#one chapter

[This is because i quite literally cannot stop thinking about @thunder-point 's AU.]

Chain has been seeing colour since he entered third grade home room to introduce himself. So has Pun, along with twelve more of their classmates.

The first colorful thing Tan sees is red from the small drop of blood on his knuckles after he has punched the cheer captain of the opposing school.

Q doesn't realise that he has guessed the color of the sky accurately till he starts seeing his painting in dimensions like never before at P'Oh's cafe on a random Wendesday.

Peem has high hopes for colors, and they do not disappoint as he sees uniforms of red and blue run across the football field. After the match is over, Tan brings over his soulmate and his soulmates' friends, one of whom stops mid track upon setting eyes on Peem.

Furtive Chase

Leon was tired. Beyond tired, actually. Tired didn't even begin to describe the feeling deep in his bones. The Entity was mad at him for one reason or another. He was thrown into several trials one after another with barely a moment's rest between them to recuperate. In the past dozen trials or so he'd made it out of maybe three of them? The killers seemed to be getting harsher. Hell, he'd even been tunnelled out of the last trial. He didn't stick around to see if anyone else had gotten out. 

Currently, Leon was sitting on one hook in the basement. The back hook, actually. What he'd done to deserve this? Well, he had looped The Ghostface for two entire gens after the silent stalker had marked him. Safe to say the killer was not happy. He winced a bit as a scream rang through the trial grounds. They'd gotten unlucky with the map, The Decimated Borgo was in a constant state of midnight, with the moon covering the sun. Plenty of darkness to hide the silent killer. Leon had lost track of time since he'd been on the hook, his mind wandering to a different time. A better time. Before the zombie outbreak in Raccoon City. Before the Entity had taken him and his friends. When he was just a normal guy, fresh out of the academy. Things were so much simpler back then. Unfortunately, he didn't have much time to dwell on it as he came back to reality. Dwight was pulling him off the hook.

“Come on, we can't stay here. I haven't seen Ghostface since Sable was hooked,” Dwight whispered. Leon could only nod as the pair crept up the stairs. 

In the time it took for Dwight to stitch up his wounds, Ace had traded hooks with Sable. Hook trading was a sure fire way for things to snowball more than they already had. Leon and Dwight split, deciding working on two different generators was a better idea than one. By the looks of it, Sable had healed herself in the basement without being caught. Good. Once Leon had pulled enough useless parts out of the generator, he quietly slipped into a locker, and made a quick little flashbang. 

With that in hand, he ran up to where Ace was hooked, looking around for the silent stalker as he unhooked him. He led Ace away and into a dilapidated building to heal him before telling the gambler where his generator was. He could tell that Sable was in chase with the killer. He couldn't tell  how he knew. There were just certain things the survivors knew. Such as when  another survivor was working on gens, getting chased, healing, cleansing totems, etc. Just knowledge that the Entity had given them during trials. 

Using a perk Dwight had taught him, Leon crept around, waiting until the yellow aura of Sable was visible, standing out against the blue and black hue of this realm. He could tell she was injured, having been sliced by The Ghostface’s signature blade. He stayed out of sight but nearby as Sable was giving The Ghostface a run for his money. 

Speaking too soon, Sable went down not long after those thoughts crossed Leon's mind. Breaking into a sprint, Leon ran towards the pair, and as The Ghostface bent down to pick the poor girl up. Fingers at the ready he pulled the pin of the flashbang, dropping it at the killer’s feet. Unfortunately though, the momentum from a perk he learned from Renato, Background Player, was a little too good. He bumped right into The Ghostface and Sable, the flashbang blinding all three of them as Leon stumbled to the ground, landing on top of someone. That someone wouldn't remain a mystery for too long as the momentum from the fall made his face smack straight into the rigid plastic of The Ghostface’s mask, cracking it and making his nose and lips hurt.

Leon sat up, disoriented and sore. He rubbed his sore nose, his hand coming back smeared with blood, damnit. He looked down at the person under him. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. The Ghostface groaned underneath him, his mask cracked and practically falling off his face. Shit. He not only knocked the killer over, but also broke his fucking mask. Leon looked around, relieved Sable had gotten away, hopefully to Dwight or Ace to get bandaged up. He wasn't left to his thoughts for long as he was abruptly pushed off  Ghostface. 

“You brat!” He shouted, clutching the now broken mask, in his hands, “That was my favourite mask!” The killer’s eyes met Leon's. 

Leon wasn't exactly surprised that The Ghostface was just a guy. He knew that most of the killers were just people, or used to be regular people before their inciting incidents. Honestly, he expected The Ghostface to be…Ugly? Was that mean? To be fair, he expected any of the killers who hid their face behind a mask to be ugly. But The Ghostface was just…Average. More on the attractive side, he had a slightly crooked nose, likely from a fight. From a victim maybe? Leon found himself wondering. His hair was dark and his eyes were darker. They were basically black, like a starless night. An endless void you could get lost in… 

Unfortunately, Leon couldn't get lost in them for long as The Ghostface lunged at him “I'll kill you kennedy!” He yelled, almost screamed, at Leon. 

Shit. Leon jumped out of the way, narrowly avoiding his lunge, “It wasn't on purpose, man!” and the chase was on. The rest of the trial was a blur. Apparently while he and The Ghostface were on the ground, another generator got finished, leaving two generators left. The Ghostface was solely focused on him now. He didn't seem to notice any of the other survivors that tried to run intervention, attempting to get The Ghostface’s attention. Leon had pissed him off badly. So, the others decided to focus on the last two generators, getting them done as quickly as possible while Leon did his best to avoid certain death. 

Luckily, academy training came in handy, his lungs weren't as bad as some of the other survivor’s. He had heard poor Dwight's wheezing after being in chase. He regretted using so many pallets, but he didn't really have a choice, as he smacked shack pallet down onto The Ghostface’s, now exposed, face. The final generator was finished, and the sirens blared throughout the map, letting the survivors know the exit gates could be opened now. Shit. The generator was finished on the other side of the map. No doubt the furthest gate is the one they'll be opening. Would he be able to make it there? 

He didn't have time to think as The Ghostface broke the pallet with his boot, resuming his hot pursuit of the rookie cop. Shit. Leon vaulted the window, nearly bumping into Ace and Dwight. 

“Hey, we came to take hits!” Dwight smiled at Leon. They couldn't stand around for much longer as The Ghostface vaulted the shack window. Shit. All three men broke off into a sprint, Leon at the head of the pack. 

“Sable has the door ninety-nined!” Ace called out behind him, just barely missing a swing from The Ghostface’s knife. 

“She knows that when we get close to open the door and take any hits as we- OW!” Dwight cried out as The Ghostface’s knife sliced the poor leader’s back, the hit boosting him up ahead of Leon a little. Shit. That's one hit down. It felt like forever and only a moment before they came up to the towering gate, Sable pulled the lever down, the giant gate lifting as she sprinted to run behind Leon. The Ghostface’s bloodlust seemed never-ending. Ace had taken a hit already and was running alongside Dwight. As they got to the drawbridge Sable was hit…And instantly downed. Shit. He had No One Escapes Death. Sable screamed as she hit the ground. They couldn't look back. Not now. The Ghostface paid no mind to the white haired woman on the ground, his inky black eyes still focused on Leon, and still filled with rage. He swung a second too late, hitting the spikes the Entity put up to protect the survivors as they exited the trial. Leon, Ace, and Dwight all got out. They watched as Sable was picked up, and carried to the nearest hook. The killer even took out his frustrations on her by slashing her with his knife as she was sacrificed to the Entity. 

Back at the campfire, Leon couldn't get the last trial out of his mind. He'd never seen a killer unmasked. He didn't even know they could break their masks. Who else's mask could be removed? The Legion? What would The Knight look like without his mask? Despite all the questions running through Leon's mind his thoughts kept returning to The Ghostface. Those dark eyes, black as ink, as the night, that crooked nose, sharp jawline. The brown hair, messy from the mask, and probably sweat. He couldn't help but wonder. What did killers do in between trials? 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62131033

Snape was an abuser 💀

At least James fucked with people his own age. He wasn't a 30 year old man bullying 11 year old children. He wasn't a teacher with power over the students he tormented. He had zero power to expel or academically punish anyone. At least the people James messed with had the chance to fuck with him back. During Snape's worst memory, Snape literally casts a spell that cuts James across the cheek. He wasn't some helpless victim.

One chapter only

Wrote it as a writing prompt – “Beautiful”

Inspired by that romantic scene in Fresh Prince. When Philip was describing how beautiful Vivian (the first one) was, the two standing in front of a body mirror. Such a beautiful scene if you haven’t seen it yet!

Light uses of swearing/cursing

Husk’s POV

.

.

.

Beautiful.

It was the first word that popped in his mind.

He would deny it out loud in avoid embarrassment, but in his mind, the truth was loud and clear.

He looked beautiful — He is beautiful.

A part of him then thought of a funny: how a common drug name, used currently for an adult film stage name, can also be how it was done.

Angel.

Dust.

A blessing from an unknown substance that’d be an irritation but actually owned an effect upon physical contact. No allergies, no congestion, no skin damages. He wasn’t sure if the latter would be possible. Decades in the current life and appearance made human skin a shedded layer for a new type to grow and life with. Angel was no different, even with multiple arms and eyes and owning a venom that was rarely exposed through a bite.

It was, as if, an amplification to the actor.

Keeping him as beautiful as he may have been when alive in his new demonic form.

Could he even call him demonic? Is ‘demon’ even a good term to describe? Before it’d be an annoyance – a mask that hid the true spider man’s nature – but now was a new direction: being a proud loser like himself.

Just more beautiful, at that.

“Kitty~”

Even his voice was beautiful, the thought expressed before blinking a return to reality. The spider sat upon his stool by his multi-lit vanity table. His breath-taking, neon-colored heterochromia eyes gazed with curiosity and humor towards him.

He smirked, the golden tooth sticking out.

“Like what you see~?”

Such a skill in teasing and enticing someone to be in his temperate possession was an act Husk would always avoid – in the past. With a soft chuckle, he rose from sitting at the side of the bed to go over.

“Can you blame me?” He returned, not even denying him. Not this time, ever since the new change of relation.

Angel giggled then waved a spared hand. “Nah, I know I’m gorgeous.”

The smirk stayed as he resumed on his powder work at the cheek. Only to waver in further curiosity, his hand slowing to a stop as clawed hands laid and held in a gentle touch on his shoulders.

Golden eyes stared at the pink through the mirror’s reflection, connected as the winged cat lowered his head.

“You’re much more than that,” Husk purred in his ear. Reaction was immediate: the back straightened, his eyes widened, a hint of red came under the furred cheeks, and the powder puff laid correctly in the container without notice.

Fucking cute.

“I see a young man right before my very eyes, who made it impossible to compare. Sweet fluff of fresh snow, with a gazing of melted pink diamonds to form such hearts. Eyes so breathlessly hypnotic through emotions and appearance. Hands to hold more than expected, feeling the love and care in every grasp. And a smile… Oh, that beautiful smile that brings just a little bit of color into this red, dark world.”

“Fuck.”

Angel broke away, turning to hide but Husk can easily see behind the covering hand the growth of said smile and redness that became a line over his nose.

“Look how beautiful you are.”

Angel didn’t turn, wanting to lower his head to hide under the table.

“Husk–”

One hand released the shoulder to grab the closest cheek, carefully turning until the red and bashful spider made contact to his reflection again.

Husk smiled, and whispered his repeat.

“Look how beautiful you are.”

The request was short-lived when Angel’s eyes shut tight.

“Argh!”

It was the only warning before Husk felt slightly winded, then adjusted with a chuckle as the spider pressed his make-up face into his bare, fluffy torso. The four arms wrapped about him as they would when cuddling, only with a grip due to the embarrassment.

“I like grumpy Husk better!” Angel complained into his chest, muffling. “I’m not used to this shit! When did you get all ‘romantified’ or some shit?!”

Husk release a long laugh that vibrated his being. One clawed hand gentle raked through the massive hair, already washed and combed before.

“I think I’ve always had it when alive and all,” he confessed, then shrugged. “Guess there was no reason for me to do it again when dead… until now.”

The arms tightened. Husk smiled.

“Do you want me to stop?” He then asked, the raking at a pause for the answer.

“… No…”

The hand moved towards the chin, lifting Angel’s pouting and red face.

Such a precious gem you are. I’m so lucky.

“So beautiful.”

Angel scrunched up his nose, the red practically burning. “Husky!”

Future complaining was forgotten once Husk sealed their lips for a well-deserved kiss. Relaxation being instant, Angel’s top arms went to wrap around his neck while the bottom two stayed put, but loosened during. With Angel soon getting up, Husk got his own arms to wrap at the small waist, their bodies held close with no desire of letting go.

At a moment of oblivious time, their lips eventually pulled away, but allowed a brushing at contact.

There, Angel whispered with a content smile.

“Thank you, Husk.”

…