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chaoticgeminate · 1 year

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Black Vultures (ii)

Summary: When your plane to a beach resort vacation crashes, nowhere near your destination, you have to depend on a stranger to protect you from horrors you never could have imagined.

Pairing: Pero Tovar x f!Reader

Rating: Explicit (Chapters with smut will be marked)

Notes/Warnings: Series involves general survival, cannibals, violence, and gore with body horror elements. This is based loosely off 'The Forest' and while I may have used a picture of Pero in armor we are working with a modernized Pero here.

**CANNIBALS AND BODY HORROR ELEMENTS MORE PRESENT IN THIS CHAPTER - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED**

Written for @yearofcreation2023

Series Masterlist | Year of Video Game AUs Masterlist

i'm holding on and hanging by a thread (3.7k)

Learning how to exist without sound was a challenge, especially since you weren’t exactly in a place with accessibility options to make it easier, and you felt like a pouting child as you continued after Pero. Staying too close to the water wasn’t ideal, eventually those people would either go around it or just cross through it, so he’d packed you back up and put you both back on the move. You couldn’t communicate with him except for the brief moments when he’d stop to rest, trading small sips of water, and it as annoying but he only really gave you one or two word answers if he even answered your questions at all.

You didn’t know if he was just the usual silent type or if he just hated having to pull out the notepad to write everything down for you, which you could certainly understand but it wasn’t exactly your fault that your hearing was shot, and it made you feel worse that he wasn’t even trying to include you in his thought process or even explain what he was looking for to you. Lack of survival knowledge aside you weren’t blind and if you knew what you were looking for there was a chance you could help. But even the idea of upsetting him terrified you, he could easily just… leave you behind if he wanted to and that scared you.

Being stranded in a city or a foreign country was entirely different than being stranded in the wild somewhere, you could handle a different city or country because there were cell towers and hospitals and means of getting home easily. Along with ways to track you when people realized you were missing, if for some reason you weren’t able to make the calls yourself. This was a different monster entirely, a different realm of knowledge entirely, and you felt useless here; Pero had been kind in not outright telling you that he would have an easier time without you.

Tears formed in your lashes that you stubbornly wiped away, refusing to draw more attention to yourself than you already did since he kept looking back at you when you so much as stumbled on the uneven ground, and there was a part of you that was relieved you hadn’t worn your beach shoes on the plane like you’d initially planned. Pero’s big hand gripped your hanging arm, right by the bend in your elbow, and stopped you from wiping at your eyes and you were reminded that he wasn’t a gentle person with how tightly he was gripping you since you could feel it under the bulk of the jacket. He made sure you were looking at him and slowly, so you could understand them, mouthed words to you.

I know you are scared, but you are doing good.

The praise made you fluster a little but even that couldn’t combat the helplessness you felt completely, you nodded and let him continue to lead you since your legs were starting to ache, he kept holding onto your arm now with his axe in his left hand. Pero stopped at what looked like some sort of cliff wall, it was a very tall cliff and the fall from above could kill a person so an ambush from that high was unlikely, but you had a feeling it was the very clean looking stream that you were beside making him contemplate this spot.

He held his hand out to you, like he was telling a dog to ‘stay’ or something, and began to walk around the area to do whatever it was he needed. He was lightly scuffing the ground with his boots, inspecting the sides of trees and the bushes, before he seemed to be happy and nodded. Pero’s scribbles from writing fast were hard to decipher, as he handed the notebook to you, but thankfully you had known plenty of people who couldn’t write that well so it wasn’t too hard.

I will begin chopping wood to make us cover, I need you to make a fire pit.

You nodded, you could do the fire pit, now that he’d had you help make one before; it was a bit of a challenge finding a rock that was able to tear at the harder soil around the cliff face, and your already sore arms were protesting but you kept going. It was so brief a thought, the smallest and most accidental of things, but you wondered how Keegan would have reacted to see you doing this and just like that your eyes filled with tears. It was like a dam had burst as you began to sob, using the rock in your hands to expel the anger and fear on the ground since you didn’t know if he was even alive, and your hands were burning in pain by the time Pero came back and took the rock from you. The pile of wood he’d brought was dropped beside the pit you’d started as he pulled you into his lap, after sitting down, and buried your face into his stinky shirt to soften the sound of you crying.

It was embarrassing even though you knew, from a logical point, that it was normal to feel this overwhelming fear and sadness. It was traumatic, what happened to you, so who could expect you to keep it together? A plane crash, crazy people covered in blood kidnapping the survivors, you killed someone! But with Pero being entirely okay, seemingly unaffected other than the cut that nearly took his eye, all you could feel was a shadow of guilt for how much you were starting to fall apart. You felt his chest vibrating and couldn’t tell if he was talking or just making sound, not that you’d know the difference at all anyway, but it was comforting nonetheless because it was all you had.

As your crying subsided Pero let you go, inspecting your hands and shaking his head as he began unwrapping and cleaning the cuts on them at the sight of blood staining through the fabric, but he didn’t look angry or anything. Which actually did nothing for your mood, in fact you felt guiltier than before, especially when you saw how red and inflamed the skin around your cuts had become. Infection was not ideal in any situation but especially here, especially on a self-inflected injury, and there was a small little part of you that wanted him to just leave you here.

“I’m sorry- I’m so sorry I can’t- you’re forced to take care of me when you’d probably have an easier time on your own.” Pero didn’t stop tending to your hands but he did shake his head, peeking up at you with a firm look on his face, but he let you cry out all your feelings after finishing your hands and getting the fire going. Pero grabbed something out of his bag and you felt your throat tighten at the sight of Pedge, your little stuffed otter that came with you everywhere, and having Pedge in your arms helped ground you. Familiar, comforting, and just something that was so small but Pero had noticed.

Was it weird to kind of be falling in love with the man just because of that?

Pero finished building the fire, lining the pit with rocks and then he began working at dragging logs from smaller -thinner- trees over to build a very basic wood shelter. You needed something to do, something you could help with, since you couldn’t hear the crackle of the fire or the sound of the wood being sawed at by Pero’s knife to slot the logs together; and you went to rustle through the bags before grabbing some of the beef jerky and holding a bite of it to Pero’s mouth. He glanced at you before taking it right from your hand, his lips brushing your fingertips in the process, and your face felt warmer than usual as you took a bit for yourself and returned Pedge to the safety of the bags.

Your eyes hurt from crying, you were still scared out of your mind and your hands hurt almost as bad as the muscles in your legs, but Pero was being kind by helping you and there’d be time to freak out later. Pero handed you a pair of binoculars with an appraising glance over your face, the message was pretty clear that he wanted you to keep watch, and you began to look around through the magnified view; nothing out of the ordinary caught your attention, there were rabbits and squirrels all around at least.

“Pero.” You whispered his name, unable to comprehend what you were seeing when you shifted your attention toward your left, and he pulled the binoculars from your hand to look. You felt the way his body tensed up as you gripped his forearm, the way his body moved like he was panting hard, and you couldn’t hold it in. Heaving and vomiting up everything in your stomach, the absolute horror of the situation starting to sink in. In the distance you’d seen a camp, already meaning you’d have to move again, but at that camp was hanging skins to dry with more of those bloody people using primitive tools to hack at hunks of meat.

Human skins hanging to dry, which told you what you needed to know about the meat.

Pero hauled you up, when your heaving was nothing more than dry attempts your body made to react to what you’d seen, and his panicked look as he picked up the bag and urged you to keep moving had you stumbling over your feet but obeying. It was going to be a long day of trying to find somewhere even marginally safe, and you were exhausted from being awake for so long already, but the fear and horror kept your mind from letting you actually feel the exhaustion. Pero had his axe in hand, urging you on with gentle tugs of your wrist or his hand on your lower back, and it felt like a mild relief when you reached a rocky outcrop with a very narrow entrance to what might be a cave.

He went in first, leaving you with the bag, only taking his flashlight and the axe. You wanted to follow him but knew better, just waiting, tugging at your ear lobes and wishing not for the first time that your hearing wasn’t shot. You waited patiently, keeping a hold of the chunky stick Pero had armed you with temporarily as you tried not to think about what you’d just learned, back pressed to the rocks and hood drawn to be as invisible as possible. After what felt like eons Pero motioned for you to follow him inside, this cave looked like it had already experienced a cave in since there were a lot of rocks piled up at the back and Pero made sure to put a lot of smaller rocks around the entrance. You didn’t get why, yourself, but didn’t ask.

The fading light of day brought another problem, even in the jacket you were freezing and it was only going to get colder. Pero disappeared through the opening, leaving you with the flashlight, and you shivered before drawing your legs close to your chest. He returned well after dark with only his penlight to guide him, using his very limited supply of propane for his single burner camping stove to fry up the greens he’d foraged and washed, and you whispered your thanks when he sat beside you so the pair of you could eat out of the tin frying pan. The padded gel mat he had with him was unfolded and Pero sat down on it, tugging you into his lap before draping his sleeping bag over both of you, and you could feel him speaking right beside your ear even though you couldn’t hear it.

It was the beginning of warmth returning to you, being full, and just general exhaustion that made you fall asleep so quickly. Not noticing that Pero gripped his axe tightly or the way he shifted so that he was the one closest to the cave opening.

You woke up to a loud sound right in your ears, not even registering that it was sound that woke you up for a moment as you blinked against the bright light coming through the cave opening, and then it happened again and you went entirely still for two reasons. One being the stiffness against your ass and lower back that you felt since you’d snuggled against Pero in your sleep, even through his cargo pants you could feel the heft of him and it was a little distracting, but the major reason being that you could hear him snoring. Like, full on revving chainsaw levels of volume that had to be from his sleep position, it was loud but you didn’t even care.

The fact that you could hear it was more than enough for you to feel boundless relief, even if he didn’t talk to you now that you could hear him you weren’t completely useless. Was it likely you might have some permanent problems? Of course, that was always the case with hearing loss due to noise, but for now you would be content with what you had. Pero groaned when you accidentally wiggled, to keep quiet over your excitement, and you felt his hold against you tighten as he pulled you closer and nuzzled his face into the space between your shoulder blades against your jacket.

Part of you was tempted to relax against him, to let him think you were asleep still, but he woke up too soon for you to even attempt that; you felt his grip loosen and heard the soft curse he whispered as he tried to subtly lean back.

“It’s okay, I’m awake. Don’t apologize, Pero.” You turned after carefully moving away from him, so you didn’t rub up against him more than you had to, and you realized he hadn’t exactly figured out you could hear him now.

“Way to go, pendejo, first pretty girl to even look twice at you and you scare her off with a raging hard on. Why am I always fucking up?”

“You didn’t- you didn’t fuck up, Pero. I, uh, I know its a thing and it’s okay- wait you think I’m pretty?” It wasn’t like you lacked confidence in your appearance but you weren’t exactly clean, wearing your favorite outfit, or smelling particularly fresh so that definitely didn’t help you think he had a good opinion of your looks at the moment.

“Bonita, you can hear me?”

“Oh, uh, yea I woke up to you snoring-“ His loud annoyed groan, definitely aimed at himself, almost made you giggle as he interrupted you. You covered his mouth with one of your bandaged hands and giggled at his reaction.

“Shut up, it’s sweet how you chose to sleep in a way that kept us warm but made you uncomfortable, I appreciate the hell out of you. Anyway, I woke up because you were snoring in my ear, which I couldn’t help but get excited because I could hear again, so it looks like that was temporary but there could still be lasting damage.” Pero was staring at you while you removed your hand and you watched the way his flat expression turned into a soft smile, which he promptly dropped as he nodded and began getting up, so you hastily began helping him fold the mat and sleeping bag back up.

“I do. Think you’re pretty.” Pero’s remark was so off-hand that you almost thought he was talking to himself until you looked up and saw that he was looking at you.

“I had- I planned to spend a day on the beach, instead of backpacking as soon as I arrived, just to maybe get the opportunity to see you when we got to the resort area.” His confession made you smile, knowing that had you met him under those circumstances you would have been more than thrilled with the handsome man flirting with you, and you hoped he could see how sincerely interested in him you were too. If you made it out of this you’d need a lot of therapy before you saw yourself looking for romance but Pero was definitely your type.

“Didn’t come alone but part of the point of the trip was for- for Keegan and I to hook up with people and just enjoy some time away from work for the first time in two years.” Even thinking about your best friend made your heart hurt, knowing what you did about those people that were here, and Pero’s eyes softened with sympathy.

“As soon as we find a way to get help I will go try and find him myself, Bonita, if you want me to.” You felt your eyes water and shook your head, his offer was sweet and came from a well meaning place but you were a realist and knew that it was unlikely you would find your friend in time if he was still alive.

“We don’t even know where the other half of the plane went, for all we know it broke off over water or something, what we need to focus on is getting out of this alive. I don’t- I can break down over this later.” Pero nodded and told you about the food he’d foraged, fiddleheads and wild leeks, so that you’d know what they looked like while walking but he did hold your hand now instead of your arm. His thumb rubbing against the back of your bandaged hand idly, and he pulled out the walkie-talkie looking thing he’d been fiddling with the day before too.

You spent another large portion of the day with Pero trying to get his satellite phone to work as you walked while you kept your eyes open for more edible plants, the signal wasn’t good here and he theorized some sort of interference and that meant there was somewhere around here that had power. That or there was something in the mountains around you interfering but both of you were holding out hope that it was the former, seeing as whatever it had been caused the plane to lose its navigation capabilities long enough to have the pilots crash.

Pero proved to just be a quieter person, only showing real concern whenever you would have flashes of high-pitched ringing in your ears -tinnitus was something he was familiar with, being a combat veteran- and he even let you have his hunting knife as a weapon once he was sure you could grip it okay despite the very obvious signs of infection lingering in your hands. He had used as much antibacterial as you were willing to risk using after dousing your cuts in peroxide, apologizing as you cried from how badly it hurt, and you knew he was rushing to find safety for you both.

With any sort of infection the clock was ticking and even you knew that if it got worse, if it spread, that there was little you could do without proper medical intervention.

It was around midday that you were stopped by the sound of footsteps all around you, the cracking of leaves and sticks sounded so far away and so close, and Pero let out a curse when the cause came into sight. It was horrific, looking like women that were fused together into one monster since there were breasts and vulvas on the damn thing, and you barely managed to contain your scream as Pero ordered you to run. He was keeping close to you instead of running past you, the claw-like appendages at the end of the creature’s legs lashing out but his axe swings were able to at least do some minor damage since it started to slow with every cut to the ‘feet’ that it took.

Spotting a narrow cave opening felt like a moment of reprieve, with Pero following closely behind, and the thing couldn’t reach you due to its strangely fused body being unable to contort to the size of the cave entrance.

“What the fuck is that?” Pero’s question made you shake your head, you could hardly believe what you were seeing too, the no faces at all and it had two sets of deformed arms while the entire upper body was fused together with a hood of skin over their ‘heads’ while their lower bodies were all like one big opening where their genitals fused.

“A fucking monster, or something, we’re going to need more weaponry if we can even stand a chance at stopping that thing. How has that slipped by any sort of government radar?!” You didn’t know what to do, a knife and a camping axe were not going to cut it, and Pero looked around the cave with his flashlight before leading you deeper through the tunnels. You could tell you two hadn’t been the only ones here, there were backpacks that had been discarded and old bloodstains on the ground, and your grip on the knife tightened when Pero found one body that looked really fresh and the man had a gun on his belt.

The tunnels were connected, since you found an exit nowhere near your initial entrance, and Pero used his binoculars to spot the abandoned stand shelter in the distance before hustling you through the meadow. The grass was high so the pair of you kept low but were able to move relatively fast, though he did spot some of the cannibals watching from a distance, and he used the height of the stand to look around some more after you both scaled up. Your legs were screaming and you couldn’t help but lay down, limbs akimbo as you panted hard from the workout, but you were alive and so far you were safe.

“I will have to set up some sort of protection around the bottom of the stand, Bonita, you must stay up here since we cannot risk you doing so much that you spread any remnants of the infection in your hands.” You nodded and just stayed on the floor, panting and staring up at the wood and thatch ceiling, and all you could do was listen to the grunting and chopping of wood as Pero worked below you.

You wouldn’t know it but this was when the fever set in.

All Fics Taglist: @haylzcyon @wordsnwhiskey @pagannightwitch @radiowallet @tauralmie @amneris21 @trickstersp8 @practicalghost @rominaszh @alwaysdjarin @alexxavicry @all-the-way-down-here

Just Pedro Taglist: @maievdenoir @beecastle @littlemisspascal @writeforfandoms @aynsleywalker @lovesbiggerthanpride @mswarriorbabe80 @emiemiemiii

Alt Taglist: @imtryingmybeskar @fan-of-encouragement @grogusmum @sizzlingcloudmentality @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future

#year of creation #year of video game aus #the great wall fanfic #the forest fanfic #pero tovar x f!reader #pero x f!freader #cw cannibals #cw cannibalism #cw body horror #minors dni #chaoticwrites #year of themed creation

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swap-cult-au · 1 year

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What if the characters were bitten by conveniently radioactive spiders and became spider-man (or skeletons)? How would they act and maybe look then?

[I accidentally deleted the original answer to this ask so i’m so sorry if it seems shorter or not as detailed i’m just really frustrated!!]

okay, so-

I have been hyperfixating on Spiderverse since before it released so this ask is literally a dream come true. Warning there may be spoilers for different Spiderman movies!

I will also be going into depth of potential Canon storylines, adding onto O’hara’s theory in ATSV.

Now, I don’t think the ordinary radioactive spiders made by Oscorp or Alchemax [Or anyone else] would do much of anything to the twins, but if they did, the descriptions are below.

For Dream, I think he would just say “Oh cool new powers” and call it a day once he learns to control them. He wouldn’t use it to save people or even help, just for his own gain. Nothing would change, and I don’t think he’d have a change of outfit, either. Maybe his webs could be golden ones made of pure positivity?

For Nightmare, he’d use his power for helping others who have lost their way or for stealth. Now, I’m not saying Miles Morales invisibility type stuff, I mean he would be able to blend into shadows much easier. I picture him using an all black suit as part of his normal attire as he would be committed to the job [similar to that of Andrew Garfield’s Amazing Spiderman after Gwen died in ASM2.] His webs, I think, would be contrasted but similar to Dream; made out of pure negativity in a black shade. For an extra twist, maybe he’d have his goopy substance on it, or even better, Venom’s.

For Killer, his abilities would be similar to Tom Holland’s Spiderman. Unfortunately, no cool Iron Spider because he doesn’t know a Tony Stark and that is way out of his range. He’d feel happy knowing he’s helping other people, but the press might ruin his pride. [Especially if a figure like J Jonah Jameson is around.] I think he would wear a white and red suit, potentially with his target somewhere on it?

For Cross, I think he would be similar to Killer ability-wise. I’m kind of tempted to give him a tool to use like Pavitr Prabhakar has, but unsure of what that would be. He’d probably have a black and purple suit [I believe there’s a suit like this in the Spider-man games— correct me if I’m wrong! If there is that’s what his suit would look like.]

Now for the Canons:

Dream’s Canon would include:

Killer’s death [He is the closest person to Dream, and would possibly teach him a thing or two about attending those you care about most.]

The saving of his cult from people who heard about it. [Dangerous people btw, not just hikers]

More to possibly come

Nightmare’s canon would include:

The potential death of Dream: Nightmare is the only person who can kill Dream, so I picture he was saving someone from their realm, and Dream had come by to bother his brother. Now, they fight, yadayada, but Nightmare accidentally uses too much negativity, which was fatal for Dream. The only reason why the imbalance isn’t met is because there is a cycle with the energy. This is something separate and needs to be explained in another post.

The complete mending of the God Realm

Dream’s reign ending [If the former does not take place]

More to possibly come

Killer’s canon would be:

The death of his closest friend [You know the one that committed suicide in the original story? Well, in this one, this friend dies due to secret villainy.]

Horror and Dust finding out about Killer’s alter ego

The death of the police captain [In this case, it would be one of Killer’s parents. [DISCLAIMER: Killer does not hate his parents.]

More to come

Cross’ canon would be:

The death of XChara

The necessary discontinuation of his podcast

More to come

I would have more but like I said above, I deleted the data. Hopefully this isn’t too little!

#inquiries to the light #speaker of the light #anon ask #swap cult au #spiderman #spider man

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onyxheartbeat · 2 years

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I was tagged by my friend @remarkableboyithinkilleatyour (thank you, love) to list some favorite films. This was difficult, to say the least. I could have chosen a little easier if it was based on one genre, but at the same time, it’s charming seeing the hodgepodge here. I didn’t want to search memory banks for too many “indie” or arthouse stuff I’ve liked, so a lot of these are childhood comfort films but ones I’ve continued to adore to this day.

Back to the Beach (1987) - I can quote this entire movie and I feel sorry for anyone who doesn’t understand its brilliance and humor. It’s hilarious.

Genesis (short film, 1998) - This is part of a trilogy of shorts that the filmmaker Nacho Cerda made. It’s a really profound and raw depiction of a specific emotion that no other film has been able to capture for me.

Sleeping Beauty (1959) - I had to choose a Disney film since I love the classics, and I almost went with Fantasia. But I can’t express how much I love the artwork of Sleeping Beauty. I try to read/watch as much as I can about the art production of it. It’s just unmatched in terms of detail.

The Evil Dead (1981) - They don’t make ‘em like that anymore. The talent it took to do all that shit so low-budget, by hand, and make it funny and artistic with all the effective camera angles and and lighting and makeup. I love it. Nothing will ever be that cool in horror again.

Titanic (1997) - It deserves every bit of hype it has. People who hate on it just want attention.

Big Trouble in Little China (1986) - I love everything about this movie. I randomly quote it all the time. The humor is just very specific and ridiculous. I watched it constantly when I was a kid then when I moved to San Francisco as an adult, it just got that much funnier.

The Red Shoes (1948) - I was a studious dancer growing up and thought that would be my career. I rented this film at Hollywood Video when I was like 14, at the height of my ballet days, and loved everything about it. It’s absolutely stunning, visually. The colors and costumes and storyline are all pure magic but in a psychologically dark way.

Space Jam (1996) - Again, watched it constantly as a kid, and I actually appreciate and laugh at it even more as an adult. I actually watch/appreciate basketball now (which I didn’t growing up), and I have a routine of listening to a few songs from the soundtrack before every Warriors game.

Hook (1991) - I had to choose a Robin film and almost went with The Birdcage, but this one meant the most to me growing up, even though I actually haven’t been able to watch it since he took his life. I would cry my eyes out and I just haven’t been ready.

Honorable mentions: Jurassic Park, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari, and Requiem for a Dream.

I tag @awesomgrlgr8job @hapless-hollow @borednotboring @walkingidler @abluelagoon @astarkey @drum-cu-naluci but don’t feel any pressure to do it if you don’t feel like it!

#tag game #favorite films

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manor-tea-time · 1 year

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(TW! Description of torture, death, insanity, and human body parts)

A letter is sitting on the survivor's desk, with a small wooden box next to it. The letter reads :

"Good morning! Now, I know what you are wondering, "How did you even get in here?", well, lets just say that I have my ways. Anyways, back to business! As you can tell, there has been a little rat giving out my personal information, and as much as I hate others getting into my personal business...... Well, the fear and paranoia in everyone's faces is quite amusing.

Because of that, I've decided to spice things up by proposing a little game of Whodunit! Don't worry, there won't be any consequences if you get it wrong. The rules are simple, all you have to do is figure out my identity, and you win! You can do it alone, in a group, whatever. Now, you might be wondering, "Why the hell are you doing this?", Well, let's call it an investment for my very own entertainment!

It's been quite a long time, but I still remember that day....... A little game of mouse and cat with three others. Despite how easy they went down, it still provided quite a large amount of entertainment! Yes, they were blindfolded, yes, they had a fractured ankle, however, no one forced them in the path of my knife!

Anyways, I've decided to leave a gift, one that brings back some fond memories I had......... Please, take good care of them!

Love, You Know"

Inside the box is 3, well-preserved, human fingers.

The survivors gathered around the box hesitantly. Each one had already read the letter they'd received in their rooms. The air around them being undoubtedly tense as they each tried to think of what to say.

Ivy gagged as she opened the box, nearly dropping it at the sight of the 3 fingers. Slamming it back shut as she slid it away from the group on the table. "Disgusting! Vile! What the hell kind of present is that?!"

"One where the sender is trying to give a gruesome message. I'd say it was well received." LeRoy pointed out, staring at the box in horror. "I think this mystery killer is trying to get us to shoot ourselves in the feet while trying to figure out who it is."

"The bastard is trying to get us to turn on each other. Playing with our emotions as they pick us off one by one!" Wayne said shakily, desperately trying to hold onto some semblance of calm. "They've already broken into our rooms easily! Killing us in the night would be a walk in the park!"

"Unfortunately Wayne, you do have a point in your fearful tangents. This mystery killer was able to sneak into our rooms fairly easily and not disturb anything along the way. It almost makes it seem like they'd gone in there before to plan it out." Ivy muttered as she looked back to the box in disgust. "In any case, we should take care not to play into the trap of going against one another. It's probably best if we form a plan to keep each other safe till we figure out who this killer is. I don't fully trust that there really aren't any consequences to not figuring out what our mystery killer's identity is."

"I agree! Perhaps we could find a room in the manor that's not being used and camp out there? It would be less expected and we could possibly set some sort of trap for if the killer sends another note." LeRoy nodded. "We will probably do better as a group than separately anyways. I'd imagine it would be easier to subdue a killer with three people than just one."

The group continued to work out their plan to avoid the killer for the time being to give themselves more time to piece together who exactly was behind it all. Occasionally feeling watched as they glanced around the darkened areas of the manor. Surely it was just their mind playing tricks on them though, right?

-ξ(❁) ⊕) ξ , (-⊕ ζ ⊕-) < , 🗝️>(⊗▼⊗´)•ζ

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

#rp response #identity v #idv ocs #idv oc ask blog #idv askblog #oc #The Costume Maker #The Lampsmith #“Key-Master”#Gotta pull a game theory and try to figure this out #Anon Visits #Murder Mystery Event

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nami-healer · 1 year

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Chapter 1: April 12th 2032. Disgustingly Early.

This is set after the end of the game. Vanny is gone, as is Vanessa. The plex didn't burn down, there was just a day of absolute horror for every maintenance worker working at the Plex when they arrived the morning after the night the game was set.

Sun/Moon are referred to as Attendant or Daytime/Naptime. Unless the children are about, then Sun/Sunny/Sunshine or Moon/Moonie are also used. I imagine the names Sun/Moon came about via the children as they found it easier to say and that the company prefers the staff to use 'official' names of the animatronics and are willing to be dicks about it.

Today was the Naptime Attendant’s check, you’d been working, struggling, to get his code back in order. To fix the odd hostility issues he was presenting. Someone had been sticking their fingers in his coding and messing with his AI, someone not authorized as it certainly hadn't been you. Your running theory was that the last night guard was responsible, fired under mysterious circumstances and had a programming background, however with no proof all you could do was try to fix the damage.

Working an early shift so soon after a closing one always brought you close to the edge. Sometimes, it was the edge of murder, sometimes a just quitting. However, today, you were just on the edge of exhaustion, meaning either option just felt like too much hassle. So you dragged yourself to your car and drove listlessly to work, now you sat head pressed firmly against the steering wheel, you tried to summon a lick of energy, just a little to get you through the next few hours. It was a short shift today. As the designated handler and maintenance worker for the Daycare Attendants, you either got 12 hour shifts or 4 hour shifts, there was no in between. You would spend the whole day trapped listening to the maddening music and screaming children or doing the pre-opening/closing shifts.

Sighing deeply, you take a sullen tired look at the time on the dashboard, the obnoxiously bright orange display alerted you that it was 6:01 am a minute after you were supposed to have already clocked in. Heavy handedly you kill the engine, heave open the car door and begrudgingly make your way across the car lot. A rough swipe of your staff pass opens the main doors for you, the automatic features didn’t enable until 9am when the building opened up officially for public use.

Shuffling across the polished black floor, you return a wave to Jen, an unforgivably alert blonde who was assigned as Chica’s handler, as she shot up the stairs to Rockstar Row. Where she found the energy to run up stairs at 6am was a mystery to you. You head right, towards the red shutters of the Daycare, and to the most hated part of the day, the second card swipe. The one that actually clocked you in and registered you as working. The card reader that despised you. You glare menacingly at it as you swipe your staff ID, hoping to threaten it into working. A red light and screech of denial met your ears as it challenged you back, angrily you swipe again, uncowed by your rage it rejects you a second time. Frustrated you ignore the almost smug rejection noise it emits and swipe a third time. Green light, acceptance, Victory.

You swear under your breath, cursing the machine as you wait for the shutters to lift high enough for you to pass under. After a quick pit stop at the lockers that sat immediately to the left of the shutters to lock your coat away with your valuables, money and phone, you make your way to the check in counter to begin switching on the systems needed for the day. Excited jingling from the Attendant bouncing inside the daycare echoed up to you as you worked, the Daytime Attendant was like a giant puppy in many ways always, always excited to see you and unendingly energetic. You assumed he was currently bouncing around and probably waving manically at you to get your attention. He would get it as soon as the systems started up and you could move into the Daycare Play Area to set up in there. Then you had to drag his 10 foot ass to parts and services.

Somehow.

The bot absolutely hated going there, you weren’t sure why but you suspected his previous handlers had mishandled him previously, whether it was intentionally or not wasn't something you dwelt on, it did cross your mind occasionally the man who had trained you didn’t seem to like the unending energy. However, it was easy enough to overload his sensory input during maintenance, he had triple the amount of sensors that the Glamrocks did just in his hands alone. The Attendant was literally the most sensitive guy you knew. It made him exceptionally difficult to work on in all honesty, he would twitch and whine like a dramatic puppy at the vets during any procedure he had to be alert for.

With an exhausted sigh you begin the task of unlocking all the barriers, the system turned them all on when activated, you just needed get on your knees and manually flick the override off to actually allow the power to flow through them. It only took a few seconds per barrier, and given the minute amount of barriers you were only kneeling for a couple of minutes. You stretch as you stand up, twisting your back in an attempt to crack it, you rested your forearms against the top of your head as you ease back down, turning to look into the Play Area. Much to the Attendants apparent delight. He waved vigorously, using both hands, the moment you looked at him, excitement boiling over as he began to bounce on the spot.

You almost felt bad that you were going to take him to Parts and Service and upset him. Almost. It was for his own good. Okay, you felt a little bad, you didn’t like it when he was distressed, those sad little whines and the way he sucked his rays in to make himself smaller was always a bit of a punch to the gut.

The sound of his bells followed you as he somewhat chased you from below, skirting the edges of the Play Area as you dragged yourself around the upper level, past the party rooms to the stairs, sometimes you indulged the Attendant and went down the slide. You assumed it was your shorter than average height that made it so entertaining for him to pick you up, or perhaps it was simply due to the fact you were the only adult that allowed him to pick them up, it rarely happened but it did happen.

The oversized, castle themed doors were yanked open with excitable energy as you stepped off the last step. The attendant bounced out to you, his excitement at you return exploding out of him as he grabbed you to pick you up for a hug. You laughed, trying not to think about the 4 foot drop beneath your feet and wrapped your arms around him and squeezed him back.

“Alright, alright” You smile at his antics, well used to them now “Put me down now”

“Sorry, sorry” He chattered at you carefully setting you back on your feet “Missed you. You’ve been gone Forever!”

“Sunny” You admonish, using the nickname that corporate would scold you for if they heard “It’s been 6 hours and I was with you all day yesterday” He looked completely unashamed and unrepentant of his actions, excitedly swaying in front of you as you stared at him, faux sternly with your hands on hips. “Alright then, I’m going to check everything is a-okay at the security desk, can you check the wires and generators in the play towers for me? We just need to make sure they’re covered properly still”

“Yes, yes” He bounced off at speeds that still impressed you, he was remarkably quick for his height.

Striding into the daycare, you watch your bot disappear into a castle tower with an ease that made you jealous. Shaking your head at yourself, you began powering on the computer system for the guard that would come in later, if they hadn't quit again. The camera system was always running and could be viewed at an external office at any point but the desk in the was a daytime backup on its own server for when the children existed in the building. A rush of jingles flew across the daycare, as you leaned under the desk smiling amusedly at the manic sound, you assume that the attendant was dashing over to check the generator in the opposite structure. Squinting you look for the hidden panic button to check its power light was on, just as you spotted it a bang echoed across the table. You jumped, unprepared for the noise, slamming your head against the underside of the desk.

“Oh no! No no no nonono” You heard the panicked flurry above you and realised the attendant had jumped onto the desk “I'm sorry sorrysorrysorry, didn’t mean to-”

You pull yourself out from under the desk before he can work himself up any further, grabbing one of hands you give it a gentle squeezed

“Its okay, accidents happen” You smile at him, he’s still got himself worked up into a tizzy though.

His hands reach out for you, hesitating as he got close waiting for you to give permission to check your head. Obligingly you tip your head forward, accepting the fact he wont be able to forgive himself if he doesn’t check to see you’re not actually hurt. Gently he looks through your hair for bumps, bruises, cuts or whatever he expects to see. He’s silent as he concentrates, the only sound coming from him being the gentle whirr of his systems.

“So” You smirk “Can you see my brain?”

His hands disappear, his tone serious, scolding “Not funny, no no no. You could've been hurt”

You sit up chuckling at his put out tone “But I'm not” you push at his chest gently “Get down clown. Did the wires and generators look good?”

He hops off the desk lightly, nodding at you in a near violent manner “Yes all covered, all safe as can be” he began to bounce from foot to foot as you flipped your last switch “What now friend? Can we finger paint?”

Time to ruin his day you supposed sadly “Not today Sunshine” You sigh “Maintenance day remember?”

Instantly his attitude changed; the excited hops stopped, his stance lowered considerably, his arms drew in to wrap around himself. He was making himself smaller, probably in hopes you’ll be guilted out of the task. You sigh softly as he started sucking his rays in, going all out to look as miserable as he possibly could.

“Sun, you know if we don’t I would be fired” a sad nod, sun rays fully retracted “Come on man” you whine as he drooped more, he was really laying it on thick today “We have to fix Moons code, don’t you want him back properly?”

“Yes” It was barely audible but you heard him, barely.

You held out your hand, attempting a trick with a 50/50 success rate, wiggling your fingers to gesture for him to take it “I’ll even hold your hand until we need to power you down”

You do a faux-excited hop you really didn’t have the energy for, trying to sell it like you would to a toddler. He takes your hand, dejected and droopier than ever, but he was coming via his own feet. Which meant you didn’t have to power him down in his play area like a vet tranquillizing a zoo animal, you’d only needed to do that once with the Attendant. Getting his lanky 9ft frame onto the transport trolley had been as hellish as the look of betrayal on his face in the second before he went down. It had taken weeks for him to be genuine with you after that, he was never impolite or rude to you but you could tell it was forced. You hadn't blamed him for it either, you would have felt just as betrayed if someone you welcomed into your space electrocuted you, especially while your back was turned.

You had sworn to yourself you would never use the high voltage taser again, the company forced you to carry it at all times for safety, you’d never had a real reason to use it. The manager training you had been the reason you had that once. You had considered the man a total walnut but until he moved onto his new location and you officially took over the daycare you had had to live by his rules.

After he left, knowing just how advanced the Attendants AI you had approached him and told him some rules were changing, he had slumped and nodded. He clearly had expected the worst, and judging by the past managers tweaks in the files, that was the trend. ‘I have 2 rules for you’ you had said ‘1. Never, ever harm anyone and 2. You will walk by my side and behave when you need to go down to maintenance.’ He had stared at you repeating your words in a whisper ‘Walk beside you?’

Since then several more rules had been tweaked too, at the Attendants request. Everyone must sit and eat at the same time, was his first request. Something they had done for a few years after the daycare opened, it made total sense to you to have a dinner time. A record check notified you the official statement for the change was ‘Leah’s mother threw another fit because her child refused to eat at the set time’ after that kids seemingly just got fed randomly.

You’d also brought back nap time, it was robot free until you could get the Naptime Attendant sorted out and stable. As much as you liked the Night Gremlin, he wasn't exactly fit for working currently. The virus had done massive damage to his internal coding that controlled his emotional core, which had spiderwebbed into other processes. You were confident you had managed to totally scrub away the virus now, your last check into his systems hadn’t revealed any lingering corrupted software just a lot of coding errors.

“Come along then” You tugged the sun shaped robot through the play areas massive doors, he dragged his feet, bounce completely disappeared from his step.

His systems cycled in a way that sounded like a sigh as he followed you into the hallway that lead to the underground tunnels, it was the only time your towering charge actually stood quietly at full height. Usually he gave other workers a shock with his height, everyone was used to him being lowered into a bouncy squat that made him appear a good few feet shorter than he is. It amused you endlessly to see them do their double takes, you had been shell shocked too when you found out you only really came up to his hips rather than his chin like you had assumed.

You enter the daycare code into the tunnel system keypad that allowed you underground, the daycare code also activated the motion sensors in the light system that brightened the hallway to stop accidental bot switching in transit, a quick swipe of your staff card finalised the door unlock. Beep beep beep. The grating noise revealed your codes acceptance and you shoved the door open one handed, the Daycare Attendant followed dutifully and the pair of you continued the march to Parts and Service, it was only a few minutes away from the daycare, the only part of the entire building that was thoroughly thought out location wise was Parts and Service its central location meant easy access from just about everywhere that had a lift or tunnel accessibility.

The Attendant continued to let out sad little clicks and whines as he followed you but remained otherwise quiet, he never spoke on the way down unless you spoke first. He didn’t like it down here, you knew there was some sort of trauma engrained into his AI from previous handlers. There wasn't much you could do about that as it would basically be a total factory reset of him, that would mean everything he had learned would also be gone, no games, phrases, or kids would be remembered. He wouldn't be himself any more. So you persevered, editing codes and gentle touches, hoping he would learn more from you than those in the past.

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze as you both reached the red doors of the Parts and Service department, Chica was in the cylinder with Jen leaning over her upper body, probably getting her voice box tweaked again or her insides cleaned out, perhaps even both knowing the how the chicken acted. You walked carefully over to the little side rooms used for programming issues when parts weren’t in need of replacement. One quick swipe of your card and the door unlocked, you squeezed up against the glass wall as you walked through the door so you could keep hold of the Attendants hand as he ducked, literally needing to bend down to get in the room behind you, the rooms really hadn't been designed with a bot of his height in mind. The small rooms contained a bench for the animatronic, a chair for you and a truly miniscule table for your tools.

“Sit please” You smile at him warmly, trying to keep up the happy go lucky composure for him despite not really feeling it.

He very determinedly shuffled around you, moving specifically in the direction that meant he could keep hold of your hand. He sat down with little fuss, just taking a second to make sure none of his ruffles got crushed before swinging up his long legs. You swap your hands as he reclines, needing to free up your left hand to make the power down process easier for yourself.

“Okay, Here we go!” You use a singsong tone as you reach around to the back of his head where his switches sat, it took four in total for a complete power down.

Two per AI. You check the Naptime Attendants switches first ensuring they were off, and the first one confirmed off… You struggle slightly with stretch for the second, you just manage to graze it with your fingers and confirm it is also still off. That check would be easier if you had both hands but it wouldn't do to break your promises to him.

“Alright, S-Attendant” You force yourself to not use his nicknames, there were cameras and mics in here, a nickname wasn't worth the hassle off of management “Powering down in 3…”

You flick the first switch, this one supplies the power to his secondary motor system it allows more precision to his movements to make his acrobatic abilities safer for everyone, his hand twitches nervously in your grasp slightly.

“2…” You slide you hand gently over to the other switch this on much closer to you than the rest, smiling at him “And 1…”

You flatten your left hand against the back of his head to support it as the power down sequence begins, waiting for his eyes to darken completely before preparing letting go of his hand, the bells on his wrist jingle as you move his arm to sit on the allotted section of bench. With both hands available to you, you can now manoeuvre his head into the proper position against the headrest. You leave the small room to gather what you need, the cable and computer, unlike some parts theses were stored fairly close to the central hub in the Maintenance bay.

“You coddle him like a mother coddles a baby”

Well you just nearly shit yourself, that’s fine. Heart pounding you whirl around to glare at the only other person down here. Jen is cackling having seen how high you jumped.

“Look who’s talking” You point at her, both of you well aware Jen happily wanders around holding Chicas hand when she needs to get her anywhere, open or close.

She shrugs shamelessly “You going to Locker P?”

There’s a hopeful glint in her eyes, she wants you to get something for her cause its the closet that currently houses the biggest spider in existence, Music man not included, that had been loving called Pete by Montys handler. You suspected the exposure to Montys anger and temper had driven the man mad or he, most likely, had become so used to the 7 foot alligators temper that anything under a foot wasn’t enough to trigger a fear response any more.

“Nope” You smile at her, your arachnophobia curling around your brain agitatedly at the thought of being in there with it “Just to C” you point at you destination a few steps away.

She sags, letting out a weak laugh “Shit, I guess ill go be a big girl then”

“Good luck with the spider” You call over your shoulder as you dart away from her before she can further attempt to rope you into spider wrangling.

You make sure not to trip over the power cable that was powering the back up generator running the lights in this section of the massive room. If the company wasn't so tight with the cash any one of the handlers could fix the lights within a shift or so but you were all stuck waiting another week for an electrician to be sent down, someone with a lower hourly rate.

One card swipe later you have the Attendants cable hooked over your shoulder, and one ancient laptop that is easily 15 years old pressed to your chest as you scuttle back to the room where you left him. Eager to begin, you think this time you could turn the Naptime Attendant back online, if you get enough error codes this time, your next session would hopefully be in the cylinder with him online with one of them acting as your troubleshooter.

You gracelessly plop the laptop onto the metal table, the laptop itself was larger than the tabletops surface but it would stay put while you used it. You suspected it was intentional, if there was no space for anything but work equipment there was no temptation to bring in drink, food or anything else. You unfurled the wound cable, preparing them for use, a single connection for the laptop that split into 4. You drape the end that you would plug into the Attendants chest over his legs, temporarily pausing in your connecting endeavours as you move to the laptop to battle with a surprise knot in the middle of the wire. After pulling, untangling and swearing at what seemed to be a miles worth of cable you have your little workstation set up, the laptop buzzing angrily as loaded up the systems you needed to use.

You hummed nonsensically to yourself as you opened up the Attendants chest panel to access his ports to plug the cables into him, while the Glamrocks had all the memory and connections located in their heads the Daycare attendant had his in his chest, his head shape wasn't optimal for it. It was also better protected from rough children inside his chest cavity too. He didn’t need the empty space for cakes like the Glamrocks did. While he could be rented for parties, he was usually out of the price range of the average party planner, his party costs being higher than the Glamrocks to cover the Daycare closure/overtime expenses.

It didn’t take much effort to get him connected up, four little connections to secure then a single one for the laptop, the most strenuous part was removing his chest plates. They certainly weren’t heavy, more awkward, little dents off playing with the kids making it slightly harder than it should be. Still it only took a few minutes to get him prepped. You began the hoop jumping, password entering process required to access the attendants coding system when you heard a shriek and the Parts and Service doors slam behind you. You glance over your shoulder, fully expecting to see Jen being dramatic about Pete. While it was in fact Jen fleeing into the Parts and Service room, it wasn't Pete chasing her. It was a rogue Endo. Malfunctioning judging by its movements and hostility.

Shit.

Jen managed to get into the cylinder with Chica and shut the doors behind her just in time to make the Endo slam into the closed door. You breath a sigh of relief knowing she was safe from it in there. You watch her as she slumps exhausted on the stool by the computer system in the cylinder, you couldn’t tell if she was hurt from where you were but she didn’t appear to be from a distance. You pull your sleeve up and expose the, daycare themed, Faz Watch on your wrist. With a couple of taps you had informed security and they were coming down to handle the Endo. Two or three would come down shortly, likely in the riot armour that the company supplied for emergency situations.

You watch the Endo as it tries, futilely, to smash it’s way into the cylinder with Jen. It would never get through but she still flinched with every bang, deciding to be the distraction she needed you call her through the watches. It beeps as it rings through to her watch, waiting on her to answer.

“Hey” She was whispering, but curled as she was he face was right next to her watch making her loud enough to hear.

“I called security, they'll be down in a few to offline the thing.”

“Thanks” Her voice was shaking, still low, you suspected she didn’t really want to talk but also didn’t want to be alone in there. The call being the closest she could get to being near someone.

“Did it hurt you? Should I call for Medical?” You swung on your chair a little, twisting side to side, as you keep your gaze on the Endo, making sure you know where it is in case it wanders off so you can point security in the right direction.

“I'm okay, just an adrenaline rush” She laughs weakly, her forehead still pressed against her arm.

You hear people running to you, three or four of them judging by the noise, the doors slam open dramatically to reveal three guards. Well two guards and a trainee in their riot gear, they had clearly decided to give the rookie some hands on training during his first week. You look over to Jen, she hadn't even looked up.

“They brought the new kid” You snort amused.

You didn’t intend to sound as mean as you did but the kid was barely 18 and built like a pool noodle. He didn’t exactly cut a heroic figure swamped in the heavy gear. You hear an equally amused wheeze of air escape Jen, you assume it was as close to a laugh as you would get from her. She did look up to watch the totally epic fight and rescue though.

The scrawny teen had squared up to the Endo, taser in hand. While the older two had circled around it, they appeared to be trying to push it towards the rookie so he could have the experience of taking one down but they also had their tasers out. Prepared to strike should the rookie not manage to get it downed properly, after all it wasn’t something you got 2 shots at if you messed up badly enough. The riot gear may cover important parts but it didn’t cover everything, no one wanted to be grabbed by a malfunctioning Endo with no AI. After all it was the AI that supplied any sense of conscience to the bots.

“Think he’ll get it?” Jen murmured quietly to you “He looks like he’s preparing to rugby tackle it instead of shock it”

“I think its his first time with the taser” You sassed, poking fun to distract her from the stress you could still hear in her voice “You think the new guard for Monty Golf would have had some training with it before starting”

“Hmm” You can hear her smile in the quiet hum, distracted by the rookie moving in to attack “Oh, Victory for the newbie”

You watch as the Endo collapses under its own weight, reeling back from the shock “Rugby Moves for the win”

You spin to face your laptop as the guards begin to haul away the Endo to a secure lock up where it'll be stripped down for parts or repaired, depending on what made it malfunction. You tap the trackpad to wake the screen back up so you could restart the log in process, the systems having timed out while you watched the spectacle.

“I better get Chica closed up, I'm too shaky for the repair work I was going to do” Jen groaned as she sat up “I’ll just do more damage if I try”

“I’ll take the parts back for you” You say quickly “Locker P right?”

“Yeah, Thanks” You hear her back crack as she stretches it out, finally uncurling.

“Sure thing” Your laptop beeps in the annoying tone to notify you that you had been granted access “I’d better hang up so I can focus on this coding though”

Jen groans in despair “Urgh, coding. Enjoy”

You laugh, knowing she hated working on codes it was her least favourite part of the job “Byeee” You sang before disconnecting the call.

Turning your full focus to the screen in front of you, you opened the Naptime’s AI system. You had less time to complete any code repairs now, so you needed to have your full attention on what you were doing today if you wanted to keep on track with your repair plan for the Attendants. Refusing to rush the work however you take your time trawling though his coding, you weren’t having to completely rewrite as much code back to its original structure now. Back when you had first started the repair work you had no idea how bad it was going to be, Sun’s coding had barely needed any tweaking. His code had been affected by the virus but it barely had any hold on him, designed to consume before moving onto a new system. You had managed to miraculously catch it in its early stages.

Half an hour later a tap on the glass behind you startles you out of your trance, Looking over your shoulder you see Jen and Chica stood, Chica waved enthusiastically at you.

“Just letting you know I'm taking Chica back upstairs and leaving” Jen shouted, the only way for you to hear her through the thick glass.

You give her a quick thumbs up and a wave as she leaves, not fancying to return the screeched ‘Bye’. She had a bounce in her step and was seemingly recovered from the shock. Nothing kept her down for long. You check the time quickly, wanting to know how long you had left to work.

9.30am. Shit.

You had to clock out in half an hour. The Endo drama had truly taken up so much of the time you had to work. With a sigh you pull out of the Security protocols you had been working on, after quickly scanning over your work to make sure you hadn't left the code you had been repairing with a hole in it. You needed another offline session with these protocols you noted, feeling a touch of disappointment, there was still too much to repair to even have moon turned on as of right now. Once the security coding was repaired you were confident that you would be able to do online repairs with them as it should make the Naptime Attendant more stable.

His personality codes would be tweakable while he was online, it would be easier with him online as you could talk to him while doing so and be able to gauge the extent of work needed to be done by his responses during the session.

#fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sb #fnaf sundrop #fnaf chica #swearing #endoskeleton #ocs

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zannolin · 1 year

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i started watching her 7 playthrough and it is funny because her first two videos (midway second ep) have her be with this person called Suzi who keeps reasurring her that nothing to scary is going to happen and lulling her into a false sense of security then jumpscare happens however I know RE7 really well and know where everything is so watching someone who has never played it before has that factor of a I wanna replay b not what I would do c so glad that i learned that trick for changing the aiming reticle colour (no trick you just go to settings and switch it to green) it made life so much easier

and with all re games ready on the back button just in case somebody on the video insults ethan (and re7 as a whole because re fandom hates admitting that RE7 was a huge gamble and it could have been the end of the series as a whole so there would have been no remakes which people love except for RE3 which is so unfairly hated it is infuriating- apparently a programmer for OG3 and OG1 like the 1996 start of the franchise and not the remake, OG2 and OG4 made his directorial debut in 2020... for the RE3 remake i feel so bad for that man Kiyochiko Sakata)

in this case (not sure how to explain this) there is the added bonus of getting confused of hearing her voice go to her Jill voice and when she starts singing

it's weird to me that RE3R seems to be so hated. like it's not my favorite but that's bc i happen to be attached to other characters more than jill, by no fault of jill's own. i love her and carlos and i think re3r was a solid game. the only complaint i have about it is its similarity to re2r but then again like most of the RE games up to 7 (and even 7/8 to an extent) followed the Exact same formula so it's not something unique (ha) to re3r or anything.

also the thought of nothing scary happening in a resident evil game, that's cute. (well, depending on how you define scary. from four onwards they really did start leaning more into the action than the horror, imo, which is why 7 is so visceral and terrifying and powerful and yeah it WAS a huge gamble and i'm glad it paid off! it saved the damn franchise and to date i think it's the best of the resident evil games even though i am very biased)

#answered asks #anonymous #resident evil

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siriusanotherside · 1 year

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Right nnow, some people in a Discord group really hate SDRA2 and prefer DRA much more, because they find SDRA2's writing (Both in characters and in cases) much, much worse (Like, finding Kokoro and Kanade's intelligence more like a informed attribute, and finding Yuki annoying and whiny and preferring "Yuuki" much more bc they felt his breakdown was better written), and pretty much saying they LINUJ unlearned everything he learned when he did the first game (Bc in the first game, the characters questioned the others' testimonies, and feeling that Kokoro and Kanade's clues in the first two cases on SDRA2 came too out of nowhere)

EDIT: HELLO ASK THAT HAS BEEN IN ASK HELL FOR A LONG LONG TIME. IT IS FINISHED FINALLY! First, It is valid to have preferences for whatever reason between games. And even disliking other games for A/B/C/D, as taste is taste and everybody has their preference. I also feel that the structure (and cast) of Another1 and Another2 is different enough that it can happen of one hating one and liking the other. You can also dislike a character for not-deep reasons (there are characters I dislike just because their voices make my ears hurt or because I dislike the color palette).

Idk how Discord works well, but given the intensity of this, by what I am reading in the ask, I would say to try to either block them (or something similar to filtering them) depending on how frequently they do so (like say if they are flooding the chat with it non-stop). That said given that you said it is a Discord group then… It might be easier to filter it out of your feed? like a channel thing?.

I do greatly disagree with their criticisms though.

Addressing the criticism regarding Yuki VS Yuuki.

I would disagree because while they may share the same name and near same appearance they have very different: resources, connections/friends, structure of the killing game and pressures. All of those points snowball into very different breakdowns.

Yuuki/Utsuro Killing Game (calling KG) didn’t aim at him, specifically, and he had Divine Luck protecting him against most of the worst parts of it (People he cares about always survive, never betray him; No motive targets him, specifically). All participants, as far as he knows, have sympathetic motivations for killing and are being manipulated by Monokuma. As far as Yuuki knows, this is all caused by one evil person and should they find this person, everything would be over.

Yuki KG, on the other hand, is specifically targeting him in order to cause as much suffering on him as possible. As far as He knows, the game is caused by 5 murderers who are waiting to kill them, and twice shown to be willing to betray their friends (Hajime -> Shinji / Enma -> Kokoro).

The mastermind repeatedly shows that he is invincible and can bend reality and so no one can do anything about it. Not only that, but Kanade serves to skyrock the paranoia in everyone since her trial shows that even if one person is not a Void and seems to be a meek, shy, calm, softspoken, civilian, they could still be secretly a serial killer with a very different evil agenda.

All of this creates very different mindsets.

Adding to that, Yuuki is waking his memories, and while he is horrified of it, he still has the choice on what to do regarding them. Yuki is, basically, getting another person shoved inside his head while having his personality artificially (Mikado’s AI creation thing) fluctuate between both without any input of his, continually feeling powerless.

It is notable, that at the end, Yuuki’s Horror is discovering his memories. Yuki’s horror is being replaced by someone else while discovering his body doesn’t exist anymore and he is only a brain.

Yuuki doesn’t have to deal with people he specifically bonded with, canon-wise in scenes through the story, (Akane and Tsurugi), dying. Yuki loses his best friend / big brother figure / leader figure in a horrifying way.

Monokuma allows for Yuuki group to……regroup and have moments of lightness and closure, meanwhile Yuki group doesn’t have this type of closure and are in increasingly tense and anxiety inducing sequences.(Think of Chapter 4)

Also, Yuki has to deal with, since Chapter 3, extreme moodswings and jarring changes in his personalities as if he is disappearing. Yuuki has to deal with odd dreams, once an angry outburst he quickly assumed was due to the KG and only truly has the illusion shatter in Chapter 6.

(Ohhh nice parallel it came to me, but Yuki gets executed in spite being and knowing he is innocent of Teruya’s murder. Yuuki dodges execution despite unknowingly having a connection to Yamato’s murder.)

All of this creates two very different breakdowns and ways of dealing with it. Yuki, due to the circumstances above, gets an on-going increasing-through-chapters breakdown. Yuuki’s proper breakdown happens in chapter 6.

Yuki reacts to the constant pressure of his killing game that barely allows him to breath, by crying, by snapping, by breaking under it. Yuuki has enough moments of levity to rest and truly snaps in chapter 4, in which both him and Akane have time to address it and apologize, and 5, in which he grabs and scares Mikako due to suspicion.

One breakdown is just more openly helpless due to Yuki’s lack of agency, of hope spots between despair, and lack of resources to fight. The other is a built up for the reveal of the mastermind, which Yuuki gets agency in what to do with the information, and has Divine Luck subtlety protecting him from the worst of the killing game.

Yuuki gets to decide what he can do to what happens to him. Yuki can mostly watch in horror unable to prevent, affect or deal with what happens to him.

So, in conclusion, both breakdowns have different aims and constructions that suit each character specific arc and foreshadowing and are both greatly written. Yuki’s is just more painful to watch due to it being a reaction to his lack of agency VERSUS Yuuki’s being a build up to find out a mystery that, in the end, he is still able to have agency in it.

Addressing Kokoro’s intelligence as an informed trait

I do believe Kokoro’s intelligence shows up enough during her screentime to be shown to be a consistent trait. She identifies something is odd with Sora, she is able to read the emotions/thoughts of other people with a good deal of frequency and point out so and she tries to come up with the best choice in a sea of bad ones to deal with her problems.

Looking beyond the trial, in chapter 2, this is a constant. Her main goal is to live, which means not to anger and become a threat to the Voids and to non-Voids, so she immediately glues herself on the one person who is confirmed not to be a Void, has aversion towards killing, wants to save them, and is committed to protect them (Teruya). She tries her best to stay neutral and not interact with anyone as to not anger the Voids or show any inclination on who they are.

The clue in trial one is brought up while being consistent with Kokoro’s character presented in Chapter 1 and in chapter 2. Notably, if you do all of Hajime’s free time events, it is also consistent with that, since in them, Hajime spends a good deal of time grappling with the realization he is going to have to kill someone, and so does show a window for Kokoro to be able to be able to read his doubt and then realize that he was the killer.

Also, ultimately the clue was not just a clue thrown there and forgotten. Kokoro’s clue gave her credibility and role through the trial gave credibility to her as a very unexpected threat to the Voids that could snitch on them at any moment and would be believed by the others due to said credibility.

On why Kokoro doesn’t make the optimal choices everytime

The vibe I get / my interpretation upon seeing Kokoro arc is that Kokoro is extremely smart in the book / deductive way but lacks in terms of how to apply it. Using a metaphor, Kokoro is a doctor that can identify what you have with precision, and can suggest a treatment but flounders when it comes to applying said treatment.

Kokoro is smart in technical terms and in able identifying what other people feel to the point of being able to almost read their thoughts. But. Notably, repeatedly, she seems to lack the ability to engage with the emotions she identifies in someone else, as well as, being overwhelmed by her own emotions due to the abnormal situation she is in (Killing Game).

She can identify who the Voids are and that they want her dead, and so she scrambles to try to make herself less of a threat. Kokoro can connect the dots that if she hints or outright tells on a Void, another will kill her. She clings to Teruya due to him being the only person neutral that she can hope to protect her.

There are different kinds of intelligence. Example: Shinji is not booksmart, but he is emotionally smart in that he can rally, motivate and comfort people. Kokoro can point out what the person is feeling and nearly thinking, but she sees it in a clinical way without engaging with said person emotions, be it by feeling them or by addressing them. As such, she can’t comfort, motivate, rally or de-escalate successfully the group.

Chapter 2 showcases this, in which Kokoro has to navigate being a threat to the voids, not wanting to die, and trying to parse her own feelings on the situation, and how to try to deescalate the situation. She fails sometimes and increases the paranoia and distress with the group both Voids and not-voids.

One moment I also think showcases this is when we look at the first trial in a Watsonian way. Kokoro is able to identify the killer, but she lacks a way to bring it up that wouldn’t derail the trial and possibly make people dubious. So she lets Sora take the reins of said trial, so that Sora can “build the road” to the conclusion.

In Enma’s case, Kokoro seemed to be overwhelmed by the situation. Kokoro knew Enma was a Void. She knew Enma was observing her. She was also shocked by the way Enma interacted with her, as if genuinely wanting to be friends and Kokoro……also started to want to trust and be friends with Enma.

Kokoro strikes me as a very lonely person who was never really approached this strongly by someone that committed to being her friend (even if with dubious reasons), and so, I think it did touch her and made her want to trust Enma.

Notably, it is during the hopeful moment, when Hibiki who previously was freaking out over the Voids, commits to try for friendship with the show, that Kokoro tries to reach out back to Enma and feels confident doing so.

However, due to the her lack of… way with her words, bluntness and generally not really great empathy, as well as the nervous-ness of the situation it went as it went. I imagine that due to Enma never really hinting at her trauma to Kokoro, Kokoro ended up underestimating the intensity of the trigger that talking about it was, and so was caught out out of guard.

In conclusion, I would say that Kokoro is smart, but that she lacks in emotional intelligence to use what she sees to propel others towards her own goals.

Addressing Kanade’s intelligence

Much like Kokoro, Kanade intelligence is a consistent trait. Is it used for evil? Yeah, but Kanade and her actions do showcase it.

Kanade creates a persona that immediately hides most of her intentions and makes people underestimate her. The facade she shows into the world is of a meek, follower, crybaby with no confidence, who is bullied by her sister. Hibiki follows it up by being loud, yelling insults at her, and seeming (and believing) to be the one taking charge of them. This makes it so people are less willing to scrutinize or pay much attention to her, seeing her with either pity or looking away.

All hints she herself gives that she may be more than she shows are fairly neutral, after all, who is going to call her out for liking horror genre? Or for staying calm while Hibiki panics upon the bodies and say she is trying to calm her?

Notably too, the person who most gives away both Kanade’s plan and abilities are not she herself, but Hibiki who talks about it in a setting where Kanade can’t stop her without throwing away her mask. (Nikei interview right in front of everyone where Hibiki talked about their synch, Hibiki complimenting Kanade skills in front of Sora).

I would also say her behavior in the first trial is consistent and that she, much like Kokoro, watches out while Sora leads them towards the right answers. And then, she doesn’t step up due to Kokoro doing so.

Third trial also does give credence to Kanade’s intelligence. Her plan may be convoluted as hell, but the crux of it, that is two people murdered someone at the same time, was intelligent and impossible to guess. The viewer might be genre aware due to knowledge of the canon-verse third trial, and guess what Kanade was aiming for, but a bunch of people who were used to the structure of 1 murderer 1 victim were very stuck on it. Even too, the clues that do point to the right conclusion are given previously by Hibiki and not Kanade.

Syobai, the person who had the most knowledge on murder also dismissed at first glance the possibility due to the perceived impossibility of that level of synchronization being possible. Mikado has to insert a fail-safe on Sora so that she refuses to end the trial with the wrong conclusion before the time arrives, and Divine Luck has to act, in order for Kanade’s plan to fail.

Kanade does starts to panic and snap more, alerting people something is off, when they start to get said clues but considering the high stakes situation, it did made sense. Her arrogance is also a clue in itself that something is off with the conclusion they were arriving, but that’s a character flaw that doesn’t negate that the plan was smart in shrouding what the true murder was.

And so, yes Kanade is smart and it is displayed consistently through the game for it to be a trait.

As for the second trial clue, given Kanade’s experience with murder, her clue seemingly comes from nowhere but serves as foreshadowing of Kanade character, as a cunning and smart person. It is the first time that Kanade blatantly breaks her facade of a meek person, by acting arrogant, insulting people and cleverly pointing out the murder’s twist, and getting rid of the roadblock of the trial. Notably, a lot of people were unsure of Kanade suggestion, but they did went with it due to finding themselves going into circles when trying to find an answer to the murder.

So yeah, due to the way it acts as a foreshadowing for chapter 3 + set up for Kanade character + people were already stuck might as well hear her out, I do think it is a valid clue.

(The thing in the trial that makes me go “my dude what” is the icicle whole deal tho.)

About Linuj.

*waves hands in a way to try to say what I mean* It is…. Hm. Eh.

TL;DR: 1 was the first fangame and so he was still getting used to doing a fangame and getting confident as he went, but still acting inside the constraints of the setting. 2 was Linuj’s more ambitious project (I mean this in a neutral observation) that diverted a lot from the common tropes and standard plot structure of a killing game.

Due to this, the games have very different vibes. It is not that he unlearned anything, but that he got more confident to tell the story he wanted to tell and the plots he had ideas for. (END TL;DR)

When I see Another1 and 2, it gives me the gut instinct that Another 1 was Linuj first dipping his toes in fangame and DR -

(Chapter 1 in particular is…feels… very safe in the sense that he followed the very very standard DR formula to the point where it feels it is DR/1 with the twist that it is played straight in that ass who murdered is an ass and saint victim is a saint. Sports guy murders girl but she wasn’t the intended victim, ball was a key point of the murder, confusion due to location etc etc)

--- And as such, even as Linuj started to get comfortable and experimenting with his writing (the following chapters) due to the set up, he still went with the common structure of the plot, that is: Despair VS Hope; standard killing order; 1 (2ish) mastermind; mastermind reveal at 6; Murders are caused by motives set up by Monokuma or blew out due to confrontation; everybody had been Hope’s Peak students and Ultimates before and had known each other.

(I mean the observation above in a neutral way (not negative or positive). I think the writing of the first game is incredibly good, a joy to watch, the twists original and gripping by their set up, but he goes with the usual structure)

In 2, Linuj gives the vibe of feeling more confident and had gotten more practice with the creation of the killing game, and so went with the vision he had and experimented with his ideas.

This caused a very different plot structure: Despair VS Hope is barely there and is a light curtain due to Mikado/Voids motive having nothing to do with it and the theming focusing more heavily on Outcomes VS Process; Murders are (mostly) pre-determined beforehand by chosen murderers; everybody are strangers actually; already revealed mastermind in 1 and technically near every chapter having one adjacent reveal.

About specifically the clue and testimonies writing

I think the clue that Kanade gives in within the story in that it serves very well its purpose of both setting up Kanade’s true character and threat and in introducing a new way to look around the murder.

Kokoro’s clue felt very in accordance with her character and her goal as well.

About testimonies…. I will be real with you chief, it has been a hot second since I saw all of the trials. I generally think that they were done ok, with shout outs to chapter 1 and 4 when it comes to it. Due to the structure of 2 (Somewhat everyone accounted for plus looking in reverse order) and 5 (3 people were all together leaving the options as: suicide, Alt Yuki possesses Yuki, Mikado did it or Iroha did it), I do understand why the testimonies were structured that way.

I think that the testimonies due to the structure of the murders between games as well as different motivations. I don’t know, they felt very natural to the trials of their respective games. Notably, I would point out that Mikako also does a testimony, not unlike Kokoro, in Chap 4, in which she sees Satsuki running away in tears out of the room and is taken as truthful.

The clues comes as character establishing moments for Kokoro and Kanade, which either impacted them in the future (Kokoro’s credibility3) or foreshadowed important points that were to come (Kanade’s true personality and threat as a clever cunning person).

So yeah.

#anon #asks #ANON I AM SO SORRY #IT WAS THE KIND OF ASK YOU KNOW YOU WILL WRITE A LOT SO I KEPT RE-WRITING IT AND GETTING UGHT HATS NOT QUITE RIGHT #I HOPE THIS 3K+ WORDS HELPS

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saby-chan · 1 year

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So it happens that I am somewhat of a writer too and I’ve been thinking about something lately... Would you guys be interested in reading a Chichiya centric fanfic focusing on his life in the Borderlands before The Beach and the events of the manga/show (aka ante-Arisu timeline)? Cause I have this story I write for myself as a personal hobby of mine (I picked writing back up as a means to cope easier with stress during my mid-term exams this year and this fanfic turned into a project I am currently very dedicated to) and since I managed to complete the Prologue and up to chapter 5, I guess I could post it online if anyone would like to read it.

As a whole it would be like a spin-off of ‘What if AiB’s main character was Chishiya instead, the cynical man with no purpose in life?’, as he wanders these waste lands trying to find a way out, while he’s being pestered by the presence of another human being, whom Chishiya made the ‘mistake’ of saving their life in an extremely rare unusual moment of pity. Personality wise, I tried to combine TV-show!Chishiya with manga!Chishiya (with an additional touch of my own personal style of writing him that adds a little bit of spice) so I think he could come off as entertaining to the reader (Chishiya is my favorite part to write, ngl, trying to get into this man’s train of thought is a real experience).

For the sidekick part, it’s OC-based tho, so it won’t have reader insert, but the character I built specifically with Chishiya in mind to be complementary to his personality, meant to accompany him on his journey, could be relatable enough for the reader, for them to actually come to enjoy her (she’s not an idiot and if I were to compare her to a canon character, imagine a combination of Ippei’s pure hearted optimism and compassion towards humanity and selflessness and Urumi’s cunning skills of manipulation, although a bit toned down to fit a kinder person). She fits most criteria in this post, so for the people looking for something like this, I guess I got your back.

Genre wise there’ll be romance (coz I am a sucker for love stories and fluff and Chishiya needs a little bit of company in his life), but it’s very slow-burn (just to give ya’ll a mental image of what I mean, kissing won’t happen until like after page 180 or so), I also tried to add some action by creating my own games for them to partake in and, of course, there’ll also be comedy and fanservice too (a bit of everything I guess, but don’t expect much gore or detailed horror scenes).

So yeah, if anyone’s actually interested to read this thing, just let me know. This might not be the best way to describe and present the story concept to the public, since I suck at self-promoting my stuff, but I tried to add and summarize the general ideas. I’m still not sure if I should post it or not (hence this random post), but if there’s enough interest from others, I’ll post the prologue and chapter 1 as a test run, since I am open to feedback and opinions on the story. For anyone wanting to know any other details, my asks are a friendly open space for any and all questions (except hate, please don’t send any forms of hate).

Thanks for taking the time to read this post and let’s see what happens.

Yours, Saby

#aib #aib chishiya #chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya fanfic #alice in borderland #aib fanfic #imawa no kuni no alice #fanfics #i write fanfics but I am way too insecure to publish anything

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artist-issues · 2 years

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What’s the most depressing movie you’ve ever watched? Run Lola Run, because it’s not only stressful, but it never stops being stressful, and you know from the outcome of all those different scenarios that her future isn’t going to look much less stressful! Ack!

What’s the most disturbing movie you’ve ever watched? I usually switch the movie off if I get too disturbed. Like, if I feel like the movie is rubbing my face in some topic that doesn’t need more than a teaspoon of exposure to get the point across, I’ll turn it off. But I guess Nosferatu was the most disturbing one that jumps to mind.

An actor/actress you’ve seen in more than 8 movies? Name the movies. Tom Hanks! (He’s…he’s in everything.) Saving Mr. Banks, Toy Story, Castaway, A League of Their Own, The Polar Express, Toy Story 2, Toy Story 3, Toy Story 4! And many moooore 🎶

A film you could watch on repeat for the rest of your life? Too many! But we’ll go with East of Eden. (I can’t. Stop. Watching. It. I’ve seen the movie 5 times now of my own free will. And I keep popping up like a gopher next to everyone I know and asking them if they want to watch it with me.) Honorable mentions to Jurassic Park, Saving Mr. Banks, Captain America: The First Avenger, Rebel Without a Cause, Zootopia and Lilo & Stitch.

What’s the very first film you remember watching? The Lion King.

A film you wish you hadn’t watched? Scott Pilgrim Vs. The World. I hate that movie.

A film you wish had a sequel? I’m starting to lose my taste for sequels! I wish it weren’t so. The best sequels are sequels to animated movies. So I guess it would be neat to see another Zootopia.

Which book would you like to see adapted into a film? I don’t know about film, but Wagner the Wehr Wolf would make SUCH a good miniseries.

The most aesthetically pleasing movie you’ve ever watched? The Little Mermaid.

What’s your favourite movie director? Living? Rian Johnson. Dead? Elia Kazan or Billy Wilder. I think you can tell a lot about a director by the way the actors come across on screen, and all the actors I’ve seen in the above men’s movies have been at their best under their direction.

Your favourite movie genre? I think animation, but sometimes I wish it weren’t a genre of its own. So with that in mind, my favorite genre is drama. But I LOVE old old horror.

A movie that holds a special place in your heart? Saving Mr. Banks, because I think, when Tom Hanks says, “that’s what we storytellers do. We restore order with imagination,” my whole heart exploded. But also The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, because everything in it is exactly as it should be for Narnia. And Lilo & Stitch just needs to go without saying for this ask game.

Your favourite comedy film? Fantastic Mr. Fox!

A music video you would love to see developed into a film? Is this a thing? …Jumpsuit by Twenty One Pilots.

A film everyone loves but you hate? I hate all Live Action Disney remakes except for Cinderella 2015, so far.

A film you love but everyone else hates I love The Last Jedi. And everyone everyone everyone else hates it! 😬 To be fair, The Last Jedi was easier to defend before Rise of Skywalker came out. But I still love it as a stand-alone movie.

Which cinematic universe would you like to live in? Midnight in Paris, but I don’t think that counts as a cinematic universe, so I guess the Universal Monsters cinematic universe! I wouldn’t want to live in the MCU, as much as I love it. But Universal Monsters? Think about it! You’re living in the 40s and 50s, and yeah there are vampires and werewolves and such, but oooo how cool! And Midnight in Paris is all about being able to visit the artistic “greats” of times gone by, and have them comment on your work and get a greater appreciation for your own time. And I just think that’s neat

What’s your favourite biopic? Saving Mr. Banks.

Mainstream movies or indie movies? …Mainstream movies. I know it’s not very cool to think that. But I basically think like Dipper: “The Top 100 are the Top 100 for a reason, darn it, they’re catchy.” I think if your movie can appeal to huge amounts of people and stand the test of time, it’s done it’s job as a great communication tool. Anything else is like whispering in a crowded room to get attention. It works, but it just makes you look self-absorbed and weird, and only willing to communicate with the people who lean in and make you the center of their focus.

Old movies or contemporary movies? Old movies! Old movies! I’m doing Bryan McDonald’s Film Diet, and I was just telling my mom, “I don’t know if they really don’t make them like they used to, or if I just haven’t been watching the RIGHT contemporary movies, but old movies are so much better than new ones.” There’s this thing. In Rebel Without a Cause. It’s the famous scene where Jimmy is arguing with his parents about telling the police what he’s done. And there’s all this tension surrounding Jimmy and his dad’s relationship, but they never talk about it to one another. And the mom keeps getting around in front of Jimmy and making him look at her and talk to her and interrupting the dad, but Jimmy keeps addressing the dad…but never turning to face him. And it’s like, that’s their whole problem. Jimmy won’t face his dad because he doesn’t like what he sees. And Jimmy’s dad won’t stand up because he knows Jimmy doesn’t like what he sees, and he’s a coward. And barring James Dean’s improv “stand up for me!” They don’t ever talk about it until the very last few lines of the movie. But you, the audience, know that all of that is happening in subtext because even though it’s not necessarily subtle, the way they communicate it is more realistic. It’s in the body language and the things the characters don’t say to one another and in their actions. But nowadays everybody just says exactly how they feel to each other in wittier and wittier screaming matches. Also the thing about Jurassic Park. Jurassic Park only shows dinosaurs for 11 minutes of screen time. The rest of it is pacing and suspense and real characters. The movie’s not about dinosaurs, it’s about trying to seize control of something you shouldn’t, and it’s about life (not dinosaurs, but hermit-like men learning to teach and take care of the next generation) finding a way. Contemporary movies don’t do it like that.

A film with an amazing soundtrack? Ratatouille! …what? It is

#film #me #film ask game #ratatouille #the last jedi #disney live action remakes #james dean #elia kazan #jurassic park #rebel without a cause #east of eden #nosferatu #saving mr banks #tom hanks

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titan-fodder · 3 years

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Prima Vista Part I

Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader wc: ~ 9.7k Warnings: dubious consent (because of alcohol), just copious amounts of sex, oral, squirting, 69ing, college shenanigans, obnoxious frat boys, terrible fashion choices A/N: At long last, here we have the beginning. Massive thanks to @pleasantanathema and @whats-her-quirk who have been cheering for me since I told them I wanted to right a “little college AU” for a “little collab” June and I have been planning for a while. Also, I don’t know where I’d be without Lauren’s fraternity knowledge, so extra thanks for that, babe. I hope everyone has as much fun with this fic as I did.

God, you hate frat boys.

Their sense of entitlement, all their fucking house pride. Brother this, brother that. It's annoying. Add in the factors of being an athlete on top of it, and they're downright insufferable.

So it makes absolutely no sense that you're at a fucking Pi Kappa Alpha party.

Your friend, Hitch, dragged you here (naturally), and it wasn't like you could really object considering she's the only real friend you have on campus. You study together and switch off between dorms to watch movies and bitch about classes. She's the complete opposite of you in many different ways, but you soul-bonded over biology and that was that.

Unfortunately, Hitch decided she would leave you to your own devices almost immediately, opting to skip over to a game of beer pong and flirt with a boy in her statistics class. You have no idea why considering he has a fucking bowl cut, but she's been talking about him for weeks now.

The party is filled with loud music and too many people with red solo cups. There's no way they're all of age, so you're already paranoid that the cops are gonna raid the place, but there's nothing you can do besides leave. It's a tempting thought.

Before you can, though, there's an uproar in the kitchen, and curiosity gets the best of you. Moving from your place against the wall, you make your way over to peek in and see what's going on. A large group of frat boys, what you think are sorority girls, and whoever else wants to join are raising their cups to cheer. An especially loud voice rings out above the rest, "One win down, eleven more to go!"

Claps and supportive shouts are nearly deafening.

"I think we can do it! Do you think we can do it?"

More cheers, more hollers.

"Let's hear it for UC lacrosse!"

You have to cover your ears this time. Should have known this party was to celebrate the win earlier that day.

When the crowd parts, you see the ringleader, Erwin Smith who is very well-known on campus for three reasons: he will talk your ear off about history if given the chance, he's irritatingly gorgeous, and he will fuck any pretty girl with a pulse.

Again—you fucking hate frat boys.

To ease your bad mood and possibly encourage you to have some semblance of a good time, you shuffle further into the kitchen to grab a drink. You feel a little exposed, not dressed like many of the other girls who are either in rompers or the classic sorority chick outfit (giant college shirts that cover their shorts). You are in a crop top, torn shorts, and a floral cardigan. Not your best outfit, not your worst.

There's no way you're touching any of the pre-poured cups or the jungle juice, opting for an unopened can of mediocre beer.

You feel someone approach you from behind, glance over your shoulder to see nothing but a broad chest covered by a fucking hawaiian shirt.

Craning your neck, you're met with another familiar face, one Mike Zacharias known as 1) Erwin's best friend, 2) one of the tallest guys on campus, and 3) the best lacrosse player on the team.

You haven't spoken a single word to him but that doesn't stop him from grinning at you, flipping shaggy hair from his face, and chanting a low, "Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun!"

"Are you god damn joking me?" You ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Hell no!"

"I have shotgunned a beer literally once in my life, and at least half of it ended up on my shirt."

"That's alright," Mike's smile shrinks to a smirk. "We're all about getting chicks wet in Pike."

Face falling, you scoff, "Yeah, okay, I'm leaving."

You sidestep him, cracking open the beer, but he follows close behind you. It makes a little bit of fear spike in your gut—everyone knows the horror stories that accompany many fraternities—but you're mostly just annoyed.

"Hey, what's your name again?"

Again. As if you've actually formally met before.

"Why do you care?"

Mike does not hesitate when he answers, "'Cause you look like you're having a shit time here, and I'd like to change that."

You roll your eyes, let your head loll over your shoulder to look at him again. If you're being honest with yourself, he's kind of extremely hot with his undercut and flippy hair, not to mention the stubble that's grown out just enough to make you think thoughts for a split second.

"A noble cause," you quip. "Truly."

He chuckles, watching too closely as you take a sip of your beer.

"So? Name?"

After too big of a swallow, you answer him, and light green eyes brighten a little.

"Oh, you're Hitch's friend, right?"

Of course that would be your only identifier on campus. Hitch is insanely pretty and very outgoing. It makes sense that people just know you as her tag-along.

It doesn't stop you from feeling slightly offended, though.

"Yeah, and you're Erwin's friend, right?"

"Among other things," he snorts. "Mike Zacharias." He holds out a massive hand that you eye before taking, figure you shouldn't be too much of a bitch and make a bad impression on the most highly regarded frat at the college.

"I know who you are, dude. Not many people don't."

"Aw, flatterer."

That grin is back on his face, lopsided and far too charming, and you definitely need to get away from him before you down a couple more beers.

"Freshman?" He pries, and somehow you wind up at the staircase, leaning against the wall and praying he'll just stand beside you instead of caging you in.

He does, and you let out a breath of relief.

"Sophomore."

His eyebrows shoot up for a second. "Fuck, you've made it through a whole year flying under my radar?"

You give him a wholly unimpressed look. "Wow, you really know what to say to a girl, don't you?"

"That came off as shitty, sorry. I just mean, like, you're super cute. Feel like I would have committed you to memory if I'd seen you."

Your face heats up probably more than it ever has in your life, but you still snap, "We haven't had a single class together, I never go to your games, and this is the first Pike party I've been to."

Mike nods. "Ah, that explains it. Just haven't given anyone a chance to notice you."

"Sure, let's go with that."

Another several sips. You hiss at the taste, and Mike laughs.

"Can't handle beer?"

"Can't handle shitty beer."

"Ouch. Want me to grab you something else?"

He really doesn't seem to understand the warnings all girls have heard over the years. That, or he just doesn't care. You don't know him well enough to pass that kind of judgement.

"Uh, no. I always make my own drinks at parties."

"That's understandable." Except it isn't. He doesn't have a clue.

"Well, you can go grab one, and I'll just finish this one for you. Don't want it to go to waste."

It's your turn to smirk now. "That desperate to swap spit, Zacharias?"

"Like this?" He laughs through his nose. "Nah. But I can think of other ways."

"We've been talking for literally two minutes."

"I'm perfectly capable of making decisions in two minutes."

"Not any good ones obviously."

Tilting his head, Mike thinks out loud, "Can't tell if that's an insult aimed at me or yourself."

"Take it however you want. I don't really care."

His eyes glint with amusement. There's no way you're escaping this any time soon.

Long, thick fingers close around the top of your can, and he gently tugs it out of your hand then keeps those eyes locked with yours as he takes a sip.

"Gross." You try to keep the teasing tone from your voice.

"Just go get another drink."

You actually listen, mostly to get away from him but also because you could go for something easier to stomach.

A game of King's Cup is going on in the kitchen, a five obviously being drawn because everyone suddenly pantomimes holding a steering wheel. It's surprisingly fun to watch, so you post up next to the counter after mixing orange and pineapple juice with rum.

"Four's whores!"

"Categories! Different beers!"

"Seven heaven!"

"Ayyy, waterfall!"

You shake your head as everyone drinks for way too long. Some people are already swaying in circles where they're sitting. Others are simply red-faced.

"Wanna play?"

"Jesus! You came outta nowhere."

Mike looks too smug for your liking, but doesn't say anything, just crushes the empty can in his hand and throws it into the trashcan next to the back door, all gooseneck and perfect arch.

"Let me guess—you're reigning champ at beer pong."

"Nah," he waves you off. "That's Erwin and Nile. King's Cup however…"

"King's Cup isn't even a competition. It's just flipping cards and getting fucked up."

"Well, yeah, but it's still fun."

You let out a heavy sigh, eyes still trained on the game going on, then concede, "Once this one is over, I'll play. Just to get you off my back." And because he won't have the chance to talk to you for the duration of the game.

"Excellent."

You manage to finish your drink by the time the round ends, have to rush to make another as Mike strides over to the table and steals the two seats that have been vacated. They're right across from each other. You don't know if you'd prefer that or just sitting next to him so he can't stare at you.

Sauntering over, you plop down and place your drink in front of you. The guy to your right is quick to introduce himself with hooded eyes and a self-assured smile. You give him basically the same treatment that you've been giving Mike, making him pout and turn away as a freckled girl deals out the cards.

It's fast paced, and you find yourself drinking more than you'd planned. Mike picks you as his buddy (of course), and the guy next to you makes everyone drink for nearly thirty seconds straight when he pulls an ace.

Still, you find yourself laughing as people scream and curse. You catch eyes with Mike often, and as you finish your second drink, he begins looking very attractive. More attractive than before. So attractive that you allow him to pour your third cup.

"If you roofied this, I'm gonna be real upset with you," you tell him just before taking a sip. He added more rum than you did, but that doesn't surprise you.

"Hey, one of Pike's virtues is being a gentleman."

As soon as he says it, about seven people around the table shout, "Pi Kappa Alpha!" like some kind of sports team, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts.

You're drunk after this game. And, then you make another drink and get plastered. Meandering around the rest of the party, bodies begin to blur together, the music fades in and out, and you barely know what you're saying to Mike anymore as he follows you close behind in the same state. For every drink you've had, he's had two, and now he's walking around with a cup full of jungle juice nodding at his brothers, smiling at all the girls who look at him.

His room is downstairs unlike most of the others, right at the end of the hallway. It makes it far too easy to end up inside, but as soon as the door closes and his huge hands find your hips, your world disappears entirely.

The first thing you feel when you wake up is a nauseating pounding in your head. The second is a very large body behind you.

God dammit, you think, trying to recall the events of the night before.

Pi Kappa Alpha. Hitch left you, so you hung out with… Mike Zacharias? From the lacrosse team?

Frowning, you try to look over your shoulder, but all you can really see is a head of hair. However, you can feel the coarseness of his beard against your bare shoulder, and that's enough to solidify that it is indeed Mike behind you.

Shifting some brings more of your physical state to your attention—your naked chest under the blanket, the way your legs are pressed together, your pussy between your thighs… swollen? Jesus, what did he do to you last night? You can also feel something dry and crusty on your stomach which is both disgusting and relieving. At least he had enough sense to pull out.

Luckily, his arm isn't wrapped around you which makes it much easier to sit up on your elbow. It takes you a while to locate your clothes around the room from where you are, and even then, all you can find are your shorts, shoes, and bra. You peer around, trying not to groan at the headache threatening to make you black the fuck out all over again, but that pounding as well as the nauseating churning of your stomach is making it difficult.

You slide out of the bed, basically crawling to the little pile of discarded clothes. As you fumble with fastening your bra, you glance around one more time in search of your shirt and cardigan, but it’s no use. What you do see, however, is the obnoxious Hawaiian shirt Mike had been wearing the night before, and well… You’d rather not leave the Pike house topless, so…

Snatching it off the floor, you slip your arms through the giant sleeves and somehow manage to button up about half of it. Then, you’re flying out the door, desperate to be in your own dorm, curled over your own toilet, in your own clothes.

Oh, thank god his room wasn’t upstairs, you praise, trying to remember the way to the front door. There are numerous bodies and tipped over cups to navigate through, and you cringe at the various odors that assault your senses.

You see the door from across the room, so close and getting closer as you try not to trip over anything, but as you pass the kitchen, you hear a smooth, familiar voice greet, “Good morning,” in a smug way.

Erwin is leaning against a counter, smirking over a steaming cup of coffee. He’s wearing only sweatpants, his hair is a little mussed, and for a split second, you understand why he pulls so many girls.

Still, you roll your eyes and continue moving—a classic DNE situation, but the frat boy doesn’t seem to get the message, instead calling out, “Nice shirt!”

“Fuck off, Smith,” is the only thing you utter before leaving, slamming the door behind you.

Mike easily catches the frisbee that spins directly at his face then quickly throws it back to try and catch Nile off guard. It works, and the brunet curses and has to go running after the flying disc.

A few girls watching from the nearby fountain clap and yell his name, wriggling fingers in a wave as if he can actually see that far away. Mike gives one wave of his own hand then turns back to the grass where Nile is jogging back to his place.

“You did that on purpose, you asshole!” He spits.

Mike shrugs his shoulders, yells back, “Get better at frisbee, and you won’t have this problem!”

Nile throws the plastic so hard that it flies off toward the fountain, making all those girls scream and dive for cover.

“Yeah, I’m not getting that,” Mike shakes his head. Nile drags his fingers down his angular face before setting off on yet another trek, apologizing profusely then standing around to flirt like usual.

Blowing hair out of his face, Mike considers joining his brother, but before he can, he sees a familiar figure turning on the sidewalk, about to pass the fountain and head toward Hartley Hall.

His feet are moving before he really registers it, glad his long legs can carry him quickly even at a walk. Mike calls out when he’s a couple yards away, and you turn to him, eyes growing wide before you start to move faster.

He can just barely make out the words, “Nope. Not doing this,” and chuckles, catching up the rest of the way.

“Hey, chill, I just wanna talk.”

You turn to look at him, head tilted up, squinting against the sun, and Mike has never been more thankful for his height because you look so god damn cute all small and irritated with him.

“What is there to talk about? I don’t even remember anything.”

“Yeah, neither do I,” he says, lacing fingers together behind his head. “Shame.”

“Whatever.”

Mike tries and fails to hide a snort, nods at Nile as you both pass him and the gaggle of girls surrounding him. Mike has no doubt his friend will get at least one phone number out of it, if not all of them.

“Did you at least have a good time before you blacked out?” He ventures.

You shrug your shoulders, hitch your backpack up a little higher. “Maybe. But, if I was just around you the whole time, probably not.”

“Aw, come on! What did I ever do to you?”

“You need a list?”

Mike nods. “Would probably help.”

“For brevity's sake, I’ll just say that you started the night trying to get a literal stranger to shotgun a beer and ended the night fucking said stranger and… Not holding back, apparently.” Mike frowns, about to ask what you mean by that, but you elaborate before he can. Voice dropping, you question, “Do you have any idea how fucking sore I’ve been for the last few days? What the fuck do you even have hidden in those stupid shorts?”

“I’d be happy to show you again.” He grins sideways, and when you shoot him a venomous look, he figures it’s time to change the subject. “Anyway, I may have done that and more, but you’re the thief.”

“Excuse me?”

Mike tries to sound nonchalant as he accuses, “Stole my shirt and everything." Honestly, he's a little upset that he didn’t actually get to see you wearing it.

“I—”

“That’s my favorite shirt, you know?”

You laugh. Finally. “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.”

“That shirt is fucking heinous, okay? You’re lucky I didn’t burn it.”

“Does that mean I can have it back?”

You make a little noise in your throat, something between a grumble and a growl, but you check your phone and tell him, “Fine. My next class isn’t for another couple of hours, so just…Follow me.”

It takes immense effort to not skip to your dorm like a little kid, but Mike is excited. He’s not gonna try anything weird, but just seeing your space? He’ll be able to get a better feel for you. So far, all he knows is that you live and breathe sarcasm and can’t handle your liquor well. It’s enough to get him a little more than interested, but it’s not enough to go off of.

The two of you gain a few looks as you make your way through the shared study space of the dormitory, heads turning, eyebrows raising in recognition. No one should be all that surprised; it’s not like Mike and Erwin haven’t frequented a lot of these rooms.

You lead him down a hallway, and Mike looks at all the little dry-erase intro boards hanging outside of every door. He’s a little surprised to see that the one by yours isn’t blank. Your name is written in bubble letters, surrounded by little hearts, and when you catch him looking at it, you’re quick to tell him, “Hitch.”

“Ah. Of course.”

He follows you inside, staying by the door to not invade too much of your space, but he doesn’t even try to be subtle as he looks around the small room. Pennant for the college hung up over a cork bulletin board that’s a mess of photos and sticky notes. Cluttered desk with just enough of it cleared to fit a laptop. Tiny succulents on the window sill. Double bed covered in a quilt. And there, in the open closet, Mike catches sight of his shirt—pastel pink and littered with palm trees.

After dropping your backpack on your bed, you step over to the hanging clothes and grab it, muttering, “Ridiculous,” as you hand it over.

Mike laughs as he slings it over his shoulder. “You know what’ll make you hate it even more?” You quirk an eyebrow, probably doubting that anything could, but your entire face falls when he informs you, “I have matching shorts to go with it.”

“No you do not.”

“Definitely do.”

“That should be a crime. You should be arrested.”

He chuckles, has a retort on the tip of his tongue, but something catches his eye—a bookshelf tucked away in the corner by your bed overflowing with novels and knick-knacks. Mike sees a particularly thick paperback, recognizing the black background and small desert picture on the spine.

“Bro!” He walks over, plants a hand in the middle of your mattress, and reaches for it. “Is this fucking Dune?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“This is, like, my favorite book, dude.”

“Seriously?” You sound just as disbelieving as you do disinterested.

Mike begins flipping through it, scanning over highlighted passages as he nods. “I have the whole series back home, but I only brought this one and Messiah with me to college.”

He straightens up but keeps a knee on the edge of the bed, and you plop down to sit on it, watching him closely as he continues to look over the notes scribbled in the margins.

“I had to read it in high school," you tell him. "Then my cousin gave me a lot of the books after I talked with him about it one time. I haven’t gotten around to reading them, though.”

“You really should,” Mike urges. “I mean, I know you probably have a shit ton of reading for classes, but if you ever get the chance, you should at least read the next two.”

“You some kind of closet nerd, Zacharias?”

“Kinda,” he admits, putting the book back on the shelf only to grab a worn copy of Fellowship of the Ring. “I mean, Erwin and a few others are well aware, but I don’t really broadcast it.”

“Not good for the cool guy image?”

“Nah, people are just more interested in other things,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on the tiny print.

“Mike Zacharias,” his gaze flicks to you as you laugh quietly. “Lacrosse god and big fucking geek.”

He closes the book and uses it to lightly hit you on the top of the head with it. You half-heartedly smack him right in his abs only to push against the muscle harder and ask, “Jesus Christ, what do you have under there?”

“You know, that’s the second time you’ve asked what I have under my clothes,” he points out, a little too satisfied. “Better watch out, or I’m gonna start getting ideas.”

You huff, but your hand is definitely still on his stomach, unmoving but warm through his shirt. Mike told himself he wouldn’t do anything weird once he got here, but you’re already on the bed and touching him, and he’d kind of really like to have this particular experience while sober, so he very slowly takes your wrist and moves it away.

It makes you look up at him, a question dancing in your eyes as your lips part. Mike makes sure his own stare conveys everything he’s thinking, wishes he could just transplant his thoughts into your brain so that he can put you a little more at ease around him.

You’re onto him, though, tugging your hand from his grip and blinking a few times. He figures you’re about to point to the door and tell him to take his fucking Hawaiian shirt and leave.

Instead, you pull on the fabric covering his ribs so that he loses his balance and has to catch himself before crashing into you. It puts his face level with yours, and you take the opportunity to kiss him—hard, desperate, and a little confused judging by the way you’re frowning.

Mike grunts, holding himself up with the arm on the side of your hips then uses the other to slide under the thigh closest to him and pull you further onto the bed. He’s straddling you in no time, up on his knees so that he doesn’t crush you.

Hearing the sound of shoes hitting the ground, he tugs his shirt off over his head, and then he’s curling over you again. Your mouths grow slick with spit. He slides his tongue past your lips, and you arch into him, fingers tangling in his hair. Mike pushes you back down so that he can strip you down to your bra and panties then takes the time to rid himself of his shoes and shorts.

“Oh, fuck,” he hears you breathe, and when he glances up at you, he finds you staring at what he knows is an intimidatingly large bulge under his boxer briefs. “It makes sense now—the soreness.”

Mike chuckles, slots his forearms on either side of your head and mutters, “Yeah, sorry about that.”

You lick his lips and he bites yours, bodies clashing together as he grinds himself against your covered pussy. Eventually Mike is able to snake a hand down your body, making sure to brush over your ribs so that you squirm beneath him. Fuck, he already loves the way you squirm. And, when he moves your panties to the side and teases your little hole, already wet just from making out, Mike discovers that he loves the way you moan too.

He’s slow as he pushes a finger in, groaning when you clench around it. Pumping it in and out, he gently works you open and wonders if he was courteous enough to do this the other night. He hopes he was.

You spread your legs for him, start bucking into his hand, especially when he hits that special spot inside you.

“Fuck, fuck, fu—” You grab his face, bringing it close to yours again so that you can muffle curses against his lips.

When Mike adds a second finger, your jaw drops, and you start to tremble.

“Too much?” He asks.

You shake your head, stutter a breathy, “N-no. Just—ah—slow. Go slow.”

He moves to suck on your neck, promising, “I will.”

Mike waits until you’re dripping into his palm and spread about as widely as you can be underneath him. Then, and only then does he shimmy out of his underwear and question, “Condom?”

“Bookshelf,” you huff. “In the jewelry box.”

When he opens it, a little ballerina spins, and Mike has to laugh at the ridiculousness of it. “That’s twisted.”

“Shut up.”

He grabs one of the gold packages and tears it open, then rolls the latex over his cock and discards the wrapper somewhere.

Mike only gives you his tip first, sits right inside your entrance so that you can squeeze him and get used to the feeling before he pushes in any more. You barely shift your hips back and forth, like an experiment. It’s just enough for Mike to see slick coating the end of the condom, and he nearly starts drooling.

He presses in a little more, appreciates the way your eyes roll into the back of your head, then adds one more inch.

“Jesus Christ.” Your breaths are coming in short gasps, words slurring together. He’s not even halfway in, and you’re already fucked out.

Your cunt is spasming around him, and Mike tries to get you to relax more by lightly rubbing your clit with the pad of his thumb.

You leak around him, pussy slowly but surely opening up a little more so that he can slide in further. He gives a few shallow thrusts that make you whine, then reaches up to grab one of your pillows which only sends him deeper.

“God dam—”

Mike lifts you and shoves the pillow under your hips, smiles in a way he’s pretty sure you hate, then jokes, “Better to fuck you with, my dear.”

“In...sufferable…” The annoyed tone is lost when you cry out. Mike buries himself as far as he can without hurting you. He isn’t quite balls deep, but you feel so fucking good that he doesn’t even mind.

Starting a steady rhythm that has every upthrust dragging over your g-spot, Mike watches through foggy eyes as your mouth opens and closes, chest rising with stuttering breaths before you exhale and moan. He dips his thumb between your folds to gather a little bit of slick and return it to your clit. The circular motion makes you arch again, and Mike abandons the little bud for just a moment so that he can unclasp your bra and pull it off. The sight of your tits bouncing in time with his thrusts almost does him in, but he holds back, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment to gather himself.

You’re just clamping around him so perfectly, pussy drooling and creaming on his cock, and Mike is not a quickshot, but for you—

He pulls out all at once, flips you so that you’re on hands and knees, then spreads you open to lick into you from behind.

“Holy—”

Mike’s cock is throbbing where it bobs against his stomach, but he can ignore it for the most part, focused on eating you out, sucking at your messy lips then dragging the flat of his tongue over your hole. He moves his face back and forth, wants to leave his mark on you in the form of stubble burn between your legs.

“Mike, Mike, fuck, please.”

He’s positive you can’t actually hear him when he teases, “Please what?” right into the crevice of your ass.

You growl, push against him, and swallow enough pride to beg, “Please fuck me.”

Biting his lip, Mike straightens up enough to watch his fingers disappear into your pussy. One, two, then a third that makes your messy entrance stretch for him. He lowers his face again, feather light licks around your sensitive hole, and when he twists his wrist so that he can tap on your spot, you come immediately.

A mixture of slick and squirt drips from your cunt and soaks into your quilt. Mike pushes more out as he continues to finger fuck you, humming at the way your arms give out and you fall against the mattress.

This is the perfect position for him. He replaces his wet fingers with his cock and ruts into you quickly, chasing after his own impending orgasm. Pretty little whimpers fall from your lips, fuck drunk as you babble, “Oh, god, Mike, Mike, fuck…”

He’s gripping your hips too tightly, pulling you back against him, shoving his cock deeper and deeper until he finally comes with a shudder and a low groan.

Mike pants for a few seconds, then leans down to press a few kisses to your spine, but instead of the usual happy sighs he gets from most girls, you just roll your shoulders and mutter, “Stop that.”

He does, then pulls out, takes a second to stare at your pussy—worked open from his size and still dripping. It would make a very pretty picture, but Mike wouldn’t dare try that with you.

You roll onto your back, a huff of air leaving your lungs as you scrub a hand over your face then tilt your head to him. It looks like you have something to say, but you just chew on your bottom lip, eyes moving from Mike to the door.

And, he can take a hint. You don’t have to say it.

With a self-deprecating snort, he pulls the condom off, tying it then tossing it into the trashcan by your bed.

“Yeah, okay,” he nods. “Let me just…” Mike tugs his clothes back on, kindly tosses you your top so that you can cover yourself like you obviously want to.

He makes sure to grab the Hawaiian shirt that brought him here in the first place, tossing it over his shoulder then striding to the door.

Chancing one more glance at you, you force a smile and try to pad his bruised ego. “Don’t worry, it was good. You were good. It’s just not gonna happen again.”

Mike fights a smirk, raises a hand in a wave, then steps out.

Not gonna happen again, he chuckles to himself. Yeah, right.

You don't understand how this keeps happening, how you keep ending up in bed with Mike fucking Zacharias.

This time you had gone to the disgusting bar right off campus, got one whole drink in your system before the familiar trio walked in. They were all in khakis and pastels—Erwin in blue, Nile in yellow, Mike in pink. Again.

You actually slammed your head down on the bartop because despite how basic he looked in his light polo, Mike was still hot.

Is still hot.

Back at the Pi Kappa Alpha house, you're a mess of limbs on his bed. You take immense pleasure in tugging his shirt off, and once his arms are free again, he's lifting the hem of your little skirt and mouthing over your thong.

You're more than tipsy after a couple more drinks but nowhere near as drunk as you were the first night. It hadn't taken much convincing from Erwin for you and Hitch to play pool with them, and when Mike had come up behind you to help you line up your shot, you knew you were a goner.

While he's busy between your legs, you take off your shirt and bra. Green eyes flick up as soon as you toss both articles on to the floor, and without any hesitation, Mike reaches up to grope your tits.

He's clumsy and distracted as he tongues over the warmth pooling in your underwear, squeezing plump flesh and pinching your nipple so that you whine and push your hips further into his face.

Mike groans, just as drunk if not more so. He's messy as he kisses your thighs, nearly rips your thong when he pulls it off of you.

His tongue feels good, too fucking good as he laves over your entrance, soothing an ache that isn't quite there anymore but definitely was a few days ago.

"Taste so fucking good," he grumbles, slurping and sucking and making you squeeze your thighs around his head.

"Okay," you pant. "Okay, okay." You grab him by the hair and lift his head from you, stomach flipping at the sight of the bottom half of his face absolutely covered in slick.

God dammit, why is he so sexy?

Your mouth waters, and the thought of possibly giving him head this time crosses your mind. You're just inebriated enough to stay relaxed, didn't drink to the point of throwing up, and he has gone down on you the last two times so...

Lizard brain taking over, you sit up, tell him to flip over, then start making your way down his body.

Mike grabs you before you can turn to face him, fingers digging into your thighs and pulling you down to sit on his face.

"Fucking—I'm trying to blow you, for Christ's sake."

He moves his head just enough to tell you, "So? You can do that while I do this."

And, he's not wrong. It just means that you're gonna get distracted.

For a while, all you can really do is control your breathing and undulate on top of him, but eventually you fall to your elbows and lick up his shaft from base to tip.

Mike really does have a nice cock—a beautiful cock—bigger than you've ever taken in terms of both length and girth, and veiny in the perfect way. Even his balls make your pussy throb, large and round, the right just slightly bigger than the left and now dripping with saliva as you lower your mouth further and further onto his cock.

The feeling of his tongue buried in your cunt is making you delirious, eyes rolling, muscles going slack as you gurgle around the tip hitting the back of your throat.

Mike groans into you, his legs starting to shake, and you assume in your half aware state that he's trying to not just skull fuck you into oblivion.

You know you're making a mess, both on his face and on his cock. The fingertips that have been holding you open shift, one of them slipping into your clenching hole, and your hips begin to move on their own volition, riding what he'll give you while moving your tongue back and forth.

You've only taken about half of him, doubt you can take any more. He's hot and heavy in your mouth, and when you pull off to breathe, you can taste pre cum on the back of your tongue.

It triggers something in you, makes you raise up and clumsily turn around so that you can work him inside of you.

Mike groans a long, "Fuuuck," and immediately starts thrusting upward.

You're lucky you're as wet as you are, but the burn that comes with getting so stretched out still makes you hiss. You brace yourself on his broad chest, feeling the dampness of sweat forming a sheen on him, and your own body starts to feel too hot.

You had wanted to ride him to feel in control of the situation for once, but you quickly realize it's not gonna happen, Mike gripping your hips and moving you how he sees fit.

He's raw this time, a thought that should scare you, but he feels so good even through the discomfort. Every vein and ridge hits all the sweet spots inside of you, the flared head of his cock smooth as it presses just where you need it to.

You're squirting again—he just seems to be able to fuck it out of you. It's not the high you're looking for, but the release in pressure still feels divine.

Mike seems to enjoy it too because he looks down at where you're connected, swears at the way you gush on his cock, then starts swiping fingers over your clit so quickly it almost hurts.

More fluid leaks from you, and Mike breathes a low, "Come on, baby, come on, 'm gonna fuck you dry tonight."

Hearing him talk like that—his hand rubbing over your overstimulated clit, his thick cock threatening to split you in two—causes heat to travel up your legs and down your arms until it settles in your stomach and floods you.

You cry out, stars and tears behind your eyes as Mike keeps going, taking everything he can from you until he's laying in a huge wet spot in his bed.

He lifts you just in time to shoot cum upward on your chest, white splattering then dripping down in strands to pool on his stomach.

You stare down at him, mouth hanging open and find him looking up at you with the same expression.

It's hands down the best sex you've ever had, but you're not about to tell him that. Instead, you dismount him like the fucking horse he is and stand on weak legs, actually have to lean on the bed for support.

"Just stay the night." His voice is deep and full of gravel. It's entirely too hot.

"Absolutely not." You shake your head, grab your shirt and his boxers then ask, "Where's the nearest bathroom?"

"Down the hall on the right, but you don't have to sneak out the window or anything. Just use the front door if you're tryin’ to run away."

You can't help but snort. Stupid. "I'm not trying to escape, dummy. I just need to pee."

"Oh. Right."

You slip out of the room, hoping it's late enough for everyone to be asleep, but you have no such luck as the door to the bathroom opens and fucking Erwin steps out.

He hums, looking you over for a moment as his lips lift on one side.

"Don't say anything," you grit through your teeth.

He holds his hands up in surrender, chuckles, acting all innocent. "Wasn't going to."

You squint, not believing him for a second, then move around him to get to the bathroom. Before you can shut the door, you hear him mutter, "Another one bites the dust," and consider running out and strangling him.

"Please please please come with me to this game," Hitch begs, her hands clasped together, imploring eyes wide and doe-like.

"No. You have plenty of other friends to go with. You don't need me there."

"But, I want you to be there. It's gonna be such a good match. Rival schools and all that."

You roll your eyes. "Hitch, in all the time you've known me, have you ever seen me give a single fuck about sports?"

"No, but you'll finally get to see Mike and Erwin and Nile play."

"All the more reason not to go."

"Do you not like them or something? Why wouldn't you like them? Everybody likes them!"

She doesn't know, and you don't want her to. She had been too caught up with that Marlowe kid at the party, then was kept busy playing pool with Nile to see you and Mike slip out of the bar together.

It's the only secret you've ever wanted to keep from her. You will take it to the grave.

"I just… I just don't, okay? I get a… Sleazy vibe from all of them."

You really don't. Not exactly. You're not a big fan of the 'fuck-every-chick-on-capus' mentality, but most college boys think like that. Only difference is these three can actually achieve it.

Hitch crosses her arms over her chest and gives you a look you've seen on your mother's face many times, usually when she has a point to prove.

"You know I'm just gonna keep bothering you until you come to one, so why not just get it outta the way?"

And, there's that point.

"Ugh." You know she's right, and you really can't put up with this all semester. "Fine, but I'm gonna bitch the entire time."

Hitch squeals and claps, bouncing where she stands. "Yes! Wouldn't have it any other way."

You dress in school colors, put your hair up so that it won't be on your neck as the sun beats down, then take Hitch's little hatchback to the field. You try to talk her into sitting toward the back of the crowd that's gathered on the bleachers, but she just pulls you to the front without acknowledging your request.

Even with the helmets, you can easily make out who's who, mostly because of their size. Mike and Erwin are doing some kind of pregame ritual where they hit their sticks together, shout something, and chest bump. It's the most alpha thing you've ever fucking seen and makes you question why you ever thought screwing one of them was a good idea.

To be fair, you never really did think it was a good idea. It just kind of happened. Three times.

But, it needs to stop.

You repeat that thought to yourself as you watch Mike sprint across the field and launch the ball into the goal several times. You repeat it as he dances around his opponents with ease, quick footwork until he can throw them off. You repeat it as he stands on the sidelines and takes his helmet off to shake out sweaty hair and squirt water into his mouth.

And, none of it really helps. Mike is pretty incredible on the field, especially with Erwin and Nile backing him up. Everyone in the stands is screaming, yelling their names and chanting. It's a little contagious, you have to admit. You get as far as clapping but refuse to actually cheer.

At some point, Erwin jogs over to the bleachers and waves his arms for everyone to get louder, and they sure do. Even through his helmet, you can see his sparkling white smile, and your own lips curl up as you shake your head at him. Unbelievable. He has all these people at his beck and call.

Erwin has to get back on the field, though, fueled by the crowd like the other nine players. They end up pulling ahead of the other team and finishing the game eleven to seven.

Naturally, Erwin announces a party at the Pike house, and naturally, Hitch drags you to it.

This one is even bigger than the last. It offends every one of your senses—too loud, alcohol permeating the air, bad drinks, worse dancing, and strangers rubbing against you as you pass them.

You give up on your beer before you’re even halfway through with it, just set the can on one of the counters and start milling around. You’d rather be anywhere else but here. Your head hurts from the game earlier, baking in the sun and not drinking enough water. Should’ve taken an Advil… And some Benadryl. Hitch wouldn’t have been able to bring you here if you’d been unconscious.

All of the lacrosse team is there, flanked with guys who won’t stop slapping them on their backs and girls who won’t stop batting their eyes and squeezing their biceps. It’s comical, really, the fairweather trend. There’s no way this would be happening if they’d lost their last three games. Instead, the team would be getting harassed and pestered, not so subtle comments about practicing more and replacing members. You’ve seen it all before.

Leaning against a wall, you watch it all unfold. It’s probably the most entertaining thing at the party other than the group of sorority girls dancing on a table. Things are getting out of hand already, and you would prefer not be here for the aftermath, but just as you're about to leave, Mike breaks away from the group and strides over to you.

“Hey, didn’t expect to see you.” He takes a sip from his cup, smiling around the rim.

You use your usual excuse: “Hitch,” and he nods.

“Right. Did you watch the game today?”

Crossing your arms, you mumble a, “Yes,” that Mike can’t hear but can definitely see.

He beams then asks, “You gonna tell me I played well? ‘Cause I did.” He’s all cocksure and giddy, and it makes your body run hot in a few different ways.

“I don’t think you need anyone else fawning over you,” you say with a condescending laugh.

“You mean you don’t want me to flex for you?”

“I’m leaving. Right now." When you push past him a little too roughly, it causes him to drop his cup, and your shirt is suddenly plastered to your chest and stomach. The white isn’t discolored, which leads you to believe, “Fuck, is this just straight vodka?”

“No, Christ,” he cringes at your wet state, looking genuinely apologetic. “It’s just water. Sorry.”

You scrunch your top up to wring it out, wondering what he’s doing drinking water instead of liquor, but you’re not about to pick on him for staying hydrated.

“It’s fine. I was about to leave anyway.”

He’s quick to stop you with a, “No, don’t. Just… change into one of my shirts or something."

Narrowing your eyes, you contemplate how many ways this can go wrong, how much you should not allow this, and even go as far as accusing, "You're just trying to get me in your room again."

"You wanna stay in a wet shirt?" Not really. "Come on."

He jerks his head toward the hallway, and you end up following him, grumbling the whole time because you swear to God if you end up on your back for him again, you're going to be very upset with yourself.

Mike beelines it for his dresser as soon as you're in the room, much quieter than the rager outside. He digs around in it, flipping all the way to the bottom then pulls out a heather gray tee.

"It'll probably still be a little big, but it's from high school, so you shouldn't drown in it."

He tosses it to you then, to your surprise, turns back to the wall to give you the privacy to change. You eye him the whole time, peeling off your top as well as your bra since it soaked through. His shirt still covers your little shorts, and you assume you look a lot like one of those sorority girls, but it's good enough, has that super soft feeling from being worn too much.

"Thanks. You can, uh… You can turn around now."

Mike looks over his shoulder, like he's making sure you're decent, then turns around fully.

"I was trying to get outta there anyway. Spilling a drink on you was a good excuse."

You open your mouth, choking on a scoff, then ask, "Did you do that on purpose?"

"No! It really was an accident. I'm glad it was just water, but I still feel bad."

You're squinting at him, but now you're curious about something else.

"Why'd you wanna get away from the party?"

Sighing, Mike shows a tired smile. "Honestly, I'm still worn out from the game. I'm already sore and covered in these god damn bruises. I just wanna relax."

"If you're covered in bruises, I can't imagine how the other team feels. You smacked the shit outta some of 'em."

"So, you were watching."

"I may have glanced up once or twice," you lie. "Anyway, why don't you just hide out in here?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "Erwin insisted I show my face, and I didn't want him to give me shit about being a recluse."

You can relate. It's why Hitch drags you everywhere. You wouldn't even leave your dorm for classes if you didn't have to.

Still. "Dude. You're definitely not a recluse. You're fucking everywhere. All the time."

"So? I can get tired too."

He's got a point.

"Can we just chill in here for a while?" He asks you.

"Why do you need me to chill? You basically just said you needed a break from social interaction."

"Yeah, but not all social interaction," he corrects with a small grin. "Please? I've got movies and video games, Zelda and shit."

Again, the contemplation kicks in, all the pros and cons. You know very well what this can (will) lead to, but you also want to escape the party. And, if Hitch whines about you leaving, you can tell her you were there the whole time. Not like it's a lie.

"Fine, but I have some stipulations."

"Oh, do you?"

"I do."

Mike waves a hand for you to go on. "Let's hear 'em then."

Holding up one finger, you tell him, "You have to let me snoop around your room—" he laughs. You lift another finger, "—and we are not, under any circumstances, having sex."

"Deal."

You tilt your head, taken aback at how quick he is to agree. "Wait, seriously?"

"Seriously. Go ahead. I'll pull up Hulu."

You hum, still suspicious, but start making your rounds, taking in photos from what you assume to be the high school soccer team he played on, then a fishing trip with Erwin, a middle-aged couple with a dog, and some pinned up tickets to sporting events he's attended.

He has a bookshelf against a wall, textbooks at eye level, but the top and bottom shelves are filled with sci-fi and fantasy novels that make you smile. His TV is fairly large, big enough to see the picture from his bed which is also sizable and draped with a plush comforter. The last thing that catches your eye is his closet, halfway open and full of jerseys and Polos. A few different pairs of shoes sit at the bottom, but pushed all the way in the corner are a few boxes of fucking Magic the Gathering cards.

"Oh, man. You really are a closet nerd. Like, literally."

"Huh?" Mike looks over at where you're kneeling, realizes what you're looking at and actually sounds self-conscious when he admits, "Yeah, uh, I wasn't joking the other day."

"I've never played—too technical for me—but my friends in high school did."

"There are baseball cards back there too if that makes me any cooler."

"It doesn't," you say bluntly before straightening up and reaching to shut the door to his room. Plopping down on the floor next to him (where he was smart enough to sit), you add, "But even I can admit it's kind of endearing."

"Oh yeah?" He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, that stupid lopsided grin on his too-handsome face.

"Don't get cocky, Zacharias."

"You wouldn't let me if I wanted to."

Both of you agree to a Batman movie, and you make yourself comfortable, kicking your sandals off and leaning against the bed behind you. You're a little too aware of Mike's body beside yours, but you're able to ignore it for the most part, keeping a few inches between your arms and legs. Of course, he still brushes against you when the movie ends and he takes the time to stretch. His shoulders roll, making his shirt strain over his back, and when he holds his arms out, linked at his fingers, you can't help but take a quick look at his bulging biceps.

"Fuck, I'm gonna feel like garbage tomorrow," he complains. You can see the bruises littering his arms, some of them thick lines while others are almost perfectly circular from where he was hit with the end of a lacrosse stick.

"You have any classes?" You ask.

"Just my ten o'clock and three o'clock."

You make a noise of acknowledgement then fall silent. You're not sure how to hold a conversation with him that isn't sarcastic or snippy since you haven't actually done a lot of talking in the first place.

"Sucks," is all you can come up with.

"It's alright. I've probably dealt with worse."

"Probably?"

"Well, nothing really comes to mind, but I'm sure I have."

You should get going. It's late, and you have a nine AM tomorrow. Plus, the longer you sit next to Mike, the more ideas pop up in your head. Dirty ideas. Ideas that will leave you disappointed in yourself.

"Well, I'm gonna head back. This has been…" You're unsure of what word to use, don't want to get his hopes up by saying 'fun'.

Mike figures you out and offers, "Tolerable?"

"Yeah, we can go with that. I'll get your shirt back to you sometime soon."

Mike chuckles and gets to his feet. "Just whenever you can." He grabs your wet top from the ground and holds it out to you, then reaches for the door as you slip on your sandals.

You feel him close behind you, close enough for his chest to push against your back when you straighten up. His arm is pressing into your side, hand curled around the knob and twisting it, but he's unable to open the door as you let your head fall against it.

"God dammit."

"Hm?" You can tell he's leaning down because his breath falls just over your ear.

"I said we weren't—"

He cuts you off, "But, you want to."

He's too hot and too smooth, and you can’t stop yourself from turning around and breathing, "Yeah, I want to."

It's different tonight. Mike takes his time undressing you, kissing and sucking your neck, your collarbone, your nipples that pebble against his tongue. It's unnerving even as you squirm and moan.

He eats you out lazily, flattening his tongue against your folds then dipping into your slit so that he can slip into your twitching hole.

When he adds a finger, you immediately grind down on it, silently begging him to work you open enough to take his cock, but he doesn't move any faster, apparently content to just drive you insane.

You're nearly begging by the time he turns you on your side and moves to lay behind you, hiking your leg up and pushing most of his length inside of you in one faultless motion that makes you choke and sob his name.

That stretch is back, delicious as it is painful as he splits you open. His thrusts are the same slow pace, cock dragging against gummy walls as he drapes an arm over you to toy with your swollen clit.

It takes you both longer than usual to come, but when you do, your whole body trembles against him, and you have to suck in several deep breaths until you feel like your lungs start actually filling with air.

Mike paints your back with warm cum, groaning right in your ear as he rubs against you, his cock sliding easily up and down your skin and making more of a mess.

That unnerving feeling blooms in your chest again, crawls up into your throat.

Tonight had been too casual, too natural. The way you hung out and watched a movie was already a little strange. Him fucking you from behind, holding you tight against his body, was too tender. And, now, after he leaves to grab a wet towel and uses it to clean your back, you find yourself searching for words again only to come up with passionate—intimate.

And, words like that scare you.

[ n e x t ]

#miche zacharias x reader #mike zacharias x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #aot fanfiction #attack on titan fanfiction #mels prima vista #mels frat house

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