#blacken apocalypse AU

[mimithesketchfigure]

THE HIVE RULER (MOXIE REDESIGN)

[AGE]

- ???

[HEIGHT]

- 3’1

[WEIGHT]

- 37kg

[NATIONALITY]

- ???

[POWERS AND/OR WEAPONS]

- Red Claws, teleportation, warping reality

[CHARACTER BACKGROUND]

# [REDACTED]

[EXTRA INFO]

- she took the form of ~~Kana~~ when she was offered with her blood

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Eleven

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Titty sucking (my #1 idc), face sitting (SIMON IS A MUNCH), PIV (no protection, pls use it irl), u use sex as an escape from your grief (can be seen as dub-con from this), insinuation to a threesome

Taglist: @echo9821 @beebeechaos @h3art3at3rr @johannxseb @cndy-l0v3 @nylluns @pomegranategum @tapioca-marzipan

Masterlist

The morning air was silent, barely a whistle stirring through the house from a gentle ghast of wind. It was cold, colder than usual. Heat smouldered in your chest like a disease, rotting away at your flesh as you lay there, eyes puffy, swollen with grief.

Simon’s chest was bare, flushed against you in a protective grasp, hands cascaded around your waist. You stirred, reluctant to move against him, almost feeling a sense of comfort despite the circumstances. Your brain was wracked with paralysing images, haunting you in both slumber and the present.

Sure, you had seen death before, you lived around it, but never like that. Pain burnt into your skin, prickling against the hairs as you rubbed at your eyes, static filling your blackened vision. You wanted the feeling to go away, and you found that having Simon around, or anyone, helped with it.

Your hand was soft as you grabbed at his, tugging it into your smaller palm with a squeeze as the man huffed out a shallow breath. His voice was gruff, thick with sleep as he pressed against you, “Y’ awake, dove?”

You squeezed his hand again before pulling it into your chest, snuggling against his muscular forearm, tiny huffs leaving cracked lips. Unbrushed teeth grazed away at the dead skin, nibbling it into the wetness of your tongue before turning around.

Simon was silent, eyes stained with unwashed solitude and a hint of guilt. His lips quirked slightly as you glazed over his face, lingering on the tickles of stubble that decorated his jaw to the scar that dug into the tender skin next to his lip.

“How’d you sleep?” He soothed, rubbing at the hair that laced across your forehead, tucking it behind the small of your cold ear.

“Didn’t.”

Your voice was small, the room suddenly deafening with an ongoing orchestra of familiar whining, Cecil’s whining. Simon’s frown was apologetic and kind, eyes dampening with recognition of how you felt. He understood death too well. He was surrounded by it. In a way, he believed it followed him, that he was plaguing you with an inevitable curse.

Your kiss was harsh, teeth knocking against one another as you smothered any air between the two of you. Ghost’s reply was fast, gripping at the back of your neck before tugging you away with a confused look.  

Your whine was pained as you clenched your brows, “Please.”

His tongue wrapped through yours, pushing onto the pink muscle with force as he brought you closer to him, your body pulled onto the heat of his lap as you straddled his waist, boxers slipping lower down his toned stomach, a light trail of hair dancing under the fabric. Thickened hands worked up your shirt, groping at the fat of your tits as nipples hardened under his palm, pebbling quickly.

You were quick to pull away, tugging your shirt off as his eyes widened with awe, lapping in the sight of your bare chest. Simon was quick to tug you down, resting his tongue flat against a sensitive bud as you rocked against his abdomen, pussy clenched as you rode the tense surface.

Messy hair fell flat against your face as you sighed into the air, relishing in the pleasure that he drew from you as his teeth grazed against your tits, another hand tugging at the neglected nipple. Your panties nestled between your folds, catching on your clit as you jolted your hips back and forth, collecting moisture on both your underwear and his skin.

Your pants sounded breathless, fogging up the air with unworked steam as you sat further up on his chest, brown eyes watching you intently.

“Take your panties off,” Simon spoke, voice stern as he grabbed at your waist, jolting your movements. Your hips raised as you rolled to the side, tugging the flimsy material off with a quick pull, crawling back over to him as a hand raised to rub at the prominent bulge growing under his briefs.

Your grip was firm, holding the hardening shaft in your palm as you stroked the impressive length. The Lieutenant muttered out a groan, a wet patch slowly forming to the side of his cock.

“C’mere,” he whispered, tugging at your wrists, “sit on my face.”

You stilled for a moment, tilting your head with a shallow laugh, ready to object.

“I can take your weight and I can handle a hell of a lot more than a pretty woman sitting on my mouth.”

You were quick to position yourself over his mouth, hovering slightly with nerves before a stripe licked up your heat, your slick melting onto the warmth of his tongue as you yipped into the air, surprised. Simon was quick to pull you flush against him, immediately diving into your cunt with eagerness as he suckled at your puffy clit, groaning around you.

“Si-Simon, fuck-“

Ghost was fuelled on the sounds you made, lapping at you faster as you moved against him, riding his face with desperation as you mewled. His cock was painfully hard, resting against his boxers with a strain as he rutted into the air slightly in an attempt to release his growing tension.

You looked heavenly; your head rolled back as you lapped in the growing sensation that struck through you. You were distracted, too overworked with pleasure as you moaned, a permanent image of you canvased into the man’s mind.

His tongue worked towards your entrance, slurping around the hole obscenely, striving off the feminine taste of you. You could feel yourself growing hotter, the back of your neck wet with sweat, a light sheen of condensation glistening against your moving body.

Your thighs constricted around his head as you approached your release, bucking faster against him as he kept a firm hold on you. Your moan was thick, tight with pleasure as you came with a loud gasp, rocking the sight of you into the men’s brains, reminding them of your similar memories together.

Simon didn’t stop, continuing to lick and slurp at your slick as you writhed above him, crying out at the overstimulation before he released you with a loud breath, his mouth pulled back in a wet smirk. A tender grip pulled you down by the neck to meet his lips, the taste of you diving into your mouth as you moaned into the kiss, a wanton passion caressing you.

“Let me take care of you,” he breathed, pushing you down onto the sheets with a light force. You were quick to nod, spreading supple thighs with an eagerness you would have never imagined having. Sympathetic kisses ran up your thighs, leaving dewy stains of his lips around sheen skin.

He was quick to pull his boxers off after pressing a slight kiss to your swollen clit, wrapping a hand around the angry member with a quick tug, pearls of pre-cum swirling from the tip before it lubricated the shaft with a squelch.

Your thighs found their way around his hips, settling at his back with a tight grip as he leaned down, pressing at the entrance of your pussy as your mouth fell open, pain shooting through you from the stretch. A string of expletives ripped through your tongue as you bit down, hot metallic rushing into your senses as Simon cooed above you, wiping your forehead down.

You were so full, cunt worked open with his length as you choked on the fog of the air, windows stained with layers of moisture as you gripped onto the sheets below you.

“Doing so well, nearly there baby, you’re ok.”

Air struck from your lungs as he rocked himself in, nudging your cervix with a hiss as you tightened your legs around him. He stilled, letting you adjust as your eyes clouded with unshed tears, skin wrinkled with uncomfort as you breathed short breaths.

“P-Please move,” you whimpered, staring into his eyes with certainty as you brought his face down to kiss you. Your bodies mangled into one, his hands gripping your wrists as he held them above your head, fucking into you with a growing pace as you moved your mouths against one another, twisted into a world of just the two of you.

It was rare for Simon to be intimate with someone he doesn’t know, too caught up with his own thoughts to enjoy the warmth of another but he felt like he knew you. He had conjured up his thoughts and ideas on you before you even spoke to one another, another version of him in a different body.

Your sounds merged into one, endless streams of moans and cries exhibiting into the halls as limbs tangled against wet skin. You were tight, gripping him with an obscene strength as he melted your walls into putty, constricting to his dominating length. Your neck was struck as you lifted it back, too absorbed in the pleasure as he took the opportunity to pepper with the delicacy in front of him with marks.

Your noises were hypnotising, sucking him into your chest with an arrogant whine as he stared down at you, carob eyes melting into burnt honey, the scent of sex settling into his nose hairs as he breathed in.

“Right there,” you gasped, rocking your forehead against his with a bang as Simon growled, working his pace into deeper motions. In this moment, he felt he was made for this, to provide for you, to pleasure you.

“Fuck- so fucking tight. Pussy was made for me-“

Your orgasm was unexpected, sucking his cock in with a cut-off scream of pleasure as you clenched rapidly. Simon grunted, attempting to maintain his composure as his thrusts grew sloppy. He pulled out with a hiss, emptying onto your heaving stomach in a series of intervals, hand tugging his shaft.

Your body was wrecked, legs trembling with aftershock as you lay there breathless, a pool of come resting against your abdomen. Ghost was quick to stand, walking to the bathroom with a huff as he cleaned you up, placing a hand against your cheek with an amorous caress.

There was a subtle knock on the door, your body flush against Simon’s as he tugged you back up the bed into him. You recognised the warmth of Price’s eyes before you took in his figure, a bowl of fruit in his hardened grip.

“Morning, sweetheart. Brought you some fruit.”

Your smile was barely visible, only crinkling the skin around your mouth slightly as you looked at him. “Thank you,” you spoke, voice hoarse.

The Captain leaned down, pressing a kiss against your forehead as he left the fruit on the wood of the bedside table. Nimble fingers worked around his wrist, holding him in place as begging eyes stared at him.

“I want you both – please.”

[abbysbasement]

(Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader)

 — PAPI BONES

A/N: Hi, this is the formerly scrapped, 3x longer, 2 months writing project that I had because I wanted to fuck abby in a closet! this was actually supposed to be my first post on tumblr, but i got mad at it and sent it to the dungeon for two months :/ but yall wanted it, so I'm super happy i got to finish it, even though it took multiple days and cups of coffee to power through. sorry for the wait, hope you fuck wit her.

content tags (can you tell i don't want to write anymore ;w;): college au, childish antics at a big age, drinking, cool, ellie and dina are in this! kind of abstract sexual descriptions, assplay, cunnilingus (r!receiving), boob... touching? small mention of drugs because dealer!ellie, drunk sex, enthusiastic consent! :D, reader is kind of annoying sorry, men being assholes, reader catching feelings for a girl she fucked once, real.

wc: 7.6k ;w; (send help)

proofread?; barely.

tl : @clearheartgreyflowers, @oatmilkchaii, @ghostfacebunny, @ellsbclls (thank you to the sweetest deb @ellsbclls for helping beta read this, i appreciate your suggestions and encouragement and this would probably have been scrapped TWICE without your help ;w; )

synopsis: your best friend dina drags you to a college frat party. you hate shit like this, and you're painfully shy but when she does those puppy dog eyes you can't say no, so in a cruel twist of fate you end up in the closet with abby Anderson, and lose your virginity. yay college! (apart of the 'jackson university' thematic!)

Your idea of a Saturday night well spent wasn’t squeezing through a sea of sweaty backs; but like many things in your life, it wasn’t up to you, because you were easily swayed. Everything was overstimulating, the waves of bodies on bodies that pulsated and threw you between different poses and balances to keep on your feet, the ringing of laughter, of music, of every sound echoing in your head, around your body, vibrating through your very core. The smell of liquor and drunken antics and that one guy puking in the corner made you sick. But somehow, you were here, spurred on by peer pressure friendship and goodwill, trudging through the blackened room to your target; the snack table. 

Dina, your roommate, and determinant best friend held a firm hand on the small of your back, pushing you through the crowd and causing a small jolt to run down your body as she steered you around every obstacle and corner in the room. She was a woman on a mission, and the one who dragged you out of bed, convincing you - against your better judgment- that it was fatal that you accompanied her to a frat party. You knew she was good-natured, and your first friend when you moved 500 miles away from home to college. It was an instant click, but you were opposite best friends. 

Dina, ever the social butterfly, had connections in all different spaces; she could party with the sorority girls –hold the coke, please,– out-cram everyone, even the National Honor Society kids, all the way to the top of the class, hell, she was on the damn debate team, which was probably why it wasn’t a struggle to get a ‘yes’ out of you. You, on the other hand, were uncomfortable at bars, school sporting events, and parties, and one time you even thre– fuck, never mind. It was all effortless to her, in almost an enviable way. Dina loved to go clubbing, loved to hang, out, and she had been near-begging you to come out with her and her cool friends for months, not that you’re not cool, I mean. 

And somehow, despite everything, it worked. 

You could almost remember how you got there if you put away the sticky crunch of coke sticking to your shoes with each step, and reached back into the recesses of your mind. Or at least, back three-and-a-half hours ago. 

“They’re all great people, no weirdos, promise!” 

It was the emphatic plea made to you as you lay on your bed, queuing up the next episode of the apocalypse show you watched each week, watching her make Dina list off every reason why you just had to follow her out tonight. It was clearly very life-or-death shit to her, but you were unconvinced. It was just a party but there was going to be a smaller, more intimate kickback in a friend-of-a-friend’s basement. She was in the middle of getting ready, sitting at her school-issue desk and looking at herself in the mirror, dark hair coned over her head in a bun as she sat in deep concentration, words slurred and simple as she applied mascara, her mouth slacked into an O position.

“So you’re gonna like, fucking go, yeah?”

She said it as though it was obvious, like it wasn’t a question, but one look at you, –curled up in covers, laptop on chest, martini glass pajama pants and teddy bear teeshirt ON, unbothered– showed her that it would be a tall order, and that big guns would be needed. 

“Not interested, sorry.” 

“Not even a tinyyyyy bit?” Dina squeezed her fingers together for emphasis, throwing her head back in mock exhaust, a theatric groan rumbling out of her throat. “Not even a little bit.” You echoed, your roommate cutting her eye at you through her handheld mirror, but it was what it was. You weren’t into all of that stuff; the bump and grind of sweaty bodies wasn’t alluring, listening to someone else’s shitty music at ear-bleeding levels felt like hell, and if you wanted to get pitifully drunk and throw up all over yourself, there was a garbage can right under your bed. But your friend really, really, wanted your company and it made you feel, really, really bad to always blow her off. 

“Why are you going so hard on this?” You bemused as you propped up on your elbows, watching as she stalked around the room in her newly painted face, quickly rummaging through her drawer for a spare outfit. 

“Maybe because it bums me out to see my super cool roommate wasting away in her dorm every weekend?” In Dina’s mind, she was making a lot of sense. She was waiting for you to chime in, to say you know what, Dee? You’re right, I get it. But instead, you stared blankly, and she threw down her arms in exasperation. “You’re in fucking college, man! You don’t even wanna have one night of fun?”  She punctuated the ‘fucking’ with a wild gesture around her head, which made you chuckle to yourself.

“I mean, I was planning on wa–”

Your body was jostled by an insane amount of weight, almost turned completely over by two roughhousing dudes– a mess of limbs and arms, who looked at you and then at each other, as though they had spontaneously sobered up. You didn’t even have the time to start to be angry when they prattled off a blended, slurred apology and thrashed somewhere away through the mass of hands and faces in the dark room.

Fucking assholes, ruining the flashback sequence. 

The room was lit only by haphazard mood lights; soft LEDs and gaudy, flickering Christmas baubles, a solitary television, camped by stoners who laughed madly, and the dim auburn glow of the odd ceiling lamp nestled in the far back of the house. You were out of your element; you couldn’t dance, weren’t the most social, and even though you were with a friend, all of this made you feel very alone.

Dina cut through the crowd with her elbow, bellowing out “Ex–cuse me!” while she pushed you through gaps as they formed. Her voice fell to mutter again, barely audible, chunked and cut by the music bouncing from wall to wall, grumbling that she had places to be, and if E*&^$ didn’t get her off at least once, there would be hell to pay.  She was determined to get to the other side of the room, where it was arranged that by the chips, as smokers usually are, she would find her current fuckbuddy and her friends, waiting to hotbox and pregame a bit more before the room peaked. She was driven by horniness and selfishness, as one typically is after four shots of Tito’s vodka, and getting smoked out and ‘taken care of’ upstairs was half the reason she even came.

You’d never met her most recent suitor, and the question of her girlfriend was always met with a ‘no, she’s just my sneaky link.’ but you didn’t question it enough to know more. She was just the girl who Dina would go off campus to meet, and as long as she wasn’t a slasher, and her pre-rolls knocked you on your ass, it would be what it was. You were carried away by your friend’s excitement, by her heavy hand nearly lifting you off of your feet as she beelined to the kitchen, wrangling your twin bodies every which way. 

“Ellie! Ellie!” She yelled, jumping up and down a bit to compensate for her voice being swallowed by the bass. She burrowed through the wave, pushing you towards a girl leaning against the sink, nursing a red cup and low, hazy eyes. Her auburn hair was swallowed by a black docker, and a dark-coloured backpack jutted out from behind her as she smiled and waved the two of you –mostly Dina, into her orbit. She looped her head under your shoulder to be pulled into the strong hug of firm biceps, and Arms looked you over, offering a friendly nod. 

–

“It’s on streaming. You can watch ‘Many of Them’ literally whenever!”

“Live tweeting is a part of the experience.” You chided matter-of-factly, sitting up cross-legged. It wasn’t like the brunette was wrong, exactly, but you couldn’t give up too much at once. Going soft was not a part of the plan.

“Fuck, whatever– You know the girl I’ve been hooking up with, right?” Her eyebrow raised at your dispassionate ‘not really.’ “Well you know her fucking joints, she sells– weed, shrooms… pills?” Dina listed off with her finger, mulling over the last detail for a second, then confirming in her head with a nod. It’s fine, you’re cool, and the two of you had always bonded over your love of recreational joy anyways. “So, if you wanna smoke orsomething– I got you, all you have to do is show up.” Her hands were up almost sheepishly as she tested the waters, but you weren’t super convinced, and your idea of fun wasn’t exactly playing wingman while she got tongue-fucked by a drug dealer, and the pregnant pause was enough to cue her into having to bring out the big guns. 

“-And, and!  I'll wash all our dishes, and cleanyoursideoftheroomforaweek.” 

Damn, she practically ran through that last part, so under her breath you knew she was hoping that you didn’t hear. But you did, and for a second you could almost see a smirk play on her face as your eyes lit up. She was always up for a good bribe, and even though she would act annoyed, it was great for breaking you out of your shell. She would offer to watch the zombie show if you came out to the bars in your college town with her, pizza if you confessed to your crush instead of instastalking them three times a day, even though it didn’t work, –oh well, shooters shoot– and tonight? A week free from chores if you just spent a couple of hours in your own personal hell. Yeah, you would give her this one. 

“Now we’re talking. If you want someone to be the lookout while you and Jesse Pinkman go at it, who am I to deny?” You teased, kicking your legs over the edge of the bed. 

Your roommate craned her head up, momentarily stopping her mission of rifling through her clothes. “Who said that?”

“You’re in your ‘good panty’ drawer.” You whispered cheekily. 

“Well, you got me. Someone has to get fucked around here.”

“Oh fuck you, bitch!” You laughed, throwing your pillow, hitting smack in the center of her chest. 

Dina bounced around the room, practically billowing with glee. There was a descending, barely audible ‘fuck yeah’ as she traipsed down the hall towards the bathroom, rounding the corner and disappearing from your periphery. 

“By the way, you know Jesse’s last name is Huang, right, not Pinkman? And we’re uh– not together anymore.” Dina shouted through the silence.

“That’s a character from Breaking Bad. It was a joke– because he’s a drug de–” You stopped yourself midway. “Never mind. It’s not funny if I explain it.”

“Oh– I never watched Breaking Bad. Too Long.” She deadpanned. You chuckled to yourself, shaking your head as you slid your way off the bed. 

That’s how you found yourself in a dimly lit bathroom, missing the comfort of your memories as ‘Ellie’ rolled a blunt. You stood leaning against the door and Dina sat on the closed toilet seat. The dealer sealed the last of the leaf with a flick of the tongue and a lick of spit, maintaining direct eye contact with Dina so she could not-so-subtly show off. She passed it to the brunette first, who mimed a cheeky, ‘why thank you’ and drew poutily. You three sat there for a while, smoking and talking, steam from the hot shower wafting above your heads as music pumped through the foundation of the house. 

There was laughter outside of the door and it soon became awkward for you, Ellie and Dina finishing the blunt, –you were a lightweight– and chatting idly as Dina traced a fingertip against the outline of the tattoo Ellie was showing off. 

The temperature of the tiny room ran hotter between their reddened eyes, and it was as though you were being banished by a galactic force. You couldn’t mistake how the red-haired girl’s glance caught an extra second or so at the way Dina’s body was hugged just right in her party dress, cleavage strained against the fuchsia PVC of her neckline, and how she bit the corner of her lip when her eyes hooked on a dark mole on Dina’s breast that was framed by the feathers of her black hair.  

It was time to go, unless you were interested in seeing your best friend get dug out on the countertop.

You were already a little bit wobbly, hearing a giggle that slipped from Dina’s lips morph into a squeak as you slipped out of the crack you pulled in the door and into the fray, getting carried down the stairs and back over to the drinks. You crossed over a kissing couple, cutting into their makeout and heavy petting session, and through a huddled together group of girls whispering something about seeing an ex across the room. 

You gripped onto the countertop for stability when you finally broke free from the pulsating wave of bodies. There was a bit of everything surfing in deep bowls of ice and water, open bags of chips and snacks bunched up together on the island. You could not be sober for this shit. You wedged up the pop cap on a hard seltzer and brought it to your lips, the spirit coating your tongue and boiling its way into your stomach. There it was again, the familiar warm feeling in your hands and feet, the soft pressure already creeping across the flat of your face. Yeah, now that was it. The anxiety began to melt away, and you leaned against the countertop, flexing your legs. 

Wow, they’re inviting giants to the shindig too. You laughed to yourself as the scarlet-lit ocean parted, and a tall, wide figure walked through and into the darkness of a descending flight of stairs. If only it was that easy when you needed to piss, notwithstanding that you had already been in the bathroom.

 It’s fun being sardonic sometimes. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see your roommate coming down the stairs, the dealer’s deft fingers pulling down part of her dress that rode up her ass.  She arched her head up, straining left and right like the eye of a submarine as she looked for you; her eyes lit up, waving to you as she fisted her companion’s belt loop, bouldering through the sea of people. She was high as fuck, if her bright pink eyes were enough to speak to it, and your gaze lingered over the new expanse of a deep purplish hickey on her neck, small indents from teeth glimmering with saliva in the light.  

There was that hotness again that burned in the pit of your stomach, not from drunkenness or anxiety, but the can of fruity liquor in your hand covered up for the embarrassing flush of your wild cherry-coloured cheeks. You peeled your eyes back up to her face and smiled dumbly. You’d never had *that* before. You’ve watched things before at least, and obviously, touched yourself to the thought, but you’ve never had someone to fool around with in bathrooms or hold your skirt when it rode up.

There was your first kiss, but it was in middle school, so it didn't count. It was all clammy lips, two noses that couldn’t get the space between them *quite* right, and an overzealous set of chompers that left you with a bloody lip. Actual horseshit, but somehow, a core memory. It was annoying in a way, how it just didn’t come to you, but you wanted to be wanted. To be lusted over, desired even in that casual touchy way that simmered between your best friend and the girl you didn’t know very well.  Dina was making grabby hands at you, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. Your drink bobbed as she whisked you to her will, you and Ellie sharing a knowing look as she pushed your bodies through the hall and down the darkness of the stairwell. 

– 

“RULES ARE SIMPLE,” some asshole in a hat bellowed as he stood over all of you who sat in the circle, mildly drunk off your asses and looking for easy fun. He held up a black beer bottle, carrying it like a trophy and swishing it around your noses for a closer look. “You kids might know seven minutes in heaven.” You didn’t know him, but according to Dina, this was his house, his party, and his very annoying rules. A light patch of raised skin played against his nose as he scrunched his nose over and over again, hands on hips, clearly trying to steal back whatever thought the liquor took from him. Jason, right? 

Whatever. 

“But we’re all grown-ups here, so I present to you–” He rolled the bottle in hand, clearly soft-launching his bright idea. “Fifteen minutes in purgatory!” There was a deep groan radiating from some, but there was a small minority that exploded in cheers, and whoops. “Pretty self-explanatory, two adventurers venture deep into purgatory, and come out forever changed.

“Two adventurers go deep into purgatory,” He gestured his head at the foreboding broom closet in the back of the room. “And return forever changed.” 

“We’ll use the bottle to choose our unlucky voyagers, and you’ll spend fifteen minutes in the closet.” He explained, dropping the mystique in the second half. “Alright kids, let’s start; and just for the record– If you’re a pussy, get the fuck out of the circle!”

The drunken cast of partiers whooped and cheered, hyping each other up, spilling beer out of red cups as they gestured wildly, entirely too grown for this. The room played ‘not it’ to pick who got the first spin, and the unfortunate soul was a blonde who sat cross-legged, blank-eyed at the black glass handed to her, nodding her head tersely. 

“We got our very own Abigail Anderson– !” Her eyes narrowed. “Andddd….” Hat praised, cueing her to spin. She took the bottle, pointing the tip towards herself and then spinning it, the glass doubling, tripling the circle, making you dizzy chasing it with your eyes, and everyone sat with bated breath. It slowed and slowed and slowed, until, like ugly fate, it stopped at your feet.

“Our newbie!” He got up to cheese, leaning over you, placing his hands over your shoulders, and rocking you from side to side. You laughed awkwardly, putting your palms up defensively at nothing. 

“Um– uh…” You were at a loss for words, only cut off as his head shot into your field of view, hot, hopsy breath tanging your nostrils. “What, you scared?” He taunted, all eyes on you, watching as you nursed a deep discomfort about the whole thing behind an uneasy smile.  

“You’re a fucking asshole, Jordan.” The girl, Abby, groaned. She looked up at you from her downward pointing head, swishing her bottle of hard cider in the hand propped over her knee. Jordan, that was the name of this dickhead. Yeah, fuck him. “If she doesn’t want to get in the closet, she doesn’t want to get in the closet. I’ll just spin again.”

Dina cut in, the redhead still leaning lazily against her. “Yeah, don’t–dont be a dick, Jordan.” Her face was tight, and Ellie was annoyed because Dina was annoyed, and the room held a pregnant silence, and even though it wasn’t your fault, you felt all too responsible and all too uncomfortable with all of the eyes watching you.

“It’s fine, guys. Let’s all– eh, chill out, okay? I’m going to take the dare.” You leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper, trying to steal back the vibe, trying to replace the tension with playful drama as you circled your head around, wiggling the fingers slightly of your held-up palms. “Because I’m not a little bitch.”

The crowd exploded in raucous laughter, each voice clashing together and mimicking the sound of a pipe bursting. You looked over at your partner, who seemed pleasantly surprised, a smirk playing on her peach lips. She placed down her bottle and stood, and as she towered over you, you realised that maybe you were playing with fire. She was scary and nonchalant, but the outer workings of her face were soft and gentle. She didn’t look like the girls in the videos you watched at night; she was something different, uncharted, and before you knew it, a nervousness, and something lower, darker, ran through your body. 

Then it was time to go, you piling in first, looking around at some of the half-darkness in the room, barely enough to fit two people in. 

The asshole patted the girl’s back, corralling her into the closet behind you. Blood rushed to your head, the pressure was too great, like getting skullfucked through your ears. show her a good time, you could hear him say, and then something that you couldn’t quite understand over the bass. The mountain’s eyes narrowed, but before she could shoot back, her large body crashed into yours and the space became tighter and tighter, just enough for the two of you to put your arms out to either side or turn around. For a split second, you could see Dina’s face from over Jordan’s shoulder, tightened in concern, a timid thumbs up at the side of her head. Then, he closed the door, and the last of the light slipped out through the crack in the wall. 

There was a deep silence, and somehow, like the hazy feeling you get right before you wake from a dream, you were chest to chest in the darkness with her blue eyes staring back at you, damn-near bioluminescent. You’d seen her around, because everyone sees her around, but it hadn’t registered that the giant who had parted all of those people in the crowd like they were just water, was standing right in front of you. Outside you could hear the rumble of the music, vibrations of the bass wrapping around you and shaking you from the inside out. The closet was too tight, too warm, too filled with smells from towels and coats and folded blankets and dusty boxes of light bulbs and two cramped, awkward bodies. 

Suddenly, you felt all too intimidated.

“You’re Abigail, right?” You questioned. “Off the rugby team?”

“Abby.” You couldn’t read her face in the dark, and though she spoke pointedly she didn’t seem angry, but the accidental overstep was enough to make you want to dig a hole through the floor with your bare hands and die in it. “And yeah– captain, of the rugby team.”

“Oh, sorry, sorry.” You yielded. “So… what are we supposed to do? In here, I mean.” You gestured at nothing, knocking some washcloths from a top shelf down in the dark. “Ah, damn it.” You cursed under your breath, bending down to pick up the small stack. You could hear Abby behind you, sucking her teeth with a judgy hum.  Her brows were almost touching her eyelids, captured in secondhand embarrassment, and she almost felt bad for how awkward you were, scrambling to pick them up from the floor.

  If you could see her face, you’d be able to tell how her eyes flicked up and down her body, taking everything in. Your black skirt slid slightly to bunch at the front, uncovering portions of your doughy thigh and the ever-so-tiniest range of fabric hiding your prettiest secret. She had to tear her eyes away, almost. She jumped, even, glad you couldn’t see as you popped back up. 

You were cute, holding the disheveled stack in your hands, a look of sheer pride on your face. You looked over to the side, tossing them unceremoniously on a free shelf, gravity taking a couple back to the ground. Your sated chuckle, the way your tits pushed up slightly, illuminated, almost framed like art by the neckline of your cream cardigan made her hungry. She pushed the ideas of what she wanted to do with them out of her mind, but damn, she could think about some things that would make the devil embarrassed. She stomped down her desire, stoicism crossing her for a second, only for her to open it back up on second thought.

“They want us to fool around, fuck, ideally.” She started, analysing your expressions for any hint of discomfort at the conversation. “But– we don’t have to do anything.” She tried to cut some of the thick discomforts with a placating smile, almost lost in detail in the low light. She was huge, more so than you, or most anyone else you knew, the jutting-out edge of a shelf knocking the back of her head every time she leaned her head back in the tight space. The hard washboard of her torso was framed by an opening of a grey hoodie and barely much else, just the thick band of her boxers peeking from her sweatpants, and the black of a cropped tank top that stopped right below her bra line. 

“Jordan… is typically a good guy, but when he gets drunk he’s a total POS.” Abby was sallow-faced, pursing her lips, tension running through her jawline. “I shouldn’t have let him put you on the spot like that. So… I’m sorry that you got pressured to get in here.”

“It’s fine, I just.” You started, ready to say that big phrase, the one that slightly burned your back to admit. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“What, played seven minutes in heaven? Yeah, kind of a jackass thing to suggest in your twenties.”

Shit. She was going to make you say it. 

“No. I mean I’ve never–” and you thought your tiny voice couldn’t get any tinier. “had sex before.” 

Abby breathed in the deepest sigh, pure anxiety crossing her face for a split second, before she was feeding you apologies. “It’s fine, we don’t have to do anything we can just sit here and talk. Or be in silence if you want it’s alr–”

“I want to do it.” You said doggedly, pressing yourself into a tiny corner. Her brow perched, and there was something in those narrowing blue eyes that said she didn’t believe you. You were pigeontoed, legs shifting against one another, declaring in your firmest voice that you wanted her to take your virginity. 

“Are you sure?” She breathed out, stepping a bit closer. “You don’t have to feel pressured to do anything because you think they want a show.”

“Oh, my god.” You were pouting, annoyed. “I can choose if I want to have sex you know, and I want to have sex right here right n–”

She kissed you, softly as possible, testing your waters to see how far you were willing to go. Her hands were patient, one lightly knotted in the woolen knit of your cardigan to lightly pet your lower back, the other making gentle grips on your sweatered arm. Her fingers were barely bruising, gripping around your wrist almost tight enough, and a tiny shockwave coursed between your thighs and convinced you that you wanted more. In this low light, in this dark room, in this place between space and time, you wanted to be her conquest. To be taken, touched, manhandled, to be made to weather the storm of her overwhelming strength against you, lost in the middle of the ocean.

It was perverted, almost, how the idea of her showing restraint raised hairs on your skin, how you deepened the kiss like you were being overcome with an insatiable, bloody hunger. You had to take back the moment, to steal her attention in a way she couldn’t deny before she thought you were all talk; you stepped closer, positioning yourself so that her thigh hovered right below the heated space under your skirt. Her hand was warm, soft as you grabbed it, moving it lower, deeper down the divot of your back and where the fat of your ass connected. She caught on, groaning into your lips as she kneaded around your body, her tongue sweeter and heavier against yours, working that one damned hand up your skirt to cup bare skin. 

You jumped. 

As fast as it had come, her hand slipped back from under your skirt and the touch was lost completely, awkwardly hovering for a second until Abby pulled it back into her pocket and stepped back. You were miserable, eyes welling up in frustration like a lost dog at the lack of feeling. She was pulling you into insanity but was too chivalrous to drown you in it, rubbing the back of her neck sheepishly as she looked down at you.

“Fuck– didn’t mean to be aggressive like that. I–” The redness bled across her cheeks, freckles on full display as her fingers met the wet spot that you were hiding, your hands guiding hers to the space between your thighs. There was a pause, a knowing, a challenge between the two of you as an unknown heat spread throughout your bodies, and you collided once more. The blonde’s mouth sucked a nasty pressure into your throat, agitating it with bites and licks as her head traveled deeper, hands playing at the front of your sweatered torso to undo the buttons that held your breasts hostage. 

Her entrance was assured as she popped the loops open, fingers gripping the fabric of your camisole and lifting up, taking your bra with it. She nipped at the exposed flesh, heat from her mouth traveling directly to your vagina, clit throbbing hard with need. Abby engulfed a nipple with the wetness of her tongue, closing her lips around the rapidly hardening bud to pull it to full attention, chuckling as she scraped the flesh with her teeth. The wet head was replaced with her palms, each thumb and forefinger rolling one or the other. The sensitivity of the tiny flesh was insane, enough to make you whine out loud as she continued, better than anything you had ever done to yourself. 

You were biting your lip, eyes big and doe-like as you waded through your pleasure, soft pants heaving your chest. She fished it out from between your teeth and hooked it within her own, popping the plump flesh into her mouth as she pared yours with her tongue. You swore the room was spinning, a wetness slicking between your thighs, a drip positioned between two pairs of hungry lips. You could’ve spent all fifteen minutes– or an eternity, in this beautiful hell, giving and taking and relishing in a different, sort of strange type of want.

“Don’t stop.” You moaned in between stolen breaths, the blonde chasing your mouth each time you pulled away.

“For you, pretty?” Gripping you tighter for emphasis, pressing you closer into the wall, angling further between your spread legs. “Never.” 

It was like you were some weird intoxication to her, a drug that she couldn’t get enough of. How your ass molded right into the divots of her palms, those tiny moans that rang through the cage you two were in, the rapid beating of your heart rippling through your body. She wanted to peel your cardigan from your shoulders, wanted to shred your clothes from your body and take you however she liked, and make you feel better than you knew what to do with. Needed to make you scream and fuck you until you cried. But it was your first time, so she resigned to being gentle and soft, like you were a little deer in the forest, and she was trying to get close without scaring you off. so she would give you only what you needed. 

She didn’t have a lot of strong feelings about that nickname she had earned in sophomore year, War Machine, from all of the pretty girls she ran through and left unable to walk, unable to talk for a couple of days or more. but when Jordan said it, in front of you, in front of sweet and innocent, pretty and tiny *you* she could’ve reeled back and torn him apart. But she still didn’t want to scare you. So she had forced an alright, the one a child forces when they get scolded, and hid the burning in her palms that made her want to fight in the pocket of her pants. 

Your eyes bored x-rays through her formidable thighs as she bent her knees to squad before you, strong hands rubbing up and down your thighs with contrasting gentleness to the hard angles of her face, the brow that was crooked down slightly in concentration, the slightly parted lips playing with mischief as they took you in. You were frightened for just a second, until Abby looked up at you with sympathetic eyes, a hand leaving your thigh and linking with your fingers, guiding you to the base of her skull to envelop her honeyed strands. 

She was back at you, the darkness in your stomach leaking out as you palmed her head, and she ran her hands upward, more upward, until the ruffles of your cotton skirt were overturned in her palms. From the waist down, you were completely exposed, a wet spot working itself into your panties from your innermost recesses and a musky scent betraying your shyness. 

Abby pressed herself gently into the fabric, her fat lips creating a cool pressure against the hot flesh, her nose itching lightly into your pubis. You bucked your hips unconsciously, nearly fucking her face in your abandon. A vibration from her laugh traveled through you, nestled inside of you, and more wetness began to slick your channel. That friendly ache formed in your rapidly hardening clit, and a similar pain throbbed in your pinkie and middle finger. Her other hand moved up, gripping fistfuls of your ass, less forgiving now, and forcing a squeak from your lips. 

You were dumbstruck; a stranger’s hands all over you, mouth nearly on top of your sacred place, nearly leaking from sheer lust. She had barely done anything. Your jaw slacked, and in your mind you felt like a fool, lamenting how you thought your first time would be special. Soft circles rubbed into your inner thigh as she pulled your legs apart, peppering angel kisses throughout the little divots. 

“S’okay, baby.” Her voice was barely a whisper, a tiny encouragement that calmed the buzzing in your mind. “Tell me how you want me. I’m yours.” 

and you thought that declaration would destroy you,’ I’m yours.’ and it felt very, very real. 

“I want you to touch me.” You said, barely a whisper, nodding as she pressed her face to your thigh, sliding down your panties to about knee-level. It was as though she had seen heaven’s gate open, awestruck at the blood rushing to engorge your lips, how your clit stood on end without even being touched. The thatch of hair curling between your thighs and around your depths. She had to have a taste, and there wasn’t much room for second-guessing as she pressed her mouth to the hot spot and flattened her tongue directly against the wettest space.

Juicy noises slid from her mouth as she rolled your clit between her tongue and sucked sharply with her lips, and it was as though you could’ve sunk to the floor, the way your legs became distinctly not yours. It was enough, enough, not enough, then too much. It was like you were an endlessly gushing fountain as Abby’s wet, firm tongue parted your lips, dipping ever so lightly into your hole as she licked out a string of nectar from your drooling cunt. It was as though you were animated, possessed even, as your hands flew into her hair, pushing her head down further and further, to that release you chased violently and madly. 

Abby was humble, letting you guide her where you needed her; she was soft at first, but you didn’t want soft, you wanted more. 

She obliged. 

The blonde slipped her fingers between your thighs and parted your slit, opening up an endless, waiting tightness. She was intrepid, pressing through your clenching muscle and opening you up more than you had ever done; thick digits tearing through you, fucking your pussy at an unforgiving pace, concentration forming in the muscles of her neck. You hid an inhuman growl in the pit of your throat, in the crook of your sweatered elbow, and she moaned out, satisfied with that which she had created inside of you. You were fucking her face in a tight, dirty closet, calf propped over a muscled shoulder for support, the heel of your booties pressing into the wall, locking her in.

 It was as though the two of you were fighting, every roll of your hips she chased with her head, every time you shied away from the pleasure she held you harder, taking you even hungrier, diving deeper to a spot you didn’t know was there; every taut pull at her scalp met with an even tighter grip into the flesh of your plush ass. The pads of her fingers violated the sopping warmth of your cunt, and you clenched your stomach unwittingly, walls flexing, holding her hand there. Drool dripped from between her lips, pooling and soaking down into the fibres of an old shag rug, caked with dust and whatever else. 

Your own slipped between your lips before you could suck it back in, and the silver trail bounced, the way it does when it breaks, and the thick drop cascaded down her temple, getting lost in your brow. The piece that was yours snaked down your collarbone and between your breasts and somehow, you felt a connection. 

Abby snorted, sucked in a breath as her fingers left you empty. Fuck. She didn’t go for her face, wiping them on the skin of your pussy, they traveled upwards, firm grips on your ass. She rubbed the flesh as though she was throwing clay, stretching the skin between her rough fingers, calluses on her palms coasting over every bump and groove. She had found what she had wanted, craning her neck lower, lower, until you could just barely see her eyes. Her fingertips prodded, greedy, opening your lips, tongue leching against your soft fruit as though she was funneling the juices directly into her mouth. You thought your thighs would give out but she held you, stronger, and you fed her willingly. 

Her middle finger dipped down into the slit, collecting juices, stealing a breath from your lungs, you wanted to scream her name but it was caught inside of you, so you stood slack-jawed, fuck drunk as she abused your walls, fucking every ridge painfully slow. The tight hole stretched around the meatiness of her finger, and she hooked it as though she was searching, retreating from the warmth, slick with your nastiest of liquids. Again, she split your ass with one hand, and you clenched your tightest hole without thinking about it. 

“Don’t worry,” She said, muffled against your mound as she latched against it once more, “gonna help you so fucking good.” You were confused, but you trusted her, a complete stranger. For a second you began to ask what there was to worry about, but your mind was pried away from you as you felt the pressure of her coated fingertip tracing around your asshole. A gentle kiss played at the head of your pussy, comforting you as you nodded your head wildly, something of a ‘yes’ flying from your throat as her middle finger parted that threshold. 

Your mind exploded, head shooting straight up into the air, a small yelp burning into a silent open-mouthed cry. You were spinning, the room was spinning, your body heated up instantly. Then, the wet warmth traveled back to your clit, her opposite hand nestling two fingers into your aching, needy twat, her tongue lapping as her fingers resumed digging and that one damned finger fucked in and out of your tightest hole painfully slow. 

She fucked you like an animal; you cried out like a bitch in heat. The music trembled through your ears, and you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough, that everyone would hear, everyone would know. You were both drunk and this didn’t matter, didn’t mean anything, but she was bottoming her tongue out in you and you wanted it to mean a lot. Girls talked and you fucking hated them all. She was loose, she got around, and you wanted to be hers. 

You wanted to capture her and be interesting to her and walk with her hand on your lower back around campus. Wanted her callused fist in your hair, around your neck as she took you every night. Wanted badly to fucking cum, to open the portal, to wash her face with this unholy water, wanted to kiss wet lips and taste everything. Wanted to know if she could ever like you, after you gave it up, quickly, bellowing like a foghorn against a rack of coats. You wanted to be kept, to keep her spit inside of you like a keepsake but she sucked it back in a quick second, before you could even feel her cheeks hollow between your thighs, and felt dirty for even thinking of it. 

A sweet pain formed between your thighs and you couldn’t stop the groan that rose from your throat, every muscle in your face clenching and unclenching, your eyes crossing as your orgasm came quickly into view. Abby fucked you through it, fingers slow and forgiving. It was as though a stream of slowly descending tidal waves were crashing against you, and you needed more, it hurt but you needed more. Something deep burned inside of you, endlessly hot, and you wondered how she could stand the heat as she hit it over and over again.  You sobbed, and swore that you could feel a tear roll down your cheek, feeling the need to rub your eyes for good measure.  

She looked up, entranced, face softening for a second, watching as you gave up your mind to your body. There was a hard knock at the door, the music lowered a decibel, silence filling the two of you, her fingers still deep inside of your two holes. A sing-song voice bellowed out ‘five minutes!’ and the darkness ridged her eyes. 

For the first time, her voice was hard, removing her hand from your cunt, making sure to curl the one in your ass tighter in compensation. She slammed the door twice with her fist, the frame bulging in a way that made you fear the whole thing would just fall down. “Fuck off.” Her voice was loud enough to tear through the uncomfortable tension. There was an apprehensive, ‘woah man,’ that you could barely hear, and the music regained, the party rejoiced, and hopefully, the fear of God being struck enough in your host to leave well enough alone. 

Her lips were still slick, soft, kissable with your juices. She flashed you a genuine, pretty smile.  Her hands gripped a little too tight but you wanted it all. She looked down at the mess between your trembling thighs, then at your heavy, panting face. She leaned back on her heels as a wide smile played on her face, satisfied with herself. A windy chuckle passed through her glistening lips, wiping her mouth and chin on the inside of her hoodie. “Fuckin’ insane.” She breathed out in between pants. 

“Abby.” She said, as though the strength of your orgasm traveled through your brain and made you forget the events of the last 15 minutes. “Constance Hall. Dorm 425 on the second floor.” It was as though your heart skipped a beat, but you punched it down, a weak smile playing against your lips. 

She was fucking disheveled, almost inhaling the last sweet smells of your pussy, creating a memory of the flavour and filing it away in her mind for safekeeping. She was delicate, pulling your white panties up to your thighs again, soothing a finger where those soft, curly pussy hairs were hidden again. She let down her hands, skirt furling down, covering the marks of dark possession that she left behind. “Come see me again sometime, ‘kay?” She chuckled, giggled even, and that glint in her eyes was enough to make you faint. 

She stood up, waiting for you to compose yourself and straighten everything out before she pushed open the now-unlocked door and peeked her head out.

Jordan was already on her as the door flew open, and you could hear his hushed nosiness as you hugged the wall and tried to act casual, eyes locked on her retreating back as she reentered the room, light haloing her. ‘So what happened?’ you swore his lips read, and your stomach dropped. But she cut through his questions, loud enough for you to hear, convincing enough that he wouldn’t have anything to run his mouth about later on. 

“Nothing man, we were just talking.”

Maybe she was actually just that charming. 

Yeah.

[merakiui]

TWST APOCALYPSE AU.

ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀʙʟᴏᴛ ᴠɪʀᴜꜱ — a horrifying infection that has existed for centuries. it doesn't appear to be contagious (yet), but it has devastating effects on those who fall ill with it. it appears to manifest from within a mage, but researchers at S.T.Y.X. note there are external and internal factors that contribute to the speed at which it spreads. it may be possible to treat an infected individual, but it is difficult if not caught by the second stage and requires immense patience, effort, and resources. the virus appears to deteriorate both the body and mind, rendering the infected a mindless monster after a certain period of time.

it is recommended that you avoid those who are beyond saving, for they are highly dangerous!

ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴏɴ ꜱʏᴍᴘᴛᴏᴍꜱ — officially identified by the lead research team at S.T.Y.X., these are indicators that one has been infected. [please note that case-specific symptoms, while rare but not undocumented, seem to manifest in especially skillful mages.]

☒ patient coughs up a black, tar-like substance (this is known as and has been identified as blot).

☒ patient experiences heightened emotional fragility (especially for negative feelings).

☒ patient develops unsettling, pitch-black coloration on their fingertips.

☒ patient suffers from fatigue, persistent headaches, and irregular body temperatures.

☒ patient's tears and saliva are dark and thick; near-syrupy. gums and teeth are affected as well.

☒ patient claims to hear and see things that are not there (e.g., the wrong reflection in a mirror, a strangely-shaped shadow, voices).

☒ patient's magestone blackens with blot.

ꜱᴛᴀɢᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ɪɴꜰᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ — officially identified by the lead research team at S.T.Y.X. after studying countless subjects.

STAGE 1.

little to no immediate changes or symptoms. patient appears mostly fine. they may not even realize they are infected at first and will only complain of feeling itchy or irritable. magestone has just begun to tarnish.

STAGE 2.

common symptoms begin to emerge and will only worsen with time. magestone slowly accumulates blot. fingertips will have begun to blacken. minor headaches stretch on into longer periods of time and grow to be more painful. patient may appear uncharacteristically volatile. blot eats away at the patient's magic reserves. it will spread quicker depending on how much magic is overused and if the patient shows extreme emotional distress. patient develops a cough.

STAGE 3.

patient will begin to see and hear things. S.T.Y.X. named these shadow apparitions phantoms. patient may cast a shadow (phantom) that is not their own. staining on the patient's fingertips will have spread further through the fingers by this point. magestone is very cloudy. patient is prone to coughing fits. patient is unable to recognize bodily cues for hunger or exhaustion. feelings of emptiness persist. patient may experience a stabbing sensation in their chest or stomach areas. patient may not seem very emotionally or mentally present. spotty memory; they struggle to recall what or why they are doing certain things. patient appears almost lost. patient's body undergoes various external and internal changes: loss of appetite, stained fingertips, rotting gums, weakened teeth and bone structures, tears and saliva take on the consistency and color of blot, inability to fall asleep, etc. the blot eats away at the patient from the inside after magic reserves have been depleted. patient is dying.

STAGE 4.

magestone is consumed by blot and is no longer safe to use. patient's internal structures are compromised and failing. blot sustains the patient; they become a host for the blot, which acts almost like a parasite. patient is no longer conscious or living. peculiar structures like extra limbs or unusual growths sprout from and deform the body. it is consumed by blot. the air around the infected patient is thick with a high concentration of blot. patient only speaks in guttural growls and struggles with certain syllables. some are capable of coherent, intelligent speech, but in many cases communication and language are usually lost, as is the memory of who they once were. S.T.Y.X. has yet to identify the lifespan of an overblot (the term coined for those who have succumbed to the infection), as some overblots can exist for a very long time. at this stage, an overblot patient is highly dangerous and hostile. avoid contact at all costs. [additional research on this stage and others is currently being conducted.]

ᴄᴏᴍᴘᴏᴜɴᴅ ɪɴᴅᴇx — below are the dormitory strongholds with notable members and their current status.

RAMSHACKLE.

☒ yuuken enma - not infected. immune.

☒ yuuka hirasaka - not infected. immune.

☒ yuuta mito - not infected. immune.

☒ grim - suspected to be infected. stage: unknown. currently missing. last seen: ???

HEARTSLABYUL.

☒ riddle rosehearts - infected. stage 1.

☒ trey clover - not infected.

☒ cater diamond - not infected. currently at risk.

☒ ace trappola - not infected.

☒ deuce spade - not infected.

SAVANACLAW.

☒ leona kingscholar - infected. stage 2.

☒ ruggie bucchi - not infected.

☒ jack howl - not infected.

OCTAVINELLE.

☒ azul ashengrotto - infected. stage 2, tipping over into stage 3.

☒ jade leech - not infected.

☒ floyd leech - not infected. currently at risk.

SCARABIA.

☒ kalim al-asim - not infected.

☒ jamil viper - infected. stage 1, tipping over into stage 2.

POMEFIORE.

☒ vil schoenheit - infected. stage 2.

☒ rook hunt - not infected.

☒ epel felmier - not infected.

IGNIHYDE.

☒ idia shroud - infected. stage 3.

☒ ortho shroud - not infected. currently at risk.

DIASOMNIA.

☒ malleus draconia - infected. stage 2, tipping over into stage 3.

☒ lilia vanrouge - not infected. currently at risk.

☒ silver - not infected.

☒ sebek zigvolt - not infected.

ROYAL SWORD.

☒ neige leblanche - not infected. currently at risk.

☒ dominic - not infected.

☒ grum - not infected.

☒ shelpie - not infected.

☒ hop - not infected.

☒ timmy - not infected.

☒ snick - not infected.

☒ toby - not infected.

☒ che'nya - not infected.

NOBLE BELL.

☒ rollo flamme - not infected.

[uhohbestie]

There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 42]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite their tensions. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 42 - The story of There Are Monsters Nearby concludes as Scar and Grian turn away from their past and look towards the future.

📝 Words: 11,088

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 42 on AO3

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“I want you to get Pop Tarts,” Grian says, his attention cast to the side while Scar works, looking towards the settlement in the distance. It’s a fair ways off, looking more like a grey-brown smudge from where they stand— a collection of RVs and camper vans clustered close together in the lee of a grassy ridge, the surrounding hills fringed in sparse junipers and hardy looking spruce saplings. There’s an open space between them, dotted with small lumps that Scar knows are grazing cattle and a clustered herd of goats.

The ruins of a city lay further off to the east, the handful of buildings not blackened from fire standing empty and abandoned. It’s from there that the zombies have been drifting out, a perpetual source of mindless, wandering horror. Though now, thanks to Scar’s aim and Grian’s tenacious knack for violence, the tide will hopefully have been stemmed to some degree.

“And whatever milk and cheese they’ve got. I saw all their animals, there’s no way they don’t have dairy to spare.”

It’s an endearing quirk that Grian has adopted ever since it became clear his diet was permanently changed. He likes to pick things for Scar to eat now, planning and suggesting his meals with whatever they scavenge, hunt, and barter. He’s never been a good cook, not even before the world fell apart, but it’s been sweet the way he's applied himself to improving, the two times he gave Scar food poisoning already becoming fond memories in their own way.

When the last zombie’s head has been separated from its body, Scar yanks a glove onto his hand and begins gathering them all, shoving each one into a canvas sack that he uses for the sole purpose of demonstrating their worth to any sceptical marks they come across. Once he’s done, he sets the bag down, putting out his arm and drawing Grian in close.

“Good work out there,” he compliments, pressing a kiss to the top of his partner’s head. Grian’s hair is clean and smells incredibly good—like sandalwood and something crisp—everything about him well-maintained, despite the state of the world around them. “You really treated those googlies like you had a score to settle.”

Without hesitation Grian leans into Scar’s touch, the easy return of his affection still a novelty, despite how many weeks Scar’s been allowed and able to enjoy it.

“You weren’t so bad yourself,” he offers, his words mumbled sweetly into the thick flannel of Scar’s shirt. “You’re getting to have a real hawk-eye with your aim, you know.”

“I love it when you say I’m a hot guy,” Scar preens, deliberately mishearing him. “Got a real nice ring to it.”

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Chapter 42! 380k words and ten months later, we are so happy to announce that we've come to the end of our story. While there's still so much more of TAMN left that we plan to write and share, this portion is over, and we couldn't be happier. Thank you so, so much for going on this journey with us, and we hope you enjoy the epilogue and ending of There Are Monsters Nearby 💜🧡

You can read the whole fic thus-far in the link below ↓↓↓

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)

[luxaofhesperides]

Post-Apocalypse + Soulmate AU ; requested by @burr-burr!

When Danny was a kid, he used to imagine how the world would end. It was never a zombie apocalypse or the fallout of a nuclear war, but the death of the sun, the expansion of their star in death that would swallow their planet whole, leaving no survivors.

It would have been nicer than the post-apocalyptic world he stands in now, knowing that it’s his fault the world has ended. 

He’s still struggling to wrap his head around it. To understand that all of this is his fault because he cheated on one test, desperate to pass after being unable to study for it with how exhausting and time consuming fighting ghosts is. Everywhere he looks, there’s more destruction. His own home is rubble, with only the partially untouched Ops Center remaining to let him know that this is where he once lived.

The rest of Amity Park is in worse shape. Buildings are hollowed out, the skeletons of their foundations visible, if they still remain standing. Most homes have been burned to the ground, leaving blackened corners of walls and nothing else. The roads are cracked and difficult to walk through, as if an earthquake tore through the city. Cars are scattered along the road, overturned or left abandoned, doors still open.

Danny has yet to find any bodies. He doesn’t know if that’s a good sign or not. 

He’s only caught a few glimpses of his future self, the cause of all this, and can’t bring himself to chase after that monster. He feels sick to his stomach knowing what he’ll become. 

That monster has to be stopped. The world has already ended, but that doesn’t mean his future self can be allowed to go on like this. If there are any survivors, they need protection. They need to know they’ll be safe to try to start rebuilding, and that can only happen if his future self is dead.

Danny knows what he has to do; he has a responsibility to protect what little remains of Amity Park, and to do that, he needs to kill himself. 

But his head it spinning from the horror of the situation and his throat is tightening up the way it only does when he’s about to have a panic attack.

He needs to stop his future self, but he also can’t stay another second in the ruins of Amity Park without destroying himself.

The guilt sits heavy in his chest as he goes ghost and takes to the sky, flying blindly towards the setting sun. Danny doesn’t know where he’s going, and he doesn’t really care. He just needs to get away for a bit, until he can calm down and put together a plan of attack so he can take out his future self in one go.

He just…

He never thought he’d be a monster. But here they are.

Flying away from Amity Park reveals the truly harrowing extent to which this world has suffered under his future self’s hands. There are no intact cities or towns. Roads are broken beyond repair, highways littered with empty cars, most bridges crumbling into the rivers below them, and everything is covered in overgrowth. All signs of humanity’s careful cultivation of the world has been erased. The earth takes back what humans took from it, covering everything in green. 

There is no movement. No people. Barely any birds flying beneath him. 

What remains of the world is silence.

Danny is terrified that there’s no one left. That his future self has so thoroughly destroyed the earth that no human survivors remain. 

That gives his guidance, some idea of where to go: a big city. Any big city, really. 

He flies lower, searching for some sort of landmark, or a sign that will tell him where he’s going. A rusted over green sign farther down the road tells him that he’s 50 miles from Gotham.

Oh, Danny thinks, Maybe Batman can help me.

If anyone could survive the end of the world, it would be the superheroes, right? If anyone stands a chance at defeating his future self, it would be a superhero. Superman might have been a better choice, but Metropolis is the opposite direction and multiple states away; Danny’s not sure he can make it before his future self catches wind of him and hunts him down. 

Danny has no doubt about what would happen to him if he’s caught; there’s a reason he hasn’t seen any ghosts around, after all.

Gotham is a city of secrets and rumors. What little he’s heard of it is baffling and, frankly, insane. There’s no city in the country like it and Gothamites prefer it that way, stubbornly loving the home that will kill them. For all the manmade horrors they survive on the daily, they would be more prepared for the end of the world than anyone else. 

Gotham may be another casualty of his future self’s destruction, but it also offers him hope.

Danny follows the broken road towards Gotham, pushing himself to fly faster than he ever has before. What should have been a half hour flight is completed in fifteen minutes. 

As soon as the towering buildings of Gotham, dark and semi destroyed, come into view, Danny drops from the sky and returns to human form. The strain from pushing himself has exhausted him and he feels it like an ache in his chest, his heart twisting and trying to burst from how hard it’s beating. 

He collapses to his hands and knees and gasps for breath on the outskirts of Gotham. 

It takes a good few minutes to calm down and breathe normally, then another to gather his strength to stand up and begin walking. 

The world is eerily quiet as he enters the city, feeling the chill fall upon him as he is consumed by the shadows of tall buildings. It’s much more intact that Amity Park, but there’s no denying the destruction that still surrounds him. Buildings are empty and worn down, decaying and slowly being consumed by new growth. Burnt out husks of overturned cars fill the street, leaving Danny to carefully pick his way around them, unable to walk in a straight line. 

He feels like the only person in the world. He feels like he’s being watched by a hungry eyes. 

Danny shivers and walks faster. 

The deeper he goes into the city, the more he starts to hope that he’s not alone in this world. There’s small signs of life: the smell of smoke, recently burned, certain streets cleaned up, makeshift walls constructed from rubble to block access to certain areas of each block.

He swears he can see people move above his head, but anytime he looks up, the windows of every building are empty. 

“Batman,” he whispers to himself, “I just need to find Batman.”

He turns a corner and continues walking. Apartment buildings give way to stores and businesses, all with their windows broken and nothing on the shelves. Then the buildings end abruptly and he’s left staring at an overgrown park that resembles a jungle more than it does a part of the city.

The scent of something sweet lingers in the air. Fruit, perhaps, or flowers. 

If he was left in the aftermath of an apocalypse, he would go to where he could find growing food. If there’s anyone left in Gotham, he’s willing to bet they’re in here, surviving off of what food can be grown in the confines of the park. 

Danny crosses the road and takes three steps onto the grass before someone appears beside him and points an electrified baton at him.

“Who are you?” they demand, eyes hidden behind a cracked helmet, but the bottom half of their face is visible, revealing scars crossing on dark skin. 

Danny takes a step back, eyeing the electric baton warily, and lifts his hands to show he means no harm. “Danny. I came from out of town. I was hoping to find people here.”

“You don’t look like you’ve been traveling.”

His clothes are clean and intact and he has none of the world-weariness that weighs down this Gothamite. Danny winces, and says, “My situation is kinda complicated. But I did just get here. I’m looking for help, actually. Do you know where I could find Batman?”

There’s a long moment of tense silence, then he hears a quiet sigh and the helmet comes off. An exhausted looking man looks at him with one blind eye, turned a milky white, and his voice is low and stricken as he says, “Batman’s dead. But maybe I can help you.”

“Batman’s dead?!” Danny repeats, shocked.

“Yeah. Sacrificed himself in one of the last times Phantom attacked Gotham. Got me and Nightwing out of that encounter alive. We’re really the only heroes left in Gotham, not that there’s much need anymore with everyone trying to survive.”

Phantom killed Batman. His future self killed Batman. 

Danny feels sick to his stomach.

“Oh,” he manages to say. 

The man’s expression softens. “Don’t worry, we’ll help you as much as we can. Why don’t you come on in? Ivy can get you some food if you’re hungry.”

Danny nods numbly as he follows the man deeper into the park. He walks with ease, taking paths that only become visible when he walks them, leaving Danny to follow close behind. It takes some time before he realizes that the plants are moving out of their way just enough that they don’t trip, and when he looks back, the path is covered again, hidden from sight.

He’s taken to the heart of the forest, where the trees shift to the side to reveal a large encampment of survivors all living together. Beds are strung up as hammocks between trees and rope ladders dangle from branches to help people move up and down. The ground is full of small fire pits, a few in use to make make food, and sections in the back full of vegetable and herb patches, separated by berry bushes. 

The people here all look tired and worn down, but they still smile and speak in light voices, adjusted to a new life after surviving so much horror and destruction. He even spots a few people using powers, or just looking different, including one large man who looks like a crocodile. 

“Pick up another stray?” a raspy voice asks, humor lighting the tone. They both turn to see a woman with long red hair and a green tint to her skin be lowered to the ground by a vine. She’s also heavily scarred and her right arm is completely gone, replaced by a wooden limb covered in moss that moves as if it’s always been a part of her body.

“Hey Ivy,” the man greets, “I don’t think this one is staying. He came to Gotham looking for Batman.”

The words make Ivy’s gaze sharpen, and Danny feels a trickle of dread go down his spine. She’s dangerous and standing before her feels as if he’s in the mouth of a hungry beast.

“Is that so,” she says, voice flat. “How interesting. I’ll let you two talk somewhere more private.” Her gaze flicks to the side, and when Danny turns to look, he can see some of the people in the encampment observing them warily, bodies tense and poised to either flee or attack.

Ivy turns and the plants part for her. Danny waits for the man to begin walking before he follows, trying not to feel trapped as the plants close the path behind him. She takes them to a small pond full of water lilies, gives the man a careful look, then leaves, swallowed up by the plants.

“Is everything okay?” Danny asks hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“Nah, you’re good,” the man replies, “It’s just that people don’t trust me much.”

“Why? You’ve been really nice.”

The man shrugs. “My soulmate is Phantom. He’s the one responsible for doing all this and killing almost everyone we love. I didn’t know until the first time I fought him, but they hate anything to do with Phantom, including me.”

Danny’s heart stutters in his chest. This is his soulmate.

Most people don’t subscribe to the belief that they’re meant to be with their soulmate. Meeting your soulmate is rare enough that most people don’t try, and plenty of people have spoken of how important it is to have a variety of relationships, to not close yourself off for the slightest chance of meeting your soulmate. 

Danny never looked for his; he didn’t want to subject them to his parents, and then he became a halfa and gave up on all dreams of having a normal life or any relationship with someone who didn’t know he was Phantom.

And now he’s here, in a ruined future, standing before his soulmate who understandably hates him for destroying the world. 

“You’re Phantom’s soulmate,” Danny breathes. His hands are shaking. He wants to cry.

The man sighs. “Yeah. I am. Not that it’s stopped him from trying to kill me. Don’t worry, kid, I’m not working with him. I swear.”

“He’s your soulmate and he hurt you.”

“He hurt everyone,” he says, then gestures at his blind eye. “This is barely a thing compared to what he did to other heroes.”

Danny can’t find the words to expression his horror at seeing the damage he did to his own soulmate. His future self is heartless and cruel and bloodthirsty. He has to be stopped.

He doesn’t want to kill his soulmate. 

“I came here for Batman,” Danny says, “Because I thought he could help me stop Phantom.”

“That’s rough, kid. Batman couldn’t beat Phantom. I don’t think anyone can. We’ve tried, but most heroes are dead and we can’t just go out there and risk the lives of everyone here. We gotta focus on survival, not revenge.”

“I have to stop Phantom.”

“Sorry kid, but that’s a terrible idea. Don’t go out there trying to be a hero. You can stay here, alright? Ivy will get you set up and the others will help you settle in.”

Danny takes a step back and shakes his head. “No. I have to stop him. It has to be me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m Phantom,” Danny whispers. 

The man immediately reaches for his electric batons again, taking a step back. “Not funny, kid,” he says with a tense voice. 

“I’m not joking. I am Phantom, just from the past. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You’re Phantom?” the man repeats. “You. You’re just a kid, and you’re going to destroy the world one day?”

“I don’t want this to happen! That’s why I need to go back, so I can stop the event that will set me down this path. And to go back, I need to defeat the Phantom that exists here.”

“He’ll kill you, kid.”

“That still solves the problem, doesn’t it? If I die here, then he’ll never live long enough to destroy the world. He’ll die too.”

The man stares at him with cold eyes, then turns away, dropping his hands away from the batons. “Don’t turn this into a suicide mission, kid,” he says. “The Phantom who’s here isn’t you. You don’t have to pay for his crimes. Just… stay here and I’ll go fight Phantom.”

“He already hurt you,” Danny says. 

���What’s a little more hurt? I can handle it.”

“No,” Danny says firmly. He shoves away the fear and hurt in his heart and finds his strength in determination. No more running away. No more hiding. 

The timeline should not exist. He can’t hesitate at the thought of erasing this version of his soulmate from existence; he’s tired and injured and an outcast in the only community that still exists in Gotham. He deserves better. Everyone here does.

And to give them a better life, Danny needs to stop this one from ever happening.

“This is my future. It’s my responsibility. I’ll stop it and make sure this never happens. And… I’m sorry for everything I did.”

“It’s not your fault, Danny. You’re not this version of Phantom.”

That’s not at all true, since Danny’s actions lead to the end of the world, but he’s not going to argue when he’s preparing to fight a stronger, more ruthless version of himself. He takes a deep breath, then goes ghost and floats into the air. 

“Before I go,” he begins, hesitantly, “What’s your name? Since you’re apparently my soulmate.”

The man smiles sadly and answers, “Duke. If we ever meet in your time, tell that version of me to look for my mom’s favorite book.”

It’s an odd request, but if it’s important enough to be asked for, then Danny will do it. “Your mom’s favorite book,” he repeats, “Got it.”

“Take care, Danny. Good luck out there.”

Danny nods and takes one last look at his soulmate, older and worn down, stubbornly getting through each long day, and swears to make things better.

Then he flies off, ready to fight his future self and make things right again. 

. . .

He thinks of his soulmate for years after he’s back in the present. The timeline where his future self exists is gone and the world is safe, but he still remembers the pain he caused Duke. 

When the time comes to apply to universities, Danny sets his sights on Gotham. His parents take him on a trip during spring break to tour the campus, and it’s after the tour, as he wanders around on his own, that he bumps into a student walking out of a building.

“Sorry,” they both say at the same time, reaching for each other to help each other keep their balance. 

As soon as their hands meet, it’s as if lightning runs through him. From the look on the other guy’s face, he felt it to. 

This is his soulmate.

“Duke,” Danny says, amazed and disbelieving all at once. And the request crosses his mind, something he wondered about almost every night since he returned to his time. “Look for your mom’s favorite book.”

“How—?”

“I met you in the future. You asked me to take back a message for the you that’s here. So: look for your mom’s favorite book. What does that mean, by the way? I never asked.”

Duke blinks, then slowly retracts his hands from Danny’s. “My mom’s favorite book was a hand bound journal from my dad. They were soulmates and he wrote about their first year in a relationship together. It’s full of pictures, and she loved it more than anything. That message is to remind me to have faith in soulmates, to believe that something good can happen to me.”

“Oh! That’s… wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into something so personal.”

Duke shrugs. “It’s fine. I needed the reminder. I would have already run away by now if you didn’t say that. You already know my name, but I think now’s a good time to introduce ourselves.”

“Right!” Danny says, flustered. He sticks his hand out, which Duke shakes with an amused smile. “I’m Danny. Fenton. I’m coming here next semester.”

“Duke Thomas. I’m a freshman here and I’d really love to get your number.”

He’s not hitting on Danny, not really, but it still makes him blush. The way Duke looks at him is full of light and laughter, so different from the exhausted and wary way he looked in the future now rewritten. 

This is what the future version of himself tried to kill. He doesn’t understand how anyone could ever hurt Duke when he’s so full of life. 

But he’s safe now. Everyone is; Danny changed the future and what lies ahead is wholly unknown to him.

The world is safe and full of promise. 

No matter what comes, Danny is sure he and Duke are going to be just fine.

[mikareo]

⌗ SNOWDROP ₊ ˖ ་. nagi seishiro x fem reader (5.4k)

⊹ ⠀⠀ it's the end of the world and he's possibly the most unprepared person alive…perhaps he can rely on the pretty girl with perfect aim who just so happened to save his life at the very last second. he’s never been in love but maybe this love could last…so long as the both of you stay alive.

contains; resident evil inspired, badass agent!reader, helpless civilian!nagi, zombie apocalypse, guns, knives, blood, gore, swearing, angst, fluffy flirting, love at first sight, major character death, reo cameo!!!!, cannibalism (zombies) author's note; this fic destroyed my sanity, but i hope u like it! there are parts that are so unserious asjkl just trust me that it's a good read and pt2 is gonna be fucking crazy

⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀ videogame au milestone collab masterlist !

This can’t be happening. There’s no way this is actually fucking happening right now. 

He’s sprinting at full speed, his laces are barely tied, and the smoke in the air is surely clogging his lungs into a blackened pulp of nothingness. To be quite frank, Nagi would rather have those poisoned lungs than discover whatever the hell happened to his neighbors down the hall…because damn they look like they’re in some rough shape. With their sunken eyes, flaking skin, and very obvious urge to suddenly turn to cannibalism, that’s not really his vibe…but that’s a falling telephone pole! Holy shit that’s a falling telephone pole coming straight his way in 3…2…1. JUMP!

Whew, that was a close one. Good thing he’s tall!

The shift in humanity didn’t exactly happen overnight. It was actually just twenty minutes ago when his peace was so rudely interrupted. There he was, snuggled up in his gaming chair with a fresh bag of Cool Ranch Doritos opened and ready to meet his belly, when he finally beat the last level of his new favorite game; only to discover that those screams of terror and fear…yea those weren’t coming from his PC and his living room window is now a pile of ash. Nagi doesn’t think he’s ever seen so much red and yellow in his life, all of it becoming one big blur of flames that he somehow jumped through and landed on the street below— thankfully he lives on the ground floor, otherwise his body would join his couch in a pile of broken limbs. Damn, this is all such a hassle.

No one would be able to guess what it was that caused this chaos…okay, actually it’s not too out of this world; just a commercial jet falling from the sky with a monstrous thing (??) crawling out of the window onto the streets of Tokyo, whilst an oddly green gas dilutes the air.

Yeah, not too crazy— but just crazy enough to make even Nagi Seishiro, laziest man on earth, leave the comfort of his homely apartment to find his neighborhood in complete and utter chaos. He even saw his delivery man devouring the convenience store owner that always gives him an extra bonus off his nightly midnight snack. Man, he loved that guy. That’s a sight that’ll make him shudder for years to come; assuming he can stay alive for the next however many hours and days this newfound apocalypse is going to take.

Nagi thinks it’s been nearly an hour since he started running and he didn’t even know he had this much stamina in him. Maybe he’s secretly a superhuman or another one of the monsters the city has been consumed by— or perhaps his adrenaline rush is nearly infinite since he’s never utilized it in his entire life. He’s not sure of the logistics. He failed high school biology…and chemistry…and physics. There’s a reason why he turned to gaming and shied away from college. This thrill and rush isn’t meant for him. He’s a couch potato that wants to do nothing but rot and enjoy the satisfying ding Twitch gives him whenever he receives a new sub. His generation needs instant gratification…and right now? Well, he’s in desperate need of some water. 

Hesitantly, Nagi rounds into the glass doors of the nearest and safest looking building he happens to see— which is luckily a convenience store similar to the one near his apartment. He’s more than surprised when the automatic doors open in a pinch and he’s able to enter with no difficulty. The store is somehow in little disarray, with its grocery items on the shelves in their rightful spots and few sparse bags of chips laying on the tile floor. However, what is in disarray is the pharmacy section. There are drugstore pills scattered everywhere. He can’t even tell what kind of medications were being scavenged in a clear panic for medical amenities, and highly doubts that whoever was searching for supplies was able to get any with the state the back of the store is in. The font on the labels is so small that Nagi, the man who stares at a screen all day, can’t decipher what they say; and he’s assuming that whoever was in here is long dead and gone. But then again…

…he’s never been the kind of guy who’s always right.

“I come in peace!” His voice is two octaves higher than it normally is. If this were a choir audition, he’d absolutely ace it. “I swear I just came for some water! Please don’t kill me, zombie, please!”

Both of his eyes are shut whilst he awaits his inevitable demise, assuming that the unknown presence in the room likely has an appetite for human organs. There were so many things he wanted to do with his life…like ride a hot air balloon? Actually, that would be really hot if he were that close to the sun. Surf in the Caribbean? Ew, he could get bit by a crab. Get a girlfriend? He can’t complain about that one, that would be very very nice. 

Oh no, he’s already getting eaten…he can practically hear her imaginary laughter already.

“Really? Those are your last words?”

Zombies can talk?

Nagi fearfully inches one eye open to see the most gorgeous person he thinks he’s seen in his entire life. Sure, you look a little disheveled— with your soaked hair and dirt-crusted skin— but to him, you look like something out of his imagination. The female protagonist that he could only dream about campaigning with in a first-person-shooter game, and would later search for a worthy poster to stick on his wall. If love at first sight is real, then this is definitely it. The only issue? Your barrel is pointing straight at his face.

“You’re going to shoot me?” He exclaims, scrambling to back up but ultimately tripping on his own laces and landing on his ass. “Ah shit, that hurts.”

Elegantly, you rush to his side. “You have injuries?” With eyes scanning over every inch of his body, there’s genuine concern dripping from your tongue like honey. Your voice is like a melody, oh man. Nagi thinks he’s a goner— not because he could be eaten by zombies, but because he feels like he’d jump in front of a moving bus to protect you. Pfft, and some protection he’s doing, embarrassing himself like this…

“Nope, nothing’s hurt…” he mumbles, sitting up with an attempted nonchalant look on his face. “...only my ego.”

A small smile reveals itself before him and your eyes crinkle as you let out a little laugh, and instantly he’s almost more obsessed with you. It’s as if you’re some higher being that he was blessed to see on his final day on earth, with golden rays radiating from your skin and big irises that he could drown in. Perhaps if it weren’t the end of the world, the two of you could’ve walked to this store together— holding hands and speaking softly about your shared interests and passions— and he could make you laugh a million times and more…now that he’s really thinking about it, you’re the first girl he’s made laugh probably ever and he really wishes there wasn’t a menacing zombie apocalypse getting in the way of his beautiful fantasy. 

“I’m assuming you’re alone?” You stand up, looking down at him. 

Alone as in single or…

“You don’t have any family that you escaped with?”

…okay not alone as in single. Got it.

“It’s just me,” Nagi stands to his feet and is loving your shocked reaction to his towering height. “My family’s overseas right now, so I think they’re alright. I mean, I hope they’re alright. I don’t have any service to reach them, right now. My phone is down.”

You nod, reaching in your bag for something he can’t quite see. What he can see, though, is the massive shotgun strapped to your back and three large cartridges hanging from your belt— somehow you’re able to carry all that and four grenades, two handguns, and six rolls of bandages in that pack of yours, which you lay out for him so lovingly on the floor. 

“Take what you need.” Oh hell, what has he gotten himself into?

As he backs up cautiously, realization dawns upon your face. “You’ve never done this before have you?” 

“Is living through a zombie apocalypse a common experience?” His mouth is agape. “Yeah, sorry…can’t say this isn’t the first time for me.”

A sigh slips from your lips and you gather your things, packing everything into your bag except for a standard handgun. Nagi can feel his heartbeat picking up as you take three steps closer to him. One. Two. Three. He wishes you’d chosen to take a fourth— that way you’d be nose to nose, he’d get to see your beauty up close, and then memorize the curves and features of your face— which he’d surely never forget as he’d think about them morning, night, and day. He’d love to fantasize about you for hours but you have other plans, dropping said standard handgun into his palms. 

“Just aim for the head, okay?” 

Um. No. Not okay. 

“I don’t really shoot real guns…” he rambles, attempting to get rid of the deadly weapon you’ve so casually given him. “I’m more of a lover, y’know? Talk things out instead of shooting things in between their eyes? I like digital zombies! Yeah, those guys are chill…love ‘em so much…please take this away from me.”

You shake your head, already on your way out of the door. “Nope, you’re coming with me.”

“Why?” If this were a video game, there’d be a massive exclamation point flashing above his head, along with a grave that he could crawl into instead of joining you on this suicide mission. Being six feet under sounds pretty nice right about now…but he’s sure that the look you’re giving him is more deadly than any threat outside. “I don’t think I’m going to be much help to you.”

“Nagi, is it?” You clarify, to which he nods. “There are only two choices right now, and I know we just met but I’d rather you live than die. You’re tall. Your height is going to give you a range advantage when we’re out there, and I can already tell that you have great spatial awareness…not many people would’ve noticed me in the shadows. You know this area far better than I do, and sure, you’ve never held a gun before, but you’ve got to fight to live.”

As your voice continues in a soft-spoken tone, he’s mesmerized. “I want you to live, and I’m going to make sure you do.”

He can feel himself nodding along to your words— his heart getting lighter by the second, perhaps out of adrenaline but he’s going to believe it’s love. He needs something to look forward to when this is all over, if this is ever over, and that something is the image of you and him on a date. With you looking stunning in your favorite outfit and him hopefully looking better than he does right now…clear skies with the cicadas shushing themselves so he doesn’t miss a single thing you say…enough money in his bank account to cover anything and everything you wish for…and the biggest bouquet of your favorite flowers that he can find. What are your favorite flowers?

“Can I ask you something before I say yes?” Nagi’s voice is sweet, seemingly comforting you as your shoulders drop from their automated offensive stance. You look a little curious, likely assuming that he’s going to ask you some tips on how to shoot a gun— which he probably should if he’s being honest with himself, but that’s an issue that isn’t as important as his current curiosity. “Do you have a favorite flower?” 

With teeth shining at him, he’s blinded by the overwhelming beauty you send his way and for the second time, he makes you laugh. 

“My favorite flower? You’re so strange.” Overcome with a fit of giggles, he thinks that this is your first time laughing at something a man said as well. “Why do you need to know that? Are you asking me out or something?”

“I am.” He states bluntly and your cheeks flush red. 

There’s a minute of silence between the two of you and each second is more excruciating than the last. With a heavy clock ticking in his ear, telling him that he’s made a fool of himself as the hand inches more and more to the left; he’s counting down his probable rejection as he’s just shot his shot in the middle of the end of the world. What a stupid decision. He knows his timing could be better— could be a lot better actually— and there’s a part of him that regrets even attempting…but none of that matters, because you’re smiling.

Maybe he makes you just as nervous as you make him…

“Okay Nagi,” you grin and adjust the shotgun strap across your chest. “If we both survive this, I promise I’ll go out with you…but I have some high expectations. I want the most expensive flower arrangement money can buy.” 

“And what kind of flowers are you wishing for, gorgeous?” His voice is a sexy whisper, and Nagi didn’t even know he could be so seductive.

You jokingly roll your eyes at the pet name and toss him one of your inactive grenades, which he catches with ease, urging him to follow you into the chaos— but not before you give him the answer he so desperately desires.

“Snowdrops.”

There are two things that Nagi has realized in the past thirty minutes. 

1.) He’s a lot more athletic than he thought he was. 

Running for a half an hour straight is something that he never imagined himself doing— especially considering that he’s never stepped one foot into a gym in his entire life. What he originally thought to be clumsiness, turns out to be raw strength untouched. You were right to assume that his lengthy limbs would do him some justice in the fight for his life, and he’s thankful for his towering height as he’s blocked falling debris from smacking you atop the head nearly five times now; though, he did miss a flying sneaker that happened to nail you straight in the nose. He’s trying his best, give him a break. 

2.) You might be a figment of his imagination. 

Sure, this idea is likely false as he definitely felt your weight when you were sent flying from a stray hand grenade and landed on top of him, but you just seem so perfect. Getting to know you has been a dream come to life— though making conversation while running for his life isn’t the easiest feat, he’s managing. Some of the things you’ve told him do seem to be made up, though. For instance, you were the culprit behind the plane crash and while he’d love to picture a sunsetting sky with the two of you floating in the breeze, you’re not going to be piloting that jet. However, he has to give you a break because he’s never flown anything other than pixelated aircrafts, especially aircrafts that contain a deadly monster oozing toxic gas that turns people into zombies. Yeah, he couldn’t quite believe that either.

“On your left!” The sound of your voice snaps him back into focus and he realizes there are four zombified citizens barreling your way. “I could use some help here!”

You definitely don’t need his help. For God’s sake you have a shotgun the size of your leg that’s already mowed down three of them and Nagi’s just barely getting used to the sound of the bang. So far he’s pretty much been useless if not for letting you know what’s coming up in the distance, and also being the absolute last resort solution— which is rare, but oh shit it’s happening right now! You’re out of shells! How exactly does he fire this thing again?

Shakily, he attempts to point his handgun in the direction of the lone zombie bounding towards you. “Deep breaths, Nagi! Focus and aim!” Your words of encouragement are appreciated, but ultimately useless as he desperately starts stray shooting. 

“Fucking aim!” You’re losing your patience for him so fast, to which he tries his best to calm down and breathe.

In and out.

His heart rate begins to slow.

Breathe and concentrate. 

His eyes become unclouded by his anxiety, and his vision clears. 

Lock on.

He has a mark on the target. 

With his pistol’s aim assist shining against the zombie’s forehead, he confidently fires a single bullet. It soars through the air, squealing in its flight, and he lets out a sigh of relief…a sigh that he exhaled far too early.

Aw shit, he missed. 

You grunt, bracing yourself against his bullet that ricochets off of the nearby telephone pole and grazes your right arm. He has a clear view of the scarlet blood dripping down your elbow and onto the pavement, and his heart feels heavy. He’s so fucking useless that he’s injuring you. Nagi doesn’t think it’s even possible to be worse at flirting than him; he can’t imagine that there are many guys who are accidentally shooting the girl they like, yet here he is. 

Thankfully, you being the badass agent you are, you’ve managed to reload your eleven shells of ammo in the time it took for him to fire one bullet— and you easily dissolve the zombie to bits and pieces. 

“Your aim can use a little work.” You snort, brushing your fingers against the small wound.

He rips the sleeve of his t-shirt off and attempts to wrap it around your arm. This is what you’re supposed to do, right? The only training he’s had in the medical field is from that one surgeon simulator game he played in middle school, and to be completely honest, it was a pretty good game! However, he’s definitely doing something wrong because you place your hand over his and show him how to properly treat an open wound. Normally, Nagi would be embarrassed that he’s failing so miserably right now— but honestly, the only thing on his mind is how this is the first time you’ve held his hand. He can’t tell if there are butterflies in his stomach or if the smell of blood is triggering vomit. Hopefully the former.

It’s no surprise that your perceptive self notices his focus on your intertwined hands, to which you take the lead and insist on pushing forward. “As romantic as this is, we should find some shelter before we get eaten in the midst of making out.” 

Oh?

“You want to make out with me?” 

Oof that slap hurt. His priorities clearly don’t align with yours.

“Okay, okay.” Nagi holds his hands up in surrender before you can smack his chest for a second time, and he’s finally able to notice your surroundings. Since when was the Mikage Buildingright behind you? Hm…the imminent fear of death must have distracted him. “My best friend’s family owns this tower here. I promise it’s safe.”

Your gaze narrows at the wall of glass windows that are seemingly spotless. There isn’t a single crack, faulty line, or zombie-sized hole that’s visible to the naked eye and he feels a little swell of pride for Reo’s family. Yeah, that’s right! My best friend’s parent’s architects are great at making buildings! It finally seems like he’s had his first good idea of the night, and Nagi couldn’t be more proud. Progress is progress (even if he shot you in the process)! 

“It looks good.” You nod in approval and begin cautiously making your way towards the doors.

While following closely behind, he watches your back and ensures that there’s no one on your trail; which isn’t difficult in the slightest. Most of the civilians have died by now and you’ve already cleared every undead in the area…without his help. He doesn’t know how he managed to be so lucky that he ended up with you, but he’s grateful for every second— and now that you’re finally in his familiar territory, he can finally show you what he’s worth. 

“There’s an elevator up these steps.” Nagi leads you up the grand staircase, remembering how he lazily trotted down it yesterday after Reo tried, once again, to convince him to join his football club. “I think it’ll work, I know they have emergency systems and everything.”

“I don’t know, Nagi…” your voice trails off, something amiss about it. “I just have a weird feeling about this place.”

“I promise Reo’s family’s going to take care of us, they’re the best.” He deflects your concerns, trusting that his friend will pull through and have some crazy solution to save the world. There’s never been a time where he couldn't count on Reo and as soon as you reach the top of these steps, you’ll agree. The text he sent out asking for help is almost delivered, just a few more seconds and that blue line will slide all the way to the right and Reo will be right down the elevator as soon as possible. 3…2…1…sent! There! You’ll both be saved!

But if Reo’s on the top floor in his room…why did his ringtone ding just meters away?

There’s a corpse laying in front of the elevator doors, mangled and bruised. How did Nagi not notice it before? Was he too distracted thinking of his closest and only friend he’s ever had? No way. The security team must have destroyed all of the zombies in the building already, he’s sure Reo and the others are fine— but why does that body look so familiar?

No.

It can’t be him. 

Three steps away. 

There’s got to be some kind of mistake here. A prank right?

Two steps away. 

He can’t be dead. His best friend can’t be dead!

One. 

“No…” With his voice trembling, he stands over his best friend’s body. Reo’s violet hair is drenched in blood, seemingly resembling the color of a plum rather than the typical lavender hue. If it were a normal day, Nagi would laugh at the awful color— telling his partner in crime that the shade didn’t suit him in the slightest and Reo would laugh in annoyance, aiming a ball straight for the taller boy’s head…but this isn’t a normal day. This is the end of the world; and that beautiful lavender flower that Nagi associated with his teammate is wilting. It’s dying. It’s dead along with the heartbeat within it. Reo is dead. 

“Nagi. I need you to step back slowly.” He spins to see you with your barrel aimed at Reo’s corpse, but he can’t seem to move. It’s almost as if he’s been stunned, frozen in place with frostbite cementing his legs to the granite floors, and mouth encased in ice. He’s so overwhelmed that he can’t even open his mouth to give you a warning that there’s something moving behind you. Why can’t he speak? He needs to tell you! However, right when his teeth quiet their jitter, you’re tackled to the ground with a loud pummel. 

Immediately, gunshots ring out in the grand hall. You’re firing in every direction in an attempt to blast off your opponent, but this zombie is particularly agile and you don’t have much room to move with your large shotgun…looking back in retrospect, giving Nagi your only handgun wasn’t the greatest idea.

“C’mon!” Repeatedly, you call out to him, but he remains paralyzed in fear. “Stop being useless!”

He watches as you struggle to wrestle off the infected woman, grunting and groaning with every punch you deal to its face. The skin on her cheeks is almost a greyish shade, discolored and decaying with a potent smell that burns his nostrils. It’s hard to tell who’s who under the blanket of shadows she’s trapped you under, but occasionally he catches a glimpse of golden eyes that tell him the zombie is still alive. 

Somehow, with your almost supernatural raw strength, you’re able to hook your thighs around the zombie’s neck— pinning it down to the pearly floors and trapping it beneath your weight. It claws and cries out, desperately trying to escape your grasp, and Nagi almost feels bad for it. Just a few hours ago, this woman had a life. A real life that she likely looked forward to living every day; and now she’s nothing but a brainless carnivore with cannibalistic intentions. She could’ve been a mother. There could be a little boy out there missing her and waiting for her to come home, tell him that he’s safe, and that everything is going to be alright. When was the last time Nagi talked to his own mother? Why does he deserve to live and this woman doesn’t? Why is he so special that he was saved, while the rest of Tokyo was left to rot? 

It isn’t fair. 

None of it is fair.

He doesn’t deserve to live. He doesn’t deserve to be here. 

He’s taken his life for granted from the moment he learned to walk. Why should you be wasting your time trying to get him to safety when he’s nothing more than absolutely useless? He needs to help.

He needs to be brave…

…but he misses his chance once more. 

Letting out a wailing scream, you muster up enough energy to crush the woman’s head between your thighs, and Nagi is splattered with blood and guts. He doesn’t know how you’re so strong— it’s almost eerie in a way— but he’s more concerned with the state of your well-being. The look of exhaustion in your eyes acts as a glaring sun against his icy posture, and his feet are thawed from the floor, rushing towards you in mere seconds. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he kneels on the ground before you and cups your face closely, “Hey— hey, don’t close your eyes. I’m right here. Please stay awake.” Nagi doesn’t think his voice has ever been so gentle nor has he ever felt this kind of worry for a girl before. Sure, he hasn’t known you for long, but he knows he can’t go on without you. You’re a team and a team sticks together. You can’t die right here! He’s not going to allow that!— but before he can lift you up like the knight in shining armour he wishes he could be, there’s a faint rustling behind him…a familiar rustling. Nagi knows that sound. He knows those movements. He’s heard them a million times and he’d be able to recognize them even in the midst of Shibuya Crossing in the busy hours. 

Where did Reo’s body go?

Perhaps it dissolved or maybe it was kicked aside in the midst of your fight. 

That has to be it, right? Where else could he be?

Nagi’s confusion is understandable. He’s thinking rationally given the circumstances and his heartbeat is somewhat steady. The mass of his body hovers over yours in a protective stance, like a dragon guarding a princess, and for once he appears to be confident. However, that confidence has been set aflame. He can feel his blood racing, burning through his veins in fear and distress, and he wishes he could simply rip his vitals from his skin to destroy the wretched emotions. The sight before him is something out of a horror movie…a horror movie where Nagi is the main character. 

“Oh fuck.” 

Reo leaps out of the shadows before Nagi can even react. 

There’s a blur of hands and feet, hitting and kicking at each other, and the snow haired boy never knew he was this agile. Reo is clearly doing his best to hit Nagi’s vital arteries; to which he’s blocking each attack with his forearms. This is chaos. He doesn't even have a second to think for himself and consider the possibility of blasting Reo’s head off with his handgun. He can’t do that…this is his best friend! 

As Nagi’s leg lines up to knock him off his feet, Reo lunges down and grabs a hold of it. In a panic, he attempts to shake his friend off— wiggling his leg up and down whilst reaching for his combat knife in his back pocket— and slices the skin in between Reo’s forearm and bicep…which is ultimately ineffective. Oh, shit he just got angrier! Growling, zombie-fied Reo clasps his hands around Nagi’s waist, lifting him off the ground with ease and throwing him into the elevator doors. The sound of his body slamming against the metal slab rings out, echoing in the grand foyer and deafening Nagi’s left ear. His breathing is heavy and he feels like he can’t get a single ounce of air in his lungs. Everything seems to be blurry, foggy with mist covering his irises as he attempts to see what’s right in front of him. 

A carnivorous Reo…

…and an unconscious you.

It’s clear to him what’s going on. There are two outcomes to this horrific situation and whatever decision Nagi makes is going to impact the rest of his life. 

1.) Let you go and join the afterlife with his best friend. 

2.) Save you and never see his best friend again. 

His heart is at war within himself. One side fighting for Reo, the boy he’s known for so long. The boy he’s laughed and cried with. The boy who knows everything about him. The boy who believed in him when no one else did…until you came along. 

Just the thought of seeing your lifeless eyes, bloodied body, and severed limbs flips a switch inside him— and Nagi finally comes to realize what’s happening. This isn’t Reo. This shell of a man with a monstrous hunger isn’t his best friend. Reo is a ghost now. He doesn’t exist anymore and now his body is being possessed by the undead, or whatever zombies are. He can miss his friend all he wants, but that doesn’t change the fact that the thing creeping towards you is nothing but a stranger who knows all of Nagi’s secrets. 

It’s time for him to fight to live. 

As he swiftly stands and tackles Reo to the floor, a wave of memories flash before Nagi’s eyes. 

The moment he first heard Reo’s voice. It was light and friendly. He had used a tone that Nagi hadn’t ever heard before, and although he had no interest in playing soccer, he still wanted to impress the popular boy— not because he wanted a higher status or a girlfriend, but because he knew this stranger needed a friend…and he really needed a friend, too. 

His palms grip Reo’s throat, ripping him off of your body.

The first time Reo laughed at something he said. It wasn’t intended to be funny, but the plum-haired boy couldn’t help but burst into a fit of giggles and Nagi found himself laughing as well. Sitting in the school courtyard, side-by-side with crumbling onigiri falling from their mouths, there’s no doubt that they looked like two elementary schoolers finding humor in something obscurely immature— but despite that, it’s one of his fondest memories. 

Reo struggles against Nagi’s weight, pinned to the floor with nowhere to run.

When he’d first shown him his concerningly large collection of video games, Reo hadn’t batted an eye. In fact, the very next day, Nagi received a friend request from him. Which seemed like a small act at the time, until he found out that Reo had gone to the tech store and purchased an entire PC set up just so he could be the Player 2 to Nagi’s Player 1. They were partners in both the real and virtual world— an unstoppable pair that won more tournaments as time went on— and Nagi will never clean out his xbox inventory filled with their trophies. 

His finger grazes the trigger.

This is it. 

No more memories.

It’s time to say goodbye.

In movies, when the protagonist has to kill their loved one, a single tear rolls down their cheek. 

For Nagi, his face drowns in his cries. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He’s gone.

“I love you.”

Reo’s body dissolves into ash…

…then dust…

…then nothing. 

“I’m so sorry.”

PART TWO COMING IN THE NEAR FUTURE (i’m a slow writer pls forgive me)

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⊹₊｡ reblogs are greatly appreciated! ˚₊⊹

[dotts-inkings]

Stitches don't heal AU overview - minus final arc ideas @maskedbutsilly :3

Before

So it starts like a decade post-apocalypse. Lorelai is the head of a settlement of people (definitely not lmanburg mhm mhm) and doing pretty well at it actually. People are happy. Connor at this time is travelling with Schlatt I mean Jay, and they two are in the business of inflitrating and taking down settlements n ramshackle cities for hire and for fun. They go in build trust then tear the settlement down for profit.

So Connor and Jay find themselves outside Lor's place, as Jay has history with Lor and wants him dead. This spawns a split in the settlement's loyalties, as the J + C team are very charismatic n lay down lies about Lor's ability to lead, about his past that very few know, basically just fucking Lor over at every turn from the outside (as Lor banned them from being able to come in). 

Lor around this time gets bit by a zombie and, already being accused of being an all-around poor individual, gets really paranoid that his people will turn on him. He hides the bite and gets deathly ill over the course of a few weeks, all the while battling J+C, inside dissent, and his own self-worth issues (as he can't help but listen when everyone around him is questioning his worth). Towards the end, when he thinks he's about to turn, he runs into the wilderness taking only a token to remember his son by and a cloak to die in.

Connor and Jay find their way in when Lor runs, and that night, torch the whole place. 

Survival

Lor survives the bite. In the weeks after he runs, he feels the worst hes ever felt-- sick to the point where he can't walk, colder than anything even in june, and starved. He doesn't know why he didn't turn completely, but he blames it on his dad, that good-for-nothing jerk. 

But Lor doesn't come out the other end unchanged. He's nearly dead- blood flow reduced to a bare minimum, eye corneas blackened (hides with tinted glasses), temperature regulation all wack (clothing clothing clothing for days), wounds dont heal (stitches don't heal they only bind meat together), and of course his body also rejects all food except human flesh. 

He wanders for a long, long while before he meets anyone that won't kill him within the first day of knowing him.

Lor and Connor (unknowing of their history together) meet face to face for the first time in a run-down barn on the edge of some surprisingly well-maintained farmland. Connor and Jay's whole deal had gone south very quickly when Connor started getting ambitions of his own, wanting more than to be some asshole's crony and trophy husband. Connor escaped Jay and hopped from city to city, trying to make his way, until he made some of the wrong enemies and was nearly killed. He avoided people for the most part after that, only coming into contact to get goods to stay alive.

They meet when Lor stumbles upon Connor's temporary resting spot- Connor startling into waking and reflexively driving a blade across Lor's chest. This ends up with the two of them travelling together, Connor feeling guilty and Lor enchanted by Connor's failgirl vibe. Lor hides his weird zombie-ness from Connor. Connor, after learning Lor's name, hides his complicity in the destruction of Lor's home.

They wander together for a good while. Theyre like the worst little dudes youve ever seen- they can't stop aggravating each other, but are drawn to each other because the other is the only one who's been able to tolerate and even appreciate the other for their flaws. 

Lor after all this time feels apathetic about most things, callous towards the bad, and cracking jokes at the good. Connor on the other hand finds himself caring too much- he finds a stance to argue on just about any topic, and has killed when his conversation partner pisses him off too much. Lor feels deeply about the past he shares freely with Connor, how he misses his son, his friends. Connor would prefer to forget it all and bury it before his only friend finds out his secret. They pick at each other.

At some point down the line, they get into a relationship. And shortly after, Lor finally breaks the whole zombie thing to Connor-- its kind of hard not to notice when youre kissing a guy with zombie-cold lips, and Lor knows enough about normal people behavior to know thats kind of a stupid thing to hide from your partner. Connor reacts poorly, of course, but better than Lor thought. Connor doesn't attack him or run. Instead he blows up- Lor eats people??? Lor is a zombie, just like the shambling wrecks all around them, and he expects Connor to believe that Lor's not planning to kill him? Or use him to kill others? Has Lor been sneaking away to eat human the whole time theyve known each other (yeah)? They get closer together, but Lor revealed too much and Connor can't deal with the knowledge.

Death(?)

Its a tense few days later when Lor and Connor are passing through a dead city. Its overrun by hordes of zombies, who pay no mind to Lor, but seem all too happy to hunt Connor down. Theyre just doing a supply run, but it gets bad fast, and theyre overcome. They break into a locked building, shattering a window (and Connor slicing his leg open on the glass). The position isn't tenable. They know they have to find a way through the horde somehow but Connor, limping and smelling of blood, can't think of any way out. He knows Lor will make it out safely, but there's no way for Connor to survive here. Lor has an idea. 

They'd split the hordes attention. If one runs first, most of the horde would focus on that one, giving the other time to escape. The only problem is that zombies aren't attracted to Lor, he smells like death. Lor looks down at Connor's bandaged leg wound and warns that what he's about to do will probably freak Connor out, but its the only thing he can think of. He replaces Connor's makeshift bandage with his cloak, and wraps the cloth over his shoulders. 

Smelling of blood, Lor runs out the window and takes most of the horde with him. Connor follows soon after, but is caught by surprise when a small group of zombies grabs at him just outside. Slowed and weakened, he manages to fight them off, but at a cost. As he limps out of the suddenly cleared city, he finds his arm aches something fierce. Connor already knows what he'll find if he looks down at it. 

Looking back into the city from a hill on the outskirts, he sees a large shuffle of motion at its center, and wonders if Lor is still caught in the horde, if he escaped or was torn to pieces. Alone on the hill, Connor hopes Lor escaped.

[strangerquinns]

Deadly Reunion| Chapter 20

Eddie Munson x female!reader // a stranger things apocalypse au

summary: You and Eddie have been best friends since childhood. But when the outbreak happened five years ago, you were torn from one another in the chaos. but now you’re left alone, after your group was killed by another radical crew, leaving you to seek out what was once home. // zombie apocalypse Hawkins set in 1993

warnings: angst + adult themes w/ descriptions of violence, blood, torture + other zombie apocalypse related issues (no use of y/n)

word count: 2.5k+

⪻ previous hapter | next chapter ⪼ | stranger things masterlist | chapter one

You let out a soft hiss as you felt the pop of the shotgun in your hands rock back into your body. But you ignored it as you reloaded and sent another one causing the bullet to rip through the body of a Flayed. With each echo of the shot, it seems that more and more seemed to be coming out of the tree line.

You went with the group to help clear out the pack that had made its way to downtown Hawkins. As the weather got colder there seemed to be more and more Flayed showing up around the Lab. There was a theory that the Flayed preferred the cold. The chill in the air drops each day and only attracts them to the area more and more.

The gurgled moan came from your left and turned in time as a Flayed moved quickly toward you. You watched as its head was knocked back, the shotgun shell splitting through the blackened and softened skull, causing it to exit violently at the back of its head. Your heart was beating rapidly against your chest as you moved from building to building, searching around, and making sure the other’s with you were covered. You rose and took aim as you watched another Flayed stagger rapidly, a limp in its walk, sending off another shot – missing. You cursed lowly and reloaded again before taking another shot, hitting right in the shoulder, and sending it down to the cracked concrete.

You strapped your shotgun across your back and grabbed your knife from your sheath. The heavy metal of the blade in your hand as you walked up to it. You no longer saw Flayed as people, you couldn’t. The disease that ran through their body didn’t allow it. Blackened veins spread beneath the thin, pale skin giving the walking corpse a more gray tone. Their eyes clouded over and vacant as they stared back at you. Some Flayed had missing skin from their forms, the body slowly decomposing the moment the disease entered your body. With your knife in your shaking hands, you knelt down and drove the blade into the skull, causing the animated corpse to stop moving.

There was an eerie silence that fell over the vacant downtown of your hometown as you looked around and saw the pack had been dealt with. You reached down and used the shirt the Flayed was using to wipe the end of the blade, before setting it back into your sheath. You looked over and saw Jonathan move from an alleyway, swiping a hand across his sweaty face, with Lucas following behind him. Hopper thought it would be a good idea for the volunteers and those assigned to help with his plan to come out and clear out the town as training.

You saw the logic behind it, but you were afraid of losing someone to a Flay since they had never dealt with one before.

“Everyone okay?” Jonathan called out, everyone else stepping down from their posts.

“I think so,” You answered with a slight pant to your voice. You looked around and saw a few others walking toward you. “All cleared out, should move quickly before another wave comes.”

Jonathan nodded, turning his gaze to Argyle, Lucas, and a few others. “Gather the bodies, place them in the middle for burning.”

“We burn them?” a girl with short, red curly hair and a freckled face spoke. You’d learned earlier that her name was Vicky.

“Of course. Don’t want the bodies left the rot.” Argyle spoke.

“Also, the burned bodies give the illusion that a group was here but moved on. Don’t want to give any indication of the camp.” You explained.

“Already have one group on our asses, the last thing we need is another,” Argyle spoke again before splitting off with Lucas and the others start to gather the bodies.

A deep sigh passed through your chapped lips as you tried to calm down your heart rate. Your adrenaline was pumping through you nearly to the point of making you nauseous. Reaching into the back pocket of your pants, you reached for the spare bandana that you’d grabbed from Eddie’s and tied it around your nose and mouth. With the others, you began to grab the bodies of the Flayed, before dropping them into a haphazard pile in the middle of the main street.

Over time you’d all gotten them cleaned up before Jonathan lit a match and tossed it onto the file. It didn’t take long for the entire pack to be engulfed in flames causing a dark blackened smoke to start to stretch up toward the sky.

“Let’s get back to camp, the sun is going down soon, and Hopper is going to want a report,” Jonathan spoke, everyone gathering their things, before starting the walk back toward Camp.

“Keep eyes up,” You spoke, pulling down the bandana, and projecting your voice to the group. “See anything odd, speak up, but keep as quiet as possible. Don’t know if this other group is out.”

All of you made your way down the main road, before turning down a residential street and going through the forest line back toward camp. You grabbed your rifle, checked the chamber, and held onto it – just in case. Being out of the camp was making you nervous. There was something about the forest being too quiet that made your stomach flip every once and a while.

“Something’s not right.” You whispered lowly as you walked up beside Jonathan, your eyes scanning around the forest. “It’s too quiet.”

Jonathan pinched his dark brows together for a moment, his steps slowing, as he listened. You watched as the realization came across his face. His footsteps stopped completely causing you and the rest of the group to do the same. You looked back where Argyle was at the back of the group with the new recruits between the three of you. Your eyes took a quick inventory of the four new recruits. Lucas, Vicky, Nick, and Laura all looked between you three with confused looks on your face. But before either of you could mutter a word, the familiar pop of a gun echoed through before the splintering of a tree to your left.

“Get down!” Argyle screamed, placing a hand on Lucas’ back and sending the younger man to the ground.

Your heart leaped in your throat as another shot rang out and you used a thicker tree as cover, cocking your shotgun, before turning and pointing it in the direction of the gunfire. Your eyes sight went down along the barrel of the shotgun where you caught movement between the trees. You didn’t think. Just took a deep breath before pulling the trigger. You watched as the shotgun shell hit against a tree and caused a large crack.

“Two on the left,” Jonathan reports, ducking behind a fallen tree and sending shot after shot in the direction you’d seen the figure moving.

“Lucas,” You turned and looked at him, he was still lying on the ground. “Get the others to camp. Keep low! Tell Hopper!”

His dark eyes stared at you for a moment before nodding his head, grabbing Vicky’s hand, and pulling her from the group. Nick and Laura followed close behind. You stepped out from behind the tree to cover their backs, sending shot after shot toward the direction of the gunfire. A shout from the distance gave you an indication that one of them hit. Argyle and Jonathan moved to get better vantage, but you stayed in place, looking out for the dark figures that moved through the trees like ghosts.

“On the right!” Argyle screamed toward you, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and fear.

Your head whipped to the right, pointing, and shooting as you watched someone move closer to you. The shotgun clipped a tree causing small splinters into the air.

Slinging your shotgun across your back, you moved and ducked to move more toward the left, keeping your eyes on their form. Whoever they were, they were small, roughly the same height as you. Your eyes caught a short curly hair as you moved more behind them.

Keeping your body low, and your steps as quiet as possible, you were soon up on them. Using the force of your body weight, you knocked yourself into them, sending both of you to the group.  A deep knock of air could be heard coming from their chest as the two of you knocked onto the ground.

Straddling their waist, you brought your fist back and brought it down hard against their nose. The sickening snap of their nose breaking could be heard along with their cry of pain. You brought your fist down again, breaking the nose more, and spraying blood against the two of you. When you moved to hit them again, instead, they sent a fist into your stomach – knocking the air from your chest. Your weight was shifted as they moved to straddle over you, but you thought quickly, instead, you brought your boots up and knocked them in the chest.

An angry growl came from deep within your chest as you went in for the attack again. You didn’t have control, instead acted on your rage, and landed your fist over and over again.

You didn’t notice the gunshots had stopped or hear the call of your name. The person beneath you reached and fisted your hair tightly and knocked your forehead against theirs. Stars danced in your sight with spots of black and white. Soon you felt your body hitting the forest floor with the twigs, rocks, and your shotgun digging into your back before another knocked violently into your sides.

“Fuck!” You screamed and rolled onto your side, curving your body in as protection, as another kick came against you.

You felt the air knock from your lungs again as a cough racked through your body. It didn’t take much thought to know you were most likely coughing up blood. Your hand gripped tightly to your knife before swinging back and cutting across their arm. You watched as their eyes widened for a moment, giving you a chance to scramble back to your feet.

And in that moment you fully got a look at who you had been fighting for. The cloud of self-defense lifts for a moment for recognition to hit you. Her hair was shorter, but you knew that face. Even beyond the swollen nose, and bruises starting to form – it was Wendy.

“W-Wendy?” You rasped out with a puff of air escaping your lungs.

Her hand grasped tightly to her bleeding air as she looked at you. A shout of your name drew your attention away, and before you knew it, Wendy was slipping from your sight.

“Wait!” You shouted, moving to chase after her and ignoring the pain that was shooting through your body.

You caught up to her quickly, moving to throw yourself against her and knocking her back down against the forest floor. She screamed out in pain again and fought against you. But your injuries weren’t as bad as hers, giving you the upper hand.

“Wendy! Stop! It’s me! It’s me!” You shouted toward her, grabbing tightly to her arms, and holding them down beside her.

But she was crazed, fighting against you again. Wendy freed her arms and sent her fist into the side of your head before twisting her boy from beneath you. Wendy moved to stand quickly and the last thing you saw was the flash of her boot before everything around you went dark.

Eddie panted heavily as he moved through the forest, his eyes frantically searching from side to side, for any sight of you. When Lucas came running back into came without you, Jonathan, or Argyle – he’d never felt a fear like that before. He was already upset and scared by the fact that Hopper had put him on another detail. Eddie was the first to intercept Lucas the moment he spotted him running through the front yard of the Lab toward the main entrance.

“Where is she!?” Eddie spoke, his eyes frantic as he stared down at the younger man.

 But now here Eddie stood in the middle of the forest with no sight of you. It didn’t take long for him to find Jonathan and Argyle – Steve, Hopper, and Enzo coming with him the moment Lucas spoke of the group falling under attack. But when there wasn’t a sight of you that sickening feeling returned and only worse.

“She went to the left, lost sight of her maybe ten minutes ago,” Jonathan explained. “A small group from the radicals cornered us. But we got one and the others ran off – except for one. That’s the one she went after.”

“And you left her alone without having coverage?” Hopper scolded.

“We were outnumbered, man. I’d say we did pretty good with the little we had!” Argyle argued.

“Span out, find her, now!” Eddie ordered with conviction and walked off in the direction Jonathan had said he last saw you walk off in.

Eddie called out your name over and over for what felt like forever but knew it was only minutes. His heart wouldn’t stop beating erratically against his chest as he swept his eyes looking for you. He took a step and felt something against the bottom of his feet. When his dark eyes looked down, Eddie saw the glint of a blade beneath the heavy sole of his boot. Bending down, Eddie’s fear only worsened when he recognized your knife. The heavy handle of the knife felt like a pound of lead in his palms as he stared down at it.

“Fuck,” Steve whispered as he came up beside Eddie, “Wait…look,”

Steve pointed off to the left where an obvious splatter of blood rested on the bright green leaves of a bush. Eddie was the first to move forward, sliding the knife into his back pocket. He followed the path of blood spatter and drops and stumbled across the sigh of your boots peaking from behind a cluster of bushes.

The way he screamed your name was of nothing but deep fear and pain. Eddie rushed forward and scraped his knees down against the forest floor, ignoring the shooting pain in his knees, as his eyes fell upon your unconscious form.

“Oh, baby,” His voice cracking, with shaking hands reaching out to gently caress your face, a curse leaving his mouth as he saw the blood, and forming bruises, against your skin. “Fuck!”

“Shit” Steve cursed coming up behind him, his fingers moving through his dark curls and gripping them tightly. “Hopper! Over here!”

Eddie felt a small bubble of relief when he saw the small rise and fall of your chest. He moved like he was afraid to touch you, afraid to hurt you more, with his hand caressing against your cheek. He ignored the drops of tears that fell against your cheek and mixed with your blood, instead whispering softly to you. Begging for your eyes to open, and praying to whatever was out there that he wasn’t going to lose you again.

Hope you all enjoyed it! If you did, please like + reblog it really helps and lets me know if people are reading/enjoying/want more. I appreciate all of you for taking the time to read this. I am still unsure how many chapters this will be (I'm shooting for no more than 30) but we're coming to the climax! Also, Wendy never died...huh...

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[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Dancing 'til the break of dawn - Pt2

<Pt1

(TWST zombie apocalypse au for all your crack-fic needs)

As a kind of ‘sorry for almost stabbing you, please do not sic your zombie cat on me’ gesture, Ace gripped Yuu’s hand and dragged him into the back of the convenience store so they could share a nice little meal together.

Well… it would be nice, if Yuu wasn’t approximately 99% sure that Ace was a cannibal. After all, he hadn’t had any supplies on him that would have been worth stealing, much less killing over, that was why he had come into the convenience store in the first place. And it wasn’t like the store had been openly claimed in any of the traditional ways, with a blackened zombie corpse out front or a big bar over the window and a handwritten sign telling people to stay out ‘or else’. 

And Grim had accepted Ace’s mystery meat. Yuu had lived with the zombie for quite a while, now, so he knew for a fact that Grim was very particular about his diet. Much to his chagrin, might he add. It was a little gross to watch his cat feast on the corpses of what had once been humans. He only spared so much of his innocence by turning his face away whenever the zombie needed to eat.

All of this to say: Yuu did not like the look of the bowlful of mystery meat he was offered. Especially since it wasn’t really all that much of a mystery.

He took it gingerly, but was reluctant to actually eat any. He tossed some to Grim when Ace turned away to prepare himself a bowl, and winced when Grim snapped it up without the slightest trace of hesitation.

Well, that confirms that theory.

Ace settled down a few feet away and started digging in. Without even cringing. Maybe it was good?

Yuu poked at the meat with his chopsticks, frowning a little. When cooked it, frankly, didn’t look that different from any other meat. Though it looked bland. Did Ace not know what spices are? Yuu was pretty sure he had seen a few spice jars scattered around the shop, couldn’t he have spared at least a couple?

Beyond that, though, he was… less than eager to learn if everything really does just taste like chicken.

Would it be rude to refuse, though? Ace had cooked it for him…

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, uh, why didn’t you just… eat the food that was here?”

Ace didn’t seem to know what he was talking about, so Yuu motioned to the aisles upon aisles of food that he was using as bait.

Ace seemed to buffer for an entire minute.

“Well… it’s not sustainable. I mean, we’re going to be stuck like this until… who knows how long. I don’t know how to tend to plants or – anything.”

Yuu gave him a flat look. “Y’know, I’d believe that if it wasn’t very clear that you’re making this up on the spot.”

Ace scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, what do you know? You befriended a fucking zombie.”

“It was really dark, okay?!”

Grim glowered at Ace. And then snapped at his knee.

“Get your fucking cat!” Ace screeched.

Yuu sighed. “Grim, just because you don’t like someone doesn’t mean you can kill them. We’ve been over this.”

Grim, for lack of a better word, sulked at the reminder.

Ace, however, looked horrified. “... how many times has Grim killed someone you made ‘friends’ with?”

“I try not to think about it,” Yuu admitted.

Ace looked like he wanted to die… well, actually, like he very much did not want to die. “Well, you – you scold him afterward, right?”

“Of course!”

“You’d scold him if he killed me, then?” Ace sounded a little bit desperate. He looked at the zombie. “You hear that? You’ll get told off if you kill me!”

Grim looked like he was very much ready to take that risk.

“You – you have to start doing more,” said Ace. “Like, at least say you won’t talk to him anymore if he kills me.”

Yuu frowned. That seemed a little bit extreme. Grim was his special little guy. He couldn’t just stop talking to him.

Ace would claim until the end of time that he did not whimper. That the sound he made was actually very cool and manly. Ace is a liar.

Yuu, however, is not. Which is why he never agreed to abandon his beloved cat.

His beloved cat was, technically, a murderer, but we all have our flaws. Yuu didn’t care that much. Though… he seemed to be an exception – people always stressed when Grim’s kill count was brought up, it was so annoying. And hypocritical, in Ace’s case, seeing as he was a serial killer/cannibal.

Yuu didn’t need to deal with this.

“I’m going to grab some spices,” he decided, pushing himself to his feet. “If I’m going to be eating this, it needs to actually taste good.”

Ace yelped and jumped up as well, almost running to latch onto Yuu’s arm, squinting at Grim with open suspicion. “Here, I know where they are, let me take you there!”

Grim narrowed his eye right back at him. But, upon receiving a warning look from Yuu, settled down on his front paws and glared at nothing.

So, with little additional fanfare, Yuu and Ace grabbed a few spices from the shelves, and Yuu worked at making a spice combination that would go with something he had never tried before and didn’t even really want to eat now.

He managed to make something that tasted… fine. On its own, at least. He had no clue how well it would work with human flesh.

So, Ace was to be his test subject.

(Should he trust Ace as a test subject? He was already eating people, his taste buds might not have been all that normal… whatever. Yuu was having a day. He was officially tired of parsing out things like logic and morality.)

He spiced up the meat and then gave it to Ace to try.

Ace glanced at him, slightly wary. But he had watched Yuu grab all of the spices, so it wasn’t like he could have poisoned it. The worst it could be was gross. He took a careful bite.

He almost dropped his bowl.

He looked at Yuu with stars in his eyes.

“Never leave me,” Ace said.

Yuu’s eyebrows raised just slightly. “Not scared of Grim anymore?”

“It’s worth it. I can’t cook for shit. I’ve been dying here.”

Yuu snickered into his hand.

Grim narrowed his eye at Ace. Ace – who was definitely a little more concerned about the zombie cat than he had originally tried to claim – hesitated, before scooping a little bit of the meat out onto the floor for him.

The zombie sniffed the peace offering for a moment before eating it.

Grim was enlightened.

Yuu realized, dully, that this was probably the first time the zombie had ever had seasoned food. He felt… strangely guilty about this.

He rubbed the zombie’s head, scratching behind his cat’s ear in just the way he liked it. Grim purred and, apparently, decided that Ace could live for another day, so long as Yuu continued to love on him for the rest of the night.

“I guess the food was a hit,” Yuu joked lightly.

“It’s really good,” Ace said, nudging the bowl towards him to try.

He picked it up gingerly and blew on the… ‘food’.

… in the end, Yuu only managed a few bites before he had to stop. It tasted fine, but he couldn’t get over what it actually was. He resolved himself to make a run to the store sometime within the next week or two for something he could eat without feeling physically ill – or mentally ill, for that matter.

(He wanted to use what they already had in the store, but Ace insisted that his bait was not to be disturbed. Remind him why he had chosen to be friends with Ace, again?)

~

Yuu stubbed his toe on a can of beans of all things. Ace had taken to trying to drive him away with petty inconveniences, since anything too openly hostile would end in him getting killed. It was kind of funny, when it wasn't happening to you.

He punched a shelf out of frustration.

Great. Now his hand, hurt, too.

"Sh-ugar," Yuu hissed.

Ace snorted. "You can swear, man, it's the apocalypse. I do it all the time. Watch: fuckshitbitchdamnhellIcan'tthinkofanymoreshitshitshit! See? No one to get onto my case about it."

Yuu scowled. "Nope. I'm perfect and virtuous and -."

"Your best friend is a zombie."

He threw up his hands in frustration. "You befriend one zombie and suddenly all of the good things you've ever done are null and void!"

Ace raised an eyebrow.

Yuu scowled. How was he supposed to have known that helping out a random stray would end the world as he knew it? Grim was the very first zombie, it would have been weirder to assume that there was something wrong, in his opinion!

"I'm never doing anything nice ever again," Yuu decided.

"You've done nice things before?"

"Shut up and go cut up that body at the front of the store so I can start making dinner."

"Very nice of you," Ace teased.

"It is," Yuu said flatly. "I don't have to feed you, you know."

Ace, to his surprise, didn't back off. Instead, he grinned widely. He clapped Yuu on the shoulder. "You're already getting the hang of it! I'll corrupt you in no time."

Yuu fought the urge to curse, if only because he didn't want to further prove Ace's point.

After all, he hated Ace and didn't find him at all funny. Ignore the little smile that threatened to tug at his lips the moment Ace was safely out of sight. Yuu was certainly ignoring it.

~

Yuu squinted at the veritable forest that had grown in the garden section of the old, abandoned grocery store.

Man, things go to the dogs fast in the apocalypse.

Or should he say they went to the cats? Since it was a cat that had started this all?

He looked down at Grim. The zombie had been clinging to his side even more than usual. Yuu wasn’t sure if it was because the almost-murder had spooked the cat, or if him becoming kinda-friends with his almost-murderer had made the cat decide that Yuu absolutely could not at any cost be left alone ever again, or if Grim was jealous that he no longer had Yuu’s undivided attention anymore, or if the zombie just really liked the texture of Yuu’s new baggy sweatpants and would take any opportunity to rub up against them. Really, all of those options were equally likely.

And, though Yuu was definitely the one with all the power in this scenario, he wanted his darling subordinate’s opinion:

“Do you approve of this?” he said, smiling wryly as he motioned to the mess of plants.

Grim squinted suspiciously at the plants, as if he was half-convinced there would be another Ace hidden in the shadows.

He didn’t seem to see anything, for he didn’t start growling or puffing up like he did when he was trying to be menacing, so Yuu took a cautious step forward.

Grim sunk his teeth into the fabric of his pant leg.

Yuu’s life flashed before his eyes. The zombie’s teeth didn’t touch his skin, but they could have if he had moved even the slightest bit unpredictably, and he did not appreciate that he had almost been killed.

He looked down at his cat, disapproving.

Grim didn’t look cowed (or… cated?), instead tugging on Yuu’s pant leg, trying to physically drag him away from the forest.

Yuu sighed.

He supposed that it was unlikely that he’d find any useful plants in the brush, anyway.

“Alright, plan B, then,” he said, somewhat reluctantly.

He grabbed the nearest plant pot filled with soil, and then walked right back into the store proper.

~

Yuu stepped into the convenience store, still frowning just slightly over his gross bag full of rotting fruits. It was wrapped in as many bags as he could physically tie around it, plus some, but it was still a miserable thing to carry.

You would think he’d get used to the smell of rot and death, but no. It’s a surprisingly varied smell. Just when you think you’ve smelled it all, another, worse smell will make itself known.

He hates his life. And his bag, right now. Ugh, he would never get the smell out of these clothes.

At least these seeds would, probably, sprout into something useful once he planted them. He wasn’t sure, since the plants themselves were rotted and therefore there was a very real chance that the seeds would be useless. He, frankly, did not have much knowledge about gardening, because he was a normal teen boy… but he could figure it out! He grabbed a couple of books on the subject, he’d be an expert in no time. By sheer force of will. He was determined to eat as few human beings as was physically possible.

Speaking of.

His cannibal friend.

He would… prefer not to catch the boy by surprise. For hopefully obvious reasons.

“Aaaaaace. I got that bell and string you wanted,” Yuu called, ringing the bell once for emphasis, before making his way further inside.

He could hear a flurry of movement, but he wasn’t entirely sure where it was coming from. Maybe Ace had been asleep and was scrambling to get himself back into order before Yuu could see his bedhead…?

Ace cursed, loudly. This did not necessarily disprove that thought, but Yuu did end up remembering that Ace’s hair always looked like a bedhead, and there was no reason for him to suddenly care about it.

So… the sound was probably…

Yuu looked down at Grim, betrayed. “Did you send a zombie after my friend?!” he hissed.

Grim looked like he had only just now realized that that was an option. Which meant that it wasn’t a zombie that Ace was fighting. But then… what?

“Ace?” he called, standing on tiptoes to try and see over the shelves, trying to figure out where the scuffle was coming from. “You good?”

There was a loud banging sound from somewhere in the back of the store, and a shelf wobbled uncertainly.

Well, that answers that question.

He rushed towards the back of the store, and… well, he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but it really wasn’t to find Ace sitting on top of the freezer, looking for all the world as if he was entirely innocent… with a backpack and bat that Yuu had never seen before at his feet, and what looked to be a bruise forming on his cheek.

“Oh, hey. Yuu. You’re back. Thanks for the. Bell,” the boy said, entirely natural in his cadence and definitely not doing that thing you do when you’re entirely out of breath and trying to keep quiet about it because someone is passing you and you don’t want this random stranger to know how inactive you are.

Yuu raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re… welcome?”

There was a banging sound from inside of the freezer Ace was sitting on. Ace tried very hard not to react, but his fingers curled tighter around his knife anyway.

“There’s a person in there, isn’t there?” Yuu said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Noooooo,” said Ace, batting his eyelashes.

The not-person-inside-of-the-freezer screamed something that sounded distinctly like the word ‘yes’. This did not convince Yuu of Ace’s innocence.

Even Grim seemed to give Ace a look that screamed ‘who do you think you are fooling?’

“So, if there’s no person in there, then you’ll have no problem opening it, right?”

Ace’s smile strained at the edges. “... c’mon, man, don’t do this to me.”

Yuu looked at the freezer, mentally debating whether it was worth it to even get involved. Frankly, it was the apocalypse, and everyone that was still alive kind of sucked, and there was a nonzero chance that the person would not take being shoved into a freezer lightly and would try and kill them immediately upon being let out.

He sighed.

“How old did they look?” Yuu asked.

Ace hesitated just a hair longer than would typically be to Yuu’s liking.

He groaned. “Open it.”

Ace looked like he would very much prefer not doing that. But, when Yuu prodded him with his foot, he reluctantly stood and, holding his knife out in preparation for a possible attack, allowed him to unlock the freezer.

Another person, maybe about their age, emerged from the freezer like a vampire might emerge from a coffin, grim expression and all. This effect was ruined by the fact that his hair was… blue? Maybe he was a blond who had dyed his hair black with shitty dye and it had washed out weirdly without touch-ups. Or maybe he was just really into blue hair and was working to maintain it even throughout the apocalypse. Who knows?

The boy groaned and stepped out of the freezer, scowling at Ace. “Thank you,” he grumbled, immediately picking up his bat again. He stepped between Yuu and Ace, raising his weapon. He pointed it at the redhead, which is, really, not what you’re supposed to do with a bat. “You should run, he’s dangerous.”

Ace looked somewhere between flattered and offended. “Hey! That’s my –...” Ace trailed off, unsure. Yuu wondered, absently, what he would say. Would he call him a friend? Partner? Fellow survivor, even? “Chef!” Ouch. “He’s not leaving here, he’s mine!”

Grim growled.

“And Grim’s!” he added hastily.

The blue-haired boy, though, paused. He looked for the origin of the sound. Yuu nudged Grim into a shadowed area so he looked more like a normal cat. Because the boy seemed well-intentioned, and therefore was very likely to be against Yuu having a zombie for a pet.

What does that say about Yuu’s relationship with Grim? Well, he’d rather not think about it!

Yuu sighed, stepping around him carefully, holding his hands up placatingly. “I appreciate it, but it’s fine.”

The boy looked incredulous. “He’s killing and eating people?! He doesn’t even act like he likes you?! You’re his chef?!”

“Listen, man, it’s the apocalypse, I don’t have that many options.”

“Dude…” He offered Yuu a hand. “I’ll be your friend. I’m Deuce Spade. What’s your name?”

Ew, pity. He didn’t want a pity friend. He could take Ace talking to him out of fear of Grim or respect for his cooking prowess, but pity? No thanks.

Ace snatched up the outstretched hand before Yuu could even try to shake it (not that he currently wanted to), squeezing with way more force than was entirely necessary. “Ace Trappola. Nice to meet you.”

Deuce looked disgusted. And then mildly terrified when Ace made as if to slice off his hand.

Yuu was quick to grab Ace by the arm to stop him from murdering someone for the high crime of daring to suggest that he was not the safest person to be around. How could he not see that this was proving Deuce’s point?! You’d think he’d refrain from killing for the sake of being petty, at least, but no!

Deuce’s eyes looked strangely misty. Not even because of the almost-dying thing, that was pretty much par for the course when running into other survivors, he looked so upset about Yuu’s situation. Yuu wondered what kind of soap-opera-esque backstory the boy was dreaming up for him.

He didn’t get to ask, because Deuce quickly derailed the conversation before he could: “I guess I’ll have to stay here until you’re ready to leave.”

Ace spluttered. “No?! We let you live, you’re supposed to go, now?!”

Deuce scoffed. “Why do you get to make that decision?”

“This is my base?!”

Deuce, apparently, was not going to be swayed by Ace’s facts and logic.

Ace gave Yuu a pleading look. “Yuu, can we please kill him now?”

Yuu thought about it. And then shook his head, a tiny grin threatening to steal across his lips. “Nah, letting him stay is way funnier.”

From the look on everyone else’s faces, they vehemently disagreed.

But this isn’t about them! So, Deuce got to stay. Much to the chagrin of everyone. Including himself!

~~~~~~~

Pt3>

[bulldog-geckorahhhhh]

SPOOKY MONTH AU I MENTIONED EARLIER

Ok so before I get to the actual au stuff- just some quick info!

Skids dad is heavily featured in this. I call him Beverly in this, Beverly N’mancy. (A play on necromancy. Get it?? Get it??)

This is a zombie apocalypse au, but also heavily focused on supernatural shit. Okay cool. Have a blurb of writing cause I autism blasted.

Years ago, a ritual was written, just in case. In case of what? Death. If Beverly were to ever die, the cult knows what to do. A specific day, of a specific year, under specific stars, that is when it must happen. They must ask the stars for just a fraction of their energy, their power, even if they truly don't deserve it. Of course, Beverly has always said humanity did not deserve the stars, or their power. Yet now his written words are calling for them to ask the stars for help..?

Well maybe now they should ask anything else out there for forgiveness. The ritual took place, as their leader's writings had requested. On the day, of that year, under those stars. On that day Eldritch magic surged through the town, a curse being born of it all. A curse that raised the dead. Not just Beverly, but every dead body in that town. They rose, many mindless and starving as any zombie. Yet Beverly, ever clever and reliable Beverly, he rose smart. He rose aware, and with a gift from the stars! A hand that rotted all to bone, a hand that rotted whatever it touched.

So Beverly took his place once more, leader of the cult again. Though he smells of death, and growls out curses in long dear languages, he's still their leader. He promises salvation, greatness and knowledge. Would he ever truly lead the beloved cult astray? Of course not! He's no longer just a man, he's a being of death and starlight. He will lead the town to glory.

Ok so basically! A cult ritual brings all the dead in the town, including skids dad back from the grave. Beverly is the only zombie that has a functioning brain, because of prior fucked up cult shit. Beverly has a skeleton hand, one that spreads a slow rot to anything it touches. He's the main antagonist of the au, because he's a constant, looming threat. Along with the other zombies, who are also very dangerous.

So far I haven't exactly decided what cannon characters succumb to the zombies, but these aren't like- normal typical zombies. When they bite you, you're not turned into a zombie. The bite wound will rot incredibly fast, blackening the skin until the limb you were bit on falls off. If you weren't bitten on a limb, rather on your chest or torso, that's a fatal end for you. You are bound to die.

The dead (besides Beverly) continue to rot though, and eventually their muscles will give out on them. They will no longer be able to move, but will still be conscious. The towns dead will never stay dead for the rest of time, any new dead will rise.

I have hcs for specific characters- but I'm tired of typing for now so if you want to know PLEASE ask!! I like talking about my thoughts and stuff.

[mimithesketchfigure]

“THUNK FAST CHUCKNUTS”

[evilgwrl]

TF 141 x Reader (Apocalypse!AU)

Immune: Twelve

WARNING: This is a 18+ Poly!141 series (MDNI)

CW: Genuinely this is pure filth, THREESOME!!!!! (MxFxM), food play (with an apple [nothing internal]), oral sex (f&m receiving), choking, praise, hints to a gang bang, reverse cowgirl, spanking, hickies, titty sucking, overstimulation, possessive behaviour from Mr Simon, slight asphyxiation

Taglist: @waves-against-a-cliff @echo9821 @beebeechaos @h3art3at3rr @johannxseb @cndy-l0v3 @nylluns @pomegranategum @tapioca-marzipan

Masterlist

P.S Barry Sloane (aka Captain Price) I love you

P.S.S I also wrote this listening to Closer by NIN

The taste of his skin was salted, a magnitude of sweat and work lacing every indent of his flesh as he worked his thumb into the heat of your mouth, pulsing tongue wrapping around the digit like you were famished. You didn’t need to look at the former Captain to feel his gaze, a flurry of overblown pupils tainting every vision of skin that fell in his view.

Simon’s grip was molten, staining your ribcage as it crumbled under his touch, perked nipples presented under scalding air. His eyes were sinister, consumed by blackened holes of greed as his lips found your neck, tugging the tender dermis between gritted teeth with a suck.

The apple was warm, juices seeping between Price’s canines as Simon laid you down, swollen arm wrapping around your left leg to hold it open, his mouth drooling across your chest in a ludicrous manner. Thick strings of spit fell across hardened buds, the Lieutenant’s tongue imposing on their sensitivity.

Your head tilted as Price smiled at you, holding the fruit to your mouth before you bit down, a spray of liquid cascading down your chin as it stuck to your neck, a small puddle of sweetness catching between your collarbones. His grip was tight, squishing the browning flesh over you as he drenched your breasts with the tasteful substance, a trail leading just above your pubic area.

Simon was quick, lapping at the residue on your chest, all the way to your neck, hooking your leg up as your mound fluttered, open for Price’s gaze as his mouth met your abdomen, trailing his tongue as he pressed against the nectar he poured across you. Gritted teeth nipped at your stomach as you gasped, bucking your hips reactively.

Ghost’s mouth was quick against yours, the taste of apple almost vulgar as he racked his tongue into your mouth, pushing against your own in an arrogant fight for dominance. Your cry into his mouth was taboo, almost pornographic, as you felt Price spread your cunt open, tangy slick drooling between exposed folds. Invasive digits pressed against your hooded clit, catching the way your body jolted, thighs attempting to shut as a whack sounded against the fat of your leg.

“Keep your legs open,” the oldest man hissed, his beard pricking against your nether region as he pressed his nose against it, inhaling. Simon smirked against your mouth, biting down on your tongue as you whined, the taste of metallic pooling into both of your tastebuds as his hand found your neck, coiling around it in a vast movement, his lips now against your earlobe as he suckled the flesh into his jaws.

“Pri-“

Your words were cut off by his tongue, the intrusive muscle diving in between your pussy with a grin as he growled into your heat, tongue lapping at your beckoning hole with torment. Your eyes squeezed shut instantly, moans strangled out by Simon’s grip against your throat as he kissed you again, tainting your delicate skin with pebbles of internal bruises.

Simon’s words were thick against your mouth, drawing you in with every syllable, “We’ll never let anyone else near you, you understand me? All ours.”

Your nod was vicious as you groaned into the kiss, a needy, ‘please’ leaving your constricted throat at the possessiveness in his tone. Your head was foggy, wracked with nothing but pleasure. You were distracted, body compliant to the men before you as you gravelled in the attention.

Price was desperate, slurping at your cunt with hunger as he gripped your right thigh, digging his nails into your skin with every lap. His beard was drenched, soaked in the taste of your slick as his forefinger hitched at your clit, dragging the bead in a circular motion, his tongue focused on fucking your wanton entrance.

You were shellshocked – almost unable to breathe from the stimulation, your body on fire from the animosity of pleasure. Simon’s attention fell back on your tits, groping one as he sucked on the other, almost uncontrollably, as he switched between the two.

Your orgasm was growing fast, yet painfully slow, holding your belly in a tight coil, freezing you up in fulfilment as your chest hicked, the air from your lungs sucked into your ears with a growing buzz before you choked out a scream, your clit throbbing intensely as Price continued his abuse, slurping as he bullied your pulsing bead.

“Good fucking girl,” the man growled against you, your body writhing as unshed tears met your eyes, back cascading into an arch as you whined, attempting to buck him off with your hips.

His movements felt relentless, overwhelming, yet it was even worse when he pulled away, a zephyr rushing to your exposed, swollen cunt. Simon’s hands quickly found your heat, working two fingers between drenched folds as you rutted.

“N-No Simon – it’s too much-“

Price’s laugh was brutal, watching your thighs stutter against the sheets, every movement sent to your chest. His cock was painfully hard, stretched across his pants as he watched your hand dip under the covers, tugging at Simon’s shaft in a twisting motion as the man hitched his movements for a brief second before tugging you on top of him.

Your mound was quick to meet his length, clit caught on a bulging vein as you moved against it, mouth wide open with pleasure. The Lieutenant’s hiss was noticeable as his hand found your ass, dragging you along his cock with familiarity. Price folded his arms, watching the two of you, before his fingers wrapped around his boxers with a harsh squeeze, his zipper spluttering, tugging his length out of confinement.

The scene seemed unlawful, a different genre of taboo as John’s hand found your hair, stroking your scalp gently, working your locks in between scarred fingers. You were fast to turn, your ass facing Simon as horny fingers delved into the flesh, eliciting a quiet groan from the man underneath you. Your hips were raised as he ran his cock through your slit, pearly beads of precum sticking to your slick in a lewd manner before he circled your hole with desperation, clutching onto you as you lowered, a hoarse moan leaving your lips.

He was everywhere, searing through your cunt with certainty as he worked himself into you, rigid cock tainting your pillowy walls as your mouth transfixed into an ‘o’ shape, the colour of your eyes turning a starchy white.

“So fucking gorgeous, ain’t you?” Price cooed, running a finger over your spit-swollen lips, rubbing at your teeth in a back-and-forth motion. Your smile was subtle, your hair falling over your eyes as you leaned forward, taking his cock into your hand, your body jutting forward as Simon fucked up, a pained whine elicited from you.

“Tha’s it, just like that,” Simon uttered, running a hand over the fat of your backside as you adjusted just above his stomach, the other’s man dick moments from your face. Neediness adorned your features as the Captain held your hair back in his hand, a fat glob of spit falling from your lips as it landed across his shaft, your fingers quickly working it into the skin.

Your mouth was hot, a layer of sweat coating your body as you took his length into your wet crevice, your tongue itching out to kitten lick the tip, the salty taste of his anticipation coating your taste buds.

It was almost like an initiation, John’s eyes met Simon’s with a curt nod, the man below you beginning to fuck up into your wet heat, a grunt leaving his lips at how tight you wrapped around him. Your mouth was wide, inviting the oldest man in with ease as he guided you across his length with your hair, a gag sounding across the room as he pushed further down your tongue.

With your cheeks hollowed, you stared up at Price, eyes wide with pleasure, glossy with tears. His face was contorted with pleasure, beard still wet from his previous activities as he used your mouth, working himself off with your tongue.

Simon’s thrusts were forceful, sending the other’s cock further down your lips, the fuzz of his pubes brushing against the tip of your nose as you gagged and spluttered, spit drooling from the sides. You were a blubbering mess, choking against Price’s length in a pornographic picture as he rutted down your throat, kissing your tonsils with a bruise.

Your hand found his hip, gripping the tender flesh as you swallowed around him, crying out as Simon brushed against your sweet spot, your cunt clenching.

“So fucking tight – fuckin’ perfect,” the Lieutenant spat, his hands smacking down on your ass with every deep thrust.  Price watched your eyes roll back, your tongue flat as he ran his cock against it, chasing his orgasm both from fucking your face and the pure sight of you.

“Gonna cum down this pretty throat, hm?”

You nodded, head bobbing as you gagged, meeting every shallow thrust the Captain pushed into your mouth. Your body was on fire, fuelled by being used by the two men inside you.

Your cervix was kissed, split open by the throbbing cock inside you, milking his length with selfish intent, desperate to feel him. All the air was knocked from your lungs, your body only focusing on the intense pleasure you were both giving and receiving.

John’s thrusts grew sloppier, your cheeks hollowing further as he jolted, pressing you against his pudgy abdomen with a grunt before hot spurts of cum choked down your throat, streams of tears leaking from your wide eyes. You were quick to swallow, your mouth burning with a lack of oxygen as the man pulled away, panting.

Your chest heaved, catching your breath before you let out a strained whine, Simon’s hips meeting yours as he pushed you further down onto him, hitting the deepest spot possible with every quick thrust. Your breasts shook, John’s hand quick to grope at them as he pulled you into a kiss.

“Did – so fucking – good for me, for both of us,” he growled, stroking your cheek as you smiled against his lips. He could no doubt taste himself and that somehow made it hotter, your cunt clenching further around Simon.

“Dirty girl enjoys being used by the both of us, imagine her with all four,” Simon laughed, his balls slapping against your cunt with every pound.

Your words were mousy as you whispered out, “Yes, please.” The Lieutenant only growled as he pushed you forward, your chest knocking against Price with a harsh sensation.

“That’s it, baby,” John murmured, pulling away to stare at you, cerulean eyes bloodshot with contentment.

Simon practically choked on the air as he pulled out, his cock throbbing as he spluttered cum against your ass, strings of ivory staining your skin in an obscene manner, your body collapsing against the Captain.

“Jesus Christ,” you whined, still unable to fill your lungs with oxygen as you croaked out a giggle.

“Are you okay?” Simon asked, moving your hair to the side before he laced a kiss against your neck, a litter of purple marks staining your skin.

“Perfect.”

[lotusflowerbreakingthesurface]

—𝓛𝓸𝓽𝓾𝓼𝓕𝓵𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓻'𝓼 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓧𝓲𝓮 𝓞𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓑𝓵𝓸𝓰—

Finally, I finish it after working for so long (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ). I think I might be crazy to do something like this, but honestly I'm so forgetful that I want to keep things on track and sometimes curiosity gets a hold on me (｡>﹏<). And so, here is the "Tags Page" that is slightly different from the desktop version (which is much more simple, but since there is tumblr limitation, just go there for more complete links).

Since Chinese fandom culture is different from Western fandoms, I tried to compile the tags, sorted them out and found the equivalences. It's far from perfect, but if you're interested you can take a look below the cut. Basically, it's just a compilation of tags and keywords from PingXie fandom (and maybe you will find them in other fandoms too). At any rate, I hope it can be helpful (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

The banner original pictures by 刘巴布

Note: This post will be updated occasionally, so no reblog, but I'll put it in pinned post. If there is any mistake, feel free to tell me. Thank you.

Last updated: 23/10/2024

[(x)—no tags; (#)—coming soon]

✧ 架空向 (Alternate Universe/AU) #au

✧ 原著向 (Canon Compliant) #canon compliant

╰✦ if线 (What-If Scenario/Canon Divergence) #canon divergence

╰✦ Canon Rewrite #canon rewrite

╰✦ 半架空 (Semi-AU) x

✧ 古风/仙侠 (Ancient Style/Xianxia) #ancient style/xianxia au

╰✦ 古穿今 (Ancient and Modern) #ancient and modern setting

✧ 土匪 (Bandits & Outlaws) #bandit/outlaw au

✧ 大逃杀 (Battle Royale) #battle royale au

✧ 蛋糕叉子 (Cake & Fork) #cake & fork

✧ 咖啡店 (Coffee Shops & Cafés) #coffee shop au

✧ 校园 (College/University) #college/university au

✧ 刑侦/黑道 (Criminal Investigation/Underworld/Mob/Triad) #criminal investigation/underworld au

✧ 克苏鲁/克系 (Cthulhu/Cthulhu Mythos) #cthulhu au

✧ 赛博朋克 (Cyberpunk) #cyberpunk au

✧ 电竞/网游 (E-Sports/Online Games) #esports/online games au

✧ 黑客 (Hacker) #hacker au

✧ 童话 (Fairy Tale) #fairy tale au

✧ 草原 (Grassland) #grassland au

✧ 高中 (High School) #high school au

✧ 历史/近代 (Historical/Late Modern Period) #historical setting

✧ 修仙 (Immortal Cultivation) #immortal cultivation au

✧ 星际 (Interstellar/Space) #interstellar/space au

✧ 幼儿园 (Kindergarten) #kindergarten au

✧ 黑手党 (Mafia) #mafia au

✧ 医生pa (Medical) #medical au

✧ 人鱼/鲛人 (Mermaid/Merman/Merpeople) #merpeople au

✧ 江湖 (Martial Arts) x

╰✦ 武侠 (Wuxia) #wuxia au

✧ 军旅 (Military/Army) #military au

✧ 现代 (Modern Setting) #modern au

✧ 职场 (Office/Workplace) #office/workplace

✧ 监狱 (Prison) #prison au

✧ 民国 (Republican Era/Republic of China) #republican era setting

✧ 皇族/皇室 (Royalty/Imperial) #royalty/imperial au

✧ 祭品 (Sacrifice) #sacrifice au

✧ 谍战 (Secret Agent/Spy) #secret agent/spy au

✧ 娱乐圈 (Show Business/ShowBiz/Entertainment Industry) #show business/showbiz au

✧ 灵魂伴侣 (Soulmates) #soulmates au

✧ 包养 (Sugar Baby) #sugar baby au

✧ 无限流 (Unlimited Flow/Infinite Flow) #unlimited flow

✧ 吸血鬼 (Vampire) #vampire au

✧ 狼人 (Werewolf) #werewolf au

✧ 野生动物保育 (Wildlife Conservation) #wildlife conservation au

✧ 末世丧尸 (Zombie Apocalypse) #zombie apocalypse au

╰✦ 废土 (Post-Apocalyptic/Wasteland) #wasteland au

✧ A/B/O (Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics) #a/b/o

╰✦ E/A/B/O (Enigma/Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics) #e/a/b/o

✧ 年龄差 (Age Difference) x

╰✦ 年操 (Age Changes) x

╰✦ 大瓶小邪/年上 (Older Xiaoge × Younger Wu Xie/Older Top) #older top/gong

╰✦ 小瓶大邪/年下 (Younger Xiaoge × Older Wu Xie/Younger Top) #younger top/gong

✧ 失忆 (Amnesia) #amnesia

✧ 古代 (Ancient Times) x

✧ 兽化/拟物 (Animal Characteristic/Transformation/Inanimate Objects) #animal characteristic/transformation

✧ 黑化 (Blackening/Dark Character) #blackening/dark character

✧ 相亲 (Blind Date) x

✧ 不doi就出不去的房间/不做就出不去的房间 (Can't Escape the Room Unless/Trapped Together) #trapped together

✧ 竹马 (Childhood Friends) #childhood friends

╰✦ 青梅竹马 (Childhood Sweethearts) x

✧ 养成 (Cultivation/Raising Spouse/Partner) #raising spouse

✧ 解毒 (Detoxification) x

✧ 狗血 (Dog Blood/Cliche Story) x

✧ 先do后爱 (Do It First Love Later) #do it first love later

✧ 喝醉 (Drunkenness) #drunkenness

✧ 双洁 (Dual Virgins) x

✧ 敌人变爱人 (Enemy to Lover) #enemy to lover

✧ 驱魔 (Exorcism) x

✧ 初见 (First Meetings) x

✧ 初体验/初次 (First Time) #first time

✧ 论坛体/直播体 (Forum/Live Streaming/Format: Streaming) #forum style/live streaming

✧ 朋友变恋人 (Friend to Lover) x

✧ 炮友 (Friend With Benefits) #friend with benefits

✧ 团宠 (Group Pet/Everyone's Favorite) x

✧ 蛊/下蛊 (Gu/Curse/Poison/Witchcraft/Bewitched) #gu/witchcraft

✧ 花吐症 (Hanahaki Disease) #hanahaki disease

✧ 天授 (Heavenly Gift/Tianshou) #heavenly gift/tianshou

✧ 户口 (Household Registration) x

✧ 吃醋/醋 (Jealous) #jealously

✧ 一见钟情 (Love at First Sight) x

✧ 寿命 (Life Span) #life span

✧ 婚书 (Marriage Certificate) x

✧ 见家长 (Meeting the Parents) #meeting the parents

✧ 乌龙/误会 (Misunderstandings) #misunderstandings

✧ 音乐向 (Music) #music fic

✧ 双向暗恋 (Mutual Pining/Two-Way Secret Love) #mutual pining

✧ 一夜情/419 (One-Night Stand) x

✧ 前世今生 (Past and Present Life) x

✧ 早恋 (Puppy Love) x

✧ 偏执 (Paranoia) x

✧ 创伤后应激障碍 (PTSD) x

✧ 纯爱 (Pure Love) x

✧ 报复 (Revenge) x

✧ 规则怪谈 (Rules-Based Urban Ghost Story) #ghost story

✧ 墨水瓶/腹黑张起灵 (Scheming/Black-Bellied Xiaoge) #black-bellied xiaoge

✧ 暗恋 (Secret Love) #secret love

✧ 哨向/向哨 (Sentinel & Guide) #sentinel & guide

✧ 蛇毒 (Snake Venom) #snake venom

✧ 灵魂互换 (Soul Swap) x

╰✦ 互换身体 (Body Swap) #body swap

✧ 直男 (Straight Man) x

╰✦ 掰弯/直掰弯 (Straight to Gay) #straight to gay

✧ 强强/双强 (Strong & Strong Couple) #double strong

✧ 系统 (System) #system setting

✧ 藏 (Tibet) x

✧ 穿越/重生 (Time Travel/Transmigration/Rebirth/Reincarnation) #time travel/rebirth

✧ 暗恋/暗恋变明恋 (Unrequited Love/Requited Unrequited Love) x

✧ 窗户纸 (Window Paper/Pierce the Window Paper/Ambiguous to Clear Relationship) #window paper

✧ 动作与冒险 (Action/Adventure) #action/adventure

✧ 虐 (Angst) #angst

╰✦ 先虐后甜/虐但he (Angst with a Happy Ending) #angst with a happy ending

╰✦ 高虐 (Heavy Angst) #heavy angst

╰✦ 微虐/小虐 (Light Angst) #light angst

✧ 甜饼 (Fluff) #fluff

╰✦ 日常甜饼 (Domestic Fluff) #domestic fluff

╰✦ 玻璃糖/糖刀 (Thought it was a knife, but it was actually sugar/Fluff & Angst/Glass Candy) #angst but fluff

╰✦ 玻璃渣 (Thought it was sugar, but it was actually a knife/Glass Shards) #fluff but angst

✧ 奇幻/神话 (Fantasy/Mythology) #fantasy/mythology

╰✦ 幻想元素 (Fantasy Elements) #fantasy elements

╰✦ 西幻 (Western Fantasy) #western fantasy

╰✦ 奇幻 (Xuanhuan/Fantasy) x

✧ 未来/科幻 (Future/Science Fiction) #future/science fiction

✧ 恐怖/灵异 (Horror/Supernatural) #horror/supernatural

✧ 喜剧 (Humor/Comedy) #humor/comedy

✧ 伤害与安抚 (Hurt/Comfort) #hurt/comfort

✧ 浪漫 (Romance) #romance

✧ 正剧/剧情 (Serious Drama/Tragicomedy/Drama) #drama

✧ 悬疑解谜/悬疑推理/神秘 (Suspense/Mystery/Puzzle) #suspense/mystery

✧ 悲剧 (Tragedy) #tragedy

✧ 无明显感情线 (Ambiguous Relationship) #ambiguous relationship

✧ 婚前婚后 (Before & After Marriage) #marriage fic

╰✦ 包办婚姻 (Arranged Marriage) #arranged marriage

╰✦ 逼婚 (Forced Marriage) #forced marriage

╰✦ 冥婚/阴婚 (Ghost Marriage) #ghost marriage

╰✦ 先婚后爱 (Marry First Love Later) #marry first love later

✧ 兄弟/亲人 (Brothers/Family Relationships) x

╰✦ 骨科/伪骨科 (Inc*st "Real Brothers"/Pseudo-Inc*st "Pseudo-Brothers") #real brothers/pseudo brothers

╰✦ 伪父子/养父子 (Pseudo-Father and Son/Adoptive Father and Son) #pseudo father and son

✧ 建立关系 (Developing Relationship) #developing relationship

✧ 已交往设定/已确定的关系 (Established Relationship) #established relationship

✧ 假装情侣 (Fake/Pretend Relationship) #fake/pretend relationship

✧ 慢热 (Slow Burn) #slow burn

✧ 师生恋 (Teacher-Student Relationship) #teacher & student relationship

✧ BDSM/Dom & Sub/DS Play #ds play

✧ 生子/男孕/孕期 (Childbirth/Mpreg/Pregnancy) #mpreg

✧ 下药 (Drugging) x

╰✦ 春药 (Aphrodisiacs) x

╰✦ 西班牙大苍蝇 (Spanish Fly) x

✧ 半强迫/半强制 (Dubious Consent/Dub-Con) #dubcon

✧ 强制 (Forced/Non-Con) x

✧ 强制爱 (Forced Love) x

✧ 双性转/百合 (Gender Changes {Both Xiaoge & Wu Xie}/GL) #pingxie gender changes

✧ 囚禁/囚 (Imprisonment) #imprisonment

✧ 双性邪 (Intersex Wu Xie) #intersex wu xie

✧ 发情期 (Mating Cycles/In Heat/Estrus Period) x

╰✦ 易感期 (Rut/Susceptible Period) x

╰✦ 结合热 (Bonding Heat/Combination Heat in Sentinel & Guide AU) x

✧ 墓室play (Tomb Play) #tomb play

✧ 女装 (Women's Clothing) x

✧ 阿坤/坤狗文学 (Ah Kun/KunGou "Dog" aka Ah Kun/Wu Xie) #zhang qiling (ah kun)

✧ 张秃 (Bald Zhang) #zhang qiling (prof. zhang/bald zhang)

✧ 张家 (Zhang Family) #zhang family's appearance

✧ 反苏文 (Anti-Mary Sue/Villain-Homewrecker OC/Anti-Dream Girl) x

✧ 掉马甲/马甲暴露 (Dropping the Vest/Identity Reveal) #identity reveal

✧ 小妈文学 (Falling in Love With the Stepmother) x

✧ 公路文学 (Falling in Love on the Road) #falling in love on the road

✧ 破镜重圆 (Getting Back Together/Reconciliation/[idiom] A Shattered Mirror Put Back Together) #getting back together

✧ 缺德文学 (Immoral/Unethical) x

✧ 一吴所知 (Oblivious Wu Xie; a pun of idiom “一无所知” [not knowing anything at all]) #what wu xie knows

✧ 带球跑 (Running Away With the Ball/Running Away With the Baby) #running away with the baby

✧ 偷狗文学 (Stealing the Dog/Zhang Qiling Takes Away Wu Xie From the Wu Family) x

✧ 追妻火葬场/追妻文学 (Wife-Chasing Crematorium/Suffered a Lot to Win Someone Back After Dumping Them) #wife chasing crematorium

✧ 授權翻譯 (Authorized Translation) #authorized translation

✧ BE (Bad Ending) #bad ending

✧ 角色研究 (Character Study) x

✧ 清水 (Clear Water/No Smut) x

✧ 联文 (Collaboration Fic) #collaboration fic

✧ 沙雕 (Crack Fic) #crack fic

✧ Fanfic Series #fanfic series

✧ 双视角 (Dual POV) #dual pov

✧ 双时间线 (Dual Timeline) #dual timeline

✧ Major Character Death x

✧ Medium Fic {6-20 Chapters} #medium fic

✧ 缺失片段 (Missing Scene) #missing scene

✧ Multichapter/长篇文 (Long Fic) {≥ 20 Chapters} #multichapter/long fic

✧ Oneshot #oneshot

✧ 连载 (On-Going/Unfinished) #on going/unfinished

✧ Open Ending x

✧ Outsider POV #outsider pov

✧ PWP #pwp

✧ 虐文 (Sadistic/Abuse/Cruel Fic) x

✧ Sequel Fic x

✧ 短篇文 (Short Fic) {1-5 Chapters} #short fic

✧ 甜文 (Sweet Fic) #sweet fic

✧ 临时角色死亡 (Temporary Character Death) x

✧ 双结局 (Two Endings) x

✧ 张起灵视角/哥视角 (Xiaoge POV) #zhang qiling/xiaoge pov

______๑♡⁠๑______

[emjiroki]

Zombie Apocalypse Au! Touya Todoroki x Reader

WARNINGS: graphic depictions of violence, blood & guts, explicit scenes and language, unprotected sex, mentions of suicide (they don't do it! It's just plan C), Touya has a prince albert piercing

word count: 1.5K

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back with another collab piece! For the lovely @medusashima and her ☆Rise of the Dead☆ event, thanks for letting me join! (Sorry it was a bit late) This is the first time I've really done any pieces for Touya besides my Heatstroke fic and I had a lot of fun writing for him again; hope everyone enjoys 💚

💚 Likes, comments, and reblogs much appreciated 💚

Your calves and thighs were screaming from the exertion of running, your breath coming in heavy pants as your heart thudded rapidly as the sunlight faded rapidly behind you.

"Come on, don't slow down, they're right on our ass" Touya shouted, wrapping his hand around your forearm and tugging you forward to run halfway in front of him. He was right, the rotting ghouls closing in faster and faster as you both tried desperately not to slow any. It felt like your body was on fire, like your veins were scorched and you could taste blood. The convenience store sign that bloomed over the tops of the trees had your hope soaring. 

"Touya! Through the parking lot, doors are probably unlocked" you said breathlessly. He must have seen exactly what you had, his boots thumping the pavement harder as you raced across the parking lot's asphalt. Touya rammed his shoulder against the door, it opening with a soft chime of the bell, before dragging you inside and shutting it behind him, keeping the doors closed from the onslaught of zombies piling against it as you finally got the deadbolt turned. 

"Fuck, find something I can jam against the door for more secur-". He was interrupted by the glass shattering around the grotesque hand punched through, the flesh in taters and oozing sticky blackened blood. The dead man's fingertips were split to the bone and shredded down to the base of his hand as he fisted the thick glass to tear it away, attempting to shove his face through the hole to snap at you two as you backed away; stomachs twisting at the sight of his cheeks ripping and separating from his jaw bone to showcase cracked and rotting teeth. Touya produced the spiked bat from the makeshift leather carrier he had hand stitched, a piece of bone that had been lodged into the thick wood from the last encounter you two had had with a pair of unsavory characters falling out onto the floor as cracked the weapon down against the zombie's head, it’s skull busting open to leak soupy brains onto the linoleum. The violence only seemed to send the remaining four into a frenzy, their tattered fists banging against the glass. 

"This door won't hold much longer, get behind the counter" Touya instructed, pressing a hand against the door handle with the other on the lock, "gonna take these fuckers out". You went to grab your handgun but thought better of it, only having four bullets left. Touya always told you to keep two in case of emergencies, one for you and one for him; it was always plan c and thankfully with you two working together you rarely ever had to resort to plan b. You quickly looked beneath the counter, joy shooting through you at seeing the shotgun still held in a small mounted gun rack. Touya turned the lock and stepped back from the door the moment you mounted the gun against your shoulder, your cheek smoothing along the stock as you lined your eye up with the sight and planted your feet. The shot rang out and rattled your teeth when you pulled the trigger, buckshot ripping through the first zombie that came barreling through the door. Your ears were still ringing as you racked the next shot, waiting with a pounding heart as Touya smashed through two of the others, sticky blood splattering across the shelves next to the entrance and coating the nails embedded into the surface of the bat; you heard a handful of the deadly ends breaking off and falling to the floor and knew that bat wasn’t going to hold up much longer. The last ghoul had ahold of him, its teeth snapping and desperate to get at any flesh it could as he held it off, a heavy grunt spilling past his lips at the effort of keeping the creature off of him. 

“Touya, sweep its leg! I'm ready!” You shouted, the barrel aiming for its head. Touya didn’t think twice before stomping his boot against its tibia and splintering the bone before shoving it to the ground. The last shot wasn’t near as deafening as the first even though the gore was multiplied, brain matter and sludge smeared across the floor. You both were breathing heavily, hearts pounding as adrenaline broke sweat out across your skin. Touya dropped his bat to the floor with a clank, coming around the counter to you as you set the shotgun to the side. You frantically checked him over, shifting his jacket around to check his arms and his throat. 

"Are you okay? Did it bite you?" You asked.

"I'm fine"

"Are you sure? It didn't scratch-"

"Doll," He said, cutting you off with firm hands against your cheeks, looking you in the eyes, "I'm fine, quit worrying and kiss me". You didn't have to be told twice, the adrenaline sizzling through your bloodstream surging you forward as Touya groaned against your lips, his tongue breaking through the seal to match with yours in fervency. He pressed you back against the counter, caging you in with his hips as you felt him hard through his jeans. You smirked a little against the kiss, Touya pulling back for a moment to nuzzle his nose against your cheek and murmur,

"It's the adrenaline, need to feel you". He moved his hands down to grip your ass and thighs, lifting you up swiftly to set you against the counter. His long fingers quickly undid the buttons to your jeans and tugged them down to your ankles but never all the way off in case the need for a quick escape arises. Touya groaned at the feel of your wetness seeping through your panties, all for him and he was always so greedy. He pressed the fingers damp with your essence against his tongue and the growling whimper that escaped him had your toes curling and breath hitching in your throat; how could he be so perfect and not know it? He wasted no time pulling his hard cock from the confine of his jeans, piercing still proudly shining just like the day you had held his hand to get it even if he denied actually needing the support. The head was flushed a pretty red as it wept a pearly drop that dripped and ran its way down the expanse of his shaft, his own breath catching as you traced the shining line with your thumb and rolled the piercing delicately. 

“No time for teasing,” he chided positioning the head at your entrance and sliding it along your slit, “Wanna fuck you through this rush, clear this place of everything, and hit the road”. 

“T-Touya, fuck!” you exclaimed as he bottomed out in one fluid motion, the feeling of his piercing rub against your walls making your mind numb and pleasure race up your spine, your nails digging into his arms braced on either side of you. He was acting so coy with his lips barely brushing against yours, his pretty smirk shaking you to the core as he pretended to lean in and connect your lips only to pull away at the last second to leave you chasing him until finally, you tugged him by his hair down to your mouth. The bite you gave against his lip only seemed to spur him on, a soft chuckle warming your tongue as he thrust harder into you, your arousal slickening his cock and gathering creamy at the base.

“Pussy so pretty for me feels so fucking good” He moaned, his forehead leaning down to your shoulder so that you were moaning and sighing almost directly into his ear, nails dragging crescents against his pale skin as he fucked you with pure abandon. You could feel your body heating as he nudged that pleasurable spot deep inside, feeling like his cock nearly reached your throat.

“Touya I-I’m-” a deep groan cut you off, your legs beginning to shake.

“Cum for me, be my good girl” He growled, hissing into the flesh of your neck as you tightened around him with a shout, cumming so hard you nearly forced him out. That last convulsion of your walls gripping around him was his undoing, pulling his dick from your soaked walls and splattering his cum across your legs though he hated the waste, his fist shaky as he squeezed the last few drops against your puffy clit and rubbed it around until you were trying to jerk away in overstimulation. You grabbed an old discarded shop rag next to the register and wiped away the mess, Touya helping you pull your underwear and pants back up before lifting you from the counter and setting you on your feet. 

“Let's get these fuckers moved against the door so we can head out the back” He suggested, kicking one of the bodies with a disgusted grimace. 

“I agree, let's grab everything we can too, bet there's an extra bag around here somewhere to pack up”. Touya nodded in agreement, looking around at the stocked shelves. 

“There better still be some jerky and chocolate left”.

[uhohbestie]

There Are Monsters Nearby [Chapter 9]

🏜 Pairing: Grian/Scar

🧟‍♂️ Tags: zombie AU, zombie apocalypse, lovers to exes, slow burn, eventual reconciliation

📖 Summary: The day after Scar breaks up with Grian, the dead come back to life. Knowing that venturing out alone is a death sentence, the sudden onset of the apocalypse forces them to stick together despite the tensions between them. In the wreckage of the world, they're forced to survive side-by-side, coming to terms with the fact that—try as they might—there's still no one they trust more than each other.

Chapter 9 - The duo endeavour to overcome some (literal) obstacles by proceeding cross-country on foot. The view at the summit of their hike is worrisome, and neither of them are prepared for what awaits them on the other side.

📝 Words: 7,381

🔗 Link: Read Chapter 9 on AO3

—

The city stretches out below them, wrapped tight to the base of the mountain and stretching out until it disappears into its own haze. Scar’s seen a city sprawl before, but he’s never seen anything like this. Parts of it are blackened, still smouldering from uncontained fires run amok. Other parts look cratered, homes, buildings, and entire blocks having crumbled back on top of themselves, leaving concrete skeletons standing in their absence. Smoke trickles up towards the sky in thready columns, signs of occupation or encampments, maybe, or just society continuing to collapse in on itself.

It looks like a war zone.

He feels sick.

“This isn’t a small hiccup, is it?” Grian asks as they both stare, his voice flattened and low. “This isn’t just going to blow over in a week.”

“I don’t know.” It’s not a lie, but deep in his gut Scar feels the permanence of their situation making itself clear. An irreparable shift in the way the world works.

They continue staring in silence, just the two of them, alone on the edge of the wreckage of what used to be. Mourning, not for the first time, and not for the last.

“Have you noticed there are no planes?” Grian asks after what feels like hours, though has only been a handful of minutes, at most. “No highway sounds, no industry, no sirens. It’s so quiet.”

It’s true. Their last days have been crushingly devoid of sound, all the usual background clamour of their lives absent. Scar has tried not to dwell on it much.

It scares him.

“We should keep going,” he says instead, even though every one of his limbs protests at the thought. “The hard part’s over, right? All downhill from here.”

“Right,” Grian says, slowly tearing his eyes away from the scene spread before him. “Hard part’s over.”

—

Another Friday another chapter of zombie au! This is the end of the first arc of the fic, which we're really really excited about! But also nervous! But also excited! A world of emotion in our hearts.

You can read the whole story thus-far linked below!

You may not rest now, There Are Monsters Nearby (on ao3!)