#apocalypse scenarios

[joncronshawauthor]

10 Signs You're in a Zombie Apocalypse: A Survivor's Checklist

As a devotee of zombie fiction, you’re doubtless well-versed in the signs of an impending apocalypse. However, in the unlikely event that you’re caught unawares, here are ten definitive signs that you’re living through a zombie apocalypse. After all, forewarned is forearmed – quite literally in this scenario. Facebook Mastodon Reddit Threads X The Sudden Lack of Morning Traffic: You wake…

[quirkycatsfatstacks]

Review: Apocalypse Scenarios: These are the Ways the World Ends by Mira Grant

Author: Mira Grant (Seanan McGuire)Publisher: Subterranean PressReleased: March 31, 2023Received: Own Goodreads | More Mira Grant Reviews Book Summary: Words cannot express how badly I needed this anthology in my life. Apocalypse Scenarios: These are the Ways the World Ends by Mira Grant collects some of the great work (in my mind) written by Mira Grant – aka Seanan McGuire. Included in this…

[moonstruckme]

also i LOVE your poly!marauders apocalypse au (so creative btw!! i'm obsessed!!) and would be so down to read something in that universe where the reader gets hypothermia or something like that hehe !!!! <333333

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: mild hypothermia

apocalypse poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

You keep tripping, which is mildly embarrassing. You think it’s a combination of fatigue and the general numbness that’s pervaded your body even through the layers you’d put on when you’d packed up the campsite that morning. You’d all agreed that, with the death eaters on your trail, it’s really only safe to stay in one area for a few days at a time, even with all the protections you place around your sites. But that means days where, instead of lounging around your tent, listening to the radio and plotting for the Order, you use all the daylight you have to hike through the wintry woods until you’re far enough away to set up another camp. 

Sirius glances back when you stumble again, the toe of your boot catching on a branch you hadn’t seen buried in the snow. It’s a more dramatic affair than it should be, and you barely get your other foot out in front of you fast enough to avoid face-planting into the leaf litter. 

Your shivering worsens as another gust of wind burns your face, making your thick jacket feel like mesh. You think this has to be the worst moving day your group has had yet. The cold is the same, but the sun hasn’t so much as peeked from behind the clouds all day and the wind makes it nearly unbearable. The snow is thick enough that you’ve started stepping in the boys’ footprints to save energy. One of the many perks of taking up the rear. 

You nearly hit Sirius when he stops in front of you. 

“This clearing looks about as good as any,” James is saying, but Remus looks hesitant. 

“I don’t know,” he frets. “Do you think it’s far enough? We’ve been slow today.” 

“You’re tired,” James says kindly. You look at Remus, noting his slouched posture, the weariness he’s never quite learned to hide from his expression. You’re not sure how you didn’t notice his exhaustion before. You’re usually more aware of those things. “And it’s horrid out here. Let’s just call it a night, and if you’re still anxious about it tomorrow we’ll go a bit further.” 

“I can make it further tonight.” 

“It’s not all about you, Moony,” Sirius drawls. He looks especially monochrome against all the fresh white snow, you think. His superblack hair is as eye-catching as neon. “I’ve got a rock in my shoe I’d love to get out, and I know y/n’s knees have to be black and blue from the way she’s been falling for the past hour.” 

His scheme works; Remus looks to you, arguments of his own fortitude forgotten. “Are you tired, dove? You want to stop?” 

You shrug. “Yeah, I guess. It’s cold.” 

Suddenly all three boys seem focussed intently on you. You’re not sure why. You don’t actually recall much of what you’d been talking about. 

“Could you say that again?” James asks you. His brows are stitched together and his eyes have gone all sharp behind his glasses. 

“I just said it’s cold.” 

“Why’re you talking like that, doll?” Sirius takes a step toward you, then looks to Remus. “Why is she slurring?” 

“I don’t know,” Remus says softly. He’s looking at you weird, too. Frowny. “Yeah, let’s set up. Maybe she just needs a rest.” 

James spells the tent up quickly, then makes Remus stay and sit with you while he and Sirius set up the protections and everything else. The temperature inside the magical tent is cozy. Remus lights a fire in the grate to warm you all up. 

“Do you feel okay, lovely?” he asks, helping you out of your jacket. You sit on the bed, working off your shoes. 

“Yeah, just…just really tired.” 

He furrows his eyebrows, placing a palm on your cheek. You have no clue how it’s so warm, but a sigh escapes you as you lean into the touch. 

“When did you start tripping?” he asks you. 

You…you’re not sure. You can’t remember the first time it happened. How long had you been walking?

Your bemusement must show on your face, because Remus’ mouth pinches. His hand slides down to cup your face, fingers pressing oddly into your jaw. Frankly, you could care less where he puts them so long as he keeps touching you.

“Feeling better?” James asks, materializing behind Remus. You’re not sure which one of you he’s talking to, but you hum contentedly anyway. 

“I think she might be hypothermic,” Remus doesn’t look away from you as he talks, his eyebrows lowered like he’s waiting for you to answer a question you don’t remember him asking. His fingers press harder into your neck. “Her pulse is…scary weak.” 

James looks at you, and you look at Remus. 

“You really think so?” you ask him, befuddled. “I don’t feel…I’m only tired.” 

“Hypothermia makes you tired,” he tells you gently. “And you’re slurring your words, love.” 

You feel an icy tendril of fear snake around your spine. “I am?” 

“You’re alright.” James catches onto your panic quickly, leaning over Remus to give your shoulders a bolstering squeeze. “Let’s just get some of these layers off you, and then we’ll swaddle you in blankets.” He starts easing off your jumper, leaving you in just your undershirt. You’re newly cognizant of the sluggishness of your movements as you raise your arms to help him. “Once you sit by the fire for a bit, you’ll be feeling back to normal in no time.” 

You nod numbly, lifting your bum to tug off the jeans you’d worn over leggings. James takes the blanket from the bed and wraps it around you while Remus goes to find more in the other room. 

“Poor love,” James coos, dropping a kiss to your head. “You’re shaking like a leaf.” 

“No duh,” Sirius says, the tent flap letting in a blast of cool air behind him. “It’s fucking freezing out.” 

James offers him a sorry smile. “We think she’s got hypothermia.” 

Sirius sobers, stormcloud eyes flickering to you. “Shit, really? How bad is that?” 

“Not too bad, I don’t think,” Remus says, nudging past him with a stack of blankets in his arms. “I mean, it’d be great if I’d thought to bring any books on that sort of thing, but I’m fairly sure if it were bad she’d be more confused and a bit…blueish.” He drapes a blanket over your shoulders, letting James pull it tighter and tuck it about as he wishes. “Do you feel any better?” 

“I think so,” you say quietly. It’s a bit unnerving to be at the center of so much alarm like this. You do feel better being out of the cold, but you’re not sure if that’s what he’s asking. “It’s a little hard to tell.” 

“You don’t seem like you’re slurring as badly,” James evaluates. He cups the back of your neck, planting a kiss on the frozen tip of your nose. “I think you’re getting better already, lovie.” 

Your face certainly feels warmer. 

Sirius grins at your flustering, though it’s dampened by worry. “What about a hot chocolate?” he asks, tone unusually gentle. “Does that sound like it might help?” 

“I’m fine,” you say, and he disregards you immediately, posing the same question to Remus. 

“Would that help?”

Remus shrugs. “It could. Doubt it would hurt. James, love, I think she’s got enough blankets.” 

James frowns, peering through the layers of covering to find your face. “Do you feel warm enough, angel?” 

You blink, owlish. “I think so?” 

He shakes his head. “Sounds far from certain. More blankets it is. Sirius, get started on the hot chocolate.” 

[darkfantasysworld]

Adding a TW/CW for this one for obvious reasons… F!reader x group of 4 M!zombies this is based off of a roleplay I did on one of those character ai apps. This post might come off as slightly misogynistic near the end of the second paragraph.

You were the only survivor- or at least you thought you were, you hadn't seen another human since this started, of course you've seen zombies but not actual humans. You went to an abandoned military base to look for any supplies, especially any weapons or even something to properly sharpen your knife with. You walked into a supply closet, hoping to find something… anything when you heard a zombie groaning. The room only had one way in and out but the walking corpse would see you if you left so you hid behind some shelves, you checked to see if you could push them down in case the zombie came in but they were bolted to the floor. You held your breath and listened, praying the zombie would just walk by the closet but no. You watched the door through a small crack between two boxes on one of the shelves and watched as it opened, you panicked, your heart began beating fast. The zombie was wearing a military uniform and had a skull mask covering its face. It sniffed the air, clearly trying to sniff you out but it seemed to give up, making you close your eyes… big mistake. The zombie reached behind the shelves, knocking boxes down around you and pulling you out of your hiding spot. You screamed and tried to push him off but it was no use. You got a better look at him though, his skin was decaying which was evident by the putrid odor coming off of it. You gagged from the smell and tried to pull away from the walking corpse but he didn't let go. The zombie growled and moved to bite your neck, you could see his yellow teeth and tried to push his face away, his breath smelled as awful as his decaying flesh. While trying to push the zombie away your hand grazed his crotch which made him pause and look at you. You were confused as to why he stopped, thinking maybe he was still somewhat human and realized this was wrong but he threw you onto a table, making you bend over it a bit, you obviously screamed, asking him what he was doing but he either didn't understand you or he didn't care. You felt a hand grope your ass and you tried to come up with an explanation because a zombie wouldn't want to fuck you… right? The zombie moved its other hand and you went to maneuver your way away from the zombie but then you heard a rip and felt your panties get ripped right off of your body. The zombie had torn your pants and ripped your panties off as if it was nothing. You tried to get away again but felt two large fingers insert themselves inside of you, causing an involuntary moan to escape your lips. You protested but it was no use, the zombie was fingering you and you were helpless to stop it, your knife was too dull to do much and you didn't have anything else with you that was useful. The zombie took your bag with his free hand and tossed it on the floor in the corner of the room. You tried to beg and plead again but the zombie continued fingering your soaking cunt, you were about to say something else when the fingers inside of you hit a sweet spot and you came. The zombie removed his fingers from your cunt and brought them to his mouth, licking them clean. You cried but were glad it was over, you went to try and leave again when you heard a zipper and got pushed against a wall. You screamed and tried to move away as the zombie forced his cock into your cunt. The zombie groaned and moved his hips while you screamed and cried, begging him to stop, causing him to pull your hair. You couldn't believe this was happening, you could only cry as the zombie moved faster, his hips snapping against yours as he fucked you like some whore.

You passed out sometime while the zombie assaulted you but you woke up to him fucking you even more, your clothes were in shreds on the floor and you looked at your body, you could see cum all over you and as your eyes adjusted to the dim light you saw four more zombies who were fixing their pants, they had military uniforms on as well. "She's awake." One of them said, his was voice a low gravely growling sound but you could make out a slight Scottish accent. You were confused, how did that one speak, these things don't speak. "I can tell.. she's clenching around my cock like a dumb slut.." The one fucking you responded, his voice was also a low gravely growling sound but he had a British accent. "You're lucky, Captain, you get to be inside of her.." One of the others spoke, his voice was barely there, more growl-like than the others, he didn't really seem to have an accent that you could pick up on. "We'll be allowed in when she's properly broken, have some patience." The last one spoke, his voice was more there than the others, he also looked less decayed and had a German accent. You feel the captain cum inside of you and get up, you tried to get up as well but quickly realized you were handcuffed to the bed. "Let me go.." You cried quietly, you didn't want to be here, surrounded by these decaying corpses, they smelled horrible and one just assaulted you. The one that could barely speak walked over to you, he grabbed a piece of cloth and folded it a bit before putting it over your eyes so you couldn't see anything. You couldn't take it off due to your wrists being handcuffed to the bedframe. You went to say something and heard another zombie moving but it put something in your mouth to gag you so you couldn't speak. You heard more movement and felt something get placed on your clit and headphones got placed on your head. You were confused but felt the thing on your clit start vibrating just enough to make you aroused and through the headphones you heard women moaning and men praising them, calling them 'good girls' and telling them that they were serving their only purpose in life, that they were helping the men serve the country by letting them fuck their cunts. You realized these men were the zombies, you could hear their voices better and the quieter one seemed to have a New York accent.

Hours passed by and you were still listening to this audio, the vibrations couldn't send you over the edge and you didn't know if the zombies were watching so you tried not to move your hips for any form of friction. You found yourself thinking of the zombies taking you and it disgusted you but also turned you on. Suddenly you felt the vibrator get removed along with the headphones and the blindfold, you blinked, your eyes adjusting to the slightly dim light and your gaze landed on the zombies standing around the bed, they were all naked and erect. You don't know why but you spread your legs to show off your wet cunt, you weren't even thinking straight, you just wanted something to push you over the edge. "She's a pretty little whore." The Scottish one said and rubbed your cheek before forcing his cock into your mouth, you wanted to throw up from the taste. You saw the quiet zombie and Captain step aside to talk and the German zombie got on top of you, he was the largest and forced himself inside of your aching cunt, him and the Scottish zombie moved at the same time, they were fast and rough, the zombie in your mouth was hitting the back of your throat, making you gag but you managed not to throw up. The zombie inside of you somehow knew just the right spot that made cum in his cock, you could've sworn you saw stars as he hit that spot over and over again. The males continued to thrust, groaning and growling in pleasure before they came, the zombie in your mouth pulled out before speaking. "Swallow." He demanded, you could see a slight sadistic glint in eyes that made a shiver go down your spine. You swallowed the cum, it had a weird taste but at least it wasn't decaying flesh. The zombie on top of you got off and the two walked over to the Captain and quiet zombie. They were whispering about something before the Captain and quiet zombie walked over to you. You knew you shouldn't but you wanted them inside of you. The zombies uncuffed you from the bedframe but cuffed your hands behind your back as the Captain lifted you. You were facing the Captain while the quiet zombie was standing behind you, you thought they were going to use different holes until you felt them force both of their cocks into your cunt, you moaned and leaned against the Captain's chest for support, the zombies let you adjust to both of them before moving, they were both hitting just the right places that made you beg for more. You were definitely seeing stars now, each thrust felt so good, you came again, your mind flooded with pleasure as they kept going. "Atta girl." The Captain said, holding you close. "You're making such pretty sounds.." The quieter zombie said, you felt his cock twitching inside of you. You came over and over again from the males before they finally released inside of you and pulled out. You got laid back down on the bed and we're content to stay there, being a good girl for the zombies.

[yanderemommabean]

Yandere backrooms idea: you are fleeing from the latest abomination, monstrosity, or other manner of creature when you stumble through a wall or portal that looks exactly like the one you entered the backrooms through. You're right back where you started. You're so relieved, you almost don't notice the little details that don't add up. Electronics missing cords. The carpet is the wrong texture. The blurred view out the windows. Maybe you're finally tipped off when you get to the front door and find that it won't budge no matter what you do-- it's built into the wall. The sound of static, a familiar noise in the backrooms, fills your ears as you turn around. The entity staring at you smiles as you meet the dull "eyes" of the mockery of a human form it decided to take. Just like your home, it was only the creature's best approximation. It had you backed into a corner now, advancing with its too-sharp grin as your ears rang. No escape. No escape. It caught you in its web, it's not going to let you go. Oh, how they do hope you enjoy the human nest they made for you. After all, you're never leaving again.

You don't believe the door is right there in front of you. There’s no way, no fucking way salvation is just there and for the taking. Somethings wrong, the hallways became too still but Jesus there’s still that feeling that something is watching you, and it makes fear crawl all over your body as if you’re on the verge of running off again to avoid whatever was behind you. 

Something is here and fuck, You don’t  know what to do. What you do know is  if you turn around You’ll find what’s making your senses overloaded and on the verge of self destruction, and Jesus Christ you wouldn’t survive facing that thing. So, forward it is. Turning around right now is a death sentence. 

You step lightly into your kitchen, not daring to call out to your family. No, something tells you to be silent. That something like that could harm them. The majority of it looks the same as you left- was the outlet always that weirdly shaped? Does it matter? Fuck it, keep moving forward, that eerie feeling of you being watched isn’t going away if you stand still. 

You take another light step, and then another, feeling like a being was right behind you and you're surprised you didn’t just break down crying as you managed to flick on a light. Every step was agony, fear taking over your body as you slammed your eyes shut and flipped the switch, the breath of another being brushing against your shoulder like it was just hovering over you. 

You expect a blood bath, a dead corpse, anything to make your paranoia worthwhile but no. Nothing. Everything looks the same. Perfect. Too perfect. The sink is too shiny and the lights had no dead bugs in the bowl, the counter even seemed spotless with no noticeable nicks and cracks from the use over the years. What does it matter? This had to be home, right? Why else would the room be so big and so…quiet? 

Huffing out a breath, you rub your hands down your face feeling like you’re about to throw up. Water sounded amazing right now. Like it would make everything go away and you could just relax and forget the past few events even happened. You head to the kitchen sink to grab a drink of water, settle your nerves and maybe think about taking some anxiety meds you keep for emergencies. 

Maybe you really had made it back? Maybe you’re just shaking from the terrible experience the whole- whatever that place is- did to you. A working sink? That’d never be in that place! Right? It’s just…so still. Not even a breeze from outside, which oddly enough didn’t seem real to you. Just a dark window with nothing beyond it, but perhaps that’s just the adrenaline talking? But not even a shadow or even a cricket chirp…How odd. 

As you sip, the water cooling your body and making your heart rate drop just a bit, your eyes dared to look up to the window above the basin, and your heart stops in your chest as you meet the same inhuman eyes from the endless hallways

The being just shows its unnatural smile, grinning wide and uncanny as a voice right behind you croons  “Do you like it? I worked so hard to make this nest perfect. Now you won't have a reason to leave”

-Mommabean (Sorry mine was kind of short, but still, a wonderful prompt bean!!! 100/10!!!)

[mingtinys]

how flowers bloom and wither

pairing : lee chan x gn!reader , platonic! boo seungkwan x reader

apocalypse!au , exes to lovers , angst , hurt / minimal comfort

warnings : language , death , apocalyptic themes , depictions of wounds and blood , suicidal ideation , this is not a happy ending or story

word count : 6.3 k

requested ? no

a/n : heavily inspired by this juyeon fic that made my cry in my car (p.s. there is a jeonghan ver as well).

Your voice is the first to call his name in months. It's been so long that the cadence of it sounds foreign to his ears. Almost like another language entirely. A cry from the distance, barely audible in a way he easily dismisses it as a hallucination. Perhaps he was finally going mad.

He knows other survivors exist, he'd seen them in nearly every town he scavenged. Though in no reality had he ever assumed any of them knew his name. The world had not been kind enough to spare anyone who knew and loved Lee Chan. They'd all been swept away in the initial outbreak. And with no one tethering him to his own existence, he was no more than a living ghost amongst the ruins.

But then the voice calls again, this time closer. Behind him. Louder.

"Chan? Lee Chan!"

And even stranger, he knows this voice. Better than he knows the sound of his own name. Could pick it out of a crowd, blindfolded and all.

Though he still can't bring himself to believe it. Not even as he turns and your silhouette comes into view against the setting sun, your elongated shadow reaching out for him. Tattered shoes well beyond their usable years slap against the pavement as you sprint.

"Oh my God, Chan!"

It has to be a mirage. You'll pass straight through him like an apparition and the universe will laugh at him for believing another one of its cruel jokes.

Yet still, his arms open, and seconds later your full weight crashes into him. Like a tide breaking the shore, stirring up memories like loose sand in its wake.

It's the first time in months he's been held. Felt the warm touch of anything living, much less the safety of something familiar. Tears fill his eyes instantly as Chan clings to the one thing from his past he could never seem to bury. To what he can only assume is a pity gift from the universe making up for all the times it fucked him over. To you.

Your chest heaves against his as you ask, "Is it you? Is this real?"

Chan himself doesn't know the answer to that.

"I can't believe I found you," you breathe out once the air surrounding you two settles. You haven't let go yet and Chan doesn't want you to. Worried that when you finally do, he'll wake up back in the crumbling shed he'd used for shelter the night before. With his back against a cold, moldy mattress instead of being held by the warmth of a thousand suns. Alone again.

"Please say something," you nervously laugh. Despite the chill in the air, Chan's cheeks are burning up. He's at a loss, far too overwhelmed to produce anything remotely coherent. Though as you peel away to examine him, concern knitting your brows, one word does come to mind.

Wow.

You're still as radiant as he remembered. A diamond amongst the ruins of the world. It looks, for the most part, the universe has been kind to you. Good, he thinks.

"You're not..." Your expression falls. "You're not sick, are you?"

It's the fear in your eyes that finally prompts Chan to push down the lump in his throat. "No!" He rasps, then clears his throat. "No, I'm not sick. Promise."

"Are you hungry?"

Chan looks back at the reason he'd left his shelter in the first place, the rundown mini-mart about a hundred feet away. The stabbing pain in his stomach brings him back down to reality.

"There's nothing worthwhile in there, we already checked."

We?

Your arm extends to point past the mini-mart. Towards a small abandoned town that pokes out just beyond the darkening horizon. "Our shelter is just about a mile that way. Would you–"

He agrees before you've even finished your sentence.

Chan cannot fathom the hope you hold in your heart in a world like this. Not until he meets Seungkwan. The vibrant boy you've been traveling with thus far.

"You can't go around picking up strays."

"He's not a stray, Kwan, he's an old friend. Besides, you were a stray at one point too." You disappear into another room before the boy can argue any further. Leaving him to glower at his new guest.

"If you start acting strange, I'll kill you." Seungkwan points at Chan, though he's not the least bit threatening. His shiny eyes and round face are far too friendly to ever be perceived as intimidating.

Yet Chan humors the boy anyway. "Virus-free, I promise." He raises his hands in surrender.

"And don't touch anything." He motions around the living room, which is surprisingly homey.

When you mentioned you had a shelter nearby, Chan was expecting something a little less... comfortable. Something like the random sheds or raided stores he'd crouch into for just a few hours of shut-eye, never any longer. Or perhaps even a poorly constructed tent made up of various scrap parts. But when you climbed the stairs to a tiny townhouse, one of the better-looking ones amongst the multiple shells of former homes in the neighborhood, Chan almost couldn't believe his eyes. Perhaps this really was all just a dream.

The outside, for the most part, looked pretty decent. There had been some obvious repairs done; trash cleaned from the yard, wooden boards haphazardly nailed over broken windows, a tattered blue tarp covering a large section of the roof, and Chan could just barely make out remnants of graffiti that couldn't be scrubbed away. But the blue paint was hardly peeling and the stone steps had only a few cracks.

When it came to the inside, one word came to mind. Charming. None of the furniture matches, meaning either the previous owner hadn't cared for aesthetics or you and Seungkwan had at some point scavenged the surrounding houses in search of the least fucked up looking decor. Even then, it was really just the bare essentials. A surprisingly comfortable couch, two rocking chairs that look as though the wood had been chewed by squirrels, a metal center table, and a couple bookshelves filled with various novels, picture frames of strangers, and knickknacks.

Down the short hallway to the left are two closed doors. Of which he assumes is a single bedroom and bath respectively. Behind him, where you had disappeared to, is a door he'd quickly caught a glimpse of the kitchen through.

Most notably, however, against the back wall of the living room is a stone fireplace. Ablaze with such life it fully illuminates the space, providing a much-needed warmth as the brisk night rolls in. Chan watches it dance over the mound of logs, completely entranced until that same lovely voice from before calls his name once more.

"All we really have left from our last supply run is tuna, I hope that's okay." In your hands is a bowl with a small portion of rice and half a can of tuna, along with a glass of water. It's no five-star meal, but Chan's mouth still waters at the sight. And better yet, it's warm. He can't remember the last time he had a meal that wasn't a can of cold mystery mush or a granola bar.

He half expects Seungkwan to gripe about him taking something as precious in this world as food. But the boy snorts and a teasing smile creeps its way onto his lips. "Poor kid looks like he'll start drooling any second, I think tuna is more than okay."

He's right, tuna and rice is more than okay. In fact, it's the best damn thing he's ever had in his life. Even as he shovels spoonful after spoonful into his mouth, it only gets better. It isn't until every morsel of food has vanished from the bowl that Chan finally acknowledges his drink. Gulping the clear, luke-warm, liquid down in a matter of seconds.

"Thank you," he breaths out.

"So what are your plans? Are you leaving in the morning?" Seungkwan promptly asks.

Oh.

A chasm opens in Chan's stomach. Right, he thinks, How could he be so naive? Sure, the two of you knew each other. But it's been what, three years? Three years of the two of you living your own lives, growing, becoming new people. Almost a full one of those years spent fighting to survive. You didn't even owe him a meal to begin with, much less a place to stay. And, not to mention, Seungkwan doesn't know him from a hole in the wall.

He isn't sure why he assumed you'd stick by his side. But he'd sure hoped you would.

You have an equally solemn look on your face. "Right, you probably have people you need to get back to. They'll be worried if you stay too long."

"No, actually, it's just me."

Please. Chan silently pleads. Please don't leave me alone again.

You lock eyes with Seungkwan. A silent conversation between the two of you has Chan's heart pounding against his ribs.

"Can I talk to you?" Seungkwan motions you to follow him down the hall and into the solo bedroom.

Minutes feel like hours; and no matter how hard he tries, Chan can't decipher anything from the muffled whispers. It's just a flurry of back and forth until it stops with Seungkwan letting out a long sigh.

When Chan sees your nervous, fidgeting, figure appear with Seungkwan in tow, he starts mentally preparing for a no.

"There's only one bedroom," Seungkwan states, arms crossed. "So we'll have to rearrange the sleeping arrangements—"

"I'll sleep anywhere," Chan immediately bargains. "I can take the couch—"

"Absolutely not." The older boy jabs a finger at him, his stare menacing. "That couch is the nicest thing we have, if anything it's mine."

That is perfectly fine with Chan. In fact, he'd take the termite-chewed wooden floor if that's what it would take. "Does this mean..?"

"Yes," the boy exaggeratedly rolls his eyes, but the action doesn't feel malicious. More like a brother teasing his younger siblings. "You're lucky, you had a very reliable source vouch for you."

It feels like Chan can breathe for the first time since this whole shit-storm began. The weight that lifts from his chest makes him feel as though he's floating. And as your soft gaze catches him, he sees it. That indomitable glimmer of hope humanity has to offer. A light at the end of a dark tunnel. Security wrapped up in a warm, fluffy blanket.

A second chance to be alive.

Seungkwan, as Chan quickly learns, had dreams of being a singer back before. There's rarely been a quiet moment in the week since you found Chan. If he's doing repairs, he's humming. If he's taking inventory, he's softly mumbling along to some tune. If he's sat by the fire at night, his voice carries beyond the walls and into the night.

It's strange. Chan hadn't realized just how quiet being alone was until now. But you enjoy Seungkwan's voice, and it eases you to sleep on Chan's shoulder. So he enjoys it as well.

"Are they asleep?" He asks, letting his song teeter off, voice just barely audible above the crackling logs.

Chan looks down at the slow rise and fall of your chest. He smiles fondly, dropping his shoulder a tad lower to not strain your neck. By now, he's finally gotten over the disbelief of his luck in finding you— well, more so you finding him. Deciding to no longer question the probability of it all and simply cherish the feeling you bring him.

"Yeah, I think so."

Similarly, Chan has also learned that as much of a tough guy act as Seungkwan puts on, he's got an incredibly soft heart. It's pertinent in his gaze and the discreet ways he dotes on anyone around him. Bickering with Chan to wear something warmer even though Spring is around the corner or fussing at you to take an extra portion of rations.

In an alternate life, Chan likes to think he and the boy could've been life-long friends.

"How long were you out there alone?" He muses, a curious look on his face.

"Since the first outbreak," Chan answers casually. Though, Seungkwan's eyes go wide in horror.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, why? How long were you?"

"Three weeks, maybe." He shrugs. "Give or take a few days. We ran into each other pretty early on and we've stuck together ever since. Found this place about four months ago and tried to make it feel somewhat normal."

"Oh, that's nice." Chan forgets that for some, life kept moving. Even as society crumbled, humanity persisted. Some in vain, some succeeding, and others, like himself, not at all.

"Can I ask something else?" Seungkwan pulls him from his thoughts. There's a prying curiosity that's scribbled all over his face. Grinning like a schoolgirl with fresh gossip to tell her friends. Chan decides to entertain his curious mind, nodding.

"How do you two know each other?" He gestures at the two of you curled up on the couch. "Like, what's the story there?"

Chan's heart drops straight into his ass and like a reflex, he glances down to ensure you're really asleep. The two of you haven't exactly gotten the chance to talk about everything quite yet. So as of now, he isn't sure where you stand. He decides the more vague the better.

"We met in our third year of university. Their roommate was friends with my roommate."

Seungkwan squints his eyes, visibly displeased with that answer. "And?"

"And..." Chan toys with the material of his pants. "We dated. Two years. Just... didn't work out in the end."

Chan seriously wishes Seungkwan's facial expressions weren't so telling. That way he'd be able to at least pretend he was getting out of this conversation any time soon. But still, the boy persists, nagging him about the who's, what's, when's, where's, and why's until Chan caves. Explaining everything from the stolen glances that started it all, to the teary-eyed bittersweet end.

He vividly remembers the way regret pooled in his chest the moment your front door shut. Making his chest feel cold and empty, a feeling that stuck around nearly every day after. Reminding him of what he let go of for the past three years. The conversation plays on in a loop in his head, and since then, he's thought up about a thousand ways he would've done differently.

"Are you saying you want to break up?" Your voice was so small it ripped Chan's heart in two. 

"No! I just— I mean, but... shouldn't we?"

"Our lives started growing in different directions faster than we could keep up." He explains to Seungkwan, who's been uncharacteristically quiet. Not once stopping to interject his opinion or pop in another question. "They were offered a really good internship a few cities away. I was given the opportunity to be mentored by a renowned choreographer. We'd both be so busy. It didn't seem fair to hold each other back from our dreams. There wasn't much of a choice."

But that's not true. Chan ripped the bandaid off long before it could prove to stand the test of time because he was scared. He assumed the love you felt for him would slowly wither and die with the distance. Drawn out in a slow and painful process he couldn't bear the burden of. So he ran, like a coward, and left you to deal with the fallout by yourself.

It's funny, how the universe deals out karma.

"Probably the dumbest decision I've ever made."

Seungkwan hums, relaxing back into his wooden rocking chair, seemingly deep in thought. A silence settles over the room, only the sound of dying embers softly crackling fills the air.

You stir next to him, nose cutely scrunched up as you search for a more comfortable position. Chan hooks his arm around your waist, pulling you to fully lean against him, being extra cautious not to accidentally jostle you awake. You finally settle, and he can't help but notice your body still fits against his perfectly. Just like to used to.

And when Chan lifts his head back to meet Seungkwan's eyes, he catches the tail end of a fond smile. He rises from the chair, making his way around behind the sofa.

"You made it back, that's all that matters." He whispers, hand on Chan's shoulder. "You don't get a lot of second chances in life— much less in the middle of the apocalypse. Maybe it's time you stop just trying to survive and start letting yourself live. Whatever that looks like for you."

Spring rounds the corner like an old friend. Marking officially one year since the world went to shit and bringing with it much-needed rain in the form of rolling storms. One brews on the horizon, dark clouds gradually closing in on the afternoon sun. The cool breeze feels refreshing against Chan's damp skin. A pleasant contrast to the heavy bag slung over his shoulder, filled with scavenged treasures from the latest scout.

"You know, I offered to carry it halfway," you tease, significantly less out of breath than Chan on your trek back home. The exterior of the townhouse hadn't fared well with the harsh storms, yet it's a welcomed sight nonetheless.

"Yeah, but that would require him relinquishing about this much pride," Seungkwan laughs while pinching his fingers together, squinting through the narrow gap between them.

"It's not even that heavy," Chan scoffs, and if you clock his lie, you don't make it known.

"Whatever you say, golden boy," Seungkwan snickers, the corner of his lip quirked up in a smirk before veering off to the small plot just to the left of the entrance steps.

Seungkwan, arguably the most excited for Spring to arrive, had taken up gardening. Plowing up the soil with a water-logged wooden shovel and planting various packs of seeds he'd once found on a scout. They were mostly just flowers, anything useful like fruits and veggies having already been snatched up by other scavengers. However, he'd been lucky enough to find one packet of tomato seeds, one of green onion seeds, and another of squash seeds. The boy has a surprisingly green thumb, having created a flourishing garden in just a month.

"It's looking beautiful, Seungkwan. Another few weeks and we may actually have something to eat that isn't out of a can." You praise, admiring the colorful arrangement as well.

Sure, the fruits and veggies are nice, but Chan much prefers the cluster of voluminous purple hyacinths. Their vibrant color reminds him of the rich sunsets he'd use as a child to gauge when to return home for dinner.

He swiftly plucks a single bloom from the arrangement and places it behind your ear. You smile at the gesture, and it somehow shines brighter than the flower itself. A sight he believes is capable of parting the gray clouds stretching across the sky.

"Stop killing my babies, Lee Chan." Seungkwan chastises, annoyance evident in his tone.

"Sorry," he sheepishly grins, remembering Seungkwan's no-touching rule he had applied to the garden.

In the distance, there's a low rumbling that draws your attention to the sky. "We should go in before it starts pouring." You take Chan's hand, tugging him inside while his heart beats out of his chest. You call out for Seungkwan as well, urging him that his babies will be fine in the rapidly approaching storm.

Rain slowly begins to patter against the rafters the second the front door squeaks shut. Crescendoing to a downpour within a matter of minutes. Sounds like the three of you are in for a long one tonight.

It was hard to notice at first. The occasional slip-ups here and there. Easy enough to blame the rising Summer heat on Seungkwan's mood swings. Even if the boy had been more readily agitated lately, his bubbly moments stuck around in an abundance that excused the outbursts.

Though Chan can't quite get over that look on your face the first time Seungkwan snapped at you. Something about his bush of hydrangeas being disturbed despite you insisting you hadn't laid so much as a finger on his garden. But the moment tears slipped from your irises, Seungkwan crumbled. His eyes blown wide in horror as the realization hit. He uttered endless apologies, begging for forgiveness until you assured him everything was okay.

And to his credit, he hadn't had an outburst that big since. But still, you made sure to be extra cautious around his garden from then on out.

The red patches painting his arms are harder to ignore, though. Especially with the incessant noise of nails obsessively itching at dry skin.

"Are you okay?" Chan asks, finally voicing his concerns after watching the boy go at his skin with an inhuman determination for the past half hour. The sight reminding him of a rabid dog infested with fleas. With little care for its own health, left only with the insatiable urge to make the itching stop.

Seungkwan's head snaps up with feral eyes, though they dissolve into cheery crescents quick enough to fool Chan into believing he was just imagining things. Perhaps he'd been a little too on guard around his friend. The sweltering heat surely didn't help his nerves.

"Yeah," he chuckles. "I must've gotten into some poison ivy, it's been driving me mad."

It only got worse.

The scratching.

It keeps Chan awake in the late night hours. That dry sound echoing in his head over and over and over and over. And during the day, despite it being the peak of Summer, Seungkwan wears long sleeves. They do well in muffling the sound and hiding whatever visuals resulted from the night before. Yet, he forgets to scrub the dried blood from under his nails.

There's an unease that settles in Chan's chest and makes a nest there. A feeling that comes in waves, yet never fully leaves him. It consumes his thoughts and taints the air in his lungs until he feels like he may choke on it. Unable to breathe a single word about his worries without accidentally manifesting them into fruition. Because perhaps nothing is awry. Perhaps Chan is the one slowly losing his mind.

After all, you've yet to mention anything. Content with humoring Seungkwan's better moments in spite of his worst.

Perhaps, Chan is still stuck in his mirage.

It happened again.

Seungkwan snapped and this time Chan had to intervene.

Over his garden again.

The once glorious flowers were sad and wilting, through no fault of anyone's, but the elements. The heat was harsh on them and there hadn't been enough rain in a while to revive them. Not to mention, Seungkwan simply hadn't been tending to them as much as he thought he had. He spent most of his days now obsessing over illusions instead.

Swore he saw spiders in the rations. Heard scratching in the walls. Had caught shadows of looters pacing outside at night.

You called it dehydration.

But he'd somehow gotten it into his head you'd been poisoning the soil when he wasn't looking. He swung the front door open so hard it nearly flew off its hinges, yelling obscenities about how you betrayed him. How rotten and horrid you were for killing the one thing that'd given him any semblance of joy. Chan swears he's never seen someone so unhinged as Seungkwan in that moment.

All it took was three large steps in your direction for Chan to brace himself in front of you. However, all it really took to freeze Seungkwan in his steps was his name. Loud and firm. Lighting a clarity in his eyes that's been missing for a few days now. He ushers the boy outside with haste. Too afraid to look back at your crumbling face.

Seungkwan collapses down on the stone steps. He pulls his knees to his chest and digs his palms into his eyes, hard. "I fucked up, didn't I?" He whimpers.

Chan doesn't know what to say. He did. But confirming it when he's in such a state seems cruel. And he doesn't care to twist the knife any further. He just takes a seat next to what's left of his friend and lays a comforting hand on his back.

"I'm scared." Seungkwan's head tips back to the sky. Chan had always been under the assumption that Seungkwan was oblivious to his deteriorating state. But the steady stream of tears down the boy's cheeks says otherwise.

"I can feel my mind slowly becoming not my own."

"Maybe it's not—"

"I already tried telling myself that." Chan's heart sinks as the boy hikes up his sleeves. Revealing the angry red tracks and rust-colored scabs covering a majority of his forearms. Some wounds still look fresh, and painfully deep.

"That's the first symptom, right? Feeling like there's ants under your skin. Being easily irritated. Foggy memories, whole days missing..." He looks ahead at the setting sun. "I'm already seeing things. Was it one or two months the broadcast said the infected have once those start?"

Chan tries to remember back to when his radio crackled to life for the first time. He's pretty sure it's one.

"I can't remember."

Seungkwan pushes a bitter laugh through his nostrils. "Me either."

Chan glances at the sad plot of greenery beside him. He frowns at the way the tulips droop and their petals hang limp. At least those who are still trying to hold on. Desperate to escape the same fate as their counterparts that have already begun decaying into the soil.

He looks back to Seungkwan and wonders what it's like. To have the tulips weep for you. For them to bow their heads and shed their petals like tears. He also wonders if you'll grieve for Seungkwan as gracefully as they do.

"Promise me one thing?" Seungkwan whispers. His eyes already look like they're glazing over again.

"Anything."

He speaks your name with longing. "Take care of them, yeah? I know it seems like they have their shit together, but that's not how it always was."

"What do you mean?" Chan asks, skin crawling. But Seungkwan continues to stare ahead, eyes focused on who knows what in the distance. He blinks slowly, "It's not my story to tell. Just... promise."

"I promise. Don't worry, it's not something you even have to ask."

"The garden, too." His lips lift at the corners. Chan thinks it's a smile, but it's too uncanny to recognize. "If you're taking requests."

He agrees, partly to provide Seungkwan with what little peace of mind he can offer him, but also because he already has been. Chan tries on occasion to care for the sad little plants. Wetting the soil with what little water he can spare.

Part of him naively hoped that maybe somehow, some way, if the garden could be nursed back to its former glory, so could Seungkwan. But deep down, Chan has learned to tell the difference between a dream and reality by now.

And the reality is, Seungkwan reeks of borrowed time.

The world stole your smile when it stole Seungkwan. It ripped his soul from your grasp as Chan held you in his. Kicking and screaming.

Endless tears streaming down his cheeks as he fought to hold you back. Your pleas grew more desperate and wrangled. Mixing with the garbled, wretched, shrieks of your friend. Fingers clawing at his eyes. The virus embedded so deep in his brain he was no longer Seungkwan.

Just another host.

Your voice was the last to call Seungkwan's name that day. Raspy and hollow as you begged for his life. Begged the universe to not take the last ray of sunshine the world had to offer. Begged Seungkwan to fight just one more day. Begged Chan to let you save him despite all hope having set when the sun did. The scratches you'd left on his forearms remained a week after. But the hole Seungkwan's presence left has yet to fade.

Neither of you spoke of the boy in that time. He still doesn't know if that's for better or worse. Chan's terrified you'll shatter if he so much as whispers the boy's name. But to act like he never existed in the wake of it... well, that just doesn't feel right either.

But Chan knows there's no proper way to grieve. He figured that out at the beginning. He'd had damn near a year to mourn everyone he ever loved, you've only had a week. He knows with time, acceptance will come. But it kills him not knowing how to help.

So instead, Chan does the hard stuff.

He buries Seungkwan. Next to his garden, so that next Spring he can watch it grow. He stacks rocks as a makeshift headstone and plucks dried, stiff asphodel from the garden to make it look neat. He rearranges the bookshelf into a tiny shrine of Seungkwan's things. His favorite books he'd read over and over. A silver ring, with some date Chan doesn't know the meaning of carved into it. A liquor bottle that he used as a makeshift vase with the last flowers he picked still in it. Long dead, but the petals somehow still holding on. Replaces one of the bronze picture frames of strangers with a photo he found tucked away in Seungkwan's bag. One of him and two other people he assumes are his parents.

And when he's done, he lights a candle, the flame drawing you out like a moth.

"What is this?" you croak. It's the first you've spoken to Chan since it happened.

"Something to honor him," Chan whispers, keeping his gaze locked on the flickering light. He's too scared to see your reaction. Afraid you'll break down again. Afraid you'll hate it and scream that he has no right to mourn someone you loved for longer. Afraid that if he sees your tears flowing, he won't be able to stop his own.

Because he also knows part of you still resents him for that night. For grabbing your waist and stopping your momentum from hurtling towards Seungkwan. Robbing you of the chance to hold and comfort your friend one last time. Your screams echo in his head as a reminder whenever your gaze refuses to meet his or you shrug away from his touch.

But then your head falls to his shoulder like an olive branch stretching across a battlefield. Your sniffles break through the silence. Chan hesitantly pulls you closer, and when you don't flinch away, he does even more so until your full weight is against him.

When Seungkwan was here, there was rarely a moment of silence. But now, the house, and you, are quiet. And all Chan can hear are the sounds of heartbreak. Never before had he thought it could be so incredibly loud.

The cold air sneaks in sometime around mid-November. Bringing with it longer nights and temperatures low enough to warrant nightly fires again.

You haven't talked much since the night you cried your heart out on Chan's shoulder. Operating more like a zombie replicating past routines from life before. Wake up. Scavenge. Eat. Sleep. So when you offer up the first ounce of interest in something other than your daily routine, Chan nearly jumps out of his skin.

"I miss the ocean," you mumble, solemn eyes looking down at the crackling fire. The tip of your nose red from the chill.

"We can go if you want... If it would make you happy." He says though he'd settle for content. To bring you back, he'd do anything.

You nod. "Yeah, I'd like that."

And Chan makes it happen.

Maps out the closest beach. Rigs up two rusty old bikes he found in a shed. Packs enough provisions just in case. All for the sake of maybe returning with a sliver of the person you used to be.

The two of you easily find the rocky formation looking over the dark sea, waves raging below. It's here, that Chan truly realizes just how much of a shell you've become of your former self. The way you inch closer and closer to the sharp edge is lifeless. Like a magnet being pulled at with no will of your own. It lodges a dagger of dread through the center of his chest.

"Don't go so close, you could slip." Chan doesn't know if you can't hear him over the crashing waves below or if you simply choose not to. But your feet keep moving and Chan's feel cemented to the ground.

"That's close enough!" He calls.

Again, nothing.

Your toes hang over the edge now, hands in your jacket pockets. Raging waves slam against the cliff, reaching up for you. You close your eyes and point your nose to the sky.

Wind rushes around Chan. His shoes slip on the slick rocks below as instinct takes charge of his momentum while his brain remains frozen in panic. His lungs refuse to work until his arm can hook around your torso. Yanking you back with such a force it throws the both of you off balance. It isn't until his back meets solid rock that he finally gasps in a sputtering breath. The dull throbbing is instant, but the full weight of you atop his chest is comforting.

Chan desperately scrambles to collect you in his arms. Pulling your back against his chest so that he can curl around you like a protective barrier from the world.

"I wasn't going to jump." You whisper. But he feels no comfort from your empty words.

"Please don't make me lose you twice." He pleads like a child, rocking you in his grasp. The salty spray from the ocean mixes with his tears until he can't tell what is what. Right now, the only thing he's certain of is the one in his grasp. The feeling of you in his arms, safe, and he doesn't want to ever lose that. Call it selfish if you must. Lee Chan will wear that title proudly.

There's a rush of déjà vu as you crumble, muttering Seungkwan's name between wretched sobs, nails deep in his forearms. Sobbing about how you miss him, how unfair it is, everything you've been holding in since. Chan holds you tighter. Scared you'll slip away like the tide. Like Seungkwan did. Plunged into cold, thrashing darkness.

He prays to whatever merciful forces have forsaken him to please not do the same to you.

It's a silent trip back to the townhouse and you all but collapse from exhaustion the second you're through the door. Dragging yourself over to the couch and immediately curling into a ball. Chan takes the liberty of lighting the fire before sitting down beside you. He opens his arms, and to his surprise, you accept, letting your head fall into his lap. His arm securely drapes over your torso, though you're quick to cradle his hand. Hugging it to your chest so that his palm can feel the rhythmic thumping of your heart.

Chan lets out a long-held sigh, counting each beat like a lullaby. Then focuses on the rise and fall of your chest. Letting the steady swells ease the adrenaline from his system.

For a second, life is okay. Happy, even. Like how it was back before the world ended. Before he broke your heart. When he didn't care about anything except you and passing chemistry.

"I'm scared to lose you." When you say it, it feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room. "I always thought maybe, because we'd made it this far, that meant we were somehow immune. That the worst was over for us."

You pause to take a deep breath. But Chan doesn't push, simply thankful you've finally decided to let him shoulder the weight you carry.

"But if Seungkwan can die, that means you can too. Then who do I have?"

"I'd never leave–"

"You can't promise that," you drop to a whisper. Compensating for the waver in your voice. And you're right, he can't. Not in a world as cruel as this.

But he wants to.

"I don't believe in this world anymore. Not after what it did to him."

"Can you believe in me?"

Your answer doesn't come in the verbal form. Nor does it come quickly, which makes Chan think he's officially lost you. But then your fingers thread with his, squeezing in a way that he can only describe as feeling like pure hope.

Chan can't remember when the turning point was. All he knows is that today, months after the ocean, life feels peaceful once more. The Spring breeze is gentle against his skin as he lays in the soft grass with your head on his stomach. Surrounded by the aroma of the newly bloomed tulips that far outshine the rest of the garden.

He doesn't have as nearly green of a thumb as Seungkwan did, but he's proud. The garden is lush, green, and full of life. A little chaotic, but beautiful nonetheless.

Chan had even managed to revive the hydrangeas Seungkwan was so fond of.

You point to clouds with upturned lips, remarking on their resemblance to various animals. It's not the first time he's been lucky enough to catch you smiling in the subsequent months. But he knows to cherish each one more than he once did.

There's still a chill to the spring air and Chan tugs at his sleeves. Ignoring the incessant urge to animalistically claw at his arm. At the itch so deep under his skin, it feels like it's in the bone.

[whumperoni-and-wheeze]

[A] breaks a limb after a post-apocalyptic event. [B], [C], and [D] have to reset it, despite protest from [A].

[B] and [C] hold them down, [B] holds their hand over [A]'s mouth to avoid drawing unnecessary attention to their ramshackle fortress.

[D] has to disinfect their wounds, reset the bones, splint the limb, etc.

The break is severe enough to almost send [A] into shock, and [B] has to keep them focused on something else, anything else.

"Hey, hey [A], look at me, alright? That's it, just keep lookin at my eyes, you're gonna be fine."

"Breathe through your nose, [A], you can't hold your breath through this."

"HEY, no, don't look! It'll hurt worse, trust me."

"You're doing great [A], we need to stitch the wound now."

"Hey, HEY, don't start passing out on us, you're gonna be fine ok?"

[cielie-voss]

Drunk late night talks with Eddie

(probably part one of many more to follow)

Masterlist

The music, which is only muffled through the closed door, seems far away. Occasionally, someone slams against the door or pulls it open to shout something unintelligible into the dark kitchen.

"You know," you say, holding a pickle, gesturing towards Eddie as he nibbles on raw spaghetti, "if a zombie apocalypse happens, we need a plan. We should hole up somewhere."

"No, no," Eddie intervenes, shaking his head. "We should be on the move. Always be on the move. In a caravan, for example."

"And what do you do when the tank is empty? Or if the zombies try to break into the car at night? Besides, they can easily smash the windows." Your interjection makes him think. With a furrowed brow, he stares at the noodle in his hand.

"And what about other survivors? They might turn on us. And I don't think they would hesitate to kill you in a heartbeat to stay alive themselves."

"Okay," he clears his throat and looks at you firmly, "then on the water. A houseboat. Zombies can't swim, right? And I don't think others would bother swimming to our ship just to hijack us!"

You look at him skeptically and gnaw on the pickle. The small flashlight, which only illuminates the small space between you, flickers dramatically to add atmosphere to your vital discussion, casting eerie shadows.

"But even the ship needs fuel at some point." you argue, debunking Eddie's plan. "And at ports, we risk being attacked.”

"God damn it," Eddie hisses, pressing his lips into a thin line in resignation.

"I'm sticking to my guns, we should hole up." You insist and lean back, your back pressed against the cold, glazed wood of the kitchen cupboard and a shiver creeps through your body. The alcohol level in your blood is certainly not conducive to making such an important decision. A decision for an absurd hypothetical scenario of a zombie apocalypse. But even in this state of inebriation, Eddie seems to have reasonable doubts about your plan.

"And where?" Eddie asks, prompting you to improvise. Damn, that's a very good question that you haven't thought about yet. But of course you can't admit that. So you shrug your shoulders.

"I don't know. In a supermarket?"

"No, lots of people will be planning to do that too, that's not safe.���

"In an Ikea!" After a moment's thought, you come up with this glorious idea, your eyes light up and, thrilled with your idea, you lean forward and steal the noodle from Eddie's hand.

"In an Ikea?" Eddie repeats skeptically.

"Yes, that's perfect! You've got enough furniture and comfort to live in, enough material to keep you safe, food, sanitary facilities! It doesn't get any better than that!"

Eddie watches you skeptically for a moment, but has to admit to himself that this proposal is indeed great.

"You've got a point," he finally admits reluctantly and grabs the noodle you snatched from his hand earlier. "That's pretty clever of you, I didn't think you were like that."

"A zombie acopalypse like that must be well thought out!" you beam, your cheeks glowing red from the alcohol and weed.

"Acopalypse," giggling, Eddie repeats your slip of the tongue and after a moment of realization you both burst into laughter.

Taglist: @violettsoul @kores-mun-son-n-more

[canisalbus]

I was on Pinterest this morning and I saw this and went “MACHETE wait- he wouldn’t drink from a puddle even in an apocalypse” then I’m like- apocalypse machete wouldn’t last five minutes, he’d cringe at the thought of mud getting on his heels(tm) and Vasco would probably act like a hunting dog, he might do pretty well ina full on apocalypse or war or something, and he would carry machete over all the mud puddles Q^Q

.

[mylonelydreaming]

I take issue with this idea of Link just "fucking off" and leaving Zelda completely alone before totk. Not even in just a shipping sort of way either, as close friends and him choosing to remain her knight, that makes zero logical sense? It is completely out of character for him?

Link doesn't ever leave Zelda's side. This is canon. "Fucking off" is just not something he does during peace time when he isn't on a heroic quest and being controlled by the player's whims

That's five times it's stated officially somewhere that he is by her side, and that's only the ones I can immediately recall. Botw's full ending and totk's opening together also show us that. We see them together when the story ends and we see them together when it picks back up in the sequel. At no point is it implied they ever parted.

And can we just remember for a second what happens when he's not there, for even a short amount of time, if she is unable to call upon her abilities and therefore defend herself?:

"Fucking off" is a fantastic way to get her killed. The Yiga worship Ganon, there is nobody they want dead more (besides Link), than the last living member of the royal family. They are also not opposed at all to going into villages. They snuck into Kakariko to assassinate Dorian's wife. We just don't see that reflected in gameplay.

Some people will say "it's just his job" to deny they even have a friendship or growth as characters, but want him to... not do the main part of that? "It's just his job" and "he fucked off to the wilderness" are simply not compatible ideas. Either you think Link is just a completely duty-bound mindless command robot or you think he completely doesn't care anymore about that to the point of endangering the person he's supposed to protect. It can't be both at the same time.

Thankfully, it's implied by the wording of master works, the cutscenes and the jpn version that he wants to protect and support her. That this is what he desires, even when the king is dead and he is immediately given the option to not do so anymore. That he is motivated by wanting to see her happy and safe. I'm pretty sure the only way to get him to stop trying to protect her or following her is death, and he has already proven that twice over.

[bogleech]

What if all the dead people suddenly came back as zombies but all they did was give everybody a little friendly smooch like "mwah!" and then they'd immediately go back to being dead and nothing else weird ever happened again

[shadowandsnowwitch]

Whump prompts for Halloween

❆

It has been quite a while since I’ve posted something, I was busy, but I am back with new ideas. All based on classic Halloween monsters

•

Vampire Whump

Vampire Whumper who forces Whumpee to turn into a vampire so they’ll join their group. The entire group is all composed of others like Whumpee

Can be a continuation of the previous prompt : Whumpee is rescued by Caretaker, but Caretaker doesn’t know Whumpee is a vampire and they hide their identity, until they can’t anymore. Is Caretaker scared ? Do they feel betrayed ? Or do they understand why they kept it a secret

Caretaker and Whumpee have been friends for years. The day Whumpee went missing, Caretaker uses their Vampire abilities to find them

Vampire Hunter Whumper and Vampire Whumpee. Whumper can use them as bait to hunt other vampires, or maybe they take pleasure in hurting Whumpee because they’re not human, they’re a monster (and maybe Whumpee liked to play with their prey before ?)

•

Werewolf Whump

Whumper who uses their Werewolf abilities to intimidate and hurt Whumpee. Look who’s the pet now

The transformation during the full moon is painful, and Whumpee becomes uncontrollable. So Caretaker has to lock them up somewhere and all they hear are screams of pain, Whumpee begging Caretaker to make it stop

Whumpee escapes Whumper and runs away in the forest. It’s snowy and they’re cold, after a while they collapse. But when they wake up, they feel something fluffy, and warm… They want to fall back asleep…

In a small village, the sheeps keep disappearing so they ask the hunter to take care of this problem. The hunter stands guard until they find the culprit and shot them. As they get closer, they realise that it wasn’t a regular wolf, but a Werewolf. Is the hunter a Whumper ? Or a Caretaker ? Either way, the villagers don’t seem very happy about the sheeps…

•

Ghost Whump

Caretaker inherited of an old manor. It looks abandoned but they want to give this place back its pristine look. While visiting the place, they meet a Ghost, Whumpee, who seems to have suffered while they were alive. What happened in this place ?

Another Ghost Whumpee prompt ; Ghost hunters heard there was some paranormal activity going on somewhere. A dangerous Ghost lives here, and they manage to capture them. Whumpee just wanted people to leave them alone, and now they’re trapped in a box

Whumpee’s life at home isn’t too happy, they run away and since they don’t have anywhere else to go, they choose to hide in a « haunted house ». They don’t believe in anything spiritual, though it turns out the house is actually haunted… By a friendly Ghost

Whumpee died at the hands of Whumper, and now, they’re ready for revenge

•

Witch Whump

Whumpee is deathly ill and their family is loosing hope. Caretaker heard about Whumpee while listening to a conversation and decides to help them

A classic, Whumpee is a witch living in the woods, and when the habitants of a neighbouring village learns this, they hunt down Whumpee and captures them. Do they plan to burn Whumpee at the stakes right away ?

Caretaker and Whumpee are fairly new to magic. While trying to brew some potions, Whumpee is accidentally poisoned

Witch Whumper who thinks of themself as better than humans, they take a liking in hurting them to prove how superior they are. They might even keep some as pets if they like them enough

•

Zombie Whump

Years ago, a virus turned most of the world’s population into Zombies. Whumpee managed to survive, but they are completely alone. Everyone they knew died, but they keep on living no matter what. One day, they stumble upon what appears to be a « city »

Whumper has a pit full of Zombies, and when someone pisses them off, they throw them down here. But they sort of like Whumpee, so instead, they’ll tie them up above the pit

Whumpee was bit by a Zombie. Caretaker isn’t ready to let go of Whumpee yet, and they’ll do whatever they can to save Whumpee. Even if it takes time… And Whumpee’s behavior is starting to change already. If Caretaker finds a cure, they’re not sure if Whumpee will go back completely to who they were before

Amputations. Whumpee was bit and they are forced to have an arm, or a leg, cut off. And the only tool they have is an axe

•

Demon Whump

Whumpee is beaten and bloody, but they remember rituals they learned from books to summon Demons. As Whumper leaves them for a while, they trace a sigil with their own blood, summoning a powerful Demon. Is the Demon a Caretaker ? Or another Whumper in disguise, a Carewhumper ?

Whumpee and their friends were doing one of those challenges on the internet to summon an « evil spirit ». Whumpee is a bit nervous but doesn’t want to seem like it so they decide to go first. They’re alone in a room doing the challenge while their friends wait outside. After a few minutes Whumpee gets out of the room and collapses, crying in their friends arms

A Demon was made for a purpose, but Whumpee isn’t interested in fulfilling that purpose. They don’t have much of a choice though… Do they fulfill that purpose or pretend to to get away from eternal pain ?

A mistake can have terrible consequences. Whumpee was sent to hell by accident and went through a lot even though they were innocent. They are assigned to an Angel, Caretaker, who helps them heal from their trauma, although Whumpee seems very angry at the Angels for sending them down here…

[moonstruckme]

Hi, what about a remus x reader, where they get lost in the forest after separating from their friends during a fight with death eaters and remus has to keep reader warm with his body heat.

Thanks for requesting lovely! This is sort of like my apocalypse au, except it's pre-relationship

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Remus is limping something terrible. Each step looks more painful than the last, and yet he’s only quickened his pace since you’d first noticed it about an hour ago. 

You’ve been trying to think of what James and Sirius do when he gets like this. James would be kind but tenacious about it (“Everything alright, Moons? Hip bothering you? Why don’t we have a break? No, come on, we can’t have our best and brightest out of commission if something happens; they’ll kill us all if you’re distracted, Moony.”) whereas Sirius would probably just make something up (“Alright, the pebble in my shoe has worn me down. We’re stopping for the night.”), and you doubt either of those will work for you. 

You were really mostly friends with Sirius before this…this whole thing (it feels a touch dramatic to call it the end of the world, but it has certainly felt like the end of your world), but you’ve become necessarily closer with the other boys over the past few weeks. Needing to rely on one another for survival will do that to you. Still, you’re nowhere near penetrating the bond they have with each other. 

Without James or Sirius to help you, you decide to take your own, simpler approach. 

“Let’s stop.” 

Remus turns to look at you, bemusement warring with agitation on his face. 

“It’s going to be dark soon, and we won’t find them then,” you reason. “We should set up camp.” 

Some of the knee-jerk indignation in Remus’ expression cools, but he still seems frustrated when he says, “James has the tent.” 

You know that. “I know that,” you say, “but aren’t we better off trying to get some rest and starting again in the morning than running ourselves ragged looking for them all night?”

Remus sees the logic in it, you know he does, but his worry for your friends is fighting against his better judgment. You can understand that; you’ve been trying to squash a similar anxiety all day. You’d seen Sirius and James apparate away from the skirmish you’d gotten into with some death eaters just a second before you and Remus had apparated yourselves, so you know that they didn’t get captured or killed. Not there, at least. There’d been some miscommunication in where you were all apparating to, though, and you and Remus had found yourselves on a bluff with no clue where the other half of your band had ended up. 

You comfort yourself by thinking about how competent they are, that they’re too smart to die in the woods, and they’ve got all the supplies besides. James being the one to lug that heavy pack around has finally paid off; you’re sure they’re thinking about how you and Remus are managing without food or camping supplies, but you’d rather be worried about than worry. 

You let your pack slip from your shoulders and kneel to start going through it. Remus is stubborn, but he’s too nice to argue with you if you make it clear that you’ve already made the decision to stop. You’re right; he drops his own pack beside you a second later. You pretend not to hear his tiny exhale of relief as he lowers himself to the ground. 

You and Remus have been carrying the nearly useless, lighter stuff. Extra clothes, a tarp for when it rains, the line you all hang your clothes on if they get wet, a first aid kit. You dig to the bottom of your pack, hoping someone’s forgotten a bag of dried fruit or something down there, but no luck. 

“Maybe…” You look around you. “Maybe we use some of the clothes to pad the roots of that big tree, and then we could use the tarp to block the wind.”

Remus nods. “That’s a good idea,” he says, the vexation fading from his features along with the pain. “How about I work on the protection spells while you grab some brush for a fire?”

“Sounds good.” You give him a smile, setting a hand on his shoulder when he goes to stand up. “You can do it from there.” 

You don’t give him a chance to argue, moving into the woods to collect sticks and pieces of dried grass. When you return, the campsite is gone, and you force your breaths to even despite the feeling of wrongness as you push through the barrier Remus has put up. You find him setting up the tarp on the other side. He looks better already, you think contentedly, and you begin selecting the thickest clothes for your nest. 

The silence between you isn’t easy, exactly; it’s bogged down with fear for your friends and of the death eaters that had already tracked you down once before. Still, you like that Remus doesn’t feel the need to fill your silence with chatter. Before long the two of you are curled up atop your makeshift beds, breathing frigid puffs of air into the night. You’d given up on adding more brush to the fire awhile ago. Short of sleeping with your head two inches from the flames, there’s not much you can do to combat the biting cold. It’s all you can do to keep your teeth from chattering as you press your knees tightly to your chest, huddling under the extra jackets Remus had found to use as blankets. 

There’s no hope of sleeping when you’re trembling like this, but you pray Remus is better off. James always says he runs hot as a furnace, so you’re hoping his own body heat is keeping him warm beneath his layers. You’d hate to think of what the cold probably does to his stiff joints. 

“You awake?” Remus’ breath should be hot against your neck, but by the time it crosses the space between you it feels as frigid as everything else. 

You roll over to face him. “Y—yeah.” Your breaths are shudding, lips so cold you can hardly feel them moving. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright,” he promises, the gentleness back in his voice now that he’s had a chance to rest. “Cold, though, so I imagine you must be even colder.”

You try to shrug, but movement only makes the chills worse, your body quivering violently against your will. 

Remus makes a soft pitying sound. “You want to share our coats?” 

He means your makeshift blankets. “I do—don’t want—to make you colder.” 

“That’s not how bodyheat works, love,” he says, sounding almost like he could laugh. He shuffles toward you, dragging his share of the spare clothes with him. “Come on.” 

You move towards him obediently. Remus brings you under the big coat he’s using for his torso, and you almost sigh at the warmth in there. You let your legs uncurl, getting as close to him as you can. 

“Oh.” It’s a surprised sort of coo, Remus’ arm wrapping around you to draw you closer. “Sweetheart, you’re freezing. Here, roll over.” 

He helps you turn with a hand at your hip, drawing you up against him. He really is emanating heat, warmth seeping from his front into your back and spreading from his arm around your waist to your entire midsection. Remus reaches over you, adjusting one of the jackets over your face, and you breathe hot air into the space, warming yourself. Your shivers die down as he begins to stroke slow, soothing circles about your navel. 

“Better?” he asks, once you’re nearly motionless against him. You hum, and you feel the quiet chuckle that reverberates through his chest. 

“Yeah,” you say, each exhale fanning hot against your face. “Thanks, Remus.” 

“I know what you were doing earlier,” he says, embarrassment quieting his voice. “I can look out for you too, you know.” 

You’re thinking of responding, but Remus’ body is so warm, and his hand on your stomach is so comforting, and you don’t get a chance.

[merakiui]

Horny gripping at the thought of apocalypse twst boys.

Apocalypse!Riddle who’s first child has been born and you’ve never seen the Riddle Rosehearts so tender before. He’s helping to feed them at night, change their diapers, and tells you how great you’re doing as a mother. And while Trey babysits, he’s pushing you to the bed and thrusting into you slowly, making sure to hit all your sweet spots while working on impregnating you again.

Apocalypse!Trey who’s fallen for one of the kitchen helpers. <3 You’re a common houseworker in the Heartslabyul compound who’s assigned to help Trey make food. Because you’re so obedient you’ve even got privileges to use a knife, rolling pin, and other kitchen tools. Trey loves how soft and submissive you are for him. He often leans closer to you than the other servants while talking, and hand-feeds you little pastries he made just for you while you blush. So one day, when he’s walking around he hears that you’re going to be on the upcoming bride selection. He ‘gently suggests’ to Riddle that he’s had his eye on you for a while. Would he mind saving you in the back for him?

Apocalypse!Cater who’s the only son in a family of sisters, who all have their own husbands and families. His parents are nagging him to get married soon so out of frustration one day he picks a random girl off the list and fucks her so good in the Heartslabyul headquarters <3 it was just gonna be a one off thing to make his parents mad but you’re so cute and he got attached~ Hope you don’t mind him cumming inside to keep you tethered to him. No other man will want you if you’re knocked up with Cay-kun’s baby!

Apocalypse!Deuce who never had a father. His mother struggled so hard to raise him in this world and give him the tools he needed to rise through the ranks. He worked as a guard for the compound that houses women last year and fell head over heels for you, a gentle little thing that helped patch him up after he got in a fight with another amateur soldier named Ace .This year he’s finally made the honor guard and is given the chance to take a wife. Deuce immediately goes to the list and tries to find your name, only to see it crossed off with the label Husband: Ace Trappola next to it.

Apocalypse!Ace, who’s been waiting for this all his life! His older brother and father have told him all about how he should pick a girl he’s gonna love for the rest of his life, but Ace has different plans. He wants to get back at Deuce for some prank he pulled a while ago, so when he sees Deuce’s beloved on the list, he signs up right away as a joke. He’s planning to erase his name after a few days and let Deuce put his on there instead. Only, when he actually begins to spend time with you, he gets more attached than he anticipated.

Apocalypse!Kalim who could have any bride he wants, and so many women want him too. He’s probably the kindest husband candidate out there, besides maybe Silver. Plus he’s a compound leader and super wealthy. Unbeknownst to the outside world, he already has his sights set on you, the girl who dressed as a boy to outsmart the system and avoid the selection. You were his right-hand guard for a while , until you were discovered and arrested. But instead of throwing you to the wolves, Kalim declares he’s fallen in love! You’re still his best friend <3 just now, you’ll be his wife too and have lots of his babies whether you want to or not. You’ve been married for five years and you already have seven babies, please stop this man…

Apocalypse!Epel who’s been mistaken for a girl so many times it’s not even funny. He’s taken to walking around shirtless sometimes so that no one tries to arrest him for wandering around without an escort as a girl. Now that he’s become Vil’s apprentice though, everyone knows how tough and manly he is! He’s been making lots of progress in training and Vil tells him he has a surprise waiting for him. Epel walks in the room to find you, his childhood crush, tied up in Vil’s bed, his long fingers massaging that tender, squishy spot inside you and making you shake like a leaf with pleasure. Vil tells Epel to come on in and close the door. Vil’s gone ahead and chosen a bride for him. He had Rook track you down from Epel’s home village. He’s already worked you open for him, so now he’ll show Epel how to take care of you properly. Then he’ll sit back and watch years of Epel’s pent up feelings for you come rushing out. It just so happens that Epel wants many children and that you’re ovulating that week. Ah, young love is so beautiful.

Apocalypse!Silver who’s been Malleus’ guard for a while. You’re a maid who works behind the scenes at the castle, seen but never heard, getting your duties done and bowing before leaving the room to wander quiet parts of the castle where you will not disturb the master. Silver, being the sleeper he is, often goes to find quiet spots in the castle to take a nap, and by chance encounter, meets you. He’s so chivalrous and gentle to you, unlike the other royal guard, Sebek. You two talk for a long, long time, and he feels his heart tugging him towards you. A few months of regular meetings later, and marriage season rolls around. Lilia has been watching his lovestruck son with the maid in the garden, and he just knows that you’re Silver’s true love! A conversation with Malleus results in an order issued to have you brought to Silver’s quarters, in a lacy lingerie set that resembles a wedding dress. You’re deposited on his bed, trembling, while he stands above you, eyes blown wide with lust. “She’s all yours,” Lilia says, patting his son on the shoulder and walking out of the room, closing the door behind him. He hopes Silver remembers the conversation they had about grandchildren earlier. He’s getting on in years and wouldn’t mind having a few little ones running around. But now, he has to go find Sebek and explain why the girl he had his eye on was taken off the list and put on a separate one for a private client.

- Heartslabyul anon

OTL OTL OTL OTL OTL OTL AAAAAAAAAAAA

Heartslabyul anon, all of these scenarios are so good omg!!!!! Especially that rivalry between Ace and Deuce. >:) ooooo Deuce is going to have Ace's head Riddle-style for stealing his bride!!! And Cater choosing you on a whim, only to get terribly attached!!! >v< that's really so Cater, isn't it? He never expects himself to actually fall for you, but he does and oh isn't he just so obsessed? You're totally perfect for Cay Cay! He'll treat you so well.

AND TREY!!!! OTL he really would be so humble and bashful about it when he mentions you to Riddle, but since Trey's such a trusted friend and righthand man Riddle can do him a solid. <3 aaaaaa and Silver with his sweet maid darling!!! <3 he just loves you so much; he's absolutely cumming inside as much as he can that night because it's hard to resist the temptation of knocking his beloved up and fulfilling Lilia's wish of providing him with grandchildren. AND THE FACT THAT SEBEK WAS EYEING YOU????? WOOOOOOO OTL poor Sebek's so huffy. >:( how unfair that the one human he can tolerate ends up becoming that Silver's bride instead!!! Silver and Sebek rivalry is also so good to think about...

[astro-naut9]

First try and study for your exams xD and second… how about the first apocalypses scenario shadowmech? :D

unlucky bastard, poor him!

[hood-ex]

Well now I need an AU where Dick, Kory, and Damian get sucked into a wormhole that dumps them in some void of an apocalypse world, and it's just them surviving together.