage body.

“Dad was right,” Five manages to get out without gritting his teeth, “Time travel is a crapshoot and sometimes your body does fun and wacky things on you, blah blah blah trees and acorns.”

“Prove you’re from the future!” Klaus demands, eyes bright as he leans across the table, “What’re the lotto numbers, baby brother?”

“I think they’re ‘fuck you the world had already ended by the time I ended up stuck there,’ Klaus.” Five says, mock thoughtfully before tearing off a chunk of his sandwich.

It tastes like ash and peanut butter. Only Five’s genuine trauma regarding food waste and the fact that most things tasted like ash in the apocalypse have him still chewing his food and swallowing.

“Rude.” Klaus says, making a ‘blat’ noise in disappointment.

“Dad’s rich as fuck, wasn’t him kicking the bucket essentially like winning the lottery?” Five points out, and this time it is Luther squawking at him in disapproval.

“Don’t talk about Dad like that!” He demands, and Five has some more uncharitable thoughts about the way Luther’s arms flex just a little unnaturally underneath that big trenchcoat.

“I like this version of Five better.” Klaus declares, looking like Christmas has come early.

“Dad was murdered and you guys don’t even care.” Luther spits out, looking very offended.

“You were murdered and I care very much about that.” Five retaliates, and the entire kitchen goes quiet.

“Can you elaborate a little, Five?” Allison says, ever the diplomat.

(That’s a lie. Allison started more fights than Diego, probably. She just got caught way less often.)

“Well. I mean, I dunno if murdered is the right word considering everyone was dead. You might have just been collateral damage, who knows? Does murder imply intent?”

“Everyone was dead?” Vanya says, voice very quiet.

Five shrugs, then nods, then shrugs again. He doesn’t like thinking about it. “Yeah, but that’s not going to happen this time.”

“I don’t have time for this nonsense.” Luther mutters, and Five valiantly tries to ignore him.

“Five, are you - are you sure you’re alright?” Vanya’s voice wobbles and she looks like she wants to reach out and hold him or something ridiculous like that. She looks at him with big sad brown eyes, “Dad did say that time travel could... mess with you a little.”

Allison nods and oh, Five does not have time for this bullshit.

“I have proof.” He says, and he reaches back and pulls out Reginald’s red notebook and slams it onto the table.

“Is that Dad’s - ” Luther cuts himself off, looking at the notebook with wide eyes.

It is very clearly beaten up to hell and back. Ash has stained the edges of the pages grey and there may or may not be a gouge across the front from a near miss with a bullet while working at the commission. It is a book that has clearly been through hell.

Five also dig’s Vanya’s equally beaten up book from his pocket to dump on the table as well, equally stained with ash and barely held together after being read over and over again for decades, including being used as a notebook in the final years.

(Vanya lets out a little gasp, hand flying up to her mouth with the knowledge that at least one of her siblings read her book. Certainly not the one she thought it would be.)

Five reaches into his sock to pull out the glass eye triumphantly, setting it down on his small stack of treasures.

“What the fuck?” Diego is the one to ask.

“If I time travelled from that day in 2002 to right now, how the fuck would I have Vanya’s book?” Five says triumphantly, “It came out in 2015.”

“Why do you have an eye?” Allison sounds slightly horrified.

“It’s the key to figuring out who caused the apocalypse.” Five says, turning it over in his hands, “It’s gotta have something to do with it at least.”

“Why does he have Dad’s notebook?” Luther demands, sounding equally outraged.

“Found it.” Five shrugs, like the little scavenger he is.

(Emphasis on little. His suit still almost fits, and reading the numbers in Reginald’s notebook versus seeing how fucking tall all his siblings got in person is frankly unfair.)

“Oh my god, okay.” Allison says, throwing her hands up in the air like they’re all nuisances. It’s a familiar Allison look, and Five actually feels a little soothed by the memory. “So the world is ending, Five is back from the dead, and our only clue is a goddamn eye?”

“I was never dead.” Five points out, “But basically, yeah.”

“I don’t have time for this, I have to get back to my daughter.” Allison says, shaking her head.

“I mean if you want Claire to live I would think stopping the apocalypse would kind of be a priority.”

This draw Allison to a halt from where she’d been gathering herself to leave, “You... know her name?”

Five makes the executive decision to not mention the torn out magazine cover featuring his sister and niece that is pressed between some of the pages in Reginald’s journal. “I’d like to meet her one day.”

Just like that, Allison has been won over.

“Do you think it has something to do with whoever murdered Dad?” Luther asks seriously, even if the question makes Diego groan like this is an argument they have had before.

“Who knows?” Five shrugs, “But if we’re splitting into investigation teams, I call Vanya.”

Vanya startles from where she has been sitting quietly, “Me?” She asks, eyes wide.

“Yeah.” Five nods, “I mean, with Ben gone you’re probably the team’s heaviest hitter.”

“What?” Several voices ring out in confusion.

Five blinks, a little confused himself. Unless - “Wait, did you never train your powers?”

“Five,” Vanya says slowly, like she’s explaining a simple concept to a particularly dim child, “I don’t have powers.”

This was - this was unexpected. Why did he not think of this explanation? It’s just - he has now known about Vanya’s powers for like way longer than he hasn’t. It’s almost second nature to think of Vanya as having powers by now. And she doesn’t know.

“Oh boy.” He says, picking up Reginald’s notebook, “This debriefing may take a bit longer than I first thought. Oh, and at some point we should probably cut the tracker out of my arm as well.”

“The what out of your what?”

Yeah the day doesn’t really get much better from there.

#the red book au #five finds reggie's journal in the apocalypse #and so he is very familiar with his sister's powers!! isn't that fun #he's also like 50% more spiteful because actually Fuck Reginald Hargreeves #he is the president of the Dad Sucks Club #because he has the notebook he's been essentially planning his apocalypse game plan for years #with the power of strategy and knowing his siblings powers inside out #or at least to the extent reggie understood them #so he's much more MISSION REPORT when he gets to 2019 #time to debrief the squad on what the fuck is up #five lets the cat out of the bag so early lmao #fuck u leonard #five: haha yeah i want vanya on my team so i can see her sick ass powers in action #the family: her WHAT #five: *surprised pikachu face*#five has spent so long in the apocalypse with dolores who knows what he is thinking #that he struggles with the concept that people don't know what he knows sometimes #me pointing at vanya's book and reginald's notebook: there are both traumatizing to read #Anonymous #long post #far tua long

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oss-crime · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2-Project “Ma” –Eve–; Scene 6

Original Sin Story: Crime, pages 56-69

One of the cities that made up the Twelve Royal Capitals was the city of Asmouse.

This town, managed by senate member Ceci Vaju, was the place where the historical backing of the Twelve Royal Capitals was most pronounced.

The people who had once began the excavation of the god’s legacy in this area—Senator Vaju was a descendant of theirs, and he was also a very passionate researcher of artifacts.

Fumbling for a way to more effectively utilize these artifacts, Senator Vaju founded the Royal Research Institute in Asmouse with permission from the previous queen. He entrusted the position of first director to a friend who shared his passion, Horus Solntse.

As their initial goal implied, the Royal Research Institute’s research wound up contributing greatly to the development of Leviantan engineering, weaponry, and living wares. The artifacts could be made to work with magical power, but Horus and the other researchers progressively discovered more effective operating procedures, and brought yet more glory to the Magic Kingdom.

Meanwhile, Senator Vaju and Horus also used the institute to pursue a different avenue of research.

That was “to deliberately create people who have strong magical abilities”. In other words, it was to make a candidate for the next queen be born under the domain of Senator Vaju, and was also necessary research for him to obtain the position of the next senate head.

But that research had proved to be much rougher going than anticipated, and Horus had passed away from illness before they could achieve any results.

Horus had an adopted son named Adam, and he was, too, a skilled scientist. For that reason he was hired on by Senator Vaju as the new head of the institute, and he also inherited their research—the “Next Queen Project”.

--That “Next Queen Project” had now changed its name to “Project Ma”, and was proceeding under the supervision of Head Senator Miroku.

…Most of that was inconsequential to Eve.

The important thing was the fact that Eve was, at present, the strongest candidate they had for “Ma”.

Not having much interest in science herself, Eve could only conclude that the Royal Research Institute was a cold, unappealing place.

“Wish I could have had a more comfortable chair.”

Adam gave a slightly troubled smile at Eve’s complaint, handing her a cup with a liquid in it.

“We’ll give that a fix the next time we’re making a device to test magical ability. But for right now this is all we’ve got…Well, anyway, give this is a drink if you like.”

“…What’s this?”

“It’s a drink called coffee. It’s not spread much outside the capital, so it’s understandable if you’ve never heard of it.”

With Eve’s mood souring more under the impression that she was being made fun of as a country hick, she brought the brown liquid to her lips.

“—It smells good. But it’s a little bitter.”

“It’s got a lot of milk and sugar in it. Drinking it should help you calm down a bit.”

“I think I’d be a lot calmer if I could get these wires off my arms and legs.”

“We need them to get an accurate reading of your magic. …It’ll take a little bit of time, so please try to be patient.”

The measuring device they’d used in the village of Nemu was a simpler, portable model.

Though, it wasn’t the fault of that device that they hadn’t gotten an accurate result back then.

“That spoon…is also extremely curious to me, as a scientist,” Adam said, brandishing the blue spoon that Eve used instead of a staff.

“At a glance it looks like a normal, bland item….But it can increase or decrease the magical ability of its owner at will. In other words it can amplify magic and also temporarily put a seal on it—”

“My mother gave it to me.”

“Did she make it?”

“I don’t know. I never learned that.”

“This might also be a legacy piece…Well, we’ll deal with that later.”

Adam set the spoon on a nearby table, and then drew closer to a large box that was next to the chair Eve was sitting in.

“Well, let’s get started.”

He pushed up a lever that was attached to the box.

Suddenly feeling slightly dizzy, Eve fell back a bit in the chair.

“I’m…a bit nauseous.”

“It’ll go away. We have to check to see if that powerful spell you used in the forest…was because of the spoon, or your own magical ability.”

“How…long will it take?”

“Hmm…About an hour, I think.”

“That long!?”

“It’s not like you have to keep perfectly still the whole time. Though you can’t leave the chair. You can drink coffee, or if you’re hungry I can bring you something to eat.”

“Then—” After looking up at the ceiling for a moment, Eve continued, “Can I talk?”

“With me? …Of course, I don’t mind.”

“Then…I want you to tell me something.”

“What is it?”

“About the ‘Witch of Merrigod’.”

Adam’s expression stiffened. “Why would you want to—”

“She’s the one who murdered the father who raised me. Isn’t it only natural that I would want to know about her?”

“What will you do with this information?”

“…Not sure.”

Eve herself didn’t know the answer to that question.

But—

“I can’t just go on not knowing.”

“…”

“Assuming I’ll become queen someday, I mean.”

“…I see. Yes, perhaps…so.” After gazing fixedly at Eve’s face, Adam steeled himself and then started to talk. “The ‘Witch of Merrigod’—Meta Salmhofer was originally an ‘Ma’ candidate.”

“You told me that earlier. But you said she was discarded for being cruel?”

“Yes. If you go southeast of the capital—far, far further east than the village of Nemu where you live, there is a place called Merrigod Plateau. That area is a dangerous region, used as a stronghold by a certain group.”

“…You mean the ‘red devotees’?”

“No, to be accurate those are little more than a single unit of this group. The name for them as a whole—is ‘Apocalypse’. There are some people who say they’re a simple crew of bandits, and there are others who caution that they’re an anti-social organization that seeks to overthrow the kingdom.”

According to Adam, not even the royal capital’s information bureau knew the true situation.

“What we do know is that the leader of Apocalypse is named ‘Pale Noel’. And that he and Meta are lovers.”

“Pale Noel…”

“His age, his appearance…all of it is unknown. Actually, we don’t even know if he’s really a man. Whatever the case, she’s this person’s girlfriend. We needed to exercise extreme caution even to go see them.”

At the time, Adam, Seth, and a few other researchers had gone to Merrigod Plateau with a peacekeeping force led by Gammon following along.

“But…that was a mistake.”

Adam heaved a great sigh.

“We just ended up provoking them. As a result…a small war broke out on Merrigod Plateau. Though that wasn’t what we scientists had intended at all.”

“But that wasn’t the case with the peacekeeping force and Apocalypse…Right?”

“Indeed. Gammon is always looking for glory. It’s like he’s a big bundle of ambition. Even more so after he became the head of the peacekeeping forces. He likely figured he could use his position as bodyguard to crush Apocalypse.”

But his plan ended in failure.

“Meta is an ‘Inheritor of Gilles’. She controlled the soldiers of the peacekeeping force with her power, and they all started firing at each other. Even us researchers, who they were supposed to be guarding, got caught up in it….We had heavy losses. That’s why the institute is still completely understaffed.”

Eve had come along to the institute with Adam, but now that he mentioned it she realized that she hadn’t seen anyone else up to coming to this room.

“How…many scientists survived?”

Adam spread his arms in a grandiose gesture and replied, “Don’t be surprised. Just me and Seth! Though this facility wasn’t very heavily staffed to begin with.”

“I see…How awful.”

Eve had the home where she’d lived destroyed by Meta.

But Adam too had had his friends murdered.

“Yes…Some of them I got along with quite well, and some I frankly didn’t much care for. But none of them deserved to die like that.”

On seeing Adam’s bitter expression, Eve was reminded of her own grief.

“Hey…Just what is an ‘Inheritor of Gilles’ exactly?” she asked, trying to change the mood.

“R-right…An ‘inheritor’ is, well…To put it simply, it’s someone with ‘supernatural powers’.”

“’Supernatural powers’? Unlike magic?”

“In this country there are people who possess ‘special powers’ different from magical power. For example…the white army. We know from our reports that clan has the power of ‘Inheritors of Salem’, able to wield fire.”

“I see…So that was it.”

Eve had always thought that the white army’s usage of fire was through magic, but it appeared this wasn’t the case.

“Among the white army there are people who are magically impotent—that is, they were born without any ability to use magic at all. And yet despite that they are able to use their fire powers just the same as their fellows. …Though I’ve heard that research into the fundamental theory behind it hasn’t progressed very far at present.”

“Is that research conducted here?”

“No. Research into ‘inheritors’ is the purview of Lighwatch Temple. Sir Yegor Asayev, the head priest, is the expert on it.”

“Wow…”

“So, honestly I don’t actually know that much about ‘Inheritors’. Just that they’re divided up into categories by ability, like ‘Gilles’ and ‘Salem’, and that those are based on the names of the god kin—”

At that moment, the box set next to Eve—the magical ability measuring device, started to faintly shake.

“Hey…Is this working okay?”

Eve pointed to the box.

“Hm? …Oh, that’s fine,” Adam replied, gazing at the symbols that popped up onto the box’s screen. “Would you like some more coffee?” he asked her, turning around and noticing that Eve’s cup was empty.

It was a peculiar drink; Eve didn’t find it all that tasty, and yet she kept bringing it to her lips for some reason.

“Yes, please…But before that, one more question.”

“What is it?”

“…Why did Meta go after my father?”

“…That I don’t know.”

His eyes looked somewhat shifty.

Still, Eve couldn’t tell if Adam was playing dumb or not.

“Well then, a different question.”

“You’ve quite a lot of those. I actually have a lot of things I want to ask you, you know.”

“What does the royal capital…or rather, the military, plan to do about Apocalypse?”

“What do you me—”

“They’ve killed a lot of people, right? The people of the village of Nemu, and the people from this institute…’Sin must be punished’…Even I know the laws of this country.”

“…”

Adam took the cup from Eve and left the room without a word.

--In hardly any time at all, he had returned once more with a cup full of fresh coffee.

“Here you go. I put in more milk than last time.”

“Thanks.”

“…They are to keep careful watch over Apocalypse—That is what the military…or rather, the senate, decided.”

“--! Why!?”

“At present, Apocalypse has done no damage to the Twelve Royal Capitals. For the kingdom, the white army and the others are little more than barbarians at their border. The capital’s protection would be imperiled if they moved their security forces against them any further than they have.”

“So you’re saying that as long as the royal capital is alright, it doesn’t matter what happens to the others?”

“…I’m just a mere scientist. What I’ve told you now is just what I’ve heard from Gammon.”

Even if he was involved in a project of great importance to the country, he wasn’t in any position to say much more on the government outside of that—That’s likely what he meant.

Eve could tell that.

She could, but…

“That’s unreasonable. The ruler of a country needs to understand the suffering of its people…I think now I understand why my father hated politics,” Eve muttered, frustrated.

“…”

Adam looked upon Eve in silence for a short while, but eventually he shifted his gaze to the measuring device.

Then he took up the piece of paper and quill set on the desk and started to write something down.

--Midway through his work, Adam said, still not looking at Eve, “In that case…You should become the ruler.”

“…”

“It seems you have the qualifications for it.”

“So you mean…I can become queen? Has it come up with a result?”

“No, it’s still measuring, but…At this point I’m already seeing some impressive numbers. I think…your magical ability is much higher than that of your father.”

Even so.

No matter how gifted she was, Eve was still just a simple girl who knew nothing of governance.

Would anything change by someone like her becoming queen?

--Appearing to sense her anxiety, Adam set down the paper and quill and drew close to her.

“It’ll be fine, I know it.”

“…”

“I’m sure you can do it.”

“Can I do anything alone?”

“You’re not alone.”

“My father is dead. And the people of my village are gone. I don’t have anyone—"

“—You have me.”

Adam clasped Eve’s hands in his own.

…She couldn’t bring herself to brush aside the warmth in them.

“Do you dislike me?” Adam asked.

“…If I did, I wouldn’t be cooperating with all this…But, what about you?”

Adam had gotten close with Eve just because she might have had strong magic.

She was just a candidate for queen to him.

That was surely the reason for him being so kind to her like this—

“I wouldn’t be trying to have someone I disliked selected as queen,” Adam said plainly. “You’re an enchanting woman. I’ve thought so since the first time I met you.”

“…Didn’t you stab at me with a sword at first?”

Adam burst out laughing at Eve’s reply. “Pfff…Ah haha, that’s true. Please forgive me for that. I was desperate back then.”

“Are you good with a sword?”

“I’ve only learned enough to defend myself…Ah yes, speaking of swords.”

Adam shifted his gaze to a sword that sat in the corner of the room.

“We ended up bringing that over here.”

It was Raisa’s sword, the one that Gammon had thrown to him in the forest.

“It’s an unusual shape…Its current owner is currently in prison. Not much point in returning it.”

“Raisa is…alive?”

“Just barely. Though even if her wounds are healed, thinking on what she’s done…She’s not likely to avoid an execution.”

“…”

It wasn’t just Raisa.

The Witch of Merrigod Meta, and Pale Noel.

In this world, so much—

Evil had spread.

Even if Eve continued to fire lightning as the “Witch of the Forest”, she could never get rid of it all.

It was impossible for one person.

She would need—much more power.

And for that…

Eve chewed her lip.

--As though to mock the resolve that had begun to sprout in Eve’s heart, several days later something happened.

Raisa, the white fiend of Jakoku, escaped from prison.

There was no way that she could have accomplished this herself, being near death.

It was likely that an outside person with influence had pulled some strings.

Meanwhile, the magical potential measurement result…was suitable for queen candidacy, just as Adam had predicted.

Her M count was over 350…Eve didn’t know how much exactly, but at the very least it was more than enough to secure the agreement of both Adam and the senate.

And with that result, Eve could smoothly become queen—or so she had thought.

<<prev------directory------next>>

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missinghan · 4 years

Text

young & beautiful ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : zombie apocalypse!au; punk! au

❖ word count : 13,1k.

❖ warning : explicit language, mentions of alcohol & violence

❖ summary : you’ve always thought your soulmate was an idiot to not be there sooner but eventually, everything connects when it started with Lee Felix holding your best friend at gunpoint.

one.

Jisung puffs his cheeks out and stares at his own reflection on the glass table. The bartender quickly comes back, pushing a tequila sunrise towards his direction. The boy takes an awful amount of time to study how the yellow, almost orange liquid bleeds into a deep red effortlessly.

He shakes his bang away furiously, calling out for the bartender. “Uhm, I just ordered a Coke. Not this.”

“Have a drink kid, it’s on me.”

He pushes the glass away. “No thanks.”

“What kind of adult doesn’t drink alcohol in desperate times?”

“Then what kind of bartender doesn’t run for his life when ravenous freaks are lurking the streets?”

The bartender tips his head back and laughs wholeheartedly. “Listen, kid. It’s either beating the shit out of someone or getting wasted to keep the little amount of sanity left on your mind. So I’m staying here for them alcoholics. Business is running low, not taking any risks.” He wipes his hand onto his white apron, throwing him a playful wink. “Call me if you need anything.”

Jisung beams innocently. “Do you have a pencil? And paper too?”

“Jisung you can’t be serious, where are you?”

Minutes later, he’s starting to regret the questionable-looking sketch of a squirrel on the piece of paper that the bartender gave him. Instead, he presses the tip of the pencil harder onto the surface until it snaps in half, leaving the sharp wooden edges sticking out. He can kill the bartender with this if he decides to spike his drink, Jisung figures. He hesitantly brings the rim of the glass to his lips and takes the smallest sip possible. The burning sensation goes down his throat in matters of seconds. His entire windpipe feels like it’s on fire.

“Hey, I need some water..” He chokes out as someone enters the bar.

The bartender averts his gaze onto the new customer. “Cool, what about you?”

The unfamiliar figure sits beside him, murmuring. “I’m not here for the drinks, but him.”

The bartender looks confused. “A water it is then?”

Jisung’s head starts spinning slightly, dizziness bubbling up inside his chest. He hiccups with the pencil held between his fingers. Something’s wrong with this man. He needs to get out of here, now. “Sorry, I don’t feel too well. I think I’ll get back to—“ Just when he slips himself off the stool, two other men appear out of nowhere and block his way as the first one firmly holds him in place by his shoulders. Jisung immediately turns to the bartender, signaling him to run with his eyes. And the bartender does as he insists.

One of the thugs growls gruffly, making Jisung drop the black duffle bag in his hand. “You’re gonna have to pay for what you did, boy.”

“Hi, I’m Jisung. Sup guys?”

“Did you just say ‘Hi, I’m Jisung’?”

Jisung grimaces as you hiss into the earpiece, the sound screeching against his eardrums. In which, it doesn't really help to cool the situation down. He drops onto his knees when a guy kicks him in the shin, face scrunching up in pain. One of the guys surrounded him hides behind a face mask, whipping out a dagger concealed in his sleeve. With a cheerful voice, “There’s nothing to be all grabby and stabby about.” Jisung gulps. He’d be lying if he said that he’s not about to piss his pants.

“Uhm, do you like the color red?”

The one who’s holding him down snaps, pulling his collar backward. “Shut it, twig.” He elbows him at the back of his head, earning a low, painful grunt.

Jisung asks, as light as a feather, he’s trying too hard to form a proper sentence at this point. “What about coding? Do you like coding? You guys look pretty smart, you must be into coding.”

“Jisung, the hell-- CODE RED, JEONGIN, CODE RED! JISUNG’S IN TROUBLE!”

He sighs in relief when you finally understand, limbs growing wobbly.

“Han, get the hell out of there! I swear--”

Your words get cut off when a goon peels the earpiece away harshly, examining the device with an amused smirk. “Look at this toy, it might be pretty expensive.” Then, he looks at his gang member and cocks a brow. “Why don’t we just take him with us? He’ll lead us right back to their hiding spot.” His team quickly nod their heads in agreement, staring down at the blond-haired boy with mischievous eyes.

With his head dangled low, Jisung’s limbs are giving in but the grip on the pencil never once loosens. “Okay..” He slowly looks up and shoots them a look, chuckling darkly. “This is gonna be fun.” In a split second, the sharp end of the pencil goes straight into the goon’s stomach, making him stagger backward and groan aloud in agony. Although Jisung’s frame is quite small compared to what a standard fighter needs to be, he never fails to take advantage of that. If he’s smaller, he’s gonna be faster than them.

He sweeps a leg across the ground, one of the men falls onto his head, easily slipping into a good sleep until the zombies come in and take care of his unconscious body. Jisung catches the earpiece when it falls out of the goon’s hand. “Thanks, I’m gonna need my toy back.” Before he can slip the device on again, an arm sweeps under his feet and he lands right onto his bottom. “Using fire against fire. Smartass.” He mutters and clumsily props himself up from facepalming himself onto a pool of fresh blood that’s slowly seeping through the tiled floor.

The only conscious goon smirks down at him. “I don’t like coding. But I do like the color red.” When Jisung flutters his eyes upwards, he’s met with a shiny metal blade, inevitable to drive down, straight into his chest, right through his heart. He automatically squeezes his eyes shut as an attempt to brace himself for the contact.

“Hey asshole,” His eyes shoot open at the more than familiar voice.

two.

You’re so screwed. You’re all fucking screwed.

You’re not screwed because you completely forgot that you have four finals in a row next week. You’re not screwed because you broke your mom’s favorite mug or accidentally had a scratch on your dad’s car. Heck, you wish they could beat you with a wooden spoon right now. If only they’re still alive. You’d have your parents put you in timeout and fail four subjects all at once just so that everything can be normal again.

In movies, particularly ‘Zombieland’ or ‘The Walking Dead’, humans are being controlled by a virus that turns you into a walking corpse that feeds off humans’ flesh. But, we naturally do have plenty of brain disorders that can do just that. However, none of those things were contagious in the first place. Until Mad Cow Disease came along. Who would have thought? Cows are simply being part of the food chain then an entire square block, forty bedrooms, and nineteen bathrooms; everyone in your neighborhood went apeshit after the steak they had for dinner.

It’s a miracle how you even managed to run away without being bit by your own parents, who are now brainless serial killers. The idea of eating someone’s organs doesn’t seem too far-fetched anymore when you know that you’re only one brain chemical away from turning to a psychotic cannibal. That’s not even the irony of the whole situation. Irony, is how ready your current generation is for the end of the world, but not exams.

Hence, you’re gonna throw a birthday party for one of your best friends like nothing’s ever happened. Except for the fact that you’ll have to lure him out of the sanctuary while the others are working on the surprise.

Now you’re sitting in an abandoned bar, attempting to cheer your friend up with a shot of whiskey. You’ve never really liked the idea of being inside a bar before. Drowning yourself in alcohol and letting the night snatch your consciousness away as you sway your body along with bad EDM, going deaf with laughter and music banging against your eardrums? Not ideal. But now, it’s all empty. The neon lights are hanging by a single cable, wallpapers chipping off with discolorations soaking through the wall. The once infamous bar where students used to get wasted every weekend is now dead. Both literally and metaphorically. You’re not complaining anyway.

“Hey Jeongin,” you speak up lowly. “Have you ever hit a girl before?” You run your tongue over the cut right on your bottom lip, tasting the coppery blood in boredom.

Jeongin stares blankly at the glass of whiskey that you just offered him, studying the yellowish component closely. “No? Why would I?” He looks up and almost freezes to death with the look that you’re throwing his way. He can’t tell whether you’re mad or not because you’re that type of person who doesn’t necessarily need to go all furious or mad to scare the shit out of someone.

“No? Oh, don’t mind me,” you shake your head, low chuckles vibrating through your chest capacity. “I was just gonna ask you how it feels. You know, to kick someone in the gut or punch them in the face when you know they’re clearly not your size.” You sigh and prop your head onto your hand, eyes slightly heavy from the alcohol kick. It’s been a while since you’ve messed with these things. “Right, sorry. Not my point. My point is: stop being a big baby and get out there, talk it out with Jisung you little shit!”

The boy in front of you quickly looks away when you stare him dead in the eye. He swallows heavily, picking at the ripped part of his jeans. “I’m not gonna talk it out with him. That was stupid, irresponsible and reckless. He could have just let it be and not have his jaw broken. He was supposed to sneak in, get out, and act like nothing’s ever happened. Instead, he got caught at a bar, waved at them and even said ‘Hi, I’m Jisung’. He didn’t even get anything but got you in danger! Look at you! Minho would kill us if he saw you with a thousand arrow wounds like this!” He throws his hands upwards and cries out. “I swear to God, I’d never sign up to save his ass, ever, again. I swear—“

You clear your throat, wordlessly dropping a black duffel bag onto the counter with a loud thud. Jeongin’s mouth forms an ‘o’ as his hands automatically unzip the bag, revealing an awful amount of weapons: shotguns, rifles, knives, crowbars, etc. Heck, even some food. God, Jeongin can’t even remember the last time he’s had a proper meal. He subconsciously runs his hand along the matte-finished surface of a firearm, a retort lingering on the tip of his tongue. “Wow,” he utters. “He really— he got them.”

“He did.” You cock a brow, leaning forward and zip the bag up again. “And tell you what, even if you’re not gonna be there when Jisung makes a bad decision again, I will. Because you know damn well that there’s nothing in this world that he wouldn’t hesitate to do as long as your little junkie ass is safe.”

“HEY, WE CAN TALK THIS OUT, CHILL—“

“I said hands up! DROP THE GUN!”

“Chan, DON’T DO IT!”

You and Jeongin quickly collect yourselves, scrambling out of the bar. When the door swings wide open, you’re met with Jisung on his knees, hands behind his head, his Benelli M4 abandoned by a water bottle near the entrance. Meanwhile, there are two other guys who seem like they’re talking amongst themselves as they hold your best friend at gunpoint. Your fingers hover over the pistol in your back pocket, mentally debating if you should engage or not.

The more you’re lost into your own thoughts, the more you find yourself staring at the pink-haired boys standing beside the brunette one, who’s having a handgun, pointing right at Jisung. The freckled boy has you drawn into him like instant gravity because suddenly, it feels like the world stops spinning when he looks up and accidentally meets your eyes. That’s when you take a closer look at his features. Perfect dark eyebrows, bright beady eyes, and prominent Cupid’s bow. His freckles are what throw you off, making it possible to look away because they’re like embers of disintegrated supernovas, scattered across the universe for eternities.

“Everyone calm down!” You snap out of it and break eye contact. As much as you’d love to stare at the freckled cutie all day, you’re gonna cut him in his sleep if he dares to put a finger on Jisung. “Lay off my friend. Now.” You declare and receive attention from the brunette as he tells you off with his eyes.

The guy who you assume is called, Chan jerks his head towards Jisung. “Tell your friend that it’d be nice if he could give it back.”

“Give what back?” You turn to Jisung. “Han, we’ve talked about this. We don’t steal from anyone, besides street gangs.” You tell him firmly, motioning for him to hand over whatever the fuck of a thing that those two strangers need because him getting killed for something as childish as a slice of cheesecake is gonna drive you nuts.

Jisung opens up his left palm and shows you a silver wedding band, smiling awkwardly as you hold yourself back from decking him in the face. “Look, I was just looking around and I found this thing, and I got curious then they just came back and deadass threatened me with their guns!” He adds in. “I don’t know what’s the big deal with this ring anyway. Looks like someone bought it on eBay.”

“Say that again, I dare you.” Chan tightens his grip on the gun and clicks in a bullet. As soon as you hear the bullet being locked in to the chamber, your hand automatically flies to your back pocket and pulls out your pistol. You directly aim at his head, finger trembling over the trigger when you switch off the safety catch. “Give-it-back,” Chan says through gritted teeth.

“Jisung..” You warn him.

Jisung protests. “Like hell I would.”

“I never miss, just throwing that out there,” Chan says indifferently

“I SAID PUT THE GUN DOWN.”

“ENOUGH!” Jeongin snaps, catching all of you off guard. “We are surrounded by mindless cannibals over here! We all went through it, we all were there when our family turned into those monsters, we all had those times where we had no place to go, no food to eat, no friends to be there for us. Don’t we have enough problems? For fuck’s sake look at us! Is pointing guns and yelling at each other gonna bring the good days back? So would you guys just stop it? We’re a bunch idiots trying to kill each other when the end is fucking near! Can’t we just be friends and play some dumbass games like ‘20 Questions’ like decent human beings while we’re driving them back to the safehouse ?”

You stare at him in awe for a moment there, your muscles relaxing and giving up on the gun. Jeongin gives Chan a Look, chest heaving up and down in pure furiosity. Sometimes the idea of surviving does mess with your mind, forgetting that people are still people. They’re just like you. They’ve gone through some pretty bad shits too.

Chan retrieves his weapon, sighing. “Sorry, we really mean no harm. It’s just that we need it back.” He scratches his neck sheepishly as two dimples are fully on display. He’s not so scary when he smiles after all.

“I’m gonna have to confiscate that for the time being.” You snatch the piece of jewelry from Jisung’s hand. “We’ll talk about this when you guys are back at our base.”

“But—“

“Chan, let her. It’s fine.” The freckled boy interrupts him.

You look at him and subconsciously smile. “Oh? I’m sorry, does this belong to you? Aren’t you scared that I’m gonna throw this pretty little thing away later?”

He replies with mild interest. “I don’t think you’d wanna do that, you could have just kept it to yourself.”

“No, Charming. It’s not my style.” You voice as you stare down at the ring, studying every little detail carefully. The silver band is exquisite with a sterling double knot, adding a unique touch to the elegant simplicity of the ring. You think you’re already falling in love, but are you really gonna tell him that? Most definitely not. “Yep, not my style. And I’ll throw it away someday, that’s for threatening my friend.”

He makes a face and takes a few steps towards you. “I have a name.”

“Don’t care. ‘Charming’ suits you pretty well.”

“It’s Felix. You’re welcome.” He grins, offering you a hand. You decide to take it, kind of taken aback when knowing that his hand is a lot smaller compared to the average guys’. “And I wouldn’t worry about that, you won’t be going home with it anyway. ‘Cause I’ll always find you, always.” He squeezes your hand a little bit too tight for your liking, making you flinch.

Little did you know, behind his back, Felix’s counting down from one two three with his fingers, Chan watching him closely with his gun ready.

Three.

Two.

One.

Jisung quickly notices and reaches out to you. “Y/N!” And one single shotgun rings through the area.

three.

On the outskirts of the once stellar city, lies a warehouse in a not so stellar neighborhood. Dead leaves are falling onto the ground, scraping against the concrete surface, and sending chills down people’s spine. It’s like they’re not even trying to grow properly even when it’s not halfway through spring yet. The eerie atmosphere is just another reason for people to not wander around for too long, as if they’d have the gut to come there in the first place. But it’s still a zombie apocalypse, there are worse things that could happen either way.

You’d be surprised at what people can do when they’re dangling off the fingertips of Death.

People would never guess what’s hidden behind the crooked door. A living room fully equipped with an outdated couch and broken TV, a kitchen with everything but a fridge. Further into the safe house is a bedroom big enough for ten people to fit in, a storage room full of firearms and weapons. Last but not least, security cameras and monitors are set up all around the base, to be more secure. No zombies in this household. It took you and the guys forever to collect enough materials. The only thing that you’re constantly running low on is food.

And turns out Jisung calling your name wasn't the last thing you’d heard.

“Ugh, Minho, get me water,” You groan loudly before wagging your hand around like a madwoman. Once you feel the cool metal surface on the nightstand, you quickly check your own reflection. Needless to say, you’re horrified at what you saw. Absolutely terrifying, yes. Hair falling onto your face, tiny scratches scattered across your cheekbones as they leave an itchy sensation of your skin. Fortunately, the cut on your lips is already cleaned, and your bruises are starting to fade. But what sucks is the constant banging effect on your temple, an imminent pain that’s threatening to swallow you whole.

Yeah, this is why you never drink.

“Minho, water..” Your whimper grows smaller and smaller towards the end as your hand gives up on holding onto your phone. “Is this what whiskey does to the human body?” You smack your lips together as the bitter taste seeps through your taste buds more deeply, choking on the alcohol smell in your own throat.

Minho takes long strides into the bedroom with a bowl of piping hot soup. “Whiskey contains almost no sugar, can reduce blood clots, decreases your chances of getting a heart attack, even a stroke, fights cancerous cells and..” He pauses before wiggling his eyebrows. “Helps you perform better in bed.” He chuckles when you bury your face under your blanket, cheeks tinted pink. He will never not get you with his less than appropriate comments.

“You’re gross.”

Minho smirks. “Low blow.” He cranes his neck tiredly, lips curling upwards into a small smile. “You’re quite lucky. Whoever was trying to kill you missed.”

Your brows automatically knit together as you try to gather the small pieces of memories your brain can muster. Everything that happened yesterday seems too cloudy for you to comprehend, but you could never forget the moment Chan’s bullet missed you by a strand of hair, piercing straight into the plexiglass window right behind you to catch you off guard. Next thing you know, Felix kicked the back of your knees, having you land on buckling ankles.

You tell Minho sternly. “If he wanted me dead, I wouldn’t have come back in one piece.” You hold in a breath, in disbelief of your own words. “He spared my life, believe it or not.” Chan let you go, but why would he? You did piss him and his friend off intentionally because you never know what you’re getting yourself into.

Minho figures you might have hit your head somewhere, so he places your food on the nightstand and scoffs. “Eat up, you’re talking a shit ton for someone who almost died.”

“Where’s Han?” You gladly receive the bowl of soup with two hands, mouth watering slightly since you haven’t eaten since yesterday.

As if on cue, you can hear Jisung shrieking from downstairs. “NO NO NO! DON’T SHOOT ME WITH MY OWN GUN!”

You and Minho exchange a look before rushing outside, dashing towards the living room. “Oh, you gotta be shitting me.” The commotion inside has your jaw dropped to the floor. Again, Jisung is held at gunpoint for the fourth time of the week, you’re quite surprised that his head hasn’t been blown into bits yet. With the gun pressed against his temple, beside him is the freckled boy from yesterday. Felix, if you’re not mistaken. Chan’s here too, neither of them is looking too happy. If Hyunjin was here seeing two strangers try to threaten his best friend, he’d definitely go apeshit.

“Woah woah, what’s the problem here?” Your brother, Woojin comes out from the kitchen with wide eyes and two glasses of water in his hands. “Lix, put the gun down.” He tells the younger boy firmly, but Felix doesn’t even move an inch.

He cocks his head towards Jisung, a scowl adorning his soft features. “It wouldn’t have to be like this if your friend here didn’t steal my ring. Twice.”

“Jisung, seriously?” You facepalm yourself. You can still vividly remember how Felix snatched the piece of jewelry away from your palm when your face smacked the ground. And now Jisung decided to take it back? Without your consent? You’re not taking a bullet for him, not this time.

Jisung puts his hands up in defeat. “Okay okay, I have a confession.” He inhales. “I sold it.” Just when you thought things can’t possibly get any worse.

“What?!” You and Felix exclaim simultaneously.

Felix tongues the inside of his cheek in annoyance. “Come here, tell you what..”

The moment Jisung takes a step towards him, Felix takes his hand in a little bit too abruptly. He twists it at a weird angle, making Jisung wince. “That, is for selling the ring.” He presses your friend harshly against the coffee table, the handle of the gun secured on the nape of his neck, and you grimace at the sight. But also, you’re low-key enjoying this. “And that, is for being a little shit. You’re coming with me tomorrow, no negotiation.”

Felix soon lets go when your brother glares at him, smiling softly, warm brown eyes twinkling like a starry night. Jisung backs away almost immediately in caution when he offers to pull him upright and cowers behind Minho. You can tell that he’s terrified of the seemingly harmless freckled boy now. This is what he gets for never learning, he’s made a grave mistake to touch someone’s property in the middle of an apocalypse, where everyone’s more than ready to tear each other apart when they’re pissed about off about something as little as being hangry. “Huh, you’re not very into handshakes then. Don’t you want your gun back too?” He puts his hands into the pockets of his jeans, turning to meet Woojin’s eyes.

“Alright, we’ll have to talk about this later.” Your brother merely sneers at Jisung. “I’ll reintroduce you guys. Y/N, my sister.” He motions towards you before averting his attention to the other two. “That’s Minho, find him if you’re injured or need someone to knock some solid logic into your head.” Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair. “And the moron who, uh, robbed you is Jisung. He’s a really good guy, I swear. His hands are apparently faster than his brain.”

Chan speaks up dryly. “So he’s a doctor, and a part-time therapist.” Minho nods satisfactorily. “And he’s an idiot.” Jisung just smiles awkwardly because he’s not planning on getting his ass kicked again. At least not for the time being.

You interject, still drowning in confusion. “Wait, you know him?”

“Yeah, he’s the son of our parents’ former business partners. You guys used to hang out as toddlers.” Woojin says.

You widen your eyes. “What?” You can’t believe it. Felix is ridiculously attractive (you’d hate to admit that in front of him) so hanging out with a boy this cute, even not for long would still definitely leave you with some kind of impression. There’s no way this charming guy had witnessed those times where you’re still taking medicine by swallowing them down with chocolate pudding. You’d rather bury yourself alive at this point.

“The Lees made that?” You gasp.

Woojin nods reluctantly. “They sure did.”

Felix takes a few steps forward and looks down at you, decreasing the distance between your faces. His minty breath fans your face and leaves you flustered within seconds. “Long time no see, Princess. Told you I will always find you.” He throws you a wolfish wink, proceeding to walk past you to go upstairs with Chan following him after.

“Hey! I still want my gun back!” Jisung yells after him.

The pet name that rolled off his tongue effortlessly sends your heartbeat over the edge. It’s beating vigorously inside your rib cage, louder than when your parents were about to eat you alive, louder than when you were kicked to the curb by some random mobs, so loud that you’re afraid everyone’s gonna hear it. It’s only your second encounter and he’s already messing with your heart just by simply existing as he is.

Jesus fucking Christ. Now, you’re really screwed.

Because falling for someone during an apocalypse is just another fucked up version of every rom-com to ever exist. Or maybe a knocked-off version of Warm Bodies, except Felix isn’t a zombie.

Yet.

four.

You wake up today feeling quite at peace for once in a while since the zombies outbreak only to find out that Jisung is heading outside to search for medicine with Minho. Meaning, drum rolls, you’re having the honor to go with Prince Charming aka Lee Felix and retrieve his stupid ring. You’re far too mad at Woojin to even finish the can of tuna that he kindly offered. Instead, you decide to bolt outside as soon as possible before you accidentally murder your brother.

“Get in Princess, we don’t have all day!” Felix calls out loudly as he repeatedly honks his car. Admittedly, you’re quite impressed that he managed to find a whole ass Jeep in the middle of this ghost town.

You enter the car, almost gasping at how good of a condition that this car is still in. Whoever owned this vehicle previously, God bless them because they definitely did a great job at keeping it nice and clean. There are no questionable items lying on the floor or inside one of the cabinets, the AC is still working, the radio isn’t showing those creepy statics sounds that never fail to chill you to the bones.

Felix perks a brow in amusement. “It’s mine, by the way, I did a great job at keeping it clean huh?” When you give him nothing but a scowl, he chuckles lightheartedly and starts the engine. “Buckle up, I don’t want you to suddenly fly out of the window or anything.”

“Oh, you’re pretty shit at driving then.” You comment flatly, making an effort to avoid his eyes. They keep drawing you in even at the slightest chance. You’re not falling into that downward spiral again, nope, never. But you can’t help but notice how he still looks good in a bomber jacket with a simple tee underneath, tucked neatly inside his ripped jeans.

Upon your cold response, Felix’s smile remains still on his lips. “Said someone who can’t even drive.” He snickers somewhat sarcastically. Wow, do you miss bickering with Minho about his three spoiled cats.

“Sure, hand over the keys unless you want us both to play tennis with Hitler in the afterlife.” You protest with as much sarcasm. God, it’s been two minutes into the ride and the amount of willpower you’re mustering right now to not grab him by the collar and yank his ass out of this car is actually terrifying. But doing that can potentially threaten your own life so indeed, you’re starting to wonder if that’s gonna be the wisest decision. “What’s the big deal with that ring anyway? Can’t you just break into some jewelry store and find another one that you like?”

Felix looks into the distance, his smile faltering. “My mom wanted me to give it to the girl that I’m willing to spend the rest of my life with. Even when things are fucked up, like right about… now..” He tells you sternly with a hint of sadness in his tone, his warm brown eyes are now cloudy. It’s hard to break through the wall that he’s trying to build, but you don’t think you both are close enough to talk about these things anyway.

If anything, you should try to lighten up the mood. “Good luck with that. Because the only thing you’re gonna be willing to live with now is a gun and those packets of Tim Tam Slam.”

He turns sideways to make eye contact with you for a split second before averting his gaze back on the road. So you actually pay attention to the little details. “Call it.” Felix smiles again, and somehow, you feel like a weight is being lifted off your chest. “And mind you, I have a fiancé. Well, more like ‘had’ but whatever, doesn’t matter, same thing.”

You nearly choke on your own saliva, eyes as wide as a goldfish’s. “You have a what?!”

“Relax, haven’t you heard of an arranged marriage before?” He looks at you as if you’re some kind of alien species from outer space. “I was gonna give the ring to her but bummer, your friend just had to sell it.”

Arms crossed over your chest, you hold back a chuckle with a hand secured on your mouth. “Wow..” You manage to choke out between giggles. “You must be getting something impressive to be able to agree to marry a goody-two-shoes who owns more money than what she knows to do with.”

“Pardon?” Felix snorts involuntarily. “What does that suppose to mean? Are you insulting my marriage?”

‘Insulting’ is an understatement for an entire lecture that you’ve already planned out in your head that you’re about to give him a piece of but you don’t think he’s ready for that just yet. Instead, you counter softly. “Not quite, but for the most parts, yeah, I guess I am.” He tightens his grip on the steering wheel and proceeds to throw daggers towards your direction with his eyes every three seconds. “But let me ask you this. If you wanna give that ring to your fiancé so badly, then do you really love her? Or is everything just a contract so that you won’t put your parents’ company at risk?”

A comfortable silence falls upon the both of you as Felix starts replaying your words over and over again in his mind. He’s never the type to go out and about, looking for love like it’s the only purpose of his life. He’s never dated anyone before. He used to believe that love always comes at the most unexpected moment for the longest time and he should be waiting, not searching. He didn’t think much about the arranged marriage either. She was a nice girl, but they’ve only talked twice, and nothing really clicked like how he imagined love would feel like. Felix knew, he knew deep down that it wouldn’t work out after all but he was just too much of a coward to admit it. But your words hit differently, imprinting him with a little something called ‘reality’.

Everything’s kinda screwed right now, no one knows how much longer humanity can keep up with this whole survival situation. Living on the streets, and can never get a good night's sleep. Although it does sting a bit knowing that he might die alone on this planet, it definitely gives him another point of view to look at the relationship between him and his fiancé. He doesn’t even want to imagine living in the same house with her at this point.

“Your mom wanted you to give it to someone special right?” You tell him softly, a hand brushing over his as an attempt to soothe the ache in his chest. “Then you gotta find them. It’s not over yet. But that doesn’t mean there’s much time left. You don’t have to keep running towards something that isn’t worth it in the first place anymore.” You pause for a moment, lips curling upwards. “Because if we cease to believe in love, why would we want to live?”

Felix bursts into laughter and brushes your hand off of him. “Ew! You stole that from a movie and it’s not even good. Jesus Y/N, get some counseling.”

“Don’t shit on my pop culture references like that you uncultured swine.”

“Just don’t do that again.”

You roll your eyes at him. “One more word and I’ll burn you down with this Jeep.” And he just smirks at you because he knows for sure that you won’t have the heart to destroy such a good car when the world is literally falling apart. Because chances are, you hate your dad’s old grey Innovator that only pumps lukewarm air inside the vehicle. In which, isn’t the most ideal thing for an apocalypse. But Woojin loves that thing far too much to throw it away so you’ve never had the heart to tell him to.

Felix calmly parks on a random sidewalk before taking the key and exits the car. “We’re here.” You follow him not long after, eyes squinted due to the brightness of the daylight. Even though you’re barely seeing anything, you can’t seem to recognize this neighborhood. And it doesn’t look very sketchy either, pretty mediocre to say the least. You can’t seem to remember if Woojin has taken you here or not. And you’re starting to wonder how many zombies are hiding behind those buildings, seeing your scent as a solution for their never-ending thirst. Who the hell did Jisung sell that ring to?

Felix narrows his eyes and spots something in the distance. “Y/N, are you seeing this?” You quickly stand beside him, and slowly, a slouched figure comes into view. “I’ll take care of that.” He places a hand on your shoulder when the figure picks up its pace, the muscles on your back tense up at his touch. “Trust me, I’m not gonna accidentally blow your head into bits.”

“Down!”

You quickly duck and slide yourself across the concrete surface in time before Felix can swing the baseball bat straight into your face. The bat comes in contact with the zombie harshly enough to knock it backward, onto her bottom. You and Felix look at each other for a solid three seconds before approaching the zombie again, examining her more closely. Her once blond hair is now doused in nothing but blood, sticking to her face and neck. Both of her lips are completely distorted as if another zombie gave her the kiss of Death (quite literally) as a welcome ritual. Suddenly, she jolts up from her lying position, hands wagging in midair to grab onto something.

You jump backward on instinct as Felix brings the baseball bat down again, and again, and again until you can’t even make out the horrendous features of the zombie anymore. He scrunches his nose at the smell of the poisoned blood and tosses the metal bat away. “Never hurts to double-tap, better not get blood on my white Jeep.”

You blurt subconsciously. “Impressive, Charming.” Okay but in your defense, Felix just smacked the hell out of the zombie with a baseball bat, he basically saved your life. Although you’re fully capable of protecting yourself, that was pretty hot.

He’s too busy fixing the sleeves of his shirt but his eyes immediately light up at your words. “Say that again?”

“In your freaking dreams, Lee.”

Felix pulls you in and ruffles your hair, rocking you side to side happily. “Don’t be so uptight! Complimenting me once in a while wouldn’t kill anyone now, would it?” When he’s too immersed in annoying the shit out of you, something falls out of his pocket with a small ‘clang’.

“Wait, you dropped something—“ You manage to wiggle out of his embrace and bend down to pick it up, and your mind just stops. “Felix…isn’t that your ring?”

five.

“Jesus Christ!” Woojin almost yells when he sees a black-eyed Felix exiting the kitchen with an ice pack on his right hand, lips swollen with several cuts across his face. “What happened to you?”

You walk into the living room not long after, tiny scratches are scattered all over your pale knuckles, blood trickling down on your cheeks like you’ve been crying red. “Okay,” Woojin shakes his head, pushing himself up from the beige-colored couch. “What the fuck happened to the both of you?”

“I punched him in the face.” “She punched me in the face.” The both of you confess in sync, exchanging questionable looks before turning away from each other.

“And why is there blood on your face again?” Woojin swears, if Felix dares to touch you, he will put his head on a chopping block, not to mention hurting you.

You shrug back, grabbing a water bottle from the coffee table and chug on it generously. “It’s not mine.” Without turning your head, you hand the bottle over to Felix. The boy gladly receives it, downing the whole thing left in one go. “Anyway, some mobsters appeared out of nowhere and they wanted his stupid ring. I got my ass kicked for a goddamn piece of jewelry, twice.” You merely glare at Felix who’s applying pressure to the cool pack of ice against his bruised eye, wincing every once in a while. He does feel kinda guilty, believe it or not. Maybe lying wasn’t the best option to get you to hang out with him more. There’s no way you two could have died back there, but he would be more than ready to throw the ring away for the sake of your safety.

But either way, Jisung’s gonna be dead meat to you after this.

“You do realize that we just kissed indirectly right?” Felix laughs when you chuck the now empty water bottle at him, hissing in anger. He’s acting like such a Lee, irritating, and carefree most of the time. In which, makes you wanna kill him with your bare hands even more in these kinds of situations. “Come here, a princess shouldn’t have blood on her pretty face.” He manages to turn you around and face him as he pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket. When he leans down slightly to wipe the crimson stickiness away, your once tense muscles now relax, loosening themselves.

Within this proximity, you’re able to take a closer look at his starry eyes with long lashes framing them perfectly, his cute button nose, his peachy lips and how his freckles are more beautiful than anything you’ve seen before. One of his hands holds your neck in place while the other is secured on your waist so it’s easier for him to get a better angle. Felix furrows his brows every now and then, being careful and gentle at the same time to get rid of the blood off your face completely. He did pull you into doing the dirty business after all. Might as well make up for it.

You didn’t push him away because this feels...safe, and right. He makes you feel at ease after the longest time, it’s like nothing you’ve experienced before. Not even your brother can possess this sense of comfort in his presence. It almost makes you smile which is seemingly paradoxical because forty minutes ago, you were figuring out ways to hide a corpse since you couldn’t stand his nosy ass for much longer.

“Ew, I’m getting out of here. I can’t bear seeing this.” Woojin makes a gagging noise before stumbling out of the living room with his cup of espresso, leaving you and Felix alone in the living room. A muffled silence occurs for the next thirty seconds.

“There,” He clears his throat before pulling away. “Done.”

You look away. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that though.”

“Anything for my princess.”

You ignore his cheeky smile before rummaging through the wooden drawers. “Sit down.” You demand once you pull out a mini first aid kit, Minho always keeps those randomly around the house just in case. One can never be too careful after all. Felix does as you say, taking a seat on the couch. He watches you taking out a cotton swab with a bottle of sanitizing solution. “Lean in.” You command while dipping the cotton swab into the solution, his hand brushing over your thigh accidentally.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You shake your head as an attempt to hide the coral tint on your cheeks. “This is gonna hurt though…” You warn him, cotton swab hovering over one of the cuts on his cheeks. Felix nods obediently, clenching his fists and squeezes his eyes shut to brace himself for the burn. He can’t gush over how cute you look anymore since he’s secretly terrified of cleaning wounds. But who isn’t?

You smirk internally. “Okay, I’m gonna count down from three to one.”

“Three..” A single drop of cold sweat rolls down on his temple.

“Two..” He holds his breath. But before he can react properly, you’re already pressing the cotton swab onto his wound, your other hand pinning his down firmly. “Felix quit moving already! How old are you for fuck’s sake?!” You laugh wholeheartedly, struggling to hold him in place while cleaning his opened cuts with the solution.

Felix shrieks like a little child. “Ah! Ow! Y/N! Ah! Y/N! Y/N, I SWEAR TO GOD!” He succeeds in pulling away after a good three minutes, the burn from the alcohol feels like there’s fire coursing through his veins, burning a hole right through his skin. He’s not doing that ever again. “That hurt like a motherfucker.” Whimpering, his brows are knitted together in agony when you put a bandage over the wound. “You didn’t even finish counting, I hate you.”

“There there you big baby.” Smiling at him, your hand gently caresses his calloused ones. It doesn’t take him long to realize how soft your hands are, and how cold they are compared to him too. So he decides to link your fingers together, hoping to give you some of his warmth. You completely freeze at his action and choose to look anywhere but his eyes, from the broken TV to the random magazines on the coffee table and his shiny pistol next to them.

Felix brushes his thumb over the back of your hand and chuckles. “See, you do know how to smile. It’s not that hard to smile in front of me after all, is it?” He brings your knuckles to his lips and peppers small kisses over them lovingly. It makes his heart crack a little upon seeing them all scratched up, because of him. Little actions like this always make you feel fuzzy on the inside, especially when it comes from someone like Felix? You’re done for.

“I didn’t see this. I’ve never seen this. I’m not seeing this. I will never see this again.” He pulls away shyly when Jisung starts teasing you both as he passes by the living room from upstairs. Oh right, weren’t you planning on decking his face for setting you on a ‘date’ with a guy you hardly know only after three solid days when he kicked your ass?

“HAN JISUNG GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!”

six.

Falling for Lee Felix is scarier than getting infected with the Mad Cow Disease (or Mad Zombie Disease). It’s official. But knowing the basic bitch that you are, being loopy in love with him is quite inevitable. There’s no use fighting against fate anyway, still, you’re going to postpone it for as long as you can because you definitely don’t wanna get too attached during an apocalypse.

Sadly, having Felix share a room with Chan right beside yours doesn’t exactly help you avoid him. He always roams the house half-naked at night like he’s trying to put his chiseled abs up for auction after every shower. One time he almost gave you a cardiac arrest when you found him rummaging through the fridge at two in the morning without a shirt on. There were some nights where you didn’t even get a wink of sleep because Chan and he were too busy jamming to music even though they know that the walls in this house are clearly paper-thin. However, you chose to let them slide for the sake of Jisung’s and Minho’s so-called ‘beauty sleep’ aka their spontaneous cuddle sessions throughout the day. That’s only an excuse to avoid him even more.

Felix obviously knows what’s up, so he’s been acting extra annoying these days to get your attention. He keeps popping his head inside your room (which was initially a storage room but you insisted on having it since you didn’t want to share your questionable sleeping habits with any of the guys) and asks for random stuff that never seems to make sense. Like who needs a fucking stapler when the whole world is falling into a crisis? You still kept yourself together and didn’t throw hands at him because you’re not planning on giving him what he wanted.

But what Felix wants? Felix gets.

“Good morning Princess..” He half-whispers and half-singsongs after shutting the door of your room with his foot. “Thank fucking God.” He mentally bows to whatever gods up there that’s pushing their blood family feud aside to bless him for the day. You’re still fast asleep, snoring softly with your grey blanket wrapped around your body.

He’s impressed by how you still manage to not wake up early every other day because there’s no curtain unlike his room so the sunlight can easily peer right through, casting a delicate light on your figure. Surprisingly, you don’t sleep like Chan, with his leg dangling off the edge of the bed and his blanket’s on the floor by the time the sun rises again. You sleep with four limbs curled inwards, hands grabbing two full fists of the grey fabric like a puppy.

He also notices how you’re still keeping pictures of your childhood memories on one of the empty bookshelves. There’s one with you and Woojin standing in the middle of Time Square when you both came to the States. And there’s another one where you’re dressed up as Harley Quinn with Hyunjin as the Joker on your right, Jisung as Rick Flag to your left and your brother as Deadshot squatting on the ground for your senior year’s Halloween party. Although you’re more of a Marvel gal yourself.

“Y/N...” Felix whispers softly as he sits down on your bed, careful not to wake you up. His original plan to have you chase him up and down the house is already going down the drain since he really doesn’t want to ruin a good night's sleep. Chan has done that to him one too many times and he sure knows the consequences. Heck, Chan might not even see him after this.

Felix outstretches his hand carefully, caressing your cheekbone like you’re made of glass. He can’t help but act like a creep because you’re too cute for your own good when you’re sleeping. It’s kinda nice actually, to not have you yelling at him for not putting clothes on right after his shower or wrestling him to the floor whenever he headlocks you at the most random times.

Suddenly, your eyes shoot open. The moment you see another human being’s presence in your own personal bubble, you automatically grab him by the neck before pinning him down onto the bed, locking his arms behind his back. “Ow! Ow! Dude, chill!” Felix cries out from underneath you, struggling to breathe properly when you’re practically crushing his lungs. Okay, he definitely did not see that coming.

“My goodness, what are you doing here?!” You gasp in realization, pushing yourself off the bed.

“Woojin- said-“ he chokes out between uneven breaths. “I could- come in- and wake you up.”

You cross your arms and sigh. “Yeah, come in.” You say with expressive hands. “Not touching me without my consent.”

He winces at the red marks across his wrists. “Since when can you fight someone like that?” Yeah, those aren’t going away anytime soon.

“What part of ‘Zombie Apocalypse Self-Learn Defense Basics 101’ don’t you understand?” You yawn tiredly before running a hand through your bed head. “Anyway, what do you want?”

Felix beams innocently, taking in the sight of your pajamas. “Your attention.” And you internally thank your brother for not doing laundry yesterday (water’s also running low), which means you had to borrow Minho’s PJs instead of wearing your Mickey Mouse sweatpants with the tank top from your old basketball team.

You really don’t have time for this, you think. Coldly, “Why?” you fake a lifeless smile.

“You’ve never spoken to me since the day when those mobsters beat the shit out of us.” He pouts like a sad kitten. “Look, I know that it’s my fault okay? I’m sorry. But I really just wanted to hang out with you. If you didn’t play hard to get, you would have saved us a trip to some sketchy neighborhood.”

You stop him right there. “First of all, I did talk to you. Just a maximum of five words per day. And secondly, they didn’t beat the shit out of us, we made them run back to wherever they came from, crying for their mommy while soiling their pants.”

“There!” He exclaims. “You said it yourself. Five words per day. Why? Am I that much of an asshole to hold a civil conversation with? Don’t tell me that you’re still holding grudges from the day we first met.”

“So what if I hold grudges? Do you think holding my best friend at gunpoint is gonna make me wanna befriend you?”

“Okay, bad example—“

“Look, can we talk this out later? I need to go outside and look for some food. We’re running out of those premade, frozen chicken nuggets that my brother’s obsessed with. As always.” You push him aside and place your hand on the doorknob. But Felix catches your hand in time before you can twist it, yanking it back so that you’re facing him, dead in the eye. He’s not letting go of his chance again. “Let-me-go.” You deadpan but receive a frown from him as a reply.

“No,” Felix looks like you just spit on him, his mocha eyes are now unreadable, almost hurt at why you’re acting so cold towards him. Some guys find it hot when girls have this kind of facade on, but this? This shit hurts him, tremendously. You might see him as a spoiled brat at day and party animal at night who just happens to be friends with your brother for all he knows. “I don’t trust your definition of ‘later’. Who knows? You might never let me into your life again after this conversation. I don’t like people shutting me out like this. Tell me, Y/N, do you really hate me that much? If so, I solemnly swear I will never talk to you again.”

Your prepared beforehand witty retort grows dead on the tip of your tongue. His eyes...they’re not lying. It makes your heart crack a bit upon seeing how sad they look right now. Perhaps you were being too harsh on him? Maybe you shouldn’t have judged him from the get-go? “You care about me, don’t you?” Felix reaches his hand upwards to tug a strand of hair behind your ear. He gently grabs your hand and places them on his cheekbone, where a scar is fading by time. “Remember this? You treated me. You do care, Y/N. You’re not stupid enough to think that I didn’t know right?”

You retrieve your hand and scoff. “Why would I care? Did I look like I cared? The only reasons I treated your wounds were because I could witness your pathetic state and I punched you in the face previously. Totally didn’t regret that but still, I wanted to make it up to you.” You say, desperately trying to wiggle your way out of this conversation because you’re not enjoying where this is going.

He inches closer and closer until he’s a breath away from your lips. “Because when you were treating my wounds, you had that dumb look on your face whenever you’re focused.” And you finally exhale when he pulls away, backing out of your room with a smirk. “I’ll wait in the car, your Highness.”

seven.

Going grocery shopping with Felix is rather stressful. Not because there are zombies spontaneously popping out of nowhere every five minutes, but because you quickly, quickly realize that this boy knows nothing about food other than stuffing his face until he can’t even pick himself up anymore. He can’t tell the difference between actually good meat and meat that’s been spoiled for several weeks. You literally can’t even fathom why because the foul smell would definitely give it away but unfortunately, he doesn’t even spare a second to suspect the sketchy hues of green and blue on the red surface.

But hey, at least he can kick some zombies’ asses when you’re too busy deciding between salmon and tuna. You’d always end up getting both anyway because why not? Guess this is what you get for not having to pay for anything. Being stuck with an uneducated fool who’s never once experienced working in the kitchen. The area around here is somewhat isolated so the stores are still pretty stocked up with all of the essentials. Thank God they haven’t run out of Woojin’s favorite chicken nuggets.

“Do you even know what this is?” You throw your hands up midair in disbelief, referring to the pile of grapefruits that are now half-way empty for no particular reason.

Felix makes a thinking face, lips pursing. “I think it’s a flamingo.”

“Lee Yongbok, you gotta be shitting me—“

He stops midway towards the frozen aisle. “Woah woah slow down bro, where did you get that name from?” His Korean name is as confidential as Chan’s secret drawers full of his guilty pleasure food. Not many people call him that because he secretly hates it and whoever takes that advantage to make fun of him deserves the cruelest of punishment. Felix frowns furiously at you before grabbing several packs of the chicken nuggets, fries, and some dumplings to throw them into the cart along with his Tim Tam Slam and your KitKat. “Chan told you right? He’s been on my ass all week since we moved in with you guys.”

You help him with stocking up canned food. “Why though? He seems like such a nice guy.” Okay except for the fact that he almost blew Jisung’s brain out. But you’re not gonna dwell on the past. “No worries though, everyone has probably known your Korean name by now.”

“This is not what I signed up for.”

You aggressively grab him by the neck to ruffle his hair, laughing at his misery. “Look at us, we’re already becoming so civil, I bet my brother is loving this.”

Felix tugs himself free from your grip to fix his hair and huffs. “Could be fate, you know?” He wiggles his brows, making you gag as you both make your way out of the store.

“Right,” you roll your eyes. “And they say I’m the crazy one.”

“No! I’m serious!” He exclaims with two hands up in defense. “One thing leads to another. Are you seeing how far we’ve come?” He pauses for a bit when the two of you reach the car so that he can throw everything to the backseats. “Jisung impulsively stole my ring, which made us run into each other. I met you again because I just happen to be friends with your brother. And since you tried to avoid me so hard, I had an excuse to piss you off so that I’m making up to you right now. How is that not fate?” He ends his speech before entering the car, inserting his key to start the engine.

You jump into the passenger’s seat, scoffing. “Thanks for the pep talk, pretty sure fate’s doing all the work. Now, where are we going?”

“I’m hungry, and I’m craving something.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “And I’m supposed to care because..?”

“Shut up and turn on some music.” He tosses you his phone.

Felix’s playlist consists of a handful of Coldplay’s songs with some other upbeat, trendy ones. He knows enough lyrics to sing along to throughout the drive. You look out the window and loosen yourself up a bit. His voice is surprisingly soothing, a stark contrast to his usual deep talking voice which is kinda nice to listen to. Both of you never start talking because you’re already dozing off to Dreamland because he had the audacity to drag your ass out of bed at eight in the morning. Your head constantly knocks onto the cool glass window every two minutes or so, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering your slumber.

It’s almost noon, and the sun’s probably the only thing that’s keeping Felix awake. He’s hungry, thirsty, sleepy and kind of stiff from occupying the driver’s seat for way too long. He didn’t get any sleep last night, busy thinking of ways to get your attention again. Luckily, he didn’t walk out of your room with a black eye this time. Felix mentally exhales when he pulls up, and his eyes are met with the giant purple and pink neon sign: “Fancy” aka Chan’s favorite place. He shuts the engine off before leaning over to wake you up.

“Meow,” he flinches at the sound and immediately turns to you. You would never possibly make that, would you? “Meow,” there it is again. His eyes shift again to the backseats, squinting hard only to make out a yellow ball of fluff shuffling through the bags of groceries. “Oh my God Soonie, what the hell are you doing here?” He sighs in relief when the cat finally looks up at him, green eyes piercing through the dark.

You stir in your slumber and eventually wake up upon hearing the commotion. “What happened?” A loud yawn escapes your lips when you rub your eyes tiredly. You turn around only to see Minho’s oldest cat pawing at the paper bags. “Are you seeing Soonie in the backseats right now or am I just delusional?”

“Well, that makes two of us. She probably sneaked out again, Minho’s gonna throw hands soon.” Felix scoops Soonie into his arms easily and opens the door. Then, he turns around to look at you. “Come on, I bet you’re hungry, my treat.”

eight.

“Food,” Felix tells you when he shuts the door behind his back. He takes in the cool air of the diner and exhales deeply. God bless humanity for air conditioners.

You nod back without looking at him. “Yeah, food.” And you let him drag you across the diner by the wrist.

The diner is definitely not the place that needs to be booked months in advance. It’s not the kind with large mullioned windows, long embroidered curtains, velvet tables or delicate classical music in the background. It leans more towards the retro style with checkered floor, colorful and fun pieces of furniture, somewhere that makes you feel cozy too. You like it here.

Felix outstretches his limbs and yawns, petting Soonie gently. The cat isn’t as impulsive as she is whenever Doongie or Dori is trying to steal her toy. Thank goodness. “Nayeon!” He smiles and waves at the brunette girl behind the counter.

She quickly catches your eyes with her bunny-like smile, radiant skin, and pretty eyes. When she smiles, her cheeks are bunched up, eyes wrinkling into little crescent moons. The type of smile that will make anyone a little breathless. Then, you hear Felix mumbling that something smells really fucking good when he leans over the counter. You look around the diner once again, although it’s empty, there are still people working as if they don’t mind the given circumstances. These people are all high, they are all insane. They have to be.

Nayeon pulls out a pen along with her notepad, eyeing you with curiosity. “Hey kid, where’s Chan?” And you quickly break eye contact with her, pretending to have some kind of interest in the photo of her with other eight girls right beside the menu. They were on a tropical island, smiling and laughing with the ocean waves splashing against them. All of them are incredibly gorgeous, making you feel small in comparison.

“He’s elsewhere with Woojin today. I’ll take the usual,” Felix slides the smaller version of the menu across the counter, perking a brow for you to take a look at it. “Choose whatever you like.”

You shrug. “Anything will do.”

“Then two of what I already said then.” He nods towards the waitress, earning another warm smile.

Nayeon taps her pen against her cheek, whispering. “Who’s that? Did you find someone?” She looks down at how his hand is holding onto yours and grins mischievously. Felix automatically drops your hand at her words, blushing furiously while looking down in slight embarrassment. “Ah, no need to explain, I’ve got you.” She places a hand on his shoulder and laughs before punching in your order.

“It’s not—“

Nayeon puts her index finger over his mouth. “I’ve got you.” She’s never seen Felix hanging out with any girl other than his sisters before so she’s 90% sure that you’re not just any girl to be able to go to this specific diner with him. By the look of it, there’s gotta be something between you two. How you’re constantly staring into midair and anywhere else to avoid her eagle eyes, how Felix’s cheeks are redder than a tomato. Everything just speaks for itself. “Your orders will be right out.” She beams and walks back into the kitchen. You almost bury yourself alive hearing multiple females squealing and giggling in the distance.

“Sorry about that,” he pushes himself away from the counter before smiling sheepishly. “They just get excited because—“

“Because you’re a coward who’s never been in a relationship before.” You finish his sentence with a smirk, snatching Soonie from his pocket and walk over to one of the round tables.

Felix settles down on the opposite side of the table with a sigh. He shoots you a dirty look before pouting. “God, you’re so mean. Stop exposing my miserable, non-existent love life.”

[1:35p.m.]

meanhoe | uhm hello Kardashians, I’m looking for my eldest daughter Soonie?

woobear | not the living room!

[1:36p.m.]

trashbin | not my room!

drama lama | not the backyard!

old man | not the kitchen either!

[1:37p.m.]

quokka | not the bar too!

meanhoe | tf are you doing at a bar?

quokka | retrieving my sanity…

[1:38p.m.]

meanhoe | you know that my whiskey is wayyy better right?

quokka | DID I STUTTER?

meanhoe | swiped left.

[1:39p.m.]

y/n | she was inside Felix’s Jeep for some reason, we’re at a diner rn, some place called ‘Fancy’?

old man | LEE FELIX YOU TRAITOR!!

old man | YOU BETTER BRING ME SOME WHEN YOU GET HOME.

[1:40p.m.]

meanhoe | bring her home safely, and I’ll make dinner.

meanhoe | if not, I will grab you both by the throat and tear you apart, piece by piece.

meanhoe | there will be no negotiation, no compromise, and no mercy.

You just grin at your phone before putting the device away and shudder slightly. That’s enough Internet for today, boys being boys. This is why you’re low-key terrified of cat lovers. “Well aren’t you busy,” Felix scoffs when he sees that you’re not having any interest in one of the proper conversations with him that rarely happens. “Too busy texting with some cute boy to talk to me instead?” He cocks his head sideways, mustering his best puppy eyes or in this case, kitten eyes because he looks just like ‘Puss in Boots’.

You pinch his nose cutely, making him back off in pain. “If you’re saying Minho aka the freaky dad cat is cute then yes, I am extremely occupied with him threatening my life for having his beloved daughter in my arms.” Then, you allow him to glare at you for as long as he likes while you’re too focused on admiring the view from the window. The sky is oddly blue today, not too cloudy, not too sunny, the air is not that stuffy either. Maybe on a good day, even a zombie apocalypse seems pretty normal. You can understand why these girls still want to run the diner during times like this, simply because they love their job. And they want to help those in need because it’s the least they can do, to give people a heartwarming meal.

“Sorry,” Nayeon walks towards your table with a bowl of warm milk. “The food will be out in a minute, I just don’t want the little thing to starve and be all miserable while you guys are stuffing your faces.” She pets Soonie with the warmest smile and the kitten purrs into her touch, closing her eyes in satisfaction.

Felix pulls her out of your arms and gently places her next to him on the cushioned surface. “Thanks, you didn’t have to do that though. Minho spoils her on a daily basis.”

Curiously, “When did this happen?” You frown before running your index finger over a small hole that just happens to be the size of a bullet, cautious enough to not accidentally cut your finger.

“Oh, that,” The brunette waitress' expression mirrors yours, slightly confused and intrigued. “Huh, I wonder…”

And all of the colors drain on your face. “Duck,” you say breathlessly, breaths coming in short.

“What?” Felix can barely hear his own voice.

Nayeon suddenly looks alarmed. “Everyone get down!” She shouts at the top of her lungs, arms flailing like a madwoman. “GET DOWN! NOW!”

Just then, a bullet pierces right through the window, glass shattering into pieces as you see Nayeon clutching onto her own stomach, blood oozing from her fresh wound. You’re ready to yelp aloud when Felix pulls you down onto the ground with him, letting his body cover up your head and shards of glass cut his cheeks. The diner grows uncomfortably silent when no sound is made, but you still keep your eyes shut and your face buried in his chest.

“Hey hey look at me,” Felix tells you, angling your jaw so that you can make eye contact with him although your eyes are quivering in fear. It’s not the first time you’ve heard a gunshot before but he’s never seen you so shaken up about it before. It hurts seeing you like this. “We’re gonna be okay—“

Before you can reply without tripping over your own words, something falls onto the tiled floor, rolling across the surface to reach the other side of the diner. You squint your eyes hard to make out the shape of the object. It was almost the size of an avocado, round-ish, and dark. No one seems to notice it at all until there’s an ear-piercing sound that keeps beeping, echoing throughout the entire diner.

“Shit—“ You breathe out and hold onto Felix tightly, bracing yourself for the blow.

That’s when the entire place explodes, destroying every single thing until there’s nothing left but the grey ashes that are following the wind to reach the burning sky above.

Utterly demolished, you’d say.

nine.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Woojin says softly when he sits down next to you on your bed. He gives your hand a squeeze in reassurance, heartbroken at your state. You look as pale as a ghost, the bags under your eyes more evident than ever, and your lips chapped, starting to turn purple. You haven’t touched the food that Minho offered for the past few days, still refusing to talk to any of the guys. But he was relieved that you were saved from the pile of ruins by one of the workers there - Jihyo, he believes that’s her name. He wouldn’t know what to do if anything happened to you.

“No,” you shake your head profusely. “Not now.”

“So the thought of losing him does scare the shit out of you?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

“Then you’ve found your happy ending,” your brother ruffles your hair and stands up. “Yes, right in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.” He smiles at you one last time, “Anyway, you better find him then. Godspeed.” before closing the door with a small ‘click’.

Meanwhile, you’re staring at the wooden floor blankly, starting to wonder how filthy rich the previous family living here was. By the look of it, they seemed to be pretty well off but were probably scared shitless when the disease spread like wildfire. With that, they took off running, leaving everything behind to preserve their precious lives. But who knows? They could be some random zombies out there, roaming the streets mindlessly by now.

You space out a lot these days, thinking about random things, but mostly him. You keep on asking yourself where in the world is he, how is he holding up, but it’s all pointless since you don’t even know if he’s still… Anyway, but when you peer at the small mirror on your table, you can see a small glimmer of another presence inside your room. Sometimes you don’t realize how far you can go whenever you’re thinking hard about something. It gets to the point where you don’t even move when Minho or Hyunjin is yelling or screaming about some stupid things right in front of your eyes.

You take another look, eyes growing wide. It’s a glimmer of a pink-haired boy.

“Hey Princess, not gonna choke me to death for intruding your room this time?” Felix jokes before kneeling down in front of you. It takes you an entire two minutes to understand that he’s here. He’s really here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him in person that you’re starting to get emotional just by looking into his eyes. They’re still starry, warm and give you a sense of comfort whenever your gazes touch. “Hey, it’s all good now.” He wipes a single tear away from your face that you didn’t even take notice of.

You choke out, debating on whether you should be bawling your eyes out because he’s safe and sound or kick his ass for worrying you. “You can’t just come back and say that! Do you know how scared I was?! Do you have any idea how many sleepless nights I’ve gone through? And now you’re just gonna come back from the Underworld to tell me that ‘It’s all good now’? Well then if you excuse me, I’m gonna go murder my friends and see if it w—“

Felix figures you still haven’t changed one bit. He knows that you’re a lover, not a fighter. Talking big on the outside but easily hurt on the inside. That’s one of the things that makes you who you are today, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. So he wordlessly leans in to capture your lips in his, swallowing every word, every nonsense, every nag that you’re gonna throw his way until you completely melt into his touch. The kiss makes your head a little fuzzy, and butterflies are tickling at the pit of your stomach. For someone who’s never been in a relationship before, Felix will definitely make you giddy all day with a kiss like this. It’s kind of innocent, kind of childish but unforgettable.

The deeper the kiss gets, the more you think about your conversation with him the other day when he’s driving you to the diner. Fate might be a thing, but still a debatable topic. You’re not gonna say that you believe in fate because that’s a whole lot of commitment for someone who can’t even stay up to date with a short web drama. But maybe, just maybe, fate is doing its job just fine after all because you can’t ask for anyone else to be with you at the end of the world. You know that Felix’s not here just because the universe pities you (or him), or he will love you just for the hell of it either. Everything happens for a reason, but more importantly than ever, he’s not going anywhere this time. You didn’t ask, you’re sure of it by the look in his mocha eyes.

Because like you’ve said before, his eyes never lie. They could never.

You pull away before planting your hands on either side of his shoulders, chest heaving up and down due to shortness of breaths. “How did you...you know, make it?”

“I really thought that I was going to suffocate to my untimely death under the ruins of the diner but the girls found me later on when they were digging through everything. I was knocked out for a good week, some scratches here and there, but no one was hurt severely“ he stops himself before continuing when he sees your glossy eyes. “Nayeon is fine too. She didn’t lose that much blood, surprisingly.”

You let silence fall upon the both of you for a second when a rush of relief runs down your spine. Then, your lips twitch slightly at what you’re going to say next. “Do you know why I treated your wounds that day? Do you know why I stared at the floor when your friend was teasing us? Do you know why I spent the past few days being all depressed and teary in bed?” You ask Felix with such determination that it makes him chuckle.

“Easy,” he grins and caresses your cheekbone the exact same way he did a few days ago. “Because you fell for a spoiled rich kid who knows absolutely nothing about being in love. Just like how I did for you, a girl who’s best at killing the walking dead, not cooking, not cleaning, none of that shit. Weirdly enough, fate brought the two of us together again when we’re both lying on the borderline between life and death.”

You roll your eyes at him and finally crack a smile. The smile that he adores the most. “Then what if fate does us apart? What if it doesn’t want us to end up with each other again? What if this isn’t a happy ending but a beginning to something much more terrifying?”

“In that case,” Felix leans in again, his breath fanning your cheeks. “I will always find you. And look for you, and run to you until I no longer have the strength to lift myself off the ground with my own feet.” He gently slips the silver ring that he treasures with his entire life onto your finger and places small kisses on your knuckles, looking as beautiful as ever.

He’s right, and wrong at the same time. The idea of fate does have some kind of power over mundane mortals like you because you’ve been tied down to the idea of not being able to control your own life since you’re born. But on the other hand, sometimes you just have to take matters into your own hand to be able to get what you want in life. So seeing how determined Felix is to find you even if it means walking to the other side of the planet with his bare feet in spite of being such a naïveté who believes in things that are considered dumb, you know that he’s being serious.

At the same time, you accept the fact that you didn’t find love, it found you because it’s got a little something to do with fate, destiny and what’s written in the stars.

You tell him, voice hoarse. “You’ll find me and never let me go?”

“Not this lifetime, not even in another one.” He says with a smile, eyes crinkling.

#stayshub #stray kids ot9 #lee felix fluff #zombie apocalypse #skz au #skz fanfic #felix fic #lee yongbok #stray kids scenarios #felix x reader #han jisung #yang jeongin #bang chan #kim woojin #lee minho #hwang hyunjin #seo changbin

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makeste · 4 years

Text

BnHA Chapter 275: YAAAAY but Also AHHHHH

Previously on BnHA: Endeavor was all “I’M FIGHTING TOMURA AND YOU CAN’T STOP ME” and set everything on fire. Unlike SOME people, however, it turns out fire is NOT Tomura’s weakness, so he basically just shrugged it off. But before things could progress any further, AFO was all “psst, go get One for All” and Tomura was all “? One for All?” and Endeavor was all “?? One for All?” and Deku and Kacchan, who were listening in on their earpieces, were all “!!!” Having thus realized that Tomura was targeting him, Deku sped off to lead him somewhere away from the civilians... accompanied by his good friend Bakugou “274 chapters of character development have all been leading up to this” Katsuki. Because like hell are you going to have an EPIC BATTLE with the FINAL VILLAIN without him, you damn nerd. Who’s he going to heroically sacrifice himself for if you’re not there?? Hahh!?

Today on BnHA: Deku and Kacchan fly off to battle Tomura after confusing Endeavor into giving them his location (which wasn’t very hard lmao). En route, Deku finally thinks to ask Kacchan why he’s tagging along, and Kacchan is all “DON’T GET ME WRONG, IT’S JUST BECAUSE I WANT REVENGE ON TOMURA, AND DEFINITELY NOT BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT YOU AT ALL, HOW DARE YOU, WHY WOULD YOU EVEN SAY THAT”, which is super convincing and didn’t make me roll my eyes at all. Anyways so then Tomura shows up and is all “EYO TIME TO KILL YOU NOW” and Deku and Kacchan are all “OH SFFKDFK”, but fortunately Gran shows up to save them in the nick of time, because BnHA is literally the only shounen manga in which grown-ups will see kids trying to lead a battle and be like “lol wtf” and actually try to stop that shit instead of being all “what are your orders, children.” The chapter then ends with the heroes doing EXACTLY WHAT THEY SHOULD BE DOING??Namely, having the guy who can TURN OFF QUIRKS battle the guy with the ultimate death quirk! I’m so proud. But also I swear to god, if Tomura so much as breathes suspiciously in his direction...!! What the fuck. HORIKOSHI.

y’all what in the fresh hell is this bs

not yet there isn’t son but if you keep trolling like this I can give your nervous system something to actually be nervous about

anyway. this was his comment from last week’s issue of Jump, and I have absolutely no idea what it’s referring to, is the fun part! did he cry because of something he was working on in a chapter that’s coming up? or is he just tired from a combination of stressful mangaka schedule + 2020 in general?? or hell, for all I know he just recently watched Titanic or some shit

(ETA: KILLING AIZAWA SHOUTA WOULDN’T MAKE SOMEONE CRY OUT OF JOY, THOUGH. RIGHT?!)

anyways I guess it’s time to read and see if I feel like sadly happily crying for two hours afterward

-- oh shit I just realized there are two scanlations out for this?? one from readjump.com, and one from readheroacademia.com. lol now what. uhhh

lulzes. I guess I’ll go with RHA for now and keep checking back to RJ after each page and I’ll go with whichever translation I liked better

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, OUR MILLENNIAL VILLAIN

or would he actually be gen z. he was already in his twenties when this manga started like six years ago, so I’m going with millennial. but on the cusp though I guess. anyway, he plays video games though is the point

and I see he’s already decided to contradict me and my inane speculations not two panels in! I GUESS I AM JUST A FOOL. that’s really interesting though. I wonder if it’s just Monoma’s quirk that doesn’t take the accumulated “save data” from the people he copies from, then? guh. how many of my AFO/OFA theory notes do I have to scrap now

and there’s a little quirk blurb about Search, which is fairly useless given that we already know how it works (actually in even greater detail than shown here), but at least it comes with a cute little picture of Ragdoll in her hero costume, to make us all sad and stuff

so anyways Tomura who are you looking at?? this was a topic of some contention last week! also why were you only seeing nine people then. Ragdoll had seen everyone in 1-A along with Aizawa and her fellow Pussycats at a minimum, so is this confirmation that Tora and Mandalay and Pixie-Bob are all really dead then, because I CAN AND WILL HUNT DOWN A MAN AND MAKE HIM CRY FOR A GOOD DEAL LONGER THAN TWO HOURS IF THAT’S REALLY THE CASE. was Kouta not traumatized enough already?? LET’S JUST ORPHAN HIM AGAIN WHY NOT THAT’S A GOOD PLAN

(ETA: I really hate that we are still up in the air regarding this? and I mean, sure, why not, we only had like a dozen lady heroes to begin with, so why not just kill off two more of them, offscreen, in one fell swoop??)

WHAT IS A SHAME. TOMURA. DAMN IT

(ETA: ??)

-- well hello there

OR MAYBE I WAS NOT A FOOL AT ALL?? lol guys. please do not tell me my hobo husband is flying his vengeful ass over to where Tomura all heedless of the danger because I really do not need that just yet. CAN MY FAVORITE CHARACTERS PLEASE FUCKING TAKE TURNS BEING IN TERRIBLE DANGER INSTEAD OF ALL AT ONCE

sob we’re cutting back to Endeavor and Deku and Kacchan. ACTUALLY THAT’S GOOD THOUGH why am I complaining. I’m just gonna have to get used to the fact that no one is going to truly be safe for the next god knows however many chapters, and make my peace with that. hahaha. yeah right

lmao Deku. “HEY WHAT’S UP, ME AND MY FELLOW CHILD HERE ARE GONNA LURE SHIGARAKI TOWARDS US, BUT WE’LL EXPLAIN OUR REASONS FOR THAT LATER. IF YOU SEE HIM MAKING ANY SUDDEN MOVEMENTS PLEASE INFORM US SO AS TO AID US IN THIS PLAN.” Endeavor if you just go along with this I will lose so much respect for you lmao

lol he is trying to argue a bit but then he’s suddenly cutting off. so in hindsight I don’t know why I said “lol”, really. I’M JUST NERVOUS OKAY

btw in the other translation Deku straight up asks if Endeavor can redirect Tomura towards them. “sure no problem bucko, let me just tell the walking apocalypse exactly where he can find you, my two sixteen-year-old interns whose safety I am responsible for. I was just thinking to myself that I hadn’t had my fill of crazy ill-thought-out plans with a high risk of death today”

holy --

okay I have not the SLIGHTEST clue what’s going on here, even after analyzing both scans, except that someone, probably Tomura, either just went CRONCH or just GOT cronched just now lmao. let us read on to find out who was cronched and who did the cronching

the rest of this page is not really much more helpful

but I am becoming increasingly suspicious that those were in fact Tomura’s new, improved and ridiculously thicc legs doing the cronching as he did a Marvel Superhero Landing from the most RIDICULOUS ANGLE POSSIBLE

LMAO NOW WHAT

so he just cronched onto the ground and fooshed Endeavor and then went flying off again huh

LMAO AT EVERYTHINNNNNG

THANK YOU ENJI. HE’LL LURE HIM AWAY. lols WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TELL THEM WHICH WAY HE WAS HEADED YOU BOOB

he really just fucking hung up on him afterwards too. just, “got it thanks amigo just leave everything to me, [CLICK]”

OH MY GOD

BECAUSE WE CAN’T HAVE ANYONE ELSE CONVENIENTLY INTERFERING WHEN YOU HAVE YOUR LITTLE THROWDOWN OF DESTINY HUH. THAT WOULD JUST BE TERRIBLE

-- oh shit

that’s just. a SLIGHT change in meaning, there. silly me. thinking “get rid of them” meant “get rid of their communications as opposed to FUCKING KILLING THE ONE YOU’RE NOT ACTUALLY AFTER. hmm. well that’s not good

(ETA: never have I been so happy that a translation was wrong lmao.)

so now Endeavor’s shouting at everyone else that Tomura is heading southwest and that he has “SUPER REGENARTION” (sic) and is no longer THE SAME THUG HE WAS BEFORE and yeah RHA you have officially won me over, flaws and all. listen up boyos. this ain’t your granddaddy’s Shigaraki Tomura. this one regenars

also “that damn kid...” like why the hell did my son have to go and befriend two protagonists. why is this my life now

AHAHAHAHA

“MIDORIYA IS IN DANGER...!!” STORY OF THIS MANGA. AHAHA. KACCHAN HE’S COMING. HE’S COMING, KACCHAN. for you two. someone please help me I am both terrified and thrilled beyond all recognition and my body doesn’t know how to handle the conflicting emotions. honestly crying for two hours is starting to sound more and more appealing

oh my god I forgot they didn’t know, though

fff. Kacchan especially didn’t know, because unlike Deku he doesn’t have random bits of other people’s souls going “heyyyyyyy... transcendent being at 12 o’clock.” what has this kid so bravely and stupidly gone and gotten himself into

look at them go

damn Deku can you really not float yet?? that’s going to be really inconvenient if that’s the case

(ETA: my boy really would have just straight up died. he would have died so hard.)

OH MY GOD

NOW YOU WANT TO ASK HIM LMAOOOO. well it’s because of all the character development!! if you must know

THAT’S NOT AN ANSWER BLASTY MCANGERTY

you’re not as smooth as you think you are, you know. we all know why you actually followed him. but fine, be that way

okay so now he’s giving a real-er answer though

“understand the situation”, the situation being that your best friend and his secret-trump-card-in-the-battle-against-evil quirk were being targeted by the guy who just obliterated this entire city. got it. you put it quite succinctly

and Deku is all

and Kacchan is all

love how he throws that protagonist crack in there too. because we all know that Deku absolutely is the protagonist lol, and so if that part’s obviously not true, we can make some inferences about the rest of what he’s saying too now can’t we

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh snap

YOU SURE DO!! and he does with you too!! :) it’s gonna be one big happy reunion! :) :) :) oh gosh golly

OH NO KATSUKI WHAT ARE YOU DOING

what are you doing to me, I should clarify. please be considerate of my feelings. you can’t just DUMP sudden Kacchan Kamino Angst on me without any warning, you have to let me know in advance so that I can buy some thank you cards

THERE’S MOREEEEE???

YOU REMEMBER TOO, DON’T YOU DEKU. HE WAS ALL CRYING AND STUFF. IT WAS A LOT. IT’S POSSIBLE THAT I HAVE NEVER PERSONALLY GOTTEN OVER IT

AND IT LOOKS LIKE HE NEVER QUITE GOT OVER IT EITHER

:’)

by the way in the other translation he says “I’ll make up for what I did that day.” so yeah. BOOM. right to the heart. shot of me collapsing to the ground in slow motion

but it’s interesting though that he still can’t admit to having selfless motives yet! even after everything he’s been through and all his character growth! he’s still all GET RID OF THE REFERENCES TO ME CARING ABOUT YOU, WE CAN’T LET PEOPLE KNOW WE HAVE FEELINGS

but even his Kamino feels are notably first and foremost about him feeling responsible for failing All Might. so yeah, buddy. where does that leave you? even your feeble excuses are still rooted in selflessness, JUST GIVE IN AND ADMIT YOU’VE BEEN SECRETLY GIVING A SHIT BEHIND EVERYONE’S BACK. and honestly he might be better off at this point if he didn’t! BUT HE DOES. and that’s that

anyways Deku I sure hope you and your big hero brain can see right through this nonsense

god. you’re both in so much danger though, do you even have any idea?! of course you fucking don’t. god

HELLO BAKUGOU NARRATION!?!

well that’s one hell of a rare sight!! all fresh and chock full of shrewd observations about his best rival’s current skillset. ah what a time we’re living in

ooooh

gonna hold off commentary until I read the next part of this lol

OOOOOH

goddamn. Horikoshi really went off this week. just a whole chapter’s worth of Stuff Makeste Really Likes, goddamn is it my birthday or what

so do you guys think he’ll be able to keep pace all the way up to 100%? I can see this part being interpreted in two totally different ways if I’m being honest. on the one hand we have the more pessimistic (some would say realistic) view that Bakugou is desperately trying to convince himself that he’s still on the same level as the rival he so desperately wants to surpass, but with the sinking feeling that he’s actually not going to be able to keep up for much longer. and then on the other side of the coin we have the more glass-half-full perspective that he actually is capable of keeping up with him right to the bitter end. that even as Deku grows stronger, he’ll continue to push himself and use that as motivation to keep getting stronger too. that Deku isn’t out of reach; that his goal isn’t out of reach

and I’m not completely sure which way this is leaning myself! I personally would like to lean more towards the second interpretation, because y’all know I love me some rivals. and also because imo one of the most commendable things about Bakugou’s development has been how he hasn’t once been envious of Deku’s strength or of his position as All Might’s chosen heir since he learned about OFA. he hasn’t once shown any kind of resentment towards him for it, or doubted whether or not he deserves it. and as minor a detail as that may seem to some people, I cherish it. and I don’t want that to change! but I guess we shall see

so now we’re getting the clearest shot we’ve had yet of the new AFO holes in Tomura’s palms as he gets ready to combine some more quirks. also! more information about the quirks he has and is using! fucking thank you, where was this last week

so “radio waves” is clearly going to be used here to disrupt the heroes’ communication, which is a shame for them, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t relieved given the alternative! the RJ translation is clearly just a hot mess lol. but I still adore that one “I’ll make up for what I did” line though

WOW

THE DISRESPECT. LOL DID YOU JUST FUCKING KILL HIS ASS

(ETA: I just realized he’s nowhere to be found after this, though, so... did he?? or is he now lying somewhere now all wounded and waiting to be found by one, or, dare I say, two of his sons? ...)

LKDFJLSDKGHOSIDGHOISDflkwejfdfsdklggdflgnfdlgndakgalkgldfdfkwlfwiowelKLDSGKSL:DKGJL:DKFM?G?SGSDLKG?SDFSDF??LKJ@L!

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT

even if you ask him nicely??! somehow I just can’t help feeling that he probably shouldn’t oblige you, though!?!?!

anyways. THAT AIN’T SAFE. and what the hell is happening in that bottom left corner ahhhhhh

AHHHHHHH

GRAN DM ME YOUR ADDRESS I WANT TO SEND YOU SOME FLOWERS AND A BASKET OF FRUIT AND CRACKERS AND SOME LITTLE CHEESES AND SAUSAGES

jesus christ it completely slipped my mind that there was one other person currently in the vicinity who knows about OFA. my good sir, maybe you would like to introduce these two dunderfucks to the concept of a “plan.” and maybe you can also find the single shared braincell they apparently dropped and lost somewhere back there in all the city rubble

oh fuck me

(ETA: does Kacchan look so rattled here because he is being lectured, or because he just saw a vision of his own death and is now having it explained to him just how close he came to being decomposed. you decide! I’ll just sit here and bask in the angst.)

fuck. main character gods were really working overtime here. anyways so how are you all doing this fine Friday afternoon. me, I’m just sitting here wrangling with the knowledge that Tomura’s quirk is even deadlier than I realized, and that my two little boys came within inches of dying horrible deaths just now. but anyways it’s not as humid today as it was yesterday so that’s really nice

anyways so now Gran is continuing to lecture the mayor of Dumb Ideas Town here, along with his friend the deputy mayor who still thinks he outranks the actual mayor

SHH NOW AND LISTEN TO YOUR GRANDPA

-- ohhhh shit son are they mounting a counterattack?? don’t tell me!!

also is Gran seriously faster than Tomura. that makes no fucking sense, and yet these two are only alive now because of it so I’M SURE NOT GONNA QUESTION IT

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

AND IS AIZAWA ON HER BACK THOUGH???

AHAHHAHAHAHAHA

AH, BUT IT AIN’T GONNA WORK THOUGH, IS IT!!! AHAHAHA YESSSSSS

excellent question sir. the short answer is “they’re idiots”, and the long answer is just a longer version of “they’re idiots” but with some more complicated BakuDeku feels mixed in. I’ll tell you all about it if you just promise me that you’ll actually live through this, all right?

“is he after the two of them?” listen boy if you don’t finally put two and two together after this I’m gonna be fucking beside myself lol. (though honestly, Deku and Kacchan have been targeted by the League so many other times already that he might just simply accept “yeah they’re after them again” without any further explanation)

my dear gentlefolk would you fucking look at how the lord has blessed us on this day

Aizawa Fucking Shouta and the motherfucking dramatic intro to end all dramatic intros. finally this man gets his moment

someone please teach me how to cast a force field. teach me how to reach into the manga and slap this man and tell him to stop talking about how everyone’s noble sacrifices to protect him and his eraser quirk have led him to this day and to this one encounter. my guy. my fucking dude. THERE HAD BETTER BE SUBSEQUENT ENCOUNTERS AFTER THIS

NOOOOOOOOOOOO

ISN’T HE THOUGH??? Tomura I love you sweetie but you better BACK THE FUCK. OFF

well FINE THEN! BE THAT WAY. it’s not like my life revolves around you and your stupid manga anyway!! it’s not like I’m obsessed with it or anything!! I have other hobbies!! well I actually do have other hobbies, so that doesn’t really work as sarcasm, so let’s see though. maybe something more like, “this isn’t by far my favorite out of all my hobbies!!” I don’t spend 80-90% of my free time on any given day either actively or passively daydreaming about this series and writing essays in my head and reading fanfic and scrolling through art on tumblr!! etc.!! whatever!! enjoy your break!! have fun living your life!!

please don’t kill Aizawa

#bnha 275 #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #shigaraki tomura #aizawa shouta #endeavor #gran torino #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #well then #now that I have 'fixed' this post and am playing by tumblr's rules #I wonder if it's too late to get it unhidden from the tag search :/

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kumeko · 3 years

Photo

A/N: For BNHA Apocalypse zine! I couldn’t resist doing some Big Three after an eco disaster. This was one of my favourite zines to be in, the mods were amazing with editing and helped polish this piece up so much.

…

Hesitantly, Tamaki stepped through the doorway. It was stupid, really, that he couldn’t just walk right in. The house had been abandoned for years. In fact, he could hardly call it a house at this point. Vines creeped up the brick front, tendrils curling into the stone and through it to the house. Above him, the roof was a patchwork of holes and rotten wood. The plaster and insulation were long gone by now, leaving a skeleton of trusses. With the entire right wall collapsed, letting in light and wildlife, Tamaki wasn’t certain of the structural stability of the building. It wouldn’t be long now till it collapsed, like many of the houses in this neighbourhood.

Still, at some point it had been someone’s home. People used to live, laugh, and cry in here. It had been a long time, but Tamaki still remembered what that meant. He might have been a child when the world ended, but his parents had raised him with manners. Even now, he wanted to ask Hello? Anyone home?

That was dangerous, though. A wild animal might hear him and while most were content to leave him alone, you could never be too careful. When the zoo had been forgotten, the animals in it found their chance to escape. Bears, lions, tigers—Japan now had a strange assortment of unnatural animals. Or, at least, Iida had claimed. The younger boy read any books he could get his hands on and his knowledge was second to none.

Forcing down his worries, Tamaki scanned the first room. There was an overturned couch, holes in it from animals trying to find a home. Glass crunched underfoot from a blown-in window. This was a living room, most likely. A stuffed doll lay nearby, button eyes falling out and covered in soot. He wondered if its owner had managed to get away. He wondered if they’d survived.

He tried not to think about it anymore. This room was clear of any food or tools and he moved on toward the kitchen. It was just as much of a mess as the first. Cupboards had been torn off their hinges and there was a gaping hole where their fridge must have been. This place had most likely been picked clean, scavenged entirely at the beginning of this disaster. Moss and dandelions sprouted on the water-logged wood and the floor was a carpet of grass. Half-heartedly, he pulled open a drawer. Inside, he saw several dusty spoons and a battered flat spoon.

Utterly useless. Tamaki closed it before yanking it open again. Staring at the flat spoon, he brushed it gently. This was familiar. His fingers curled around the wooden handle and he’d done that before. Vaguely, he remembered dragging a stool to the kitchen counter, standing on his tippy-toes as he watched his mother spread icing on a cake.

It’s tasty, isn’t it? She’d offered him the flat spoon, white icing covering the edges. Clean the spatula after.

A spatula. He smiled, holding it up. It was a spatula. There was no point to a spatula here, there weren’t bakery shops or cakes anymore. Making a cake was a waste of resources and even if they could scrape one together, icing was next to impossible to make. It was a waste of space to take it.

Yet, despite himself, he took it. As he tucked it into his knapsack, he heard footsteps behind him. He whirled around, unsheathing his dagger from his belt for defense.

“Tamaki!” chirped a familiar voice. “You here?”

It was just Mirio. Relaxing, Tamaki sighed and sheathing his dagger. “Yeah.”

“There you are!” Mirio beamed as he poked his head in the kitchen. “Find anything?”

“No.” Tamaki shook his head sadly. More and more often, that was the case—entire scavenger missions went without gathering a single thing. It was a good thing they’d finally figured out farming, otherwise, he wasn’t sure what they’d do. “You?”

“Nope.” Mirio shrugged, still smiling brightly. “Buuutttt,” he dragged out, a twinkle in his eye, “Nejire found something.”

Tamaki stared at him. Rubbing his forehead, he muttered, “How does she do that?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s part hound,” Mirio whispered conspiratorially. “She also found some mushrooms. Could you check?”

Tamaki grimaced before nodding. Once, he hadn’t inspected Nejire’s finds and everyone had food poisoning for two days. Once, and never again.

-x-

“Mushrooms!” Nejire shouted energetically, waving her hands above her. Her voice echoed between the skyscrapers, drowning out the birds and other wildlife as they travelled through the city.

Tamaki shushed her, glancing around worriedly. While the journey back to their home base was safer than their trek away from it, that didn’t make it absolutely safe. Wild animals could be around any corner, jaws and claws ready to tear them into two. A building might collapse, crushing them. Their path might be blocked, forcing them to take a longer route across rotting roof tiles that were one wrong step away from a bad fall.

Honestly, he didn’t know how Mirio and Nejire did this on a daily basis. Tamaki only joined them once a week. He spent most of his time helping at the base. It would take him days to calm down from each mission. And yet here was Nejire, arms clasped behind her back, softly humming as they walked.

If there was one good thing about scavenging, he had to admit there was something pretty about the city. Pretty and sad. The looming towers around him were filled with broken windows, destroyed by the elements and animals. No matter where he looked, there was a plant. Trees poked their branches through buildings, their growth accelerated by the chemicals that triggered this whole apocalypse. Even though he couldn’t see them, Tamaki could hear animals moving underbrush. While he could barely remember what a city used to look like, he was certain this was the exact opposite of it.

Still, even this sight wasn’t tempting enough for him to do this everyday.

Mirio clapped his back, an easy smile on his face. They were always so easy for him. “It’s fine. We cleared this path days ago, there’s nothing waiting for us here.”

Somehow, that didn’t reassure Tamaki. He nodded anyways. Pushing his hair away from his face, he prayed silently to some distant deity for protection. Then again, if anyone out there listened, they wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place.

“Hey, hey.” Nejire poked his shoulder, her voice muted. It still sounded far too loud, but it was something. “I found a lot today, right?” She started to tick them off with her fingers. “Mushrooms, bird eggs, that squirrel—”

“We’ll feast tonight!” Mirio rubbed his hands together and licked his lips. “I wonder what Mrs. Midoriya will make with this.”

Tamaki glanced to his left and right, to where Nejire was still itemizing every piece of food she’d gathered and Mirio was daydreaming about delicacies that no longer existed. He smiled. Sometimes, when it was just the three of them, it was hard not to think the future would get better. “Yeah, you did good today, Nejire.”

She beamed at the praise. It was always easy to make her happy. Bouncing forward, she asked, “What about you? Find anything?”

“Uhh…” Tamaki pulled his hoodie up, his shoulders hunched as he shook his head. All those hours of searching and nothing to show for it. It was a waste of energy and supplies to send him out with them. “Nothing.”

Nejire’s expression softened and she bumped shoulders with him. “Next time, then! I guess I win today.”

“It’s not a game—” Her touch jostled his bag and from the corner of his eye, he noticed the spatula fall out.

Before he could pick it up, Mirio grabbed it. “You did find something.”

Nejire peered down at it, cocking her head. “What is it?”

“It’s not…” Nejire looked at him with curious eyes and Tamaki looked down, scuffing his shoe on the ground. Quietly, he mumbled, “It’s a spatula.”

They both had good ears. That, or they were used to him by now. Mirio held it up in the light, grinning brightly. “Ohh, I haven’t seen these in ages.”

Brow knitted, Nejire scratched her cheek. “Hey, hey, what do you do with it?”

“You’ve never seen one?” Mirio shot her a baffled look. “Seriously?”

When Nejire merely pouted in response, puffing her cheeks, Tamaki gingerly plucked the spatula out of Mirio’s hands. Pointing at the wide flat side, he explained, “It’s used to spread things. Like icing on a cake.”

“Ohh, icing.” Nejire snatched the spatula, running her fingers along the edge. Her eyes grew wide as she felt the plastic top. “Not sharp at all.”

“It’s not meant for cutting.” Tamaki rubbed his neck when she turned to him.

“You really do know a lot about food,” she praised, handing back the spatula. “That’s amazing.”

“Not really.” He felt his ears burn from the compliment. It wasn’t something he deserved. “I just helped my mom a lot when I was younger.”

“Lucky.” Nejire clasped her arms behind her back as she took the lead now. There was something wistful in her tone. “It must have been fun.”

At times like this, Tamaki remembered just how little he knew of Nejire. Mirio had been his classmate before this happened. The second Tamaki had stepped into his kindergarten classroom, Mirio had grabbed his hands and declared instant friendship. They’d been together for so many years, they practically knew each other inside and out.

Nejire, on the other hand, suddenly appeared a few years ago and wiggled her way into their company. It was natural now, to eat, sleep, and spend time with her. Her profile as she sat in front of the fire, keeping watch, was something he was aware of intimately. Yet she’d never spoken of her past and he didn’t know what the Nejire of ‘before’ was like, of what changes she’d gone through to reach the cheerful girl she was now. Maybe nothing. Maybe a lot.

Had she cooked with her parents? Or did she wish she had? Tamaki almost asked about her family aloud, and barely reined himself in, snapping his mouth shut.

It didn’t really matter. They were all orphans now.

-x-

“Alright, made it!” Mirio cheered, running the last few steps to what had once been a high school gymnasium. At one point, the walls must have echoed with the sounds of dozens of balls, cheering students, and squeaking sneakers. Now, the place was in shambles like the rest of the world. Even worse, as it was an older school and the building had needed repairs even before all this happened.

Still, it was a large, covered area. Just perfect for the survivors in their area to meet. Some preferred to stay close, sleeping in the nearby school. Others had their own hideouts away from the crowd. All met here once a day, to gather supplies and divvy up meals.

Nejire ran in after Mirio, chirping eagerly, “Guess what I found today!”

Tamaki frowned before following them in. This was his least favourite part of the day; there were so many people in here. Unlike the relative solitude of the city, this gymnasium felt like what the world must have been like before: crowded and noisy. Maybe it was a good thing he never would have to deal with it.

As he stepped through the big, barely-on-their-hinges doors, Tamaki blinked and adjusted to the dim lighting inside. It was gloomy inside, barely lit by a half-dozen. Squinting, he could just make out Mirio and Nejire. Next to them was a plump woman. He didn’t have to hear her voice to recognize Mrs. Midoriya. Her dark green hair had a strange shine to it in the poorly lit room.

“And you’re sure you’re okay?” she asked, wringing her hands she examined Nejire. She paid no attention to the bag of food at her feet. “Nothing too dangerous today?”

“Nope!” Nejire giggled as she twirled around, demonstrating her health. She wiggled her fingers and then her legs, and added, “I’m in one piece.”

Mrs. Midoriya gave her a flat look before sighing. “I can’t tell if you’re making fun of me or not.” She turned to Mirio. “And you?”

“In perfect health!” Mirio flashed her a thumbs up and grinned charmingly. As usual, it worked and she relaxed slightly. “It was easy.”

“That’s what you always say.” Like clockwork, she turned her focus to Tamaki. As she fussed over him, she grumbled, “All of you don’t take it seriously enough out there. It’s dangerous! And Izuku wants to join you in searching.”

“It’s not that bad,” Mirio consoled, picking up the food bag and carrying it over to the big cooking pots. It was easier if they cooked a big communal meal and it was easiest if it was a stew or soup of some sort. Tamaki could understand—nothing got wasted that way—but he was tired of the taste. “As long as you’re careful.”

Nejire watched him disappear before chiming in. “We’re always careful.”

“Always?” Mrs. Midoryia clicked her tongue disapprovingly, not buying a single word. Finally pulling away from Tamaki, she bit her lip. “I’m trying to keep him away from all of this but…” She gave them a helpless look. “I suppose I don’t really have a choice in the matter.”

“We’ll keep him safe,” Nejire promised, grabbing her hands and squeezing them tightly.

Tamaki nodded and smiled awkwardly. “He’ll be fine as long as he learns the ropes.”

“I trust you.” Mrs. Midoriya smiled back sadly. “I…I know this is hard on you all. You’re so young! You should be worried about tests. But…thank you, for everything.” Trembling, she gripped Nejire’s hand back tightly. “I’ll make sure to cook you a tasty dinner, okay? It’s all I can do, I know, but—”

“Hey, hey, I love your cooking!” Nejire exclaimed. “I want it every day.”

“You have it every day,” Mrs. Midoriya laughed weakly.

Nejire smiled. “Then I’m very lucky.”

-x-

Home was a small lab, located two blocks from the school. Tamaki couldn’t remember who’d found it, if Nejire had tumbled into it or Mirio had realized what it was or if Tamaki had just opened it accidentally. They’d lived here almost as long as they’d known Nejire and Tamaki couldn’t breathe easily until they were inside once again.

It was a little bit of a hassle, walking to and from the school. Especially since so many of the classrooms had been converted to individual bedrooms for privacy. Tamaki could probably bear with it, but he liked it better here. It hadn’t weathered all that well, with vines and flowers creeping out of vents and climbing the walls in a desperate attempt to get a little sunlight. There were large glass vats, broken and cracked, their contents long gone. Nejire and Mirio liked to guess what they’d held—giant sewer rats, dinosaurs, and a slime monster were the favourite choices.

There were several side rooms, filled with dusty computers, thin beds, and tables cluttered with moldy books. With no central heating, they’d pushed together several beds and dumped all the blankets in an effort to keep warm during the winter. Even as they ate now, sitting on the floor, Nejire nestled in between Tamaki and Mirio for heat. “This is cuddly,” she declared happily, her bowl teetering precariously on her lap. She always managed to keep it upright but Tamaki worried it’d fall one day.

Mirio hummed his agreement, squeezing a little closer. “I’m in the middle next time.”

“Nope,” Nejire shut him down immediately, taking a spoonful from her stew. “Mmmm, this is great.”

That, Tamaki had to agree. What they lacked in variety, they didn’t lack in taste. And though he was used to his companions’ cooking (judging by the slight kick in it, Momo must have helped), it wasn’t bad to eat in the least.

“That reminds me.” Mirio took a spoonful himself, blowing on it to cool his bite. “They found a girl today.”

“They did?” Tamaki hadn’t thought it was possible to find anyone new at this point.

“Yeah.” Mirio grinned brightly. “Eri’s six and really cute.”

No mention of her parents. Tamaki knew better than to ask. “She’s staying at the school?”

“Yeah, Mrs. Midoriya said she’d take care of her.” Mirio stared thoughtfully at his bowl. “She’s just six.”

Before he could wonder why Mirio was stuck on that, Nejire asked, “Hey, hey, does that mean she doesn’t know what it’s like before?”

Oh. Suddenly, he understood. At six, this must have been the only world she’d ever known. This world of ruin would always be her ‘before’. Tamaki wondered if it was better that way, to not have a point of comparison. It had to be easier to adapt, at the very least.

Sensing the shifting mood, Mirio reached over Nejire and poked Tamaki. “The weather’s getting nice now. Which means it’s your birthday soon!”

“Ehhhh?” Nejire stared at him, her mouth open. “Hey, hey, you didn’t tell me that!”

“I…” Tamaki flushed and looked into his stew. “It isn’t that important.”

“It’s always important, it’s your birthday!” Nejire disagreed, crossing her arms.

“He was born in March, so it’s got to be March soon.” Mirio scratched his cheek, nose scrunching as he thought. “Maybe Iida knows? He’s keeping a calendar, right?”

“When’s yours?” Nejire asked, shooting Mirio a suspicious look.

“July,” Mirio laughed, bumping shoulders with her. “Don’t worry, it hasn’t passed yet.”

“That gives me just enough time to plan,” Nejire murmured and Tamaki wondered if he should find out what that entailed. For safety’s sake, at least.

-x-

Sometimes, when the others were out, Tamaki liked to climb onto one of the platforms in the main lab and think about nothing. There was something beautiful about the room, about the plants forcing their way out of every crevice. A bird flew by overhead, breaking in from one of dozens of gaps in the building. Broken machines and lab equipment surrounded him—scientific scanners and screens that were too cracked to even show his reflection. At one point, it must have been busy here. Probably.

Tamaki couldn’t say he knew enough to even pretend to understand this room. No one he knew understood it, and he wondered if the knowledge was lost for good. He and Mirio had snuck into a museum once, looking at the displays of foreign animals and lost civilizations. This room wouldn’t be out of place there. They wouldn’t be out of place there. Maybe in the future, someone would call them a forgotten people.

A soft glow caught his eye and he looked up as a flock of butterflies soared to the roof, searching for a way out. Tamaki didn’t know science or tech, but he knew nature. He knew the changes that happened to even the most innocuous of creatures. Those butterflies glowed as softly as moonlight, and he wondered if they would have glowed anyways or if the end of the world had changed them irreparably too. There were so many plants and animals that were just different from their usual counterparts. It was the new normal.

Maybe it was a good thing. He didn’t know much of the world ‘before’, there was only so much you could know as a child, but from what Iida and Izuku learned, it was a world teetering on the brink of disaster. One way or another, they would have ended up here anyways. He only wished they could have been more prepared.

Opening his knapsack, he searched for the spatula. It was silly, but he wanted to hold it again. He could almost smell his mother’s baking, even though he couldn’t remember what it was. Digging through the bag, he frowned as he came up empty. Had he dropped it somewhere? It was probably for the best, but he couldn’t stop the disappointment welling up inside.

“Tamaki!”

A hurried shout snapped Tamaki out of his thoughts and he slipped off his perch. Recognizing Mirio’s voice, he jogged to the entrance. “What’s the matter?”

A disheveled, wild-looking Mirio grabbed his hand. “Nejire! She’s in trouble.”

-x-

Tamaki stared at the behemoth grizzly bear. As they had raced to the city’s center, he had expected something dangerous if only because of how hard Mirio’s hand shook as he dragged him along. It wasn’t a surprise that Nejire was in trouble—she got easily distracted, following one thought and then another without any concern for her surroundings. It was the reason she found things no one else could. It was also the reason that this wouldn’t be the first nor last time Mirio had ran to him in a panic.

Still, out of all the reasons Nejire could be in danger, Tamaki had not expected this. Crouching behind a dumpster, Tamaki peeked around the corner at the giant bear as it sniffed around an old telephone pole. The beast looked twice as big as any he’d seen before, its claws glowing unnaturally in the sunlight. Whatever had infected the butterflies hadn’t stopped there and Tamaki momentarily wondered if there was some unnoticed change in people too.

Not that it would help either way. The bear snuffled on the ground, yawning occasionally to reveal a jaw full of sharp fangs. Fortunately, Nejire could climb, and she had hoisted herself high above the bear. This bear was far too big to follow. It also didn’t seem particularly concerned with her. That was good—this must have been an accidental run-in, Nejire crossing paths with a bear barely awake after hibernation. The only problem was that every time its big body bumped into the telephone pole, the thin tower trembled. It wouldn’t be long before it cracked and broke, taking down Nejire with it.

“What do we do?” Tamaki whispered, leaning against the dumpster. Breathing shallowly, he tugged on his collar.

“It doesn’t seem hungry, at least.” Mirio crouched and peeked over the dump. “It might not realize Nejire’s there. Maybe if I can lure it away, you can grab her and run.”

“What?” Tamaki grabbed Mirio’s arm, shaking his head furiously. “That’s too dangerous! You don’t know what it can do.”

“It’s okay.” Mirio smiled reassuringly, resting his hand on top of Tamaki’s. His grip was firm. “I’ll run along the rooftops—it can’t climb, so I’ll be safe up there.”

“But—”

“We can’t leave her,” Mirio pointed out, already moving away. He had always been a hero. Tamaki hoped it wouldn’t kill him this time. “I’ll meet you at the school.”

Tamaki bit his cheek. Nejire could only hold onto that pole for so long. There weren’t any other options. “The school?” he asked, reluctantly getting into position.

“She might be injured.” Mirio called over his shoulder, already sprinting away before Tamaki could so much as tell him to be careful.

Tamaki watched him disappear into a nearby building before turning back to Nejire. His hands were clammy and he wiped the sweat on his pants. This was frightening. After this, they had to keep a leash on Nejire or something. There was no way he could fight a bear on a regular basis.

As promised, after a few minutes the bear looked up and lumbered away. Tamaki faintly heard Mirio yelling—was he just using noise or also food to lure the predator away? Either way, he didn’t have time to think about it. He had to get Nejire. They had to go back. After the bear disappeared, he waited five long seconds before dashing up to the telephone pole.

“Nejire!” Tamaki glanced around nervously. The bear wasn’t in sight anymore. “Come down!”

Nejire peeked down. “Tamaki?”

“You have to hurry!” he urged, scanning around him once more. It was too quiet now. He couldn’t even hear birds chirp. Was there another bear lurking nearby? Or some other, more dangerous creature?

“Where’s the bear?” Nejire looked around, confused. She started to slowly shuffle down when she realized the coast was clear.

“Mirio’s distracting it.” He wished they still had radios, but it was too hard to find working batteries.

Landing on the ground with a thud, Nejire stumbled forward a few steps before regaining her balance. She groaned lightly as she rubbed her arms. “Ouch.”

“Did it hurt you?” Tamaki focused on her, scanning her body for wounds and blood. Aside from a few scrapes on her knees and hands from climbing the pole, she looked fine.

“Nothing broken,” Nejire replied, still wincing as she rolled her shoulders. “Just really, really, really sore.”

“Can you walk?” Tamaki asked. When she nodded, he grabbed her hand and started sprinting back to the school. Mirio would meet them there. He just had to.

-x-

“Mirio!” Tamaki leapt to his feet as Mirio stumbled into the school’s hallway. Dashing to his friend, he checked for any injuries and sighed with relief when the only thing he found was a cut on his thigh. “You okay?”

“Almost perfect!” Mirio grinned weakly and winked. Even if he wasn’t injured, he was clearly very tired, and Tamaki looped an arm around his waist as he guided him to a nearby chair. “That bear can run.”

“It’s a bear.” Tamaki fretted when Mirio groaned. “Did you break anything?”

“No, no, I’m good. Just, you know, really sore.” Mirio leaned back and closed his eyes. “How’s Nejire?”

Tamaki glanced back at the Nurse’s room, where Nejire was getting checked. They might not have a doctor, but they did have bandages and two people who had taken a first aid course. It had to be enough. “Sore. She seemed fine.”

Mirio sighed. Relaxing, he opened his eyes. “Mission success! Thanks, Tamaki.”

“I…I didn’t really do anything.” Tamaki shook his head, uncomfortable with the praise. “You both did the hard work.”

“I could only do that cause I knew you were there.” Mirio winced as he grabbed Tamaki’s hand and squeezed it. “You were great.”

It still wasn’t something he deserved, but he knew from past experience that Mirio and Nejire refused to listen to that. It was better just to accept and end the conversation there. “You should get your leg checked.”

“After.” Mirio stared at the door. “Do you think—”

The door swung open, interrupting him. An exhausted Nejire trudged out, yawning slightly. Noticing them, she perked up and beamed brightly, though her energy was still nothing near her usual levels. “Mirio! You’re back!”

“You’re safe!” he replied cheerfully, rising to his feet.

Nejire wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight. She nestled her head in his chest. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” His voice softened as he hugged her back. “You too?”

“Mmm.” She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

Mirio shook his head. “It’s fine. What happened?”

“I was looking for berries and I guess the bear was too.” Nejire fell silent. “I thought it wouldn’t go away.”

That was a fear Tamaki had shared and suddenly, he was overwhelmed with the urge to touch, to confirm that they were both here. Stepping closer, he brushed his fingers against their arms, feeling sparks run up his hand at their heat. Without another word, Mirio pulled him into the hug and Nejire grabbed his shirt with a hand.

For once, he didn’t mind. He could hear them breathing, feel their heart beating. They were still alive. They had made it through another day. They were still together and that was all that mattered.

-x-

In hindsight, Tamaki should have realized something was up the second Nejire insisted they stay at the school for dinner. They never did that. Then again, they also never had run-ins with bears and he was still calming down, so he hadn’t thought too much of it. Mirio and Nejire could have asked him anything and he would have said yes, if only to stay closer to them.

For a while, it had been all three of them sitting in one of the teacher’s lounges, huddled on a ratty couch. A mess of arms and legs, all tangled up as they waited for dinner. At some point, Nejire had pulled away, and Tamaki had slipped into an uneasy sleep.

“Tamaki,” Mirio whispered, poking his shoulder.

Tamaki stirred, still fatigued. His back felt sore from sitting on the couch for so long. Yawning, he covered his mouth. “Is dinner ready?”

“Kinda.” Mirio poked his shoulder again. “Look.”

Opening his eyes, Tamaki slowly adjusted to the dim lighting of the room. While he’d fallen asleep, it had gotten darker. It must be almost night—they’d have to sleep here, it was far too dangerous to go home now. Around him were several candles, giving the room a warm, cozy feeling. And just ahead of him was Nejire, holding a cake. A lit candle sat on it.

Tamaki sat up immediately. “Is that…?” he trailed off, afraid to utter the word. Maybe he was still dreaming.

“A cake,” Mirio finished, getting up and standing next to Nejire. “Well, kinda, we don’t really have that much flour. It’s more fruit than cake. A fruitcake,” he joked, looking ridiculously proud.

Nejire knelt in front of him, holding out the chipped plate. Now that it was closer, Tamaki could make out a jam-like substance spread out all over the cake. “What’s that?”

“Blackberry sauce.” Nejire smiled softly. “Not icing, but your spatula worked just fine with it.”

Oh. So that’s where his spatula had gone. And the berries— “Is that why you were out?”

“Yeah.” Nejire giggled. “Hey, hey, I hope the bear wasn’t making a cake too.”

Mirio knelt beside her and they sang together, “Happy birthday, Tamaki!”

Tamaki swallowed, fighting back tears. This was too much, especially on a day like this. He could barely handle the bear, and now this? Nejire laughed, reaching out to wipe his eye. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Of course I do!” he replied, grabbing her and Mirio’s hands. In all honesty, Tamaki didn’t know what he’d do without them. He was weak with them and even weaker by himself. “Next time, don’t do anything dangerous. Not for something like this.”

“Something like this is very important,” Nejire retorted, still smiling. “Even I know birthdays are special.”

“And yours is very special to us,” Mirio added, squeezing his hand. “Now blow out the candle.”

Tamaki stared at them, then at the flame. He didn’t know what to wish for, honestly. Everything he could think of was a practical matter—fixing the world, finding enough to eat, staying safe. If he had to wish for something, then…his eyes flickered to Nejire. They still didn’t know too much about her. Hell, he didn’t know her birthday. But he could change that. He would change that. They were in it for the long run and maybe it was time they started opening up to one another.

Leaning forward, he blew out the candle and silently prayed, I wish we could stay together.

#boku no hero academia #nejire hadou #inko midoriya #mirio togata #tamaki amakiji #bnha #fanfic

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innytoes · 3 years

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Self-Insert January: Let’s Go Steal A Protégé

Yes I did write a self-insert fanfic of my own fanfic. Most of this was written in December and then um, January happened. This takes place December, probably before Christmas (and is obviously not canon).

Happy Self Insert month!

Being with Leverage, Jamie had seen a lot of weird stuff. Done a lot of weird stuff, too. But all the breaking into highly classified places and museums and pretending to be a circus performer and jumping off the Eiffel Tower did not prepare them for the magic portal that opened up in the ceiling of the Leverage Offices, or the lady that fell through it.

Luckily, their startled yell had summoned an Eliot, which meant that if this was the beginning of an intergalactic space war or some kind of mutant criminal rival of Parker’s, Team Leverage was going to come out on top.

Except Eliot actually put away his knife and greeted the lady, who struggled out of the squashy purple beanbag chair she landed on. “Hardison, Parker, Inny’s here!” he called.

“What the hell is an Inny?” Jamie asked. Was it a species of alien? Was Hardison’s Doctor Who obsession because they literally knew The Doctor? Honestly, it wouldn’t really surprise Jamie.

“I the hell am an Inny,” Ceiling-Lady said, before gasping and pointing at them. Which was concerning, to say the least.

“That’s Inny,” Hardison said, coming into the office and handing the lady one of Jamie’s Mountain Dews. Rude. “She’s from a darker timeline and drops out of the ceiling once or twice a year to catch up. And get inspiration for her fanfiction. Apparently we’re like, a TV show over there. What’s up, girl?”

“Is that why nobody is allowed to move the beanbag chair?” Jamie asked. They had thought it was some weird Parker thing. Or perhaps that it was on top of some kind of secret trap door to Hardison’s BatCave or something. They ignored the part about the fanfiction and the TV show. That was too Truman Show to think about. Though their brain was already going over actors they’d cast as the team. Eliot would totally be played by Chris Evans, right?

Inny stopped chugging the Mountain Dew long enough to shrug. “They used to live somewhere with way lower ceilings. Nearly broke something falling from this one.”

“Yeah, me,” Eliot grumbled. He nearly broke something again when Parker dropped down from the ceiling onto his back. “Dammit, Parker!”

“Inny!” Parker proclaimed. “How is Deeks?”

“Good!” the lady fished a beaten up phone out of her pocket. “He met some alpacas, wanna see?” Parker snatched up the phone and made delighted noises. Jamie peered over her shoulder. They had to admit the dog was pretty cute, and the alpacas looked very intrigued by their small, same-coloured, short-necked friend.

“How’s life in the darkest timeline?” Hardison asked.

“What date is it here?” the lady asked, looking around. “I mean, if you still know.”

“Why wouldn’t we know?” Parker asked, still swiping through dog pictures.

“Well, I mean, 2020, am I right?” Inny said, waiting for a reaction. She looked incredulous at their blank faces. “It is 2020, here, right?”

“Um, yeah?” Hardison ventured carefully.

“How dark is this timeline of yours?” Jamie asked carefully. Sure, it was a tumblr joke, usually reserved for stuff like the however-many-renewed-season of Supernatural when great shows were cancelled or whatever creepy feature FriendCzar had tried to impose that month.

The woman paused, frowned, then took a deep breath. “In response to the global pandemic of a deadly respiratory virus, President Donald Trump suggested on television during a briefing that people should inject or ingest bleach to kill the virus.” She took another big breath. “And that’s not mentioning the fact that he downplayed the seriousness of the virus while knowing how deadly and contagious it was, called it a hoax, made taking safety precautions a political thing instead of a public safety thing, and held massive super-spreader events.”

“Donald Trump?” Jamie asked. “The ‘you’re fired’ dude?”

“Oh my sweet summer child,” Inny responded, before taking another swig of her Mountain Dew. “Yeah, I mean, I thought the fact that Australia was on fire at the start of the year was going to be the only terrible thing I was going to tell you.” She laughed and shook her head ruefully, like that was some kind of funny joke.

“Australia was on fire?”

“Yeah. Parts of the US too, for a while. Orange skies. But since the country was basically on lockdown anyway, it wasn’t like it was very different to stay inside for that…” Jamie stared at the lady, then back at the adults. Parker didn’t look overly concerned, but then, she never really did. Eliot and Hardison were both frowning, though. There was no sign that this was some kind of elaborate prank Hardison was pulling on them with the help of one of Sophie’s acting friends. Besides, he was good, but not ‘fake opening a magic portal in the ceiling’ good. At least not within the five minutes Jamie had been in the other room.

After a litany of horrible things, which were apparently not even all of them, the woman stopped. “On the upside,” she said. “I perfected my banana bread recipe, Deeks met some alpacas, Leverage is getting a reboot, and I figured out why I probably keep dropping in here.”

“To remind us that things aren’t so bad like some messed up version of ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’?” Hardison guessed.

“Because Jamie is my OC,” she said, dropping a fucking bombshell like she just dropped out of the fucking ceiling. Jamie felt their brain fill with static, because no, they were a real person, and that either meant that this lady was full of bullshit, or, well, basically god. The Truman Show feeling returned ten times over. “This is my fanfic.”

Hardison recoiled a little. “No,” he whispered, fully understanding the implications of that. Hell, it was probably even weirder for him. Sure, knowing they were a TV show was probably cool, even more so with the reboot. But Fanfic Land didn’t fade to black and Jamie was pretty damn sure some kinky shit went on behind the soundproofed doors of their bedroom.

“Now, there’s two prevailing theories about this, as far as my internet rabbithole searches can tell,” Basically God Maybe continued. “Either I wrote this world into existence, because the multiverse is ever expanding and that is one of the ways it expands, or I just got some vibes from whatever crack between worlds keeps bringing me here and wrote down your shenanigans.”

At Parker and Eliot’s blank looks, Jamie clarified: “Basically, she’s either God or…”

“Some kind of shitty false prophet,” the lady on the beanbag chair beamed. “Probably the second one, honestly. My subconscious turns everything into a zombie apocalypse sooner or later, and you guys seem to be fine.”

Jamie whipped around to look at Hardison and Eliot, hopeful. “We’re fine, right?” they asked quickly. If anyone knew about a starting zombie apocalypse, it would be those two. Between Hardison poking around in basically every intelligence agency’s server ever and Eliot’s contacts, they’d know. God, Jamie hoped not. They were so not ready for a zombie apocalypse. Eliot hadn’t even taught them how to murder someone with an axe yet.

“We are definitely fine,” Hardison assured them.

“Yeah, I figured,” Not-God agreed. “If I had my say, Eliot would have stopped pining long before he did and kissed you guys.” Eliot grumbled and glared, probably because she was right. Parker patted him condescendingly on the head, which wasn’t helping matters.

The ceiling started crackling and glowing ominously. The lady put her can down as she slowly drifted off the beanbag, alien-abduction style. “Well, it’s been real. Be good, guys. Have some fun adventures. Ruin some rich douchebag’s day for me.”

“Will do,” Parker promised. “Say hi to your dog for me.” She got a thumbs up.

“Let us know how the reboot turns out,” Hardison said. Jamie figured it would probably fuck with the space-time continuum if she downloaded the show and brought it to them, but who knew. Maybe there was some kind of loophole for that, too. They were kind of curious to see what a Leverage show would look like. It probably had kickass fight-scenes.

“Stay safe,” Eliot said seriously. He’d been the most concerned about the talk of the pandemic, probably because you couldn’t punch it.

“Will do,” Inny shrugged. “I mean, 2021 can’t possibly be any worse, right?”

The portal crackled louder, which Jamie hoped wasn’t a sign. The lady was almost at the ceiling. She looked concerned, like she realised she just totally jinxed herself and the new year.

“Hey, just in case you are god,” Jamie called up. “Can you give me superpowers?”

The portal closed to the sound of laughter, and then there was silence. All that remained was a dent in the beanbag and an empty can of Mountain Dew.

“What the fuck,” they told the room at large.

“Yeah, you get used to it,” Parker said, before wandering off back to the blueprints she had been studying.

“I’m just gonna… check some things,” Hardison muttered, making a detour to the kitchen to grab a ginormous bottle of orange soda before getting behind his computer. “And buy a bunch of disinfectant and toilet paper, just in case.”

Eliot rolled his eyes, before bumping his shoulder against Jamie’s. “Come on,” he said.

“Come on where?” Jamie asked. “I’m having a bit of an existential crisis here.” If they were someone’s OC, did that mean that they didn’t have free will? Did it mean that all the cool things they had done the past year had only been because of some weird lady that fell out of the ceiling? Or did it mean-

“I’m gonna teach you to throw a knife so you can take out a zombie,” Eliot said.

Fuck that, the existential crisis could wait until 2am. They had more important things to do. Knife throwing would be fun and useful no matter if there was a zombie apocalypse or a pandemic, or they got superpowers.

#fanfic #self insert month #I wrote a thing #leverage #lets go steal a protege #HardisonxParkerxEliot #I almost didn't post this because of you know the civil war thing in the US #but then I thought wouldn't it be funny if this was pre-january and self insert Inny was just like: well fuck #dear americans I'm sorry #yes Deeks did meet some alpacas it was adorable

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mysticalmusicwhispers · 4 years

Text

APH College AU: China

Oh hey look I’m doing the Asians now? Perhaps! AU intro here, highly suggested you read for context of why China is out of college.

Also, I know chefs aren’t supposed to be a waiter/see customers and cook at the same time, but too bad. He likes interacting with people personally and is good at knowing when to go back into the kitchens to make sure the food doesn’t burn.

- Owner and head chef of a small Chinese restaurant called Upside Down Luck (*any suggestions for other names are cool!*). He’s thinking about expanding pretty soon, since business is good and very consistent and a second restaurant would probably be as successful as the first. - 50% of business is college students, so he knows most of them. Most have come to his place at least once, and some, such as America, are regulars. - He's really good at memorizing faces and names, and can usually recognize people from the college. They get treated with either “Welcome back! How’s school? I heard there was a small fire in the labs!” or “You, again? *sigh* Same as last time?” - Also relating to that, he never lets students get more than two bottles of alcohol, especially late at night, and has never fell for a fake ID (partly thanks to his siblings telling him who’s a sophomore, freshman, etc). A true mom. - Knows all the school gossip also because his siblings, especially Taiwan and Japan, but South Korea also lets things slip because he forgets China doesn’t know; at dinner or something he’ll be like “Remember how ___?” And China whips around, very surprised and says “What??” with a raised eyebrow and a look that says s p i l l t h e t e a s i s - He always complains about making his food too “Americanized” (?) but honestly it’s more Authentic Chinese style than most people - DESPISES Panda Express and their orange chicken. CHN: “Why is this sweet????” HK: “Chill, that’s just American Chinese food. Anyways, it’s okay tasty.” “No.” “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

- A whiz at budgeting and bargaining; always stays on top of his finances and sometimes manages his siblings’ finances as well when he’s really pissed at them for being lazy/not responsible with their money. A lot of the restaurant’s success is due to his cunning and money managing. - When he’s cooking or frustrated or hot, his ponytail goes up into a sort of bun. He’s not too happy with how it looks on him, but it’s just more convenient that way, either because regulations/sanitary purposes or to get his neck cooler. - He gives his siblings 20-30% off on restaurant stuff most of the time, but it varies a little with mood. Most other students have been jealous at some point or another, but the other side of the deal is that they can’t call Yao “mother” or “grandma” or “grandpa” in any form. They still do it though, and then he’s like “No privileges for you!1!2!1!!” - Also, the restaurant layout is super fengshui, because Yao is superstitious as heck, but also because it’s actually useful for interior design. Like it’s all perfectly aligned, windows face north-south (to get fresh air and sunlight), the door doesn’t have clutter around it, etc. It honestly looks a bit minimalist but also traditional at the same time. During the Lunar New Year he puts up menshen (门神) on the door and couplets on the sides of it, and he always has a small Metteyya (弥勒佛) statue/idol/thingy in the back of the restaurant for money and luck. - Laughs internally at people failing at using chopsticks. (He provides knives and forks and spoons of course, but there are always the handful who keep trying chopsticks). I think he’s the type to just... casually watch you struggle in vain and won’t do anything to help. Of course, if you’re a friend, then he’ll definitely try to teach you, but he doesn’t mind having a laugh at most of his customers. I think South Korea, Hong Kong, and perhaps Vietnam (Japan, Taiwan and Macau would be too kind to laugh and chopsticks aren’t widely used in other Asian countries) would stand and watch as well, taking out their phones and recording any particularly hilarious attempts. - He doesn’t live right above the restaurant, but has an apartment 3 blocks over. It’s not small, but not too big either, so when his siblings come over it gets kinda crowded. South Korea and Hong Kong are always telling him to move out and get a larger place, but China just kinda refuses out of sentimentality. “I like this place too much to leave it!” - Wakes up at 7 AM every morning and walks around the neighborhood and sometimes goes to the college to visit India. He likes routine, and considers it a really refreshing part of his morning. - I haven’t decided a lot of the other ancient’s lives yet, but China and the others would definitely get together for chats once in a while. All of them just happened to stick around close by after college and they’d talk about work and college gossip. College gossip is provided by China and India, but they all know a bit since their siblings are still there. - He majored in business and took a whole lot of outside culinary arts classes in college, and also happened to take a bunch of other random classes just for the heck of it. So now he’s educated on things like human behavior and what people would do in a zombie apocalypse + why they react that way, garbage and sustainability, and medieval studies + folklore through Game of Thrones. He considered taking a tree climbing course but didn’t, just because he didn’t want to waste time relearning how to climb trees with ropes. - Corollary to that, he probably has the weirdest fun facts because of all this miscellaneous info he’s collected. “Did you know there’s immortal cancer cells?” “I don’t want to know, Yao.” (Above fact is true but the story of the cells is really sad (and twisted and makes me kinda angry). They’re called HeLa, after Henrietta Lacks.) - His dorm room was probably on the neater side. However, it wasn’t too meticulously organized, and sorta like a thrown together hodgepodge of themes/aesthetics. Not that pretty to look at but it did its job well for him; he never really lost things in his room. - Loved math assignments (even though he grumbled) and bs-ed English, didn’t do too well in it. I think he’d honestly be ok with a B+, and his grades would’ve ranged from 87s to As depending on subject, with possibly one C+ where he just didn’t really apply himself. But he still applies the Asian Parent Standard to his siblings (but isn’t too strict about it most times. Just when he feels they’re really consistently not doing their best when they could be aceing a class). - He loved history though, and took a lot of courses about it that he didn’t need to graduate. This is also how he met India. - I feel like Yao would have a lot of lifehacks, both for managing college work, job lifehacks and things he uses in the restaurant daily, and tricks for outdoor work ex. farm work. Like if you put him outdoors in a rural area and told him to grow crops and raise chickens, he’d totally be okay with it, and would probably be able to do it well. This is in contrast to his siblings, who are more of city (?) kids. - Of course, he’s proficient with tech stuff and office work, but isn’t as good at it as Japan or HK. - Has a 3/4 heat tolerance and a 5/10 cold tolerance. He warms up by cooking (hot stove) or drinking warm water or tea. - Proud, a bit overly critical of people and nagging. He often gets tiny bursts of anger/intense annoyance at small things, and it makes him scary sometimes. (I hc it’s like this; someone does something slightly off/wrong and he kinda has a mini explosion, but it doesn’t affect his overall mood and he’ll still be pretty cheery to you after the incident is corrected.) - Again, his anger isn’t really full blown anger, but more a bunch of small annoyed explosions. It’s rare he gets mad, but if so, it’s usually a long tirade and lecture with lots of hand motions and shouting. It’s sorta scary since he doesn’t often get like that, so it’s serious when he does. - Relationships with some of his siblings are strained a little. They’re like a sorta mismatched family with lots of squabbles and petty disagreements, especially about who can order the others around. - Honestly a people person, he could ramble on and on for days about his life. Some people find him tiring, but he’s a good mixer with strangers. Casual friends with a lot of people, especially those who appreciate sarcasm and can snark right back at him.

Thanks for reading! I didn’t want to include too much about China’s college days but ended up writing more than I intended. Also, the “random college courses” I mentioned are all real classes, obviously not from the same university, but they exist (pretty cool!!) Next up will probably be SK or HK (I have more ideas for them than some of the others). Feedback is welcome and appreciated!

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forlorn-kumquat · 4 years

Text

something stupid

“This is quite possibly the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.”

Standing in the doorway to the bookshop, an infant’s car seat dangling from one hand and a bottle of scotch in the other, Crowley shot Aziraphale a disarming grin. “Aw, c’mon, Angel. I’ve done stupider things than this.”

“Get inside before someone sees you,” Aziraphale snapped, pulling Crowley into the bookshop while looking frantically up and down the street, like he thought the forces of Heaven and Hell were going to jump out at them from the shadows. “Crowley, what were you thinking?”

“I don’t know,” Crowley admitted, with a shrug. “Maybe, ‘hey, it’d be great if the world didn’t end in a decade or so’.”

Aziraphale stared at Crowley, not sure if he’d heard him correctly. “Is that - is that the Antichrist?” he demands, aghast.

“Of course it’s the Antichrist!” Crowley looks confused, first, and then offended. “What, you thought I’d just nicked some random baby off the street?”

“I didn’t know what you’d done!” Aziraphale threw his hands up in disbelief as he stalked away from Crowley, away from the baby - Satan’s baby. “I can’t believe you stole the Antichrist,” he shot back over his shoulder as he started an impromptu reorganization of his entire shelving system. It shouldn’t take long, just a few weeks, and then maybe by then Satan’s baby would no longer be in his bookshop. “Crowley, what were you thinking?”

“You asked me that already,” Crowley pointed out, from where he’d made himself comfortable on the couch he’d summoned into the middle of the room, the rather immense piece of furniture defying several laws of physics in order to fit in and around the bookshelves. He was lounging on the couch, glass of liquor dangling from his hand, and using his foot to carefully rock the Antichrist to sleep in his carrier. “You’re repeating yourself, Angel.”

“Because your first answer was ludicrous,” Aziraphale told him. “Crowley, you can’t just stop the Apocalypse!”

“Why not?” Crowley asked, and the utter reasonableness in his tone had Aziraphale stopping in his tracks.

“Because-because-” he stammered, staring down at the book he was holding as if it might give him the words he was so desperately searching for. The pristine first-edition of Hamlet offered no revelations. “Because you can’t,” he finally insisted, re-shelving the book and grabbing another to stare at.

“Well, I did,” Crowley retorted, “so obviously I can.” He gave Aziraphale the same charming smile that had gotten them into so much trouble over the centuries. “Angel, you of all people can’t really tell me that you want the Apocalypse. That you want the Earth and all its wonders - all its people - to be destroyed.”

“But it’s the Great Plan!” Aziraphale protested.

“I’m a demon,” Crowley reminded him. “Defying the Great Plan is a pretty big part of the job description.”

“But not a part of mine.” Abandoning his reorganization as a lost cause, Aziraphale wound his way back through the bookshelves to join Crowley on the couch. “I’m not like you, Crowley. I can’t just disobey my orders whenever I want.” Summoning a tumbler into his hand, he poured himself a generous portion of Crowley’s scotch and downed it in a couple of quick swallows. “I don’t even know why you came here, tonight.”

On the other end of the couch, Crowley was suddenly, suspiciously silent. Aziraphale looked up from his glass to see Crowley facing away from him, bent over the infant carrier in order to fuss over the Antichrist. Aziraphale watched him for a few seconds, worrying at the baby’s blanket, before he reached out and smacked Crowley’s hands away.

“Stop that,” he scolded. “You want to wake him up? Heaven only knows what he’s capable of if you upset him.”

“He’s not going to wake up,” Crowley muttered, but he slouched back against the couch cushions, crossing his arms over his chest with a scowl. He still wouldn’t meet Aziraphale’s eyes.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale pressed, watching him closely, “Crowley, why did you come here tonight? This isn’t exactly part of our usual Arrangement.”

“You’re right, I should probably go,” Crowley started, half-standing as he reached for the infant carrier, but Aziraphale stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “Crowley, please, won’t you just tell me?”

Crowley was silent for several long seconds, and then finally, “I think Armageddon is a mistake.”

Aziraphale sucked in a sharp breath, half expecting a bolt of holy fire to come through the ceiling to strike Crowley down. Crowley, for his part, looked afraid but defiant.

“Armageddon is a mistake,” he repeated, louder, like he was daring God to smite him for his blasphemy. “It’s one thing to make plans to destroy the Earth when it’s brand new and there’s nothing on it, but it’s different, now. There’s people, and dolphins, and ducks - the ducks don’t deserve to have their planet wiped out. None of them do.”

“But why come here?” Aziraphale asked, for a third time. “Why come to me with this?”

Crowley jerked his shoulder in a shrug. “Be awfully hard to hide a baby from you for the next decade,” he said. “Besides, why wouldn’t I come here? You’re my best friend.”

Aziraphale blinked, genuinely taken aback by the emotion in Crowley’s voice, the casual way he admitted his feelings. Feelings that he, himself, couldn’t even think about without developing anxiety.

“Do you really think we can do it?” he asked instead, once again shoving his emotions down into some deep dark corner of himself where he wouldn’t have to think about them. “Do you think we can raise the Antichrist so he won’t want to destroy the world?”

“Only one way to find out,” Crowley responded.

“And how do we know we’ll be able to do this?” Aziraphale asked, warming to his topic. “Crowley, do you even know anything about raising a baby?”

“Well, no,” Crowley admitted. “But, look at him, Angel! He’s so tiny compared to regular humans. How hard could this possibly be?”

----------

Later, both Crowley and Aziraphale would come to regret that comment. Deeply, deeply regret it. But for now, they barely had the time to rest, let alone regret.

They’d named the baby Adam (”We have to call him something, Angel, and he’s the first of his kind, too”) and set up a room for him in Crowley’s flat. They’d gone shopping for baby supplies - the human way, at Aziraphale’s insistence.

“If we’re going to raise him as a human,” Aziraphale had said, firmly, “then we need to do things the human way. That means no summoning things whenever we need them.”

Not that Crowley had minded going shopping with Aziraphale; it had actually been fun, wandering around the shops and watching Aziraphale cuddle Adam. He hadn’t even minded standing in the impossibly long lines while the understaffed shop tried to cope with only one open register (a little demonic invention he was particularly proud of). And he’d convinced Aziraphale to let him use a small miracle to send the packages back to the flat ahead of them, since it would have been even more suspicious for people to see them loading everything into a car clearly not meant to hold that much stuff.

They’d gone back to Crowley’s flat, and gotten all of Adam’s new things set up: crib, changing table, rocking chair, and an amount of stuffed animals that might charitably been called excessive. There’d been other things too, diapers, and wash cloths, and every little thing the shop assistants had insisted was absolutely essential to raising a newborn baby. So many things that they began spilling out of Adam’s designated room and rapidly encroaching on the rest of Crowley’s space. It was a problem that he could have solved easily with a miracle or two - if he hadn’t promised Aziraphale.

“Who knew babies needed so much space?” Aziraphale asked, wonderingly, staring in stunned shock at the veritable mountain of baby things filling the room and beyond. “You know, I don’t remember it looking like this much stuff when we were in the shop.”

“The shop’s bigger,” Crowley told him. “Makes everything look smaller by comparison.”

“Well, we can’t move Adam into the bookshop with me,” Aziraphale told him. “I’ve got even less space there than you do.” Shaking his head in disbelief, he wondered out loud, “How do humans do this over and over again?”

“Usually by finding a different place to live,” Crowley said, without thinking about it.

Aziraphale’s eyes positively lit up with glee. “Crowley, that’s it!” he said, excitedly.

“You want me to find a new place to live?” Crowley asked.

“Well, not just you,” Aziraphale replied.

Crowley felt like he was missing something. “Well, who else-” He trailed off at the beaming smile on Aziraphale’s face, the barely-restrained eagerness. “Oh, no. We can’t, Angel. We’ve spent the last six thousand years going to great lengths to hide our Arrangement from both our sides, and now you want to throw all that hard work out the window by moving in together?”

“How else am I going to help you raise Adam?” Aziraphale pointed out. “This will all go much smoother if we’re both living in the same place.”

“What about discretion?” Crowley argued. “What about being careful and not getting caught?”

“We’ll still be careful,” Aziraphale hastened to assure him. “Just as we’ve always been. But I really do think this will be what’s best for Adam. Our best chance at raising him to be a normal boy with no aspirations of destroying the Earth.”

Crowley heaved a sigh, knowing when he’d been defeated. “I suppose you have some kind of idea of where we should live, too?” he asked.

“As a matter of fact,” Aziraphale told him, “I have always wanted to live by the sea.”

----------

They settled on a cottage at the seaside. Well, the realtor called it a cottage; Crowley, personally, had seen smaller castles. But, it had more than enough space for their little Antichrist to flourish, and that was all that mattered.

Four spacious bedrooms, a library big enough to house all of Aziraphale’s books and then some, a garden in the back for Adam to run around in when he was older - the house had everything they were looking for. It even had an overgrown garden that Crowley couldn’t wait to get his hands on.

It was perfect.

----------

Despite the impression he gave off, Crowley really did love his plants. He loved the quiet, meditative feeling in the early morning when he goes through his greenhouse and the gardens, tending to his plants. He loved the little thrill of pride every time someone complimented his gardens. He especially loveed yelling at his plants and watching them tremble in fear (and Aziraphale could just stop with his talk of “unhealthy coping mechanisms” and “indicative of old traumas” all right, because that’s not what he’s doing, Aziraphale was wrong, completely wrong, and which one of them influenced Freud, again?). Point being, Crowley really did love his plants.

Crowley does not love grass.

He’d never been responsible for a lawn full of grass before moving with Aziraphale to their house in the South Downs. There wasn’t a lot of grass running around Soho, after all, outside of St. James Park, and it had always been lushly green and vibrant with life whenever he was there. And he’d assumed, upon seeing the stretch of yellowish-green grass out front, that taking care of this lawn would be just like the rest of his plants.

The realtor had apologized for the unkempt state of the lawn, muttering something about the previous owners, but had quickly reassured them that all it needed was a little TLC to restore it to its former glory. And Crowley had just as quickly reassured her that he would have the lawn looking better than ever before.

He had been wrong. So very wrong.

Grass, he discovered, wasn’t like the plants he was used to dealing with. His plants were young, malleable, easily intimidated. Grass was old and immune to his demonic charms. Grass weathered the changing seasons to come back every spring, survived fire and flood alike, laid down deep, complex roots that weren’t about to give quarter to anyone. Grass had been there long before humans had ever existed, and would be there long after they ceased to be even a blip on the planet.

Grass, quite frankly, did not give two shits about Crowley or his thoughts on how it should be.

Crowley would have been impressed - if he hadn’t been busy declaring all-out war on his new nemesis.

----------

Crowley’s other nemesis was named Karen.

Karen was the head of the village association. Karen’s main responsibility was ensuring that everyone who lived in the village abided by the rules the association laid down. Karen’s main stickler was the state of people’s lawns. Therefore, Karen did not like Crowley.

Crowley could have lived with dislike. In fact, he would have thrived from it. But Karen didn’t just stop at dislike. Karen leveraged every bit of power she had in the village association to levy sanctions and fines against him for the state of his lawn. She insulted his gardening ability. And worst of all, she’d made Aziraphale unhappy. And that could not stand.

In a way, Crowley figured, he’d brought this on himself. One of his few acts in America had been the creation of homeowner associations, organizations that existed supposedly to help the people who lived in their communities, but instead served to make everyone miserable. He’d even earned a commendation for it. But he’d never foreseen people in England deciding to adopt the idea to torture themselves - and by extension, him.

So he’d tried, at first, to be patient when Karen had knocked on their door and informed him that his yard was not up to association standards. He’d politely replied that they’d just moved in and he was sure he’d have the yard back in shape in no time. He’d also assumed that would be the end of their interactions.

As with too many things recently, Crowley was wrong about this.

Karen became a near-constant presence in his life, stopping by the cottage almost every day to tut sadly about the lawn that refused to turn green, no matter what Crowley tried. She’d purse her lips, giving Crowley a Look that suggested that she regarded him as little more than a disobedient child. She’d stare down at the yellowing grass for several long, silent minutes, like she expected it to bloom into life under her watchful gaze. And then she’d heave a deep sigh, fix Crowley with yet another Look, and remind him in her polite, icy tone that he’d incurred yet another fine for the month, and was facing another next month if he didn’t get his situation under control.

Despite his hatred, Crowley was grudgingly impressed. She’d have made a fine demon.

----------

Luckily, the rest of their neighbors were much more reasonable. About half a dozen of them had young children and were more than happy to lend their expertise when it came to raising babies. They even had a weekly parents’ group that Aziraphale was more than happy to join - and host monthly in their house while somehow forgetting to tell Crowley each and every time. But he looked so happy that Crowley couldn’t even pretend to be angry.

“It’s so good of you to take in your nephew,” one of the mothers - Crowley thought her name was Martha - said, cooing down at Adam in his arms with a sappy smile on her face. “You and Ezra, coming together to raise an orphaned baby - it’s so romantic!”

Crowley choked, feeling his face burn. “I-I don’t know if I’d put it that way,” he stammered. No matter how much he might want to.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about anyone around here giving you grief about it, sweetheart,” Martha said, conspiratorially, patting Crowley on the arm. “Besides, you two aren’t fooling anyone.”

“We aren’t?” Crowley asked, weakly.

Martha just smiled at him again before wandering away to talk to Aziraphale on the other side of the room, leaving Crowley staring down at Adam in stunned shock. The baby blinked up at him.

“We’re fooling everyone, aren’t we?” Crowley asked.

The baby had no answer.

----------

After seeing the last of their neighbors out the door, Aziraphale shut the door with a happy sigh, turning around to regard the empty room behind him. The too-empty room, come to think of it. Where were Crowley and Adam?

Poking around the house, he finally found them in the one place that, once he thought about it, should have been the first place he looked: Crowley’s beloved glass-walled greenhouse. Crowley was stretched out on the battered leather sofa in the center of the room, sound asleep, Adam lying on his chest. Aziraphale had to bite back a smile at the sight of the two of them.

“Crowley,” he said, instead, reaching out to jostle Crowley’s shoulder. “Crowley, everyone’s gone.”

Crowley blinked sleepily up at him, one had curling around Adam as he slowly sat up. “Angel?”

“Everyone’s gone,” Aziraphale repeated. “You can come out of hiding, now.”

“Wasn’t hiding,” Crowley protested, his cheeks tinged faintly pink. “Just spending some one-on-one time with the munchkin, here.”

Now fully awake, Adam babbled a string of nonsense, curling his fingers tightly around Crowley’s shirt. Crowley smiled down at the baby, bouncing him in his arms and making him giggle.

“Not to belabor the obvious,” Aziraphale pointed out, “but the whole point of hosting the parents’ group over here is for Adam to get to spend some time with other children.”

“You’ll have more parents’ groups,” Crowley told him. “And Adam will have plenty of time to play with the other children when I’m gone.”

“When you’re gone?” Aziraphale echoed, feeling suddenly very confused. “Crowley, are you planning on going somewhere?”

Crowley grimaced, looking uncomfortable. “Hell got a hold of me a couple hours ago,” he said. “They’re sending me on a job; I leave in the morning. Don’t know how long I’ll be gone. Could be a few days, could be a few months.”

Aziraphale stared at him in shock. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.

“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” Crowley dragged a hand through his hair, shoulders slumping slightly. “Besides, you looked like you were having fun talking to Martha and that other one. I didn’t want to ruin your afternoon when there was nothing you could do about it.”

“But I-” Aziraphale broke off, unable to put what he was really feeling into words. He was hurt, and a little angry, and more than a little scared at the thought of whatever Hell had planned for Crowley, once he was somewhere Aziraphale couldn’t protect him. “What about Adam?” he tried, changing tacks. “We’re supposed to be taking care of him, together.”

“We’re also supposed to be keeping him off Heaven and Hell’s radars,” Crowley pointed out, “which means that if Hell tells me to jump, I can’t very well say no. Can’t risk them getting suspicious; not now.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Aziraphale conceded, reluctantly. “Just, promise me you’ll be careful.”

“Which one of us got locked in the Bastille for a bite to eat, again?” Crowley asked, teasingly. “I promise, Angel, I’ll be careful.”

----------

Aziraphale would never - never - ask Crowley to be less careful, to risk himself while he was on a job for Hell. But over six months without a word? Without anything to let them know that he was still okay while he was working for Hell, that he was safe and unharmed?

Aziraphale would have given a great many things for simply a reassuring whisper.

But as worried as he was, he tried his best to not let Adam pick up on what he was really feeling. The boy grew stronger every day, and not just physically. He hadn’t yet shown any overt displays of his powers, but he was so sensitive to Aziraphale’s thoughts and emotions that there was no doubt that he was at least strongly attuned to the occult. And the last thing Aziraphale wanted was to inadvertently upset Adam with his worries and fears.

So he smiled, and he laughed, and he tried to keep things going as normally as possible for Adam’s sake. He couldn’t let himself do anything else.

He’d spun a tale to his parents’ group about Crowley being unexpectedly being called away on business - although he was careful to stay vague on just what that business actually was. He was sure that more than a couple of their neighbors now thought that Crowley was into something shady and illegal, as a result, but better than raising suspicions by forgetting exactly which story he’d been telling them.

But whatever they might have thought, none of his neighbors had shown the slightest hesitation in showing up day after day to check in on him and Adam, to give them comfort and company and make sure they were never alone for very long. It was exactly the very best kind of humanity that Aziraphale had wanted Adam to experience and be influenced by.

They were alone tonight though, just him and Adam and his wayward thoughts. Adam had been restless all day long, refusing to eat or sleep, just all around fussy and upset. Aziraphale couldn’t really blame him. He wanted to give into his fears, let himself get fussy and upset, too.

But he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t do anything other than pace the length of the greenhouse while Adam cried in his arms, hoping that Crowley had imbued enough of himself into his plants for Adam to sense and be soothed by.

“Dada, dada, dada…” The litany of Adam’s newest word, sobbed into Aziraphale’s shoulder, broke his heart. Dada was reserved almost exclusively for the picture of Crowley that Aziraphale showed him, and Aziraphale acted to be able to give Adam what he wanted.

“I know, sweetheart,” he soothed, as he turned on his heel to make yet another circuit of the room, “I want your dada to come home, too.”

Then, he stopped and stared at the doorway, and at Crowley leaning against the door jamb, a tired smile on his face.

“Why, Angel,” Crowley quipped, “I didn’t know you cared so much.”

“Crowley, you’re home.” Aziraphale was so relieved, he couldn’t even be slightly irritated at Crowley teasing him. “Are you all right?” he demanded, anxiously.

“More or less,” Crowley told him.

Crossing the distance between them, he held his arms out to Adam, scooping him up and promptly holding him close as Adam snuggled happily against his chest. Then, he surprised Aziraphale by freeing an arm and wrapping it around Aziraphale’s shoulders, pulling him into a loose hug.

“Crowley, what-”

“I know this isn’t what we usually do,” Crowley interrupted him, voice muffled from where he had his head pressed against the crook of Aziraphale’s neck, “but I just - I need this right now.”

“Of course,” Aziraphale said, wrapping his arms around Crowley in response. He could feel tremors running through Crowley’s lanky frame, and he rubbed his hand up and down Crowley’s back to try and comfort him. “You can have whatever you need,” he assured him.

“Just this,” Crowley said, still holding on tightly. “Just need to know that you and Adam are safe.”

They held each other for a few minutes more, only parting reluctantly when Adam started fussing again.

“He’s probably tired,” Aziraphale told Crowley. “I’m afraid neither of us has been getting much sleep, lately. And it is rather late,” he added, glancing down at his watch to see it was already after midnight.

“It’s not just late,” Crowley said, after a moment. “It’s officially Adam’s first birthday.”

“Is it?” Aziraphale checked his watch again, surprised to see the date he hadn’t really registered until now. “Well, how about that?”

“We did it, Angel,” Crowley told him, as they carried Adam down the hall to put him to bed. “We made it through the first year.”

“Only ten more to go,” Aziraphale reminded him. “If only they’re all like this one.”

“I think we’ll be okay, Angel,” Crowley told him. “The three of us, I think we’ll be okay.”

(And they were.)

#Crowley #Aziraphale #Good Omens #kumquat writes

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flamebearrel · 4 years

Text

What Puts the “Fun” in “Fun Dead”? Chapter Seven

Fandom: Eddsworld

Synopsis: What started out with a simple shopping trip on a snow day ends up with the latest zombie apocalypse. Unfortunately, Mark doesn’t realize until he’s right in the middle of it. Oh, well. Looks like no one else has noticed, either. He’ll just have to give them a few reminders.

Word Count: 980

Original Post Date: Early 2018

Characters: Mark, Fun Dead Kid (here named Charlie) (Minor unnamed characters that are intended to be Patryck, Paul and Yanov)

Ships: None

Trigger Warnings: Grief, Arguments, Zombies, Fighting, Guns, Blood, Biting (Will be added to a bit in later chapters)

Other Notes: Based off the events of the episodes “The Snogre” and “Fun Dead”; intended to take place within canon; discusses meta concepts; the neighbors and the main three are friendlier with each other now; each chapter has a picture to go along with it; headcanon names

Ao3 Link

Previous Chapter

Final Chapter

~~~

He didn’t know how long he was in there. In fact, Mark didn’t know how he got there at all. The only thing he knew was that he had somehow wormed his way into an unoccupied storage room, gotten down on the floor and was now lying in a puddle of his own utter grief.

All his anguish had drained away a while ago, leaving him with nothing but a melancholy acceptance of the truth. Apparently all his efforts weren’t enough. Now the last people he cared about were gone.

That was it. Mark stood up and limped toward the exit, thinking, Might as well stick my head into a zombie’s mouth and tell him, “Bon appétit.”

But before he could even reach the door's handle a voice sounded just outside. “Hey, Mister Marcus? That you in there?”

“Charlie?” Mark opened the door just enough to peep out. “How did you find me?”

“I could hear your sobbing loud and clear, sir.”

Face flushing a little, the blond allowed his young friend inside. Charlie continued, “Did you find your friends yet? I think I know a way out.”

Curiosity peaked in him for a moment, but Mark quickly lost it with the reminder of his neighbors. “No, I think-... I think you should go on without me,” he muttered.

“And why would I do that?”

“I... don’t really see a point, not anymore. They’re- they’re gone.”

Hesitation. Then Charlie responded, “I know it feels bad, but that can’t stop you. Stay in the present. You can still stay alive.”

Mark stared at him.

With an awkward cough, the young brunette questioned, “Why’re you giving me that look?”

“You really don’t get it, do you?” He turned abruptly, a sarcastic laugh filling his throat. “Saying all that? Trying to make me just shrug it off like losing the only people I know isn’t a big deal?”

“N-no, I-”

“That is not how it works, Charles! You can’t just- just expect me to be alright about this-”

“And YOU can’t just say that I don’t know how it feels! YOU don’t know about what happened in that arcade!”

The turtlenecked man stopped, slowly turning to face the younger boy. “What happened in-”

“My mom...”

“...Oh.”

There was silence, before Mark ventured, “I’m so sorry.”

Charlie looked away. “Nevermind. I just don’t... Do you want to come, or not?”

“...Okay.” With a slow nod, Mark grabbed his bags and his bat and followed Charlie out the door.

Immediately several zombies staggered towards them. Charlie shot them with perfect precision and Mark followed, swinging his bat to clear the remains. The two dashed into a clearing.

In swarms the mobs came, intent on reaching their prey. Mark could feel his heart pounding as he gripped his weapon. “Charlie,” he shouted, “wh- what’s your plan?”

“You know that dead guy from the arcade?” The brunette gunned down two more zombies and kicked the one behind him in the stomach.

“Yeah?”

“Well I’ve seen other people around in the same uniform. And that symbol on those uniforms? They’re from the Red Army.”

Mark went in for a full swing towards several more of the mobs. “The… what? I don’t believe I’ve heard of them.”

“The Red Army. My, uh, my dad works there.” More gunshots, more bat swings, more zombies felled. The two of them ran past a kids’ ride. “And from what I’ve seen, they’re probably gonna come back and scout for survivors.”

“So you’re saying… they could help us?”

“Yeah! All we need is-”

“To get them to notice us! Would getting some of those uniforms possibly do the trick?”

Charlie grinned. “Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

They immediately made way for the arcade. Once they got inside, the two young men stripped the bloodied cloak away from its owner Mark had seen before. There was another one, too, one with especially bold eyebrows that didn’t seem to care much when they stole his cloak and took off with it.

Buttoning one of the coats on himself, Mark quietly peered out the door. His smaller friend soon followed him.

“The rollercoasters,” the blond mouthed, “need to get somewhere they can see us…”

And to the rollercoasters they went. Charlie fired with perfect precision at the zombies as they weaved through the lines.

One mob, missing most of its nose, lurched toward them. It was killed with a swift shot to the head, but not before Charlie noticed his remaining ammo. “We’ve gotta hurry, Mark! Only got a few shots left-”

“That doesn’t matter now! I can hear the helicopter!”

Finally they stumbled the rollercoaster’s loading dock. It was to their luck for once that the chopper was just flying over. “HEY,” the two screamed, frantically waving their hands.

The chopper stopped, hovering in midair, until a man with slick black hair was lowered down on a ladder. “Wait a second,” he muttered as he neared, “I don’t recognize you two-”

“Just let us on!” Mark dropped his bat and rushed over, Charlie in hot pursuit. “If we have to join your army, so be it, just let. Us. On.”

Slowly the raven-haired man nodded, stepping to the side and helping Charlie on. Mark was about to follow when something in the back of his mind urged him to stop.

He was leaving his friends behind. For good. Without anything but a few moments of grievance. Would they want him to do that?

Of course they would, right?

It didn’t matter anyways, because he suddenly felt a sharp pain explode from his upper arm. Mark turned around, hope draining from him like blood from a fresh wound.

And sure enough, a zombie was hanging off his arm.

They were suddenly everywhere, piling on him for their feast, and he barely heard Charlie’s scream before he fell and everything faded to an inky, lifeless black.

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w-re-writes · 5 years

Text

Fictober - Day 17 - “an honest muttonhead”

Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1867

Rating: General Audiences

Prompt: “There is just something about them/her/him.”

Unbeknownst to him, Cleos is the third wheel in a ridiculous road trip. His wife helps him through it.

(read on ao3)

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

Cleos Frey had never been a saint, but he was sure he did not deserve this punishment.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" His cousin, Jaime, said from the back seat. "Of course the Warrior would beat the Maid. It's right there in the name."

The gigantic woman in the passenger's seat exhaled with resignation. Brienne Tarth, she was called. Another employer of Catelyn Stark's. Reliable, strong. She’d been his manager for the past months, and Cleos liked her. Not the least because she’d also done an enviable job of ignoring Jaime’s constant japes. At least, until he managed to get under her skin.

"You're bypassing the fact," Brienne explained in a tired tone, "that the Warrior cannot harm the Maid. She's an innocent. But if she asked him to fight for a just cause, he could even get killed. She’d win any fight between them."

"But the Warrior cannot die!"

"But that’s not the point!"

Mother have mercy.

Cleos hadn't seen Brienne upset by anything until Jaime arrived to the Tully headquarters to oversee their negotiations with Tywin Lannister. Purchasing company branches was a merciless bloodbath, and Jaime had been sent to do what he did best—to rail people up until they yielded.

Jeyne help , Cleos texted his wife as soon as he got signal. They were waiting for Jaime to return from taking a leak in the woods. He’d insisted, despite the pouring rain.

What is it?

I’m this close to put myself in front of the car. Miss u.

Miss u too. It's Jaime, just tell embarrassing stories re him as a kid. Thats how genna shuts him up

Cleos glanced up at Brienne, who was also frowning and tapping on her phone.

Its nit just him , he typed back.

The girl too?

They nvr stop fighting

Rlly?

Its exhausting. Like Ty and Will

At that moment, Jaime closed the door with a self satisfied smile.

"All good, coz," he said ruefully, shaking his umbrella in an obnoxious way. "Let's go."

Cleos glanced at Brienne, who nodded her approval, and he started the engine.

-------

This whole excuse of a road trip had been Jaime's idea. Cleos had said it was a ridiculous notion, with the weather they’d last the Seven knew how long. But Jaime had argued back. Flights had been canceled due to the storm, but by car it'd only be 7 hours to King’s Landing. "Shorter than waiting for the storm to blow over," Jaime had smiled. "We all win."

Yeah, right . Cleos had begun to wonder if he was trapped within one of the gods’ big jokes.

"Everyone knows that a blade blunts after hitting bone," Brienne was saying, raising her voice over the rain outside. "So a sword is not a good weapon during a zombie apocalypse."

"But the aesthetic," Jaime shook his fists at her, faking emotion. "What else do you have during the zombie apocalypse but aesthetics?"

He makes her laugh tho , Cleos texted Jeyne later, when they stopped at a petrol station in the middle of nowhere. They were all slightly damp, but for some reason Jaime managed to make it look classy. Brienne and him just looked annoyed.

Thats good?

Yeah, shes young but very serious, tries to hide it

That she's serious?

That she laughs

Brienne returned to the car from her expedition into the management store. "The road is closed," she announced, squaring her shoulders and handing Jaime and Cleos an apple juice box each. "But the man said they're cleaning it up and it should be done by tomorrow."

"There's no way around it?" Cleos asked. Of course the gods would make it harder for him. Of course.

Brienne shook her head.

"It'd take us three hours to get to the other road," Jaime chimed in, slurping his apple juice. "Not worth it."

"Then another five hours to circle back to King's Landing," Brienne agreed, not reluctantly. "Can you stop that?"

Jaime gulped his drink with added noise. Brienne rolled her eyes before turning to Cleos.

"The man said there's an inn further down. We should stop there for the night."

Cleos felt his face wrinkle in pain.

"Slumber party" Jaime finished his juice, looking straight at Brienne. "Yay."

-------

Cleos u old fool , Jeyne had texted, adding two laughing emojis. Cleos frowned.

We r eating smtng n staying at an inn, call u soon , he sent her. Then he quoted her last message: Why?

"Coz, the Boss says they only got one room," Jaime's hand patted his shoulder. "We'll all have to share."

"The boss?" Cleos deepened his frown.

"Two beds, though," Brienne walked past them, carrying most of their bags on one hand. "And if you keep calling me Boss I’m going to expect you to shut up and do as I say, Lannister."

"Am I not doing that already?" he teased her, watching her stomp upstairs with determination. He gave a short laugh, picked what was left of their luggage, and trailed after her. Cleos checked his phone and followed, wondering just how insufferable dinner would be.

"No no no no no," Brienne was shaking her hands. "Under no circumstances would the Blue Knight lose to the Golden Knight. There’s a story about it."

“But only the one story,” Jaime insisted, nudging Cleos with an elbow as he cut his meal.

The inn was packed, and they’d been cramped into a corner. Cleos was not a short man, but he was sandwiched between the biggest woman he’d ever met and his cousin's inflated personality in the tiniest, primpiest table in the seven kingdoms. The tablecloth even had lace, which he knew because he had been inspecting everything in his immediate surroundings while his companions spoke nonstop.

"Are you saying it’s not canonical?"

"“I’m saying there’s a chance they never actually fought."

Cleos tried to remember when his remark about the decorative armour in the parlor had turned into a discussion about the age of heroes, or whatever this was. His mum used to tell him and his cousins stories about knights and dragons, and Brienne had been delighted when he'd told her. She loved all of that stuff. As for Jaime… Cleos hadn’t even known Jaime still cared about the stories.

-------

Is she touching her hair? Jeyne’s reply chimed in his phone.

Cleos stopped the fork halfway to his mouth and glanced at his left. Brienne was talking about a historical TV show, tugging her hair behind her ears at least twice in the process.

Yes. What does that have to do w anythng? He texted back.

Is he listening to her? That message had a laughing-with-tears emoji.

Cleos looked to his right. Jaime had cupped his cheek on one hand, following her every word.

His brow furrowed so fast in realization he felt a muscle tear.

Can't be, he sent. It didn’t feel adamant enough. Impossible , he added.

-------

Cleos had been at some office events where both Brienne and Jaime had attended, and he never thought… Surely Jeyne was wrong.

Brienne had sighed in relief when she had told him they’d reached an agreement. They were about to sign the contracts with Uncle Tywin, which was why they’d been traveling to King’s Landing in the first place. Jaime had been unfazed by the result, as usual, even though him and Brienne had written the final document.

Then again…

Cleos looked at Jeyne’s stream of emojis making fun of him (including some suggestive combinations of hand gestures and eggplants), and then again at his manager and cousin.

They were radiant.

-------

Like everything else in that godsforsaken inn, the room was small and cozy, with lace decorating every textile in view.

Cleos sat on the edge of one of the beds, while Brienne threw herself in the other. Jaime was opening cabinets and doors, like a cat inspecting a new room.

Their not flirting , Cleos texted Jeyne, one handed, opening a couple of buttons on his shirt.

Sounds like it to me

"Hey," Jaime produced a box from one of the shelves. "Kingdompoly! What say you, coz? Shall we play, for old time’s sake?"

Cleos huffed. "Will loves it," he said. "So that means we’ve had to ban it from the house. I pass."

Jaime laughed. "Very well. And you, Boss? Fancy a play?"

"What are you, ten?" Brienne was decidedly not looking up at Jaime, intent only on her book, the edge of her mouth curling up just so. "Only if you’re prepared to lose."

"Ah, a challenge. You boast."

"Of course. My sisters hated me because I won all the time."

"That's because you weren’t playing me."

-------

Are u still up?

Cleos had grabbed the spare key and beseeched the safety of the lobby. The rain was still pounding, but the waiting area was quiet in comparison to the tourney-worth of cackles the two blonds had been making.

The phone rang at the tune of the Rains of Castamere and Cleos picked up gratefully.

"Hi, husband mine." Jeyne's grin was palpable in her voice. "How’re the lovebirds?"

"Fighting," Cleos chuckled. "Over Kingdompoly."

“Kingdompoly?"

"See what I do for our sons?"

Jeyne laughed. "I know. They miss you."

"And me them."

"But are you sure? I was rather hoping I had something to tease your mum with. Her favorite nephew, flirting with a Stark. Can you imagine?"

"I just told you. It's not flirting. They fight. And she's not a Stark, exactly."

"Is it fighting or is it bantering?"

Cleos mentally ran through months of constant teasing, chattering, endless nights of working together, heads bent into one single purpose.

"It’s not flirting," he insisted, stubborn as ever.

That made his wife laugh. It was warm.

"Well," Jeyne continued. "Come home as soon as you can and I'll show you proper flirting, then."

Gods, he missed her.

-------

Cleos walked into their room an hour after. He'd assumed Jaime and him would share a bed, so his surprise was genuine when he discovered two large bulks in Brienne's.

Tip toeing his way through the carpet, Cleos peeked over the pink dossel. Kingdompoly was sprawled out on the mattress in disarray, Brienne asleep against the headboard, and Jaime tucked against her leg, his curls resting on her thigh.

Cleos bit his lip.

His first instinct was to wake Jaime up, a million arguments about impropriety crossing his mind. But they both looked strangely peaceful. And gratefully quiet.

Look what I found , Cleos typed to Jeyne.

It was a bit clumsy, but he managed to angle the camera, adjust the flash, and snap the picture.

Jeyne sent back a billion head-exploding emojis.

I told u!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She didn't have to seem so smug, but Cleos didn’t mind too much.

I got u something to bother mum with , he replied, sliding into his own bed.

My hero ! She said, with a heart emoji.

Cleos chuckled for himself, and peppered his text lingo with a smiley face for his wife.

Sinking into the pillow, Cleos glanced at his travel companions one last time. They breathed slowly in absolute comfort, holding each other in the bed. Maybe Jeyne wasn't so far off, after all. There is just something about them.

With a knowing grin, Cleos drifted into sleep.

#fictober19 #fictober2019 #jaime x brienne #my fic #cleos pov because why not #third wheeling like a pro #i wish this was better but it's done so #there u go

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amwritingmeta · 5 years

Text

S14 Finale: First Impressions

I got my grubby hands on the ep yesterday and watched it super late when everyone else had gone to bed and I was like clutching my face and stifling giggles of joy and just breathing OH MY FUCKING GOD (I shall never be able to actually use that expression again in the same manner but I did while watching oh YES) at the screen. :P

All I really want to put here is a screaming ghost face emoji and then a dancing lady in a red dress and then a crying his eyes out smiley and then idk like just all the expletives?

Yeah?

Because ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm HOLY FUCKING FUCK, BATMAN!

So happy. Ecstatic might even be the word!!

First impression —> Good.

So damn amazed at what they can communicate through a character performing one wordless action. Or an action attached to just one word. It’s... beautiful!!

And did we get a twist or what?? Our deus ex machina comes in and fucks shit up! I don’t think anyone saw him coming in to fix anything, right? But to have him come to subvert the very definition of a deus ex machina?? Aaaahhhhhhhh I CANNOT EVEN BELIEVE DABB!! BRILLIANT!!

Jack. JACK. What can’t I say about our boy? How delighted am I not at how he handled himself this episode and might I scream about his ending up in the Empty? I may have enjoyed the idea of him heading off to Heaven with Cas, but that may still happen. Jack in the Empty is such fucking wish fulfilment though, that I can’t even begin.

And BILLIE IS THERE!!!

And they need to talk!!

Shall we all just jump on the supportive bandwagon of Jack as our New God (as per rectifying the Godstiel arc and, by extension of Cas’ faith in him, stepping in to fucking help fix Cas’ earlier mistakes?? JAYSUS PLEASE ALL THAT IS GOOD!!) Seriously, Jack gaining control of his powers and helping Billie reap God and taking his rightful place leading Heaven and bringing balance between Heaven, Earth and Hell... My heart can barely cope. *teary eyed*

Obviously with his father figures (yes Sam and Dean are still good father figures) (they just went a little wayward there for a moment) possibly probably teaching and guiding him.

Oh my God, Dean not firing that gun! I was so relieved. Serious fists-to-mouthage going on at that moment like omg omg please Dean, please. And when he uncocked it and THREW IT ON THE GROUND?? *squeaks*

And, hey, God did hand-deliver the weapon to kill Jack and it was left in Dean’s own hands to make the choice whether to shoot it or not, but oh man! The fact that killing the representative of his inner child combined with that swallowed up toxic masculinity and everything this represents meaning Dean literally fucking killing himself was just... That was just... I can’t. *big wobbly* *so gorgeous*

And I just did not expect that they’d turn God - pardon, I mean Chuck - into the Big Bad. It’s EPIC.

Jeez, here I was thinking of Chuck as the good guy just trying his best. The epitome of the parental figure that has learned to let go and take a step back. The dad who might’ve created in his image in order to be worshipped, but who then went on to create humanity and realising his mistake the first time around (with the angels) imbuing them (us) with free will. With choice. Because his angels’ worship and loyalty were manufactured. And he wanted to be loved. Truly loved.

Bah. Humbug.

It’s fantastic!! Because of course there was always the controlling side to God. The God that locked his sister away. That betrayed her. The dark side to him, that’s all about being obeyed, and doing whatever he wants because he can... And how he represents lying, manipulation, control. The stuff that needs to be rooted out. Yessss. *fingers crossed* (I cannot believe Chuck is our Big Bad!!) (he’s our BIG BAD for the final season!!) *gah!*

Anyway. I don’t think Chuck was actually built, in the narrative, to be this. This is Dabb’s twist. But it’s fucking perfect and I love it. And ROB!!! YAAASSSS! More of Rob next season. *adoration falls on the floor omgl* *no not oh my good lord* *ombl* *oh my bad lord* :P

Also. Is Chuck bad? Or is he still writing his story? You know? I mean, total Big Bad vibe for good reasons, but... he’s a liar, after all. What exactly is the lie and what’s the truth? :P

Sam. SAM. Telling Dean off, and then speaking to God and seeing through his BULLSHIT and getting in a car and driving to stop Dean. *shivers of pleasure* More of this next season. Come on, Sam. You know you’re such a strong, smart leader. You know who you are!! You just have to let him out.

Man! I hope all this happens sooner than later.

Cas.

I have no words. I have NO WORDS!! When he turned and walked out of that room after Dean had challenged him with how God had just told them what had to be done and if it didn’t suit Cas then he could just go. OMFG OMFG HE LEFT. He just gave Dean that Look - and left to go find his son. *sobs*

Also, that shoulder bump between Cas and Dean earlier. I am really, really intrigued by how Dean and Cas’ relationship will start off next season and how the writers will explore it. But this. This distance. CAS STANDING BETWEEN JACK AND DEAN!! Potentially hugely important. Amazing. Fantastic. And good lord does it bode well for his individual arc.

Where that arc is headed? I feel he’s still emotionally linked to Heaven, and for good reason. His bad choices has absolutely devastated his home. It’s completely understandable that he’s not just going to shrug his shoulders and go, well, my home’s on Earth now. So the salvation, to me, lies in Jack. I mean. The setup is formidable, if this is where they’re headed. It’s beautiful. And emotional. And fitting. Because through his entire journey, Cas has learned the lessons needed to have actual faith in Jack, even when no one else did, and through this faith, Jack might turn out to be the one being that can restore Heaven to its former glory. And fix what Cas broke.

Oh, it would be... so satisfactory. It really would. The bringer of balance. The representative of Heaven, Humanity and Hell. Sitting on the throne of Heaven while keeping Hell in check. Leaving Earth to its dealings. The way it was done before S4 and the breaking of the first seal and the rising of Lucifer, which was all brought on by... God himself. Yeah. I mean. To close this narrative this way would be... Mh. Goodness.

Seriously, this is a rambling mess of first impressions, but oh, those first impressions were so good. I’m so excited. This finale was absolutely fantasmical and next season They Go Big. *no kidding*

I’m so happy they got to stay together. THEY KEPT THEM TOGETHER!! FOR THE SEASON FINALE!!! I’m so fucking happy!! No matter the tension between Dean and Cas, they’re, all three of them, together. What if that’s the tone for next season? Teamwork. Learning to communicate. More episodes together as a trio rather than spent apart, divided up?? *tears up again at the mere possibility of it all*

What we surely do have is TFW, shoulder to shoulder, facing the end of the world.

Apocalypse Now, here we come.

Hot. Damn.

*I love this show*

I’ll write more meta asap (literally meaning As Soon As Possible) (life is misbehaving at the moment and hours are short and far between), but there’s so much meta to write!!

Also, welcome to Hellatus.

If this is your first time, please know that there’s plenty of fan fiction and meta writing to get you through, and don’t forget to check out the archives. We’ve got fourteen seasons smack on the table ripe for dissecting. Blades at the ready. Sharpest ones, if you please.

Aw.

We’re gonna have So Much Fun!

#spn 14x20 #spn spoilers #first impressions #jack kline #dean winchester #sam winchester #cas #destiel #better together #welcome to hellatus #!!!#:P #my reading #my meta #spn meta

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supernatural-rewatch-3 · 4 years

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War of the Worlds

So, Sam, Dean, and Cas are looking for Jack and they find nothing. Cas decides to go see the angels and Dean wants to go with him at first. Dean is probably scared something will happen, that he might loose his friend again, or worse Cas will willingly not come back this time. Cass however wants to find Jack because he promised Kelly he would protect him. Dean accepts that and in the mean time he and Sam do their job.

So while looking into it, Dean calls Jody for some information and looks over the security footage with Sam before seeing Ketch. I’m sorry, but I think it’s hilarious that Sam and Dean are trying to figure out how it’s possible that Ketch is alive...when...they....don’t...stay...dead! How many people do Sam and Dean know that should be dead? Rowena a few times (although they think she’s dead now), Mary (again, same as before), Cas, themselves, and the list just goes on and on. But sure, Ketch is the one who will stay dead.

While Sam and Dean try to figure out what is going on, they are approached by a witch named Daniela who is asking them for help. Sam and Dean don’t like witches yes, but they have been known to work with a few in the past. Also they are doing this thing now where they help those in need, no matter who or what they are. So they help her and they capture Arthur.

While beating on him, which Arthur deserved, he tells Sam and Dean that he is Arthur’s twin brother Alexander which is just....wow. I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time really. I also love how Sam’s argument is ‘your name never came up’ and pretend with me that Arthur had a twin brother....when was he supposed to talk about him to Sam and Dean? Between which attempted killing or ‘pulling their asses out of the fire’ was he supposed to say ‘oh hey, fun little trivia here, did you know I had a twin brother? Who ran away from home because he was a coward? Oh look, a vampire to kill!’ Anyway, Sam starts to accept the ridiculous story when he finds a paper trail for it, Dean however is still very much against it.

Meanwhile Lucifer is getting tortured by Michael. Michael has decided that he wants to come to Earth and he introduces us to his assistant, the profit Kevin. And I like this Kevin just as much as I like AU Bobby and AU Charlie...as in not at all. Not a big fan of any of the Apocalypse Now team, but I really really don’t like the three of them the most. I loved Kevin, Charlie, and Bobby A LOT and the fact that these three exist...it pissed me off.

In order to try and go to the other world, Michael has Kevin use Lucifer’s grace to try and open a door. Lucifer is trying to get Kevin to listen to him however Kevin opens it anyway. Seeing his moment, Lucifer knocks out his attackers and makes a run for it, making it back to the other world. He is heavily weakened and realizes he might need some help.

Cas has decided to go see the angels about Jack. He goes to see Duma, and angel I really don’t care for all that much, and they talk about Jack. When Duma and the others reveal their intention to capture Cas and use him to force Jack to make new angels, they are all very surprised by the arrival of Lucifer. They go to a bar and talk about what is going on when Cas gets a call from Dean. He’s not really able to tell Dean much, which puts Dean on alert. However before the boys can arrive he and Lucifer meet Asmoedus, who captures them.

Sam and Dean go to find Cas but instead get ambushed by demons. They are saved by Arthur, who interestingly enough came to back them up. Arthur did tell them the truth that he does regret what he did to them, but their hatred of him is well justified. I also find it interesting that the label of ‘Soldier’ when it comes to Dean is back, Arthur saying they were Soldier’s in opposing armies. And it appears Arthur has allied himself with the demons for the time being.

I do love how the moment Dean pulled a gun on Arthur, Sam ran to Dean’s side because he trusts Dean’s judgement.

#spn 13x07 #supernatural #war of the worlds #alternate michael #lucifer #alternate kevin tran #castiel #asmodeus #dean winchester #sam winchester #arthur ketch

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makeste · 4 years

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BnHA Chapter 275: YAAAAY but Also AHHHHH

y’all what in the fresh hell is this bs

not yet there isn’t son but if you keep trolling like this I can give your nervous system something to actually be nervous about

(ETA: KILLING AIZAWA SHOUTA WOULDN’T MAKE SOMEONE CRY OUT OF JOY, THOUGH. RIGHT?!)

anyways I guess it’s time to read and see if I feel like sadly happily crying for two hours afterward

-- oh shit I just realized there are two scanlations out for this?? one from readjump.com, and one from readheroacademia.com. lol now what. uhhh

lulzes. I guess I’ll go with RHA for now and keep checking back to RJ after each page and I’ll go with whichever translation I liked better

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, OUR MILLENNIAL VILLAIN

WHAT IS A SHAME. TOMURA. DAMN IT

(ETA: ??)

-- well hello there

lol he is trying to argue a bit but then he’s suddenly cutting off. so in hindsight I don’t know why I said “lol”, really. I’M JUST NERVOUS OKAY

holy --

the rest of this page is not really much more helpful

LMAO NOW WHAT

so he just cronched onto the ground and fooshed Endeavor and then went flying off again huh

LMAO AT EVERYTHINNNNNG

THANK YOU ENJI. HE’LL LURE HIM AWAY. lols WHY THE FUCK DID YOU TELL THEM WHICH WAY HE WAS HEADED YOU BOOB

he really just fucking hung up on him afterwards too. just, “got it thanks amigo just leave everything to me, [CLICK]”

OH MY GOD

BECAUSE WE CAN’T HAVE ANYONE ELSE CONVENIENTLY INTERFERING WHEN YOU HAVE YOUR LITTLE THROWDOWN OF DESTINY HUH. THAT WOULD JUST BE TERRIBLE

-- oh shit

(ETA: never have I been so happy that a translation was wrong lmao.)

also “that damn kid...” like why the hell did my son have to go and befriend two protagonists. why is this my life now

AHAHAHAHA

oh my god I forgot they didn’t know, though

look at them go

damn Deku can you really not float yet?? that’s going to be really inconvenient if that’s the case

(ETA: my boy really would have just straight up died. he would have died so hard.)

OH MY GOD

NOW YOU WANT TO ASK HIM LMAOOOO. well it’s because of all the character development!! if you must know

THAT’S NOT AN ANSWER BLASTY MCANGERTY

you’re not as smooth as you think you are, you know. we all know why you actually followed him. but fine, be that way

okay so now he’s giving a real-er answer though

and Deku is all

and Kacchan is all

ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh snap

YOU SURE DO!! and he does with you too!! :) it’s gonna be one big happy reunion! :) :) :) oh gosh golly

OH NO KATSUKI WHAT ARE YOU DOING

THERE’S MOREEEEE???

YOU REMEMBER TOO, DON’T YOU DEKU. HE WAS ALL CRYING AND STUFF. IT WAS A LOT. IT’S POSSIBLE THAT I HAVE NEVER PERSONALLY GOTTEN OVER IT

AND IT LOOKS LIKE HE NEVER QUITE GOT OVER IT EITHER

:’)

by the way in the other translation he says “I’ll make up for what I did that day.” so yeah. BOOM. right to the heart. shot of me collapsing to the ground in slow motion

anyways Deku I sure hope you and your big hero brain can see right through this nonsense

god. you’re both in so much danger though, do you even have any idea?! of course you fucking don’t. god

HELLO BAKUGOU NARRATION!?!

well that’s one hell of a rare sight!! all fresh and chock full of shrewd observations about his best rival’s current skillset. ah what a time we’re living in

ooooh

gonna hold off commentary until I read the next part of this lol

OOOOOH

goddamn. Horikoshi really went off this week. just a whole chapter’s worth of Stuff Makeste Really Likes, goddamn is it my birthday or what

WOW

THE DISRESPECT. LOL DID YOU JUST FUCKING KILL HIS ASS

(ETA: I just realized he’s nowhere to be found after this, though, so... did he?? or is he now lying somewhere now all wounded and waiting to be found by one, or, dare I say, two of his sons? ...)

LKDFJLSDKGHOSIDGHOISDflkwejfdfsdklggdflgnfdlgndakgalkgldfdfkwlfwiowelKLDSGKSL:DKGJL:DKFM?G?SGSDLKG?SDFSDF??LKJ@L!

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT

HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT

even if you ask him nicely??! somehow I just can’t help feeling that he probably shouldn’t oblige you, though!?!?!

anyways. THAT AIN’T SAFE. and what the hell is happening in that bottom left corner ahhhhhh

AHHHHHHH

GRAN DM ME YOUR ADDRESS I WANT TO SEND YOU SOME FLOWERS AND A BASKET OF FRUIT AND CRACKERS AND SOME LITTLE CHEESES AND SAUSAGES

oh fuck me

anyways so now Gran is continuing to lecture the mayor of Dumb Ideas Town here, along with his friend the deputy mayor who still thinks he outranks the actual mayor

SHH NOW AND LISTEN TO YOUR GRANDPA

-- ohhhh shit son are they mounting a counterattack?? don’t tell me!!

also is Gran seriously faster than Tomura. that makes no fucking sense, and yet these two are only alive now because of it so I’M SURE NOT GONNA QUESTION IT

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

AND IS AIZAWA ON HER BACK THOUGH???

AHAHHAHAHAHAHA

AH, BUT IT AIN’T GONNA WORK THOUGH, IS IT!!! AHAHAHA YESSSSSS

my dear gentlefolk would you fucking look at how the lord has blessed us on this day

Aizawa Fucking Shouta and the motherfucking dramatic intro to end all dramatic intros. finally this man gets his moment

NOOOOOOOOOOOO

ISN’T HE THOUGH??? Tomura I love you sweetie but you better BACK THE FUCK. OFF

please don’t kill Aizawa

#bnha 275 #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #shigaraki tomura #aizawa shouta #endeavor #gran torino #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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