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thezombieprostitute · 3 months

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I know we may not know him too well but how about Dream Come True- Steve and 29 from the kiss prompts 😏

Hummingbird

Word Count: ~1300

A/N: This takes place a couple of years before Dream Come True. Ask is based on this post.

Warnings: Drugging of a character

Part 2

Series Masterlist

Steve had his best fake smile plastered on. He was hosting a party, he had to appear approachable and friendly, even if he didn’t feel like it. The conversations could be so boring and draining. His one reprieve for the night was that he was hosting the party at an art gallery. The last night of the display of one of his favorite artists. Every chance he got he was appreciating the art.

At least until he saw you. Steve knew everyone at the party, they’d been vetted by his team, but he didn’t know you. There was no recognition, no faint memory of ever seeing you before and Steve’s memory was better than most. Your dress was just shy of the quality he’d expect from his guests, indicating you weren’t in the higher echelons of the city’s social circles. You were definitely a party crasher who shouldn’t be here.

He should call security, have them discreetly take you away, but as he watches you he realizes that, unlike other party crashers, you’re not here for the people. You never take a glass of the expensive champagne offered to guests. You barely talk to anyone and excuse yourself from conversation quickly. You’re looking at the art. You’re flitting from piece to piece like a hummingbird and smiling at each one. You might be a party crasher, but you’ve clearly got good taste and good manners. He decides he’ll let you stay but keep an eye on you.

Pretty soon he realizes he can’t stop watching you. Your genuine joy with each new piece of art you look at is endearing. Especially as he keeps having to deal with fake smiles and false promises. It also makes your frown stand out even more.

You walked over to a man who appeared to be taking away a woman who’d drunk too much. While you hadn’t had any of the champagne, you couldn’t imagine it would get someone so drunk they could barely move. You approach, ignoring the glares the man gave you, and ask, “what happened?”

“It’s nothing,” the man replies. “She just had a little too much to drink. I’m just getting her home.”

“She doesn’t look drunk,” you retort. “She looks like she needs to go to a hospital.”

“She’s just a lightweight is all,” he sneers. “I’ll take good care of her. Now get lost.”

“Let me take a look at her, please. I really think she needs a doctor.”

“No,” he barks. “She just needs to get home and get some rest.”

“Walker,” a deep, stern voice behind you started. “Do you need some help?”

“Rogers,” Walker stammers. “Seriously, I just need to get the lady home. That’s all.”

“Walker, if I get security over here and search your pockets, are they going to find some pills?”

Walker stammers a bit before dropping the girl and trying to run for it. He only makes a couple steps before Rogers has him slammed against a wall, signaling security to come in. You’re already picking up the young woman from the floor, checking her pupils for dilation, getting her into a more comfortable position.

Rogers is talking to a few people as security quietly takes Walker out of the gallery, “Sam, go get Strange or Badr. She probably needs a doctor. Bucky, go get Danvers and Rambeau to come help their daughter.” They head in separate directions and he turns to see you checking the girl. He bends down and turns her face towards him, “Monica, we’re getting your mothers. You’re going to be okay.” She seems to relax at that.

Before long a few people come over and you step back so they can take care of the girl. You figure you should leave before your status as party crasher gets found out but Rogers gently grabs your arm, making you stay in place as he gets the situation sorted. You try to squirm out of his grip a few times before he pulls you to him and whispers, “settle down, Hummingbird. You’re not in trouble but we need to talk.” You’re unsure where the nickname came from but you take comfort in his words and stop trying to escape.

They’re getting Monica to an ambulance but a tall blonde woman turns to Rogers, fury in her eyes. He points to the door where security took Walker and she storms in that direction.

Once you’re alone you try, one more time, to pull away, “I guess you should get back to your party, Sir.” The look he gives you makes you freeze.

“I’m not generally one for repeating myself, Hummingbird,” he begins. “But I understand you might be out of your depth tonight. You are not in trouble but we still need to have a chat.”

“Yes, Sir,” you lower your head.

He chuckles and lifts your chin, “call me Steve.”

“Yes, St…Steve.”

He smiles at you before turning and leading you to a separate wing of the gallery that had been closed off for the party. You know you should pay attention to him, but your eyes keep looking at the beautiful art around you. When you finally do turn back to Steve his smile has grown.

“So, what brings you to my party?”

“I…I just wanted to look at the art.”

“Why not look during normal gallery hours?”

“Work,” you confess. “I got so swamped I didn’t have time to come see the show. Jack Russell is such an amazing artist and I was desperate for a chance to see his art in person. I put on my nicest dress and slipped in with a small group. I’m very sorry.” You hang your head in apology, waiting for some kind of punishment or consequence for your actions. He said you weren’t in trouble but there had to be some kind of repercussion.

“I believe you,” he states. “I was watching you almost all night.” You lift your eyes at his words, confusion written all over your face. “You weren’t invited, it’s true, but you weren’t drinking any champagne. You didn’t annoy any guests. You were just flitting from piece to piece, actually enjoying the show. I figured as long as you weren’t causing trouble, I’d let you be. And I’m very glad for that.”

“I wasn’t planning on staying long,” you sighed. “Didn’t want to get caught so I moved quickly between the pieces.”

“Flitting like a hummingbird,” he chuckled. “But in coming here, breaking into my party, you saved a young woman. In doing so you also saved my party and, quite frankly, my reputation. I can’t be known as someone whose parties are unsafe or cater to creeps like Walker turned out to be. As such, I would like to reward you.”

“Um..wh..what?”

Steve’s bright blue eyes seemed to shine with your response. “And I think I know the perfect reward. I’m friends with the curator here. I’ll give you her information and any time there’s a show you really want to see, but can’t get to, call her and she’ll make sure you get in at a time that’s convenient for you.”

“What?!” Your eyes grow wide at his words, “that’s far too generous, Sir! I can’t accept that!”

“It’s ‘Steve’ little Hummingbird,” he lowers his face to your level, his voice lowering with it, “and you will accept the reward. I’ll also make sure you get invited to every party I host at this place. Watching your genuine enjoyment was the highlight of the party tonight. I’d love to see more of it.”

“Are…are you sure about this, Steve?”

Eyes never leaving yours, he gently grabs your hand and kisses it, “I promise, I want nothing more than for you to accept.”

Many thanks @yenzys-lucky-charm for the ask! It really helped push the scales towards making a full mob/mafia AU. 😆

Part 2

Series Masterlist

#zombie asks #mob boss!steve rogers #mob!steve rogers #mafia!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x female reader #mob!steve rogers x reader

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hellsitegenetics · 1 month

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Dig through the ditches and burn through the witches and slam in the back of my dragula!

String identified: g tg t tc a tg t tc a a t ac aga!

Closest match: Scleropages formosus genome assembly, chromosome: 12 Common name: Asian arowana

#tumblr genetics #genetics #asks #requests #sent to me #dragula #rob zombie #fish #ocean #asian arowana

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frogchiro · 7 months

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Z-zombie!Ghost who is stalking and resource guarding you as you travel and traverse through the bleak and empty ruins of the once lively towns in hopes of finding either resources or a human settlement that will be kind enough to let you join them, but for now you have only yourself....or at least that's what you think.

Ghost will follow you all the time but not show himself just yet, instead he will grunt and growl in delight to himself as he watches you camp for the night or, even better, take a bath in a clean lake or stream.

Not to mention that he's incredibly aggressive when it comes to you, his beastly instincts expand more and more as the infection took a hold of his brain and in result made him violent and hostile towards everything that could be a potential threat to you :(( So the times when you traverse through another town and you hear a blood-curdling screech that makes your skin crawl you may think that it's some zombies that fight over food or whatever zombies might fight over, but in reality it's Si tearing one apart for getting way too close to you♡

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #isn't he dreamy♡#zombie!ghost #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley

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stiffyck · 3 months

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may I request a Zombie of the Cleo variety

#asks #my art #zombie cleo #cw snakes

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communistkenobi · 1 year

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Historically, the fact that zombies originated in Haiti, as an expression of the terror felt by enslaved people towards the idea that they would remain enslaved even after death,makes the fact that nowadays, zombie narratives have become synonymous with "white dude (usually cop or adyancent) fantasy where you get to unleash your violent desires on a mass of homogenous dangerous people who are coming for your kid and wife next" makes it sooooooooooo much worse. Zombies have always been political

ok I looked this up bc I don’t know very much about it and this NPR article has a good excerpt:

Suicide was the slave's only way to take control over his or her own body ... And yet, the fear of becoming a zombie might stop them from doing so ... This final rest — in green, leafy, heavenly Africa, with no sugarcane to cut and no master to appease or serve — is unavailable to the zombie. To become a zombie was the slave's worst nightmare: to be dead and still a slave, an eternal field hand.

which I think reinforces the reading of zombies in american pop culture as these racialised non-persons, although the perspective on them has shifted drastically

#asks #racism tw #slavery tw #antiblackness tw #lmk if you want me to tag this with anything else #zombies

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evenmoreevil · 19 days

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Cleo and/or xisuma for your doodle reqs? :>

:J

#my art #hermitcraft #asks #zombie cleo

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athanmis · 3 months

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*inhales* Moss etho arctic bdubs for the fanon swap? Also omg ur arttttt its pretty, ur rendering my beloved

moss etho my gato (and thank you😊😊😇😇😊😇)

a giant woman😳

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thezombieprostitute · 2 months

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That's Mob Steve checking in on Hummingbird during that first party. He gets a slight reprieve in having to people please and lets his smile drop. He's tired but he looks to her and finds the corners of lips curling up of their own accord.

Sam comes up to him, "just got confirmation, she's not an invited guest. You want me to get her out of here?" Steve looks at him in confusion. "Quietly, of course," Sam assures.

Steve looks back at her and smiles again. "No," he shakes his head. "As long as she's not making a disturbance, we'll go ahead and let her stay." Sam nods and heads back into the crowd.

Every time Steve gets a few precious seconds between guests, he uses them to watch you. Despite your seemingly high energy, flitting about the art, he finds it calms him to watch you. Calm is hard to come by in his life and it makes him want to spend more time with you. Now he just needs to figure out how to get you interested.

#zombie asks #mob boss!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #hummingbird #garbage men au

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d0not-disturb · 1 month

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Would you mayhaps spare a little time for the ethogirls out there and give us a hazbin etho, if you’d be so kind?

Perchance and a Cleo because they come as a pair

I think I love Cleo’s design I think

#mcyt #hermitcraft #starsaysgarbage #hermitblr #art #my art #asks!#ethoslab fanart #ethoslab #etho #etho fanart #zombiecleo fanart #zombie cleo #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lilith #sigma!!!

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aresonist · 4 months

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sheep cleo 🥺

#it always feels so weird to draw human looking cleo #my art #mcyt #hermitcraft #hc cleo #zombie cleo #zombiecleo #asks #request

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illmamnim-art · 3 months

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I wanted to do @mcyt-yuri-week for the 14th but didn't have time because of college, so better late than never

#mcytyuriweekvalentines #fan art #mcyt #doodles #trafficblr #zombie cleo #zombiecleo #pearlescentmoon #double life #ask to tag #idk if this could count as g*re so let me know please

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elven-kisses · 4 months

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guardian!cleo? ^.^

(apologies if this ask was sent twice)

I had so much fun with this ^_^

#zombiecleo #zombie cleo #eccept... not so zombie #hermitcraft #kit art #asks!

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peachesofteal · 7 months

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Ghoap x reader zombie apocalypse AU? 👀 just gonna leave that here...

Ooh anon you got me with this. Thought about it all night. A full fic of this dynamic in an apocalypse setting would be so good. Sadly, I don't have it in me to write an entire fic for this but I scratched it out as a dead disco au down below on my phone (I took bits and pieces of zombie media and smashed them together as I like):

18+ MDNI / angst, death

It was an accident.

All you had wanted to do was try to find some mushrooms. You knew this part of the woods usually had a fair amount to forage, and you were pretty good at distinguishing the good ones from the not so good ones. You hadn't meant to get distracted.

You knelt down to the forest floor, picking at a piece of bark on a downed log when you heard the rustling, the suspect sound of something moving through the brush near you.

You expected one of the slow ones. The ones that usually found themselves this far from the city, wandering aimlessly, looking for the next meal. Decaying and rotting flesh hanging from their limbs, a sign they had been long infected, the decomposition marking them as something easily escapable.

You did not expect a runner.

You screamed- a huge no no, as Simon had been drilling into your head- when you saw it, far too late, tripping over yourself to try to get away, your hunting knife pressed into the palm of your hand.

You stood little chance against a runner. They were fresh, muscles still intact, lactic acid burning through their bodies, movements fast and sharp, able to take down an entire human in one fell swoop. They even looked like you, still holding their pallor, their posture, their fine motor skills.

Only their minds were gone. Addled by the infection, brains turned to hot mush inside their skulls.

They had one objective.

Eat.

You managed to clear the log, sprinting as fast as you possibly could, trying to take long, deep breaths through your nose just as Johnny taught you.

"More oxygen that way, love. It'll help your endurance, keep you runnin' longer."

They were always doing that now, equipping you for survival. Trying to train you like a solider, teaching you the finer points they thought you should know.

"We're gonna make it, together." Simon had said, the morning they showed up in the middle being away for work, clad in full tactical gear, guns in hand. "As a family."

"Ye have to listen to everything we say, alright darling? Everything's goin' to be okay." Johnny promised at the same time as you tried to pack some essentials into your backpack with trembling fingers.

They were obsessed with trying to instill as much of their knowledge into as possible, trying to prepare you, help you, listing off rules they thought were key, ensuring you knew to follow them.

One being: don't get distracted.

You curse yourself, feet flying underneath your body and heart thrumming in your chest with panic. You're too slow, and you can hear it behind you, sprinting just as fast as you are, preparing to launch and take down it's next meal.

You don't see the snare of brambles until you're in them, nearly slamming to a stop, thorns scratching against your skin as you fight against the thicket. It's too dense, slowing your ability to get away... and the runner is still hot on your heels, working its way through the mess, snapping its jaw like a shark.

Simon comes out of nowhere. One second you're hacking away at the branches and the next, there's a massive, solid warmth at your back, standing between you and the snarling monster. He's facing away from you, brandishing a knife, engaged in a full fight with the runner, taking it to the ground in an attempt to get the blade into its temple. You watch mouth wide, frozen, holding your breath until the job is done, and Simon is hauling himself upwards, pulling you into his arms before stepping back to look you over.

You burst into tears. You've always told them, you're not for this kind of world. You're too gentle, too sensitive. You're a painter, for fucks sake. Not a killer. You're too soft to survive.

They say it doesn't matter. That you can be as soft as you want, because you have them, and they'll be the killers. They'll be the hard ones.

"Did it get you? Let me see, c'mon-" He checks your arms, your neck, the tear on your shirt but finds nothing. "Alright, you're alright." He's telling you, and himself, relief exhaling from his body with each syllable. "You're alright, darling. I've got ya. Come here." He holds you tight, rubbing your back, kissing your cheek, your forehead until you're calm, breathing deeply and wiping your face.

You believe the worst has passed, until you blink up at him, and see the blood on his neck.

The bite.

"We need to make a plan."

"We're nae makin' a bloody plan." Johnny hisses, and Simon closes his eyes like he's tired. "We keep goin'. We'll make it to the rendezvous with Price and they'll have a solution. We dinnae even know how fast it spreads."

Simon lets loose a sigh, heavy with exhaustion. With the toll that this life has become. With the weight, of everything. He tucks you into his body, wrapping his other arm around Johnny, and holds the two of you close. Tightly. Tighter than he ever has before.

"Alright."

The next morning, everything is different.

You woke up last, fire still barely smoldering, little energy bar on the ground next to you. The guys sleeping bags were already rolled up, stacked neatly with Simon's pack, and the long gun that Johnny carries.

But they were nowhere to be found.

Confused, you slid free, stretching with a silent groan, scanning your surroundings until you spot them on the edge of the woods, locked together on their feet, Johnny's face mashed against Simon's neck, strong arms holding him close.

"What's going on?" The question comes out confused when you get close, and Johnny pulls away with wet eyes, hands shaking. What's happening? Why are they both crying? Fear screams through your body, red alert systems firing up as your brain struggles to put all the pieces together.

"Simon-" Johnny begins, but stops abruptly, eyes slamming shut, lips pressed together in agony.

"'m not feelin' too well." Simon explains gently. "You and Johnny are gon’ start on ahead, and 'm gonna stay here for a while." Something, something logical, something smart, is shouting at you from the back of your mind but you shove it away, opting for delusion instead.

"Okay, you're going to catch up though, right? You said. We'll find-" You frowned, looking from him to Johnny as a sick feeling grew in your stomach. "Johnny?"

“Look at me.” Simon combs through your hair with trembling fingers, unsteady for the first time in your entire existence. “I love you, darling. I love you so, so much.”

“S-stop, we're supposed to stay together, you- you said-“

“You have to go with Johnny now, okay? He’s gonna take care of you.” He jerks you forward, closed mouth pressing against your forehead. "I love you."

“No, Si.” You sob, fingers curled in his vest. “You have to come with us. You have to, we’ll fi-find a cure, they’ll be help, somewhere.”

“Johnny.” He chokes, and a strong arm wraps around your waist, Johnny’s heavy, tearful breathing echoing just above your ear. Someone works your fingers free, pulling your hand away but not letting go, holding onto you like a lifeline.

You look up between him, to his face, to Simon’s and realize. They’ve already said goodbye.

Simon strokes the back of his fingers down Johnny’s cheek, tears dripping down his own.

“I love you both, more than anything. More than life.” He squeezes your hand, rubbing a thumb over the back of your knuckles, and then steps away, pulling the handgun from the holster on his thigh. "Take care of each other."

"NO!" you scream, but Johnny is dragging you backwards like a rag doll, away from where Simon stands in clearing, gaze never breaking from the two of you, face wet with tears. "Johnny!"

"Darling-" he chokes out amidst a sob. "Shhh, please. Please." He begs you to be quiet, to hush, but you can't, you can't stop screaming, or fighting him, trying to get back to Simon, to reunite your family, to stay together. You scream and scream until Johnny’s hand claps over your mouth, his own words clogged by his cries, pleading and begging until he's cutting off your oxygen with a desperate apology and lifting you over his shoulder like dead weight.

The last thing you hear before you lose consciousness is the sound of a gunshot.

#peaches asks #peaches writes #ghost x soap x reader #I could be convinced #dead disco zombie au

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fangirlproblcms · 1 year

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