#endure and survive – apocalypse au.

[tennesseewynter]

[bloodhxney]

tag drop: alice lee ashford- apocalypse au

[runariya]

🥸🤫☠️ : JK

He wants something 🤫 as down payment before he lets u inside safe haven (a place where survivors go to seek refuge)

(yandere+smut+apocalypse) part of the prompt game pairing: metro inhabitant!Jungkook x survivor!female reader genre: apocalypse!AU, S2L, yandere-ish? warnings: survival after nuclear fallout, dark creatures, denied prostitution for safety, Jungkook is whipped from the start so that should suffice for yandere, foul language, smut, oral (f. receiving), squirting, JK comes in his pants, fluff, lmk if I forgot smth (still hate writing warnings) word count: 3.239 (upsiiii)

a/n: I couldn't rly make JK more yandere without it feeling a bit too dub-con, so I hope that's alright 💕 also it's heavily inspired by the trilogy '2033' by Dmitri Gluchowski (and to my Russian readers: Московское метро выглядит так круто на фотографиях в интернете, надеюсь, однажды смогу его посетить☺️)

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You’ve been wandering for what feels like years, though it could be months, or perhaps just weeks; time’s an abstract notion now, in this world broken to pieces and baked under a nuclear sun. 

With each step you take, the weight of exhaustion and your protective suit presses harder against your bones, but you don’t let it stop you. The world may be a dying beast, choking on its own ash and poison, but you still walk through it, a lone ember that refuses to snuff itself out. The remnants of cities whisper ghost stories to you as you pass, their bones twisted metal and crumbling concrete, charred earth for flesh. The wind sometimes hisses through the ruins, carrying tales of survivors—others like you, fighting, scavenging, enduring—and sometimes it’s silent, as if even the air is holding its breath for fear of what’s out there in the deep silence of the aftermath.

The black creatures—those twisted silhouettes of the apocalypse—roam the earth like shadows unbound from their hosts, moving through the poisoned fog with an unnatural grace that chills your very marrow. They are things of nightmares, remnants of the old world, perhaps, mutated beyond recognition by the fallout or born anew from the hatred that festers in the radioactive soil. 

Their eyes, if they have any, are voids, consuming light and hope in equal measure, and their movements are barely perceptible until it’s too late, until they are upon you, whispering your end in a language only the dead would understand. They hunt relentlessly, not for sustenance, not for survival, but as if driven by some primal force deeper than instinct, a desire not just to kill but to erase, to wipe away the last remnants of humanity like dust from the pages of a forgotten book. 

And you—battered, exhausted, teetering on the edge of oblivion—cannot rest, not here, not ever, because even in your sleep they find you, crawling into your dreams with their inky tendrils, reminding you that peace is a luxury no longer afforded to the living outside of shelter.

Your gas mask, an old friend now, covers your face like a second skin at this point, the filters clogged and heavy with days of dust, radiation, and fumes. You’ve noticed the way it pulls in air with more effort now, as if it’s trying to remember how to breathe. 

You check the filter again. It’s nearly gone, the little red marker ticking closer to empty with every breath you take. You’ll have to find something new soon or you’ll suffocate on the very air that should sustain you.

This isn’t the first time you’ve tried to find shelter. In those early days, the optimism hadn’t yet drained from your veins and the desperation to belong somewhere, anywhere, had clouded your better judgment. 

There had been men—those ones with teeth like wolves, eyes like death, always leering, always demanding. You’ve had to pull your knife more than once to remind them that your body isn’t for sale, that safety shouldn’t cost that much. That death, perhaps, is a kinder alternative to what they would have asked of you. 

You can still hear their laughter sometimes, echoing in your skull—mocking, cruel. You had fled from them, from their dark gazes and cruel hands, from the taste of fear that licked at your throat when their eyes lingered too long on your body. Better the damnation from outside than their promises of protection.

But today… today you find yourself at the mouth of the metro. The entrance yawns wide like a secret, and the shadow of it draws you in, as though it’s reaching out for you. Your steps falter, but only for a moment—just long enough to recognise the hesitation in your chest, the uncertainty gnawing still on your mind. The thought flickers briefly across your consciousness—what if the people down there are like those others? What if all you find is more violence, more degradation, more proof that humanity has shed its last skin and become nothing more than base instincts and brutality?

But the mask is running low, and you can feel that desperation is creeping back into your bones, burrowing deep. You tighten your grip on the strap of your pack, pushing the fear down, burying it beneath a layer of resolve. You’ve come this far; you won’t turn back now.

The entrance is quiet—eerily so, as you push the tall hermetic door open and step inside, closing it quickly after. You glance around, eyes scanning the wreckage for signs of life. There’s nothing at first, just the silent exhalation of wind and the low hum of the distant, underground world. Then, movement.

You hear him before you see him—a soft shuffling of boots against stone, the faint click of a weapon being cocked. You freeze, instinctively tightening your grip on your knife as he steps into view.

Tall. Taller than most of the men you’ve encountered in these forsaken times. Muscles sculpted from necessity, sinew and strength coiled beneath his clothes like a waiting beast. He’s staring at you through the mask, gun raised, the barrel pointing at your chest. For a second, neither of you move. Then his eyes flicker downward, just for a moment, taking you in, assessing, like all the others. You brace yourself for what’s to come.

But it doesn’t come.

“Take it off,” he commands, voice low, barely more than a growl. His weapon doesn’t waver, and his expression is hidden behind a mask, eyes glinting through the cracked visor.

You hesitate. There’s a moment where you think of running, but there’s nowhere to go. There’s only the metro behind him, and the world ahead, both full of uncertainties, both as equally capable of destroying you. You suck in a breath, let it fill your lungs like a final goodbye to the stale air in the mask, and then you reach up to peel it away from your face, your skin sticking to the rubber for a moment before it falls loose.

The air tastes strange on your lips—metallic, sharp, almost alien after all this time behind the mask. You lift your eyes to his, half-expecting some sort of reaction, maybe disgust, maybe lust. But instead… there’s something different there, something you hadn’t anticipated. His gaze softens, though his grip on the weapon remains steady. He stares at you as though you’re something out of place in this hellscape, something fragile, a curiosity more than a threat. His gun lowers, just slightly, but his eyes don’t leave your face, as he too rids himself of his mask. 

He’s younger than you thought. Ink spills across his skin—tattoos that ripple over his arm, dark lines twisting around muscles. You catch a glimpse of two piercings through his lip when he tilts his head slightly, like he’s trying to figure you out, and then his lips curve, ever so slightly, not quite a smile but not quite hostility either.

“Shelter,” you say, your voice rough, the words like stones scraping against the back of your throat. You cough once, clearing the dust away. “I need shelter.”

He eyes you for a moment longer, his gaze wandering down your frame, but it’s not like before—not like the leering stares of the men who sought to take more than they were willing to give. This is different. There’s something almost reverent in the way he looks at you, as though the mere fact that you’re still standing here, after all this, after the end of the world, is enough to stir absolute disbelief in him.

“Alright,” he says, after a pause that seems to stretch out longer than it should. “We’ll see.”

He gestures with his head, motioning for you to follow him into the metro. You hesitate for only a heartbeat before stepping forward. The air inside is cooler, the shadows deeper in the few flickering candle lights, and for a moment, you think you can almost breathe easier.

“Wait here,” he says, nodding towards a bench half-buried in dust. “There’s a process. Need to fill out a form.”

You blink. A form? The absurdity of it almost makes you laugh—almost. But you’re too tired for laughter, too worn down by the world to even consider the possibility of joy. So, instead, you sit with an exhausted plop. You watch as he disappears for a moment, hear the soft scrape of papers being shuffled, and then he’s back, clipboard in hand, a pencil poised like a weapon in his grip.

He doesn��t sit down. Just stands there, towering over you, his presence impressive but not oppressive. You glance up at him, and there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you feel exposed—not in a dangerous way, but in a way that makes you feel seen for the first time in a long time. It’s unsettling.

He clears his throat, eyes flicking to the clipboard. “Name?”

You give it to him. He writes it down, slow and thoughtful.

“Age?”

Again, you’re honest, coughing right after. He writes again, his eyes lifting to your face between each question as if checking to see if you’re lying, or maybe just to remind himself that you’re real.

“Where did you come from?”

You answer, though the place you once called home feels distant, like something from a dream you can’t quite remember. His pen scratches the paper, and you almost lose yourself in the sound of it, that soft, repetitive scrape, the only noise in the otherwise still part of the metro.

“Any medical conditions? Injuries?”

You shake your head, your body numb to the aches and pains that have become part of you, the exhaustion that’s settled into your bones as permanent as the sorrow for the destroyed outside world.

He writes.

The questions continue. And all the while, his eyes keep returning to you, scanning your face as if he’s trying to commit every line, every shadow, to memory. You can feel his gaze lingering on your skin, not in a way that makes you want to shrink or hide, but in a way that makes you want to ask why he’s looking at you like that, why his lips keep twitching into something that almost resembles a smile, sometimes a pout. 

After what feels like an eternity, he finishes writing, his pen stilling against the paper. You think he’s done, that maybe this bizarre interaction will end and you’ll be allowed to rest, to sleep, to breathe for just a moment.

But then he clears his throat again. And this time, when he looks at you, there’s something different in his eyes. Something you can’t quite place.

“There’s one more thing,” he says, and the air between you feels too much like outside, chocking and not fit for you. 

You stiffen. You feel that old familiar dread curling up inside your chest again, clawing at your ribs. You’ve been at this stage before, the formality of it, the false promises of security, of kindness. The moment where it all comes crashing down, where the mask slips and you’re left standing there, alone and defenceless against the greed, the hunger that always lurks just beneath the surface of those too desperate to remember what it means to be human.

He sees the shift in you. You know he does. You see it in the way his brow furrows, the way he toys with his lip piercings as though he’s searching for the right words, something to say that won’t make you bolt for the hermetic door. He takes a breath, and for a moment, you think you might run, you think you might grab your mask and take your chances with the toxic air outside because anything—anything—might be better than this.

But then, he speaks.

“I—” His voice falters, and you see the muscles in his throat work as he swallows. His grip on the clipboard tightens, the knuckles going white. “I want to… I want to eat you out.”

The words hit you like a shockwave. You blink, stunned, and for a moment, you’re not sure you heard him correctly. Did he really just—? 

You stare at him, your mind racing, trying to process the absurdity of it, the strangeness, the unexpectedness.

He’s looking at you now, eyes wide, almost pleading. There’s no threat in his posture, no demand. Just… want. Raw and unfiltered. Like he’s asking for something he shouldn’t even be allowed to ask, but he can’t help himself. His breath is shallow, and you can see the way his hands tremble slightly, the tension in his body like he’s bracing for you to reject him, to walk away.

And maybe you should. Maybe you should get up, leave this place, leave him behind, leave all of this strangeness and vulnerability and run back into the wasteland where at least the dangers are known, where the air is poison but the intentions are clear. But instead, you sit there, frozen in place, your mind spinning, your heart pounding in your chest as you look at him.

He’s not like the others. That much you know.

He’s so painfully handsome, a rare sight in this broken world, and it’s been so long—too long—since you’ve felt the heat of another body, since before the fallout turned everything to pure survival. 

So, when the chance arises, when you catch the hunger in his dark eyes and feel the thrumming ache in your own bones, you seize it like a lifeline in the endless wasteland. Your fingers tremble as you pull the zip of your protective suit down, the rough fabric parting like a sigh, and you free your legs, peeling it off your lower half. You shift on the bench, boots still clinging to your feet as you raise them to rest beside you, and open yourself to him, your legs spread wide, exposing your cunt like a silent offering, need pulsing through your veins.

Jungkook barely hesitates. The clipboard thrown, clattering to the ground behind him, forgotten, his focus now laser-sharp on the sight before him, his eyes flickering wildly between your face and the growing wetness glistening between your thighs. He steps forward with a pull that feels almost sacred, falling heavily to his knees as if the ground beneath him is the only place he belongs. His warm, calloused hands trace their way up your bare legs, the roughness of his skin sparking something primal under your own.

He leans in close, close enough that you can feel his breath ghosting over your slick skin. He takes a deep breath, inhaling you, and the word falls from his lips like a prayer, “Fuck,” and then he’s there, tongue pressing into you with a hunger that’s suffocating, lapping at your cunt as if he’s desperate to prove himself worthy of it, as if he knows exactly how lucky he is to be granted this wish. 

A moan escapes your throat, unbidden, as his tongue forces its way into the tight heat of your hole, your hand reaching instinctively for his dark hair, fingers threading through the strands as you push your hips into his eager mouth. The sound that rumbles from deep within his chest vibrates against you, a groan of raw pleasure that seems to send waves of newfound pleasure coursing through your body, arousal dripping from you, coating his tongue.

“Taste so good,” he rasps between breaths, his voice rough and broken with want. “Fucking angel sent from heaven.” His gaze flicks upward, catching yours, his eyes wide with disbelief, adoration simmering beneath the surface despite the fact that you’re strangers, despite the fact that the world outside has crumbled to nothing.

You find yourself moving against him, riding the flat of his tongue, his fingers dancing over your clit in a rhythm that feels almost divine. His other hand grips your thigh, fingers pressing into your flesh with a kind of desperation, as though he’s terrified that if he lets go, you’ll disappear, that this will vanish like a dream.

“Yes,” you cry out, breathless and shaking, as he finds the perfect pace, the perfect pressure, his mouth and hands working together with an almost agonising precision. And neither of you can tear your eyes away from the other, locked in this frantic, desperate exchange of need and lust and something deeper you can’t yet name.

He gives you everything—every ounce of affection and euphoria you’ve been deprived of for months—and you can feel it in the way his own body trembles, the way his hips move mindlessly against nothing, rutting into the air as though he’s just as desperate to be filled with pleasure as you are.

“I’m close,” you gasp, your hand tightening in his hair, pulling him harder against you, urging him on, desperate for more, for him to push you over that edge.

And he listens, his tongue working with relentless skill, circling your clit with a pressure so precise it almost drives you mad, and then you feel it—your orgasm tearing through you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, shockwaves rippling through your body as you squirt onto his tongue, something you’ve never done before, the surprise of it lost in the haze of pleasure. Jungkook groans beneath you, greedily lapping up everything you give him, cleaning you with his mouth like he never wants to stop, his hips stuttering forward as he spills into his pants, caught in his own silent climax.

“Fuck…” he moans thickly and long, collapsing against your stomach as your legs tremble and fall to the floor, muscles too weak to hold them up any longer.

For a long moment, neither of you moves, the silence between you filled only by the sound of your ragged breathing, the disaster of the world momentarily forgotten. But eventually, he pulls himself together, straightening up with a sheepish grin, adjusting his pants which are now damp with his own release, his expression cringing just slightly.

You quickly dress again, pulling your suit back into place, feeling a flush of heat creeping into your cheeks. There’s an embarrassment there, sure, but not disgust—not even close. If anything, there’s a strange sense of satisfaction, of relief, and you catch yourself hoping this won’t be the last time you see him, that he isn’t bored now that his hunger has been sated.

But as you reach for your pack, Jungkook’s voice breaks through the quiet, and he gestures for you to follow him deeper into the metro, his arm draping casually around your shoulders as if he can’t quite bring himself to stop touching you. “I’m Jungkook, by the way,” he says, a grin spreading across his face, his eyes bright with something that looks almost like joy—something you haven’t seen in anyone since the fallout. “You can stay with me if you want.”

There’s a pause, your heart skipping a beat at his offer, and you hesitate only for a second before whispering, “I’d like to stay with you, if that’s okay.”

He beams down at you, stars shining in his dark eyes like you haven’t seen in months, and he takes the opportunity to press a gentle kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Good,” he says softly. “I’d like that too.”

PART 2

[peachesofteal]

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

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

18+ MDNI / angst, death

It was an accident.

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

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

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

You did not expect a runner.

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

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

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

They had one objective.

Eat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

One being: don't get distracted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The bite.

"We need to make a plan."

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

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

"Alright."

The next morning, everything is different.

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

But they were nowhere to be found.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[bridenore]

HD fic recs - disability (physical) / illness

Here are a few drarry fic recs where either Harry or Draco is suffering from a physical disability or an illness, whether it is permanent or temporary. Listed in alphabetical order, as always.

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl [114k]

Professor Malfoy’s world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

All the Ashes Like Leaves by @firethesound [21k]

Nothing about being the Chosen One had prepared Harry for this. With most of the population blinded and man-eating plants running amok, he can only stay close to his friends as they make their way to safety. Not that he’d call Malfoy a friend, but the end of the world does rather make their ongoing feud seem trivial. And it just figures that it took nothing short of an apocalypse to make Malfoy seem like less of a git.

Balance, Imperfect by @bixgirl1 [91k]

When Harry sustains an injury in the line of work, he no longer knows how to navigate the life he loved, and finds help and solace from the most unexpected source.

Beds, Knobs, and Broomsticks by @fencer-x​ [46k]

A long-term mission to the Baltics that will take him far away from London sounds like the perfect time to cash in the embarrassing ‘Butler in the Buff’ coupon Harry received as a birthday gag gift—until Harry winds up injured in the field and sent home to recover three days into the mission, obliging him to endure one full month of inappropriate attentions from horny housekeeper Draco Malfoy.

Double Edged Sword by @romaine2424  [554k]

Harry thinks his life has been planned out, but the night he comes of age changes everything.  Now there are decisions to be made and a path to be chosen, and the choices before him will change the lives of everyone he knows.  But when destiny calls, Harry finds himself ready to listen. This is an epic story of the love between Harry and Draco.  Join them as they journey through their life together, through the good times and the bad, facing obstacles both external and internal, and see how they come to be who they were meant to be.

fly like paper, high like planes by @harryromper [47k]

Harry Potter, Head Coach of the Appleby Arrows, is very content leading a quiet life. He has a doddery old house-elf who makes his breakfast, a team of players who love Quidditch almost as much as he does, and a Kneazle that curls against his damaged leg at the foot of his bed at night. The absolute last thing he needs is a fit, tattooed, and wildly talented Draco Malfoy back from living his life on the margins. Soon he’s dealing with goblins for the first time since the war, traveling to Prague, eating dodgy squid, and maybe, just maybe, accepting that Quidditch, Malfoy, and even Harry himself are still capable of change.

A Fruit Tree in Winter by bryoneybrynn [29k]

After failing in his task of killing Dumbledore, life doesn’t go as Draco expected. Sometimes just surviving takes everything you’ve got. And sometimes healing is something you can’t do alone. Story goes AU/AR from the end of Half-Blood Prince.

Hades Paradox by @romaine2424 [32k]

For reasons unknown to most, Draco Malfoy came to Hogwarts soon after the battle and for five years had never left its premises. Auror Harry Potter comes to Hogwarts to deal with his psychological daemons, but soon realises Professor Draco Malfoy has his own magical and physical daemons to deal with. However, much to Harry’s surprise, Draco is coping well with help from the person Harry aspires to be.

The Homecoming of Harry Potter by @vaysh11 [5k]

Harry Potter returns to Britain after four years of exile. He is accompanied by his lover and friend, the young man who brought down Voldemort.

I dream of you, to wake by @harryromper [13k]

“Typically coma patients are made comfortable and left to regain consciousness in their own time,“ Draco points out carefully.  “Typically, yes. But when has anything about Harry been typical.” Hermione sighs, rubbing at her eye with the heel of her hand. “The Healer-in-Charge has consulted with experts at all the major wizarding hospitals. They all agree. Whatever’s happening inside of Harry’s head right now is killing him.” Draco Malfoy is a world-renowned dream-walker, and he may be Harry Potter’s only hope.

Kaleidoscope by Saras_Girl [104k]

If Harry’s honest, the last thing he needs is a house full of Draco Malfoy, but partners are partners, and perhaps, the thing he wants the least will turn out to be absolutely everything.

Match Fit by  @ravenclawsquill  [25k]

After picking up a groin injury just two weeks before the Quidditch World Cup Final, star Seeker Harry Potter reluctantly agrees to seek help from world-renowned Magi-Physiotherapist, Draco Malfoy. Cue sexual tension, naked sports massages, inappropriate erections and a healthy dose of acid-green lycra.

Merlin Works in Mysterious Ways by @lordhellebore [82k]

When Harry is forced to form a Blood Bond with Draco Malfoy under threat of death, he thinks his future will consist of a cold home and sexual frustration. But when a group of left-over Death Eaters decides to stir trouble, their lives change completely – and it takes them both some years to figure out whether it’s for better or for worse.

Oh, Sinnerman by @lou-isfake and @babooshkart [40k]

“I’m serious, Potter,” Malfoy said quietly. “That was some real bad luck you had, being there last night. They will come after you, and they will kill you—after torturing you for information on my whereabouts.” He pocketed Harry’s wand, but held on to his knife, twirling it between his fingers. Harry was distracted by its movement, the reflections of the bright, dawning sun on polished silver. “I’m not happy about it, either, but you’re stuck with me for the foreseeable future.”   He watched Malfoy’s face for a long time, in a staring contest he wasn’t sure he’d signed up for. Stuck with Malfoy, for the foreseeable future, on the run from a massive crime syndicate that had infiltrated the Ministry and was out for their blood.  It was all very familiar, except for the Malfoy part.

On One's Knees by pir8fancier [33k]

The war is over and to the victors go the spoils. If you are triggered by infidelity, this is not the fic for you.

Per Solum Lacuna: By Words Alone by Azhure [560k]

A set of enchanted journals bring solace to two very unlikely lost   souls. Whoever said the art of penmanship was lost? This is a wizarding twist on the old fashioned art of correspondence (or the modern art of Internet chatting). What will happen when the mystery writers finally   discover the identity of their counterpart? Join this star crossed pair as they obliviously chat to each other; along the way learning about   life and love. Find out what will happen when their own voyages of self discovery lead them to the most unlikely of places. This is eventual   HP/DM, but other pairings for the protagonists along their journey.

Renaissance by @dysonrules [33k]

Harry awakens after a long sleep to find things terribly changed. He’s not in an alternate universe… it just seems like it.

Turn by Saras_Girl [306k]

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Unkissed Kisses and Songs Never Sung by @femmequixotic [12k]

I sit silently in the shadows, staring at the tiny, pulsing ball of light that tells me my Harry’s still alive.

Vale Sanare by RurouniHime [23k]

Draco’s world gains a new component, just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.

I hope you enjoy these stories as much as I did!

[latibvles]

APOCALYPSE AU? APOCALYPSE AU.

okay guys who asked for mouse hole apocalypse au. nobody? well here it is anyway under the cut because I have lots of thoughts and feelings:

Willie! Willie is with her little brother Otto. I think they lose their parents fairly early on in everything and Willie works hard to keep them both alive. There’s also essentially 0 people she trusts and so she and Otto stick to themselves stick to their guns and try to make it day-by-day

Enter Viv who’s been on her own since this thing started — she and Willie probably meet via “getting each other out of a sticky situation” and then ending up stuck together like glue because of course they do.

I feel like Benny and June have been surviving together since it hit Chicago but didn’t know each other prior. What if we met trying to loot the same corner store xx

Jo has a medic-y role in this verse. No idea how she comes into the mix but I like the idea of her treating people’s bumps and bruises (bite angst, anybody?)

Harrie starts off pretty okay until a hoard tears up the family farm. In the most non-gimmicky way possible, she carries one of her baby chicks around for quite some time because she loses her family. She can save this, preserve it, etc.

I think Lorraine and Lena might be attached together. Maybe Lorraine’s siblings too (Otto needs friends his own age guys). Lena’s got a car that gets them far enough out of the city

On that note Carrie being with a different group, but getting picked up by Benny and June? That’s a look. (It was Benny’s idea, he’s got a big heart and she’s a kid)

I haven’t quite decided where Fern comes into the mix either. But we all know she’s smarter than she looks. She might be in the viv boat of “lone survivor until she isn’t” but per her personality — a lot more charismatic about it

Inez and Macon meet first in this, and they pick up Alex a little later while they’re heading up North. They definitely save his life and he’s their emotional support Arts person as Cari so brilliantly put it

SOME EXTRA STUFF I’M SO NORMAL ABOUT:

Benny has his beard in this one, guys. He grows it during a winter and June makes fun of him for it because she’s a terror

Bucky also has the POW camp curls

Okay so maybe half this AU is just getting them as dirty as possible but it’s not my fault they look good when enduring horrors

Buck/Bucky/Marge/Brady is a survival group. The Three Bs all met in college. Brady is Marge’s favorite that isn’t Buck

Eventually all these little groups come together in one way or another. The Three Bs + Marge meet Viv Willie and Otto in a warehouse on an abandoned airstrip and that’s where they decide to settle

^^ If you need visual inspo, Prescott from The Walking Dead: The New Frontier

I'm playing with somebody in this gaggle of not-flyboys & flygirls getting bit... for yanno.... fun and fresh reasons (maybe Bubbles)

Can we tell I haven't thought about how all the guys get there eventually? Sue me.

I do think this AU needs more Harding

[decimal86]

New AU concept: Felltopia.

The idea is simple: The Failfleet Miis lost the fight against the Darkest Lord in the finale, leading to a darker story for The Incident and the overall storyline. Now, the fate of the universe lays in the hands of an even more dysfunctional group of adventurers brought together by demon looking to take back the power that was his.

Orion - a haunted suit of armor grown over by vines and weathered from the elements. Once donned by a member of the Greenhorne guard, only his daughter knows of its true nature. After eventually finding peace, flowers bloomed through the cracks in its helmet. A being of few words, but protective until the end.

Friend - a fallen angel whose voice was sealed away by a malicious force, twisting their power to for its own use and silencing it with a permanent smile of false serenity. But the forces of righteousness may still be able to have their victory...

Shrimp - a young siren deemed as a monstrosity by the citizens of a coastal village and a failure by her species—specifically, for having a scream capable of shattering glass. After being cast out by both humans and merfolk alike, she's been on the run, resorting to scavenging and vowing never to sing her melodies again.

Erica - a now-disgraced undead cleric who shed her robes after being unable to save her kingdom. A living corpse contained in the armor of a fallen knight, both her mind and body alike gave up on the idea of healing. The wounds of the past only remind her of what could have gone right, leaving her bitter and untrusting of any potential allies.

Chi - an alchemist gone mad from the loss of her partner in crime, she torched almost anything in her path in honor of her old companion. Impulsive and manic, but a trace of stifled innocence and longing for a new start are still left through the ashes.

Failboat - a once-optimistic and confident team captain, he left the world after losing a battle against the gods ages ago. Now elusively hiding away in the sand dunes of Neksdor, he survives only by the power of a broken artifact... which was crudely shoved into the paws of a lynx costume. While a part of him stays desperate to atone for his mistakes, it's drowned out by the memories of those he led astray.

Bo - hailing from an aristocratic family that's fallen on hard times, she's the sole undead among a small army of ghostly servants. Starved for love and nutrients alike, plus on the verge of a breakdown nearly every waking moment. Given a vampiric curse for not surrendering to the Dark Lord, the rest of her family disappeared from the public shortly after. Why? Only Bo knows, and she's not willing to talk about it.

Chat - an amalgamation of discarded facial features considered too unruly to bring life into any monsters. Now inhabiting an obsolete piece of battle machinery, the animalistic cries from victims of every corner of the globe can just barely be heard over each other. The only company they've had is themselves.

Big Bill - a witch doctor for an endangered avian race, he made a vow to aid anyone working to stop the new apocalypse in hopes of finding the resources to heal his people. The rise of the New Dark Lord unleashed a plethora of dangerous plagues, but he's endured plenty already.

Mar - the stoic, yet unhinged head of the rebellion against the new Dark Lord... and also the one one responsible for powering the one before it. Taking on the appearance of a middle-aged Italian chef, to him, destruction is merely a necessary ingredient in his recipe for vengeance. He'll get his title back through any means possible... but does that include showing kindness to his former enemies?

@rosetheocto helped with a lot of development for this AU, so big shout-out to her! I dunno what I'll do with this, but I can feel there's definitely potential. If anyone wants to make art for it, feel free to do so!

[your--isgayrights]

You have written at least 1 No Scenarios AU before, so what do you think would happen to ORV KDJ if the scenarios never happened? In your wall fic, KDJ gets a stable job and a still ongoing story about YJH but at around the same time in the novel KDJ is about to be unemployed while WOS is coming to a close. Do you think ORV KDJ would be able to find another job (maybe like in your wall fic) or stay in contact with YSA or be fine without WOS? I’ve seen others say that KDJ might contemplate suicide again, or that he would never come to terms with his mom and his past in a No-Scenario event. What are your thoughts on the possible differences between this KDJ and your wall fic’s KDJ?

Hmm that's a good question... I think most important to whether or not Kim Dokja contemplates suicide again is whether or not WoS ends in the same way it does in cannon and how he reacts to it without the scenarios. My feeling is that when Kim Dokja survives his first attempt, he goes online and searches something to the effect of 'How to survive in a ruined world' and stumbles across a page publishing WoS, and he follows it for all these years because he is still looking for an answer to that question. I think a lot of people can relate to that drive for media consumption that is like... 'please, I just want to feel different after this, I want this to mean something.' WoS is a story about what happens to a man forced to survive the apocalypse over 1800 times and this is analagous to KDJ who endures the sisyphusian burden of being a regular guy with no friends every goddamn day lol. KDJ has been waiting for WoS to tell him what it has all been for. An important part of WoS's construction is that HSY knew KDJ's future while writing it. In this way, WoS was like a promise to KDJ, 'please just keep living, we're coming soon, the people who love you will appear, please just wait for them a little longer..'

In a world where this future doesn't come to pass, the original ending of WoS would lose a lot of this meaning. we get a bit of a preview of this reality in the sort of... Oh... That's it? Moment KDJ has after reading 'the end' at the start of ORV and then there's his messages with the author. So with this as the starting point I will say I find it likely KDJ could work himself up to another attempt just based on the ending of 'surviving 1863 times was for nothing because reality is limited and there are no true heroes' bc his internal just like YJH moments would end up depressing like 'doing all this work for nothing in the end...' but like you say there's more fun options if you get our ORV ladies involved. For instance, I could see KDJ disbelieving the ending or wanting a better conclusion for YJH and messaging the author about such things. Imagine that as One True Author HSY is fading, 26(?) Yo HSY wakes up to see she has a weird alternate account she's typing on? What? And looking at her computer history she realizes she sleep wrote this novel? Wow her genius knows no bounds...

I think for an author like HSY, having a single dedicated reader to converse with who takes the story to be as important as it is in your head is a really big thing, and her popular web novels never have anything like that. So when she has this account that's this one way channel with KDJ she's like oh haha fuck this guy what a loser he likes this webnovel that doesn't even have a good ending like mine did... I could write so much better of an ending awake than I did asleep... So she starts writing extras at KDJ's behest. Except her style is totally different and very fanservicey, except she doesn't understand the fan she's serving very well yet?

On KDJ's end I think maybe YSA takes concern after he reveals he doesn't have a position lined up after his contract ends and starts sending him any and all opportunities she sees around. At first he awkwardly thanks her and doesn't pursue them right away, but while WoS is ongoing again in this weird new direction, he starts applying around. He either gets another office job or honestly I could see him working at a convenience store or something (maybe he has a system where if there's a fly in the store a certain bug net carrying kid can catch it for candy rewards...).

While HSY is writing WoS extras, KDJ is constantly complaining and it eventually shakes down to a long one on one conversation between the two of them about why WoS and it's ending matters so much to KDJ. He wants a happy ending that he can Believe, not just a 'happy ending' standard formula, because those exist for a different Type of person than YJH (KDJ) is. So HSY doggedly works at writing and revising it until KDJ could possibly be satisfied... But maybe comes to the conclusion that there's no way WoS could end and satisfy KDJ so they decide to write a sequel that only HSY snidely sees as a KDJ self insert fanfiction of the original work so HSY is writing RPF of random guy who read her sleep-wrote novel ending up in her sleep-wrote novel and that's ORV. I like to think that somehow ORV would become popular even though WoS itself would remain in obscurity like people would think it was made up just as the premise for ORV and not look for the actual novel lol. Then I think HSY and KDJ could be very Established online friends and maybe even meet up in person to talk shit. As for his mom, she'd get out of prison but I don't think she and KDJ would meet up again unless maybe HSY coached him or his mom reached out first. I have some more specific ideas about how it's going to go in Wall fic I wanna keep close to the belt for now.

But yeah without WoS or any of the IRLs' intervention, KDJ's story is def one of that passive suicidality that comes from not even being able to imagine a future worth surviving for. Without a driving motivation to keep living, KDJ becomes unemployed, food becomes scarce, he might drift through some systems for a bit before reaching the end. I don't know if he'd still take action himself, but he'd definitely be another person just sitting around waiting to die. Of course, even for such a person there are avenues to keep living. Like I said, low level job at a convenience store or something could be pretty okay. It's a close knit team with a small group of customers and he doesn't have to care too much about the job to get it done. He could do little niceties for people like he likes to do and just have it taken as good customer service. But he would still definitely be Waiting for whatever next thing would come along, be it a new novel or like a robber coming to kill him lol. I could imagine him getting held up and being like... Do it. Take the shot. I'm a 30 yo working at a convenience store do you think I have something to live for. And maybe he'd get promoted to manager.

[aziraphales-library]

hello lovelies! thank you for running this wonderful blog!

would you happen to have more "aziraphale is mean to/rejects crowley" fics? i've gone through all the ones in your masterpost. :)

(also, there is a disproportionate amount of "crowley is mean to/rejects aziraphale" fics and i have ocd)

thank you very much!! <3

Hi! You might be interest in some of the fics on our #arguing tag, so check those out. Here are more fics where Aziraphale rejects Crowley...

Bad Demon by CloudySonder (NR)

(set after the Apocalet’snot) Crowley, in a fit of drunkenness, confesses his feelings for Aziraphale. It doesn’t go down very well. In fact, it goes about as badly as it could’ve gone, and before Aziraphale could even try to process his (already given) response, Crowley is gone; vanished into thin air.

So, in a very Aziraphale-like manner, Aziraphale does nothing for a while, taking it all in.

And then he panics.

Ever Thought of Having Sex? by ANTHONYCOWWLEY (E)

Crowley hadn't exactly planned on going there, but he was so sloshed that it just sort of happened. He'd been curious, for centuries -- and the alcohol made the question seem like less of a thing than usual.....

Via Crucis by Nadzieja (E)

Crowley has been rejected by Aziraphale, the only person he's ever loved. Again. But he can't really blame his angel for not breaking his clerical vows. He knows how difficult it is to leave the Catholic church and priesthood behind. He's done it himself. Now he's just trying to survive.

[A Priest AU, with a lot of angst and a happy ending.]

Definitions of Love by organizechaos (T)

Aziraphale thinks that all the abuse and trauma he endured in heaven is ‘love’. After being freed after the apocalypse, the angel is beyond happy. He wants nothing more than to spend eternity with Crowley but the demon is ready to put a name to their feelings. They both know that they care for each other deeply and when Crowley finally has the courage to put it in words (‘I love you’), it sends Aziraphale spiraling into believing Crowley will start treating him like heaven did.

"We- we don't have to pretend anymore.” Crowley stuttered out, golden eyes looking frantically about the angel. His sunglasses were clutched tightly in the palm of his hand, “The apocalypse is over, it has been for years. Can't we- can't we say it now?" his voice wavered only slightly.

"I don't love you, Crowley." Aziraphale emphasized each word to better help the demon understand. He had never truly loved something in all his years of existence, he didn’t think he was capable. To love another being — especially Crowley...

"I could never love you."

Crowley and His Army of Grandmothers by burnt_oranges (NR)

Crowley had impulsively stopped by Artisan Du Chocolate, the next place on Aziraphale’s meticulously ordered list of chocolatiers to sample, and now Crowley wonders--is it too much? He had bought a hundred fucking pounds’ worth of chocolate, of course it’s too much, but would Aziraphale notice that it was too much?

That is the question.

Warmth by indigo (E)

Friends with benefits really had to be the very best solution there was for any self-respecting immortal being on Earth. Handy. Convenient. The perfect way to de-stress with none of the hassle of trying to find a human willing to overlook the more demonic parts of appearance. It was reliable. Comforting even. Dependable, emotionless relief.

Perfect, Crowley thought.

Right up until the point when, well, it wasn’t.

- Mod D

[idontknowmyownmind]

OG!Cale and OG!KRS AU

Note: I read a fanfiction some time ago about baby Roksoo dimension hopping into TBOAH and founded by Cale who's in his early rebelious stage and got this idea. I miss writing about my babies, I don't have any ideas so I'm happy I got one lol

So, rather than KRS, it's Cale who is dimension hopping.

The different is, it's only his soul who got transfered and inhabitate a body that already born and exist in that world.

The concept is similar to Lookism, one body will unconcious when the other awake.

The first occurance was when he was 8, few months after his mother's death.

He thought it was a dream, a realistic one but still a dream, so he doesn't really felt scared with the modern world.

But as it keep happening and it's as if the event that already happened influence the next 'dream', he started to doubt that it is a dream.

Cale is a smart and adaptable kid by nature so it's not that long for him to adapt, even with much struggle, it helps when there is no language barrier because somehow when he is in his second body he understand Korean.

It happens randomly, sometimes Cale will transfered when he just want a nap but not when he sleep.

The time difference between the two world is one day on earth equal one hour on his original world.

He figure out how the hopping works when he was 13, so now he can hopping as he please.

Cale feels his hands full since he was 10 because he has three dongsaeng to take care.

Yes, he met Roksoo when he was 10 and Roksoo was 6.

(In this type of AU, where Cale and Roksoo in their original body, I prefer older Cale because I want Roksoo to have at least 1 older and loving person in his childhood days)

It was accidental, when he found a little kid getting beaten by an adult and he saw red.

Good thing is, even though Cale's second body seems being negleted by his parents (the irony), they still take care of his living.

So Cale kinda kidnapped Roksoo to life with him and force-adopt him as his brother (lol)

His uncle can't touch Roksoo because Cale make sure to utilize his family to keep him away.

Because of Roksoo's curse, Cale life in his second body always on the verge of death.

But he is stubborn and loves fiercely, so he stay, he always stay.

This kinda make Roksoo codependent on him in huge amount.

The methods he use to treats his siblings are different because he still have to maintain his trash persona while in Korea he can be himself.

He loves the three equally but he only openly show it to Roksoo.

Cale might drop his study in his first body, but he absorb all knowledge he can get a hand on in his second body.

When he lose almost everything because of war in his original world (in this AU I will safe Lily), he doesn't visit his second home for a long while.

Which mean his second body is in a 'comma' and it was happened at the started of apocalypse.

Imagine how wear down he is because no matter which body he used, he still have to fight to protect and survive without stop.

Until come a day when he decided to choose which world he want to stay.

It's not a difficult choice for him when he choose his original world.

It's not because he loves Lily more but it's because he know Roksoo will be safe even without him.

There are people who will do anything for him, so he rest assured.

While in his original world, Lily only have him so he can't leave her alone.

She already suffers and lose everything in a really young age, he doesn't one her to felt it again.

So he stage his death to look natural, because of the monster.

(Oh, Roksoo know about Cale origin when he was 15 and along the way, CJS and LSH also found out. So there are three people who know his secret.)

In his last breath in his first body, when he is 40, GoD over him a deal but Cale refuse.

He refuse to object his brother to another mysery after the unfortune he has to endure his entire life.

Even if he is tempted to meet his mother again, but he learn to let go long time ago.

Beside, her soul might be her mother's but she is not her.

And even if it's a chance to safe his original family and meet them again, he feels like it's doesn't have a meaning if he can stay with them.

Call him selfisg but only want to be with everyone.

As a countermeasure, GoD decided to let them react.

Consisting before and during the war and apocalypse, and apocalypse after his death.

So there are three different worldline people.

The before war and apocalypse is when Cale hasn't tell Roksoo about his secret and they haven't meet CJS and LSH.

The third worldline is when after Cale's death in his second body.

[tennesseewynter]

[oddlyunaware]

"Where Art Thou?" A LMK Apocalypse AU.

So a few weeks ago, I had the grand idea of making a Fallout/Mad Max-themed AU for Monkie Kid. I don't know why I had this idea, I just did.

After developing it for a while with a friend via RP, I think I have a pretty good idea of how I want it to work. Read the main explanation for the AU below!

How Did The World End?

In the year 2085, World War III had begun.

Nobody exactly remembers how it happened, only that tensions rose and the countries, armed with nuclear weapons from the Cold War, started depleting their stocks by using them on each other.

Many cities and countries were hit, but by this point nuclear defenses had been created- and the damage wasn't as bad as it would have been, say, 60 years ago. People survived, and moved on with the war.

The lack of proper fear and high ground prompted many countries to violate the BWC and create biological weapons to wear down the populations of other countries. "Gene bombs" were created, and dropped on major cities. People fled in fear, spreading the contamination and ultimately dooming the fighting forces of each country. Sadly, humanity itself was also doomed because of this.

Super-soldiers and "tube babies" became common, all created in an effort to turn the tides of the war. The most prominent of these programs was Project NUWA, a super-soldier project that tried to force evolution onto human embryos, and Project LOTUS, which attempted to splice human DNA with that of plant genes and create stronger soldiers.

In a last ditch attempt between America, Russia, and China, they fired three thermonuclear warheads at once, which hit and created a massive explosion- the force and heat of which speeding up the melting of the ice caps and casting most of the world in water. Tsunamis and earthquakes destroyed what was left, and people's DNA was so fucked by the prior gene bombs that humanity had practically gone extinct.

In the year 2100, the old world was gone. A new world, the Wastes of Aurala, began to prosper terribly.

So... What Happened After That?

The gene bombs coupled with the leftover radiation from the thermonuclear warheads left the remnants of humanity... fairly dead. Instead of regular old humans, three new variants emerged:

Demons, Dirt-bloods, and Beasts.

Dirt-bloods were humans who just looked... wrong. Eyes too small, mouths curled up just a bit much, fingers elongated and legs backwards. The uncanny valley was strong with these folks, and they gained the name "dirty blooded" in reference to their irradiated genes.

Demons, on the other hand, were humans whose genomes had copied and mutated to resemble that of animals. They typically had beastly features, and were very clearly inhuman. The type of animal they were depended on the person and the area they grew up in.

(Humans miraculously saved from the genome-scratching were referred to as "pure-bloods", due to their genes being unfiltered with radiation or animal DNA. They were unique, regular humans, different in all the perfect ways they needed to be.)

And then there were Beasts. Beasts were people changed too much, losing themselves and turning into feral monsters. It's recommended that you leave these creatures alone- and if you do see one, put it out of its misery. God knows how long they've had to endure hell.

How Did Society Change?

Society changed greatly- television was a commodity for the dreamers, food was dried and served with little fanfare, and clean water was a precious resource only the hardest workers could find and drink.

Most groups devolved into nomadic tribes, full of those who had a fickle reason to survive, and they typically put trust and "pack mentality" first, reasoning that they survived better if together. Survival became the common instinct of everyone on the world's surface, and the idea of procreation was adamant. Marriage was a forgotten concept, people instead "mating" to preserve their remnant generations.

The animal genes also led to a lot of animalistic contest between finding mates. Many, both men and women and non-binary alike, battled for the affections of another.

(Sexuality and gender remained a fluid thing. Same-sex couples weren't uncommon, and asking for one's pronouns had become a form of greeting in this day and age.)

Children were a protected people. Every mating couple was expected to either bear or raise children, in hopes that the remnants of humanity could continue on. For those that were rendered infertile, they typically parented and doted on others in the form of surrogate families, often growing in size and becoming clans.

The idea of continuing what little was left was important. Even the sickest of the sick deserved to survive, if only to carry on the future for a little while.

Wait, What Happened To The Remaining "Pureblood" Humans?

Well, one day, a bunker full of pure humans was discovered, somehow saved from the bombing and radiation. They had been monks, who agreed to meditate in an underground monastery in defiance of being recruited as soldiers. Upon emerging in a distasteful world, many were quickly killed by raiders and cannibals, jealous that they survived the horrors of the war with little conflict.

One monk was rescued, and word got out that he could be used to save humanity- to fix everyone's genes and turn the world back the way it was. The only issue is that the lab with the required material to conduct such an experiment was in what was left of India, and the bunker they had been discovered in was far up by Northern China. The monk, named Sanzang, was ill equipped to handle a journey there.

So, he found some help in the form of an ex-Project NUWA soldier, codenamed "Wukong".

So What Now?

Well, I'll cover where Monkie Kid's cast fits into this in a later post! for now, feel free to read over this one and make your own ideas and theories! Thanks so much for reading this far!

Detailing the Cast in "Where Art Thou"

[orbillusion]

Then I pull a power move called "Alternate Take"

SCU x Qsmp AU crossover thing where Charlie eats the apple Schlatt proposes to him. Skip to the end, after he killed Tommy.

Charlie turns around and that same stupid fucking shop is there. But this time there are no drugs, no firearms. There's just Schlatt, Charlie, and the counter sitting between them.

Schlatt smiles and backs up as the hoard runs to obliterate Charlie and Schlatt proposes two items. A backpack with everything Charlie could ever need to survive alone in this alternate world where it all started. Or a golden apple; his ticket out of here.

Because every other time Charlie or someone ate an apple given by God (Schlatt), they were all sent somewhere else. They were released from the hell they were enduring. But only to face another hell.

Last time Charlie tried that, he was sent to a world that he thought was alright but ended up being plagued by a zombie apocalypse.

So, Charlie took the apple. As fun as dying and ending this all would be he didn't want to leave his friends here to suffer.

Little did Charlie know, he'd be doing that anyway. They weren't in the same world as each other anymore. So they were out of the equation.

Charlie wakes up on the train. Clean, put together, looks like a stable human being.

Except there's two things here.

He is not a human, he is a slime

He still remembers it all. He remembers his friends, he remembers Tommy, he remembers watching Condi fucking die. He remembers taking that apple from Schlatt.

[springfallendeer]

Vampire AU - Lore

I went ahead and wrote up all of the lore I could think of for my Vampire AU. Just a fair warning, its a LONG read. 6k+ words. Under a read more because duh.

There is technically some NSFW content in this as it describes a few things like Vampire genitals, murder, miscarriage, and sexual things in some amount.

VAMPIRE AU

Background: This is a world in which Gods exist. Born alongside the very fabric of reality, these entities were tasks with the unfathomable burdens of maintaining the balance of everything. Every concept or tangible aspect of life can be tied back to the work of some form of God. Some of them docile. Some of them hostile. Some of them well known and established. Others known only in theory due to their reclusive nature. They are timeless by human comparison. Insanely powerful and incredibly important. Their very existence requires in order to assure the survival of reality as it is known.

They are immortal, but they are not deathless. They are powerful, but not without means of being defeated. Their status capable of being stripped away from them and granted to others, either willingly or through the use of force.

The origin of the Celestial brothers stems from the destruction of a God and the subsequent need to replace it.

The previous God of the Cosmos was a great and powerful entity, but it was a wrathful and violent one. It would go from world to world, bringing with it all manner of chaos and destruction. The purpose of this Deity was to maintain the countless untold balances of space and time. The rise and fall of life on every inhabitable planet, the creation of new planets, the destruction of old planets, the births and the deaths of stars, and so much more were all under its direction, but not under its absolute control. The old God was meant to act as a powerful guide that would dictate the flow of calm and chaos through all of space and time.

Whether this job eventually drove it mad or not, the entity was as malicious as it was powerful. When it arrived at Earth, it may as well have brought with it an extinction event. Its massive frame towered over even the tallest of trees and its body a construct not easily comprehended by the inhabitants of the world.

Balls of molten rock rained from the sky. The sky burned red as the Deity willed the protective ozone layer of the world to be eaten away. The lava beneath the crust of the Earth bubbled and boiled with enthusiasm. The arrival of the Cosmic God brought with it the promise of annihilation. Not just for humanity, but for all of life on Earth as it was known.

The desperation for survival brought with it a dire need to eliminate the threat. Genuinely, it is not known how any one man succeeded at striking down the malicious Deity. Be it a stroke of luck or sheer unwillingness to die despite any horrific injuries endured, it does not matter. All that matters is the fact that that God fell.

The Cosmic God was slaughtered. Brutally murdered by one desperate man in hopes of bringing salvation to his people. But in his desperate desire to save, he unwittingly brought the promise of greater destruction. With no God to rule the Cosmos, the apocalypse of all life would prove inevitable. When the destruction did not immediately stop but instead grew worse from the aimless chaos of a reality without guidance, a new act of desperation was taken.

That lone man took up the burden of the Cosmic God. He hastily consumed of its flesh and blood, devouring its power. While the corpse proved more than any mortal body could stomach, he still succeeded in taking what needed to be attained. He shouldered the burden of a God and all of the horrors that came with it, but was further cursed by the spite of the dead Deity to punish him for his actions.

His humanity was stripped from him. His body warped and changed into something corrupted by the basis of the power that he had stolen. To condemn him for his actions; selfish in the eyes of the executed God; he was made to bear a curse that would end only with his own destruction. The humans which he sought to protect were doomed to become his source of sustenance. Cursed to forever crave the blood and flesh of humanity as retribution for having dared to consume the blood and flesh of a God.

In his madness, he shared his curse with two others. Two brothers, by blood or by virtue, forced to also partake cursed of blood and flesh. Made into Celestial Deities doomed to crave the blood and flesh of humanity. Gods made Vampire out of spite as life faded from the corpse of the fallen Deity.

There followed centuries of horror as this trio of freshly created Deities struggled to satiate their horrible desires. Countless human lives were lost. How humanity evaded extinction is unknown. These new Gods established themselves as something just as vile and evil as the Deity that had been destroyed in order to create them. This was damage to their reputations that could never be genuinely undone without isolation and the passage of time.

When the madness faded, the trio of Deities retreated. Bearing equal parts the burden of the Cosmos, the three secluded themselves far beyond the reach of human settlement. To hide from the shame of the horrific things that they had done. To wait for the passage of time to ideally erase them from history. Only ever leaving to tend to deal to the other problems born of the destruction of the old God.

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Celestial Vampires: A trio of Deities created to replace the previous Cosmic God. These Deities share the unfathomable burden of overseeing the balance of the Cosmos, each bearing an equal portion of the crippling weight of the responsibility.

These Deities bear the curse of Vampirism as punishment for the slaughter of the previous God. This curse instills into them a desire to consume mortal flesh and drink human blood. As they were once human, the blood and flesh they crave the most is human. The true purpose of the curse is to make them suffer for choices that were made. A God was killed and devoured by people, for the sake of protecting people. There is no punishment more fitting than a punishment that would make the new Deities harm the very same creatures that they sought to protect. Such was the curse created from the seething rage of the previous Cosmic God as it fell before the hands of humanity.

Though they cannot die if they fail to do so, the Deities will become afflicted by a horrible madness that will drive them to satisfy these cravings. In these fits of madness, they will haphazardly mutilate, kill, and even torture the people that wind up being used to satisfy themselves. They will become as cruel and unfeeling as the very being that was destroyed in order to create them. Previous failures to properly satiate their cravings has resulted in multiple incidents of humans being callously slaughtered, which further adds to the guilt of the Deities.

These new Cosmic Gods are heavily feared and despised. They are worshiped only because that is what humans are expected to do. They are given offerings not out of respect, but out of fear. The Deities in turn go out of their way to maintain distance from humanity. They have taken residence in an isolated space that is not easy to access, to discourage visitors. There they remain. Immortal and isolated. Venturing out only to tend to duties pertaining to governing their subjects or satisfying their accursed cravings.

Like the lesser Vampires born as a side effect of the previous God’s death, their bodies have been warped and twisted by untold forces. Their human appearances are all but gone, replaced is traits that make them better resemble entities of the Cosmos. Their skin is bitter cold while their insides burn with the heat of stars. Their blood glows. Their eyes mirror the celestial bodies which orbit the Earth. However, this change in appearance is not believed to be an additional side effect of the Vampiric Curse, but a side effect of having absorbed the powers of a Cosmic God.

Strangely, many of their sexual or biological defining traits have changed. They lack nipples. Their genitals have been tucked away inside of an orifice that could be compared to a mock cloaca. This gives them a seemingly doll like appearance when stripped of clothing, further stripping them of their previous human forms.

Additionally, their genitals have taken on an appearance quite different from humans. No longer a basic human penis, but a long phallus that would better resemble the arm of an octopus, minus the suction cups. This peculiar phallus is even prehensile, and can be freely moved about. The lack any sort of noticeable testicles, inside or out. If there is an explanation behind these bizarre changes, then the Deities have not provided it. Namely because such details are rather private.

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Vampires: Creatures cursed to crave the blood and flesh of mortals, most specifically humans. They have their origins in humanity, but have been stripped of many basic human traits. The Cosmic Gods are the original bearers of this curse, but it has spread to afflict those uninvolved in the murder of the former God.

Vampires are most well known for their frozen skin and burning insides, as well as their cravings for human flesh and blood. Most satisfy these urges on blood alone, with the initial bite into the flesh satisfying the urge to consume it. What is lesser known are the varied traits found among the Vampires.

Vampires have branched out into three distinct factions as a result of their diverse traits. These three distinct branches each specifically follow the leadership of one of the three Celestial Deities. Eclipse, Sun, and Moon. Those who fall into a specific faction will generally best resemble the Deity associated with that faction. The curse expresses itself differently throughout humanity, just as it has expressed itself differently among the Gods.

In terms of reproduction, Vampires do have struggles. The basis of their curse means that the addition of an extra life growing in a female body leads to increase in thirst for blood. Complications are less common in Vampire x Vampire pairings and grow more severe in the event of Vampire x Human pairings. The exact reason behind hybrid partnerships resulting in so many issues has yet to be discovered and is chalked up to some additional byproduct of the curse.

Strangely, Vampirism cannot effect non-human animals. Animals which might have been afflicted by the curse are instead driven to cannibalism, but suffer no additional effects such as immortality or heightened strength.

The Vampires of these world are not deterred by sunlight and cannot be poisoned through use of Garlic or Silver. Christianity does not exist in this world (Yahweh

/Jehovah is not an entity that exists, or if he does, it’s definitely not in the same way as in our world), but there are other religions that focus on other Gods. Association with some of these religions does bring with it some level of protection against Vampires.

Even the weaknesses most commonly associated with Vampires are not entirely guaranteed. The three distinct factions of Vampires each have unique traits that grant them different levels of weakness. Some Vampires are weak to Flame. Some are weak to Ice. Others cannot be harmed by either. To puncture the heart with wood, steel, or stone is unlikely to be lethal and all manner of physical injury can heal if the injury is not immediately fatal. The one surefire way to kill a Vampire is to remove its head. Puncturing the heart with a weapon made of human bone can also prove lethal, but is not guaranteed. Either option proves difficult, as their frozen skin does not cut as easily as human flesh and their bones are not easy to crack.

---------------------------------------------------------------------- Originals) The first generation of Vampires, cursed directly by the previous God. These Vampires acquired their curse by consuming water polluted by the blood of that God, and by consuming produce grown on land polluted by its rotting flesh, or by consuming animals that were fed that produce. These Vampires most strongly resemble the Trio of Cosmic Deities, and have near identical anatomy as a result. The only difference being that their height will rarely exceed 7 feet, and their blood does not glow. Still, their flesh is frozen and their blood will burn anyone it touches.

The males lack nipples and have their genitals tucked away in the false cloaca, with the same tentacle like phallus that the Deities bear. Females have retained their nipples for the sake of providing for their young. Additionally, their vaginal areas no longer have the external defining features. All of these features have been moved to the interior of their genital cloaca.

The Original Vampires (Also referred to as True Vampires) are the only among the Vampire species to be able to create Thralls, as the curse is strongest with them.

As the lands polluted by the old God are still able to afflict humans with the curse, new Originals are still born from time to time. Often on purpose to assure a specific number of True Vampires exist. These lands are sealed off to prevent humans from being able to access them, hence it being near impossible for a human to accidentally become an Original Vampire by consuming of the cursed ground.

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Dull Bloods) The offspring of Vampires who bear a slightly weaker version of the curse. These are descendants of True Vampires that have not had any human blood mixed in. They are an important distinction only because of their ability to look slightly more human. A distinction that was only made due to growing confusion of humans that might interact with them in an intimate manner. Questions are inevitably asks when Vampires have such a wide range of biological appearance.

In terms of power and ability, they are identical to True Vampires. Their skin is frozen and their blood hot. They visually resemble the Celestial Deities, except for where the most bizarre changes are concerned. That meaning that as generations pass, Dull Bloods begin to look more biologically human. As descendants have had descendants and have had descendants, the changes have gradually appeared. To the point that now, some Dull Bloods have genitals that almost perfectly match the genitals on humans.

All manner of genital appearance in between have come to exist. From everything tucked neatly away inside of a cloaca, to a peculiar halfway point, to everything exposed and vulnerable. These Vampires are still 100% Vampire with no human blood mixed in genetically to dilute or change the curse, but for some reason the defining genital changes are just less exaggerated.

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Mixed Bloods) Hybrid offspring of humans and Vampires. Mixed Bloods are very rare. Not as a result of an unwillingness to breed, but as a result of the curse not properly cooperating when it comes to creating offspring.

Pregnancies where hybrid offspring are concerned are dangerous and difficult.

If the mother is human, it is incredibly likely that she will die without being able to carry the fetus to term. Her human flesh and blood will be consumed by her own body in order to satiate the cravings of the curse. A human woman who is not given thorough and care while pregnant with a Vampire’s child will waste away to nothing and die. One who is given consistent care is still highly likely to suffer near crippling health risks. Even with this high level of care, it is still incredibly likely that that the fetus will expire before it has grown enough to be reasonably born. This in turn leads to additional complications from the miscarriage, which might render the mother sterile.

If the mother is a Vampire, then the pregnancy will be easier, but the odds of success as still low. A Vampire mother is better suited to satisfy the cravings of the curse by consuming human blood, but her cravings will be more intense and she will be at risk of going mad. Many would be Vampire Mothers of Hybrid children die not as a result of getting weak, but as a result of being executed for the good of the public. An inability to satisfy their thirst will lead to madness. That madness will lead to violence. That violence will lead to death. Often times these madness driven slaughters will only end with the destruction of the mother or the loss of the pregnancy.

Additionally, Vampire mothers do not have better odds of delivering a live child in the event that they manage to keep themselves sane. Miscarriages are pathetically common. The one upside being that a female Vampire is unlikely to be rendered sterile as a result of the complications brought on by a halfblood miscarriage.

Mixed Bloods are distinct in the sense that they can either look more human or more Vampire depending on which parent was the mother. However, regardless of their appearance, a Half Blood will always have some specific defining traits. Half Bloods do not have frozen skin, their blood is not nearly as hot, and their fits of madness are less extreme. They grow quickly then will abruptly stop aging after reaching a specific stage of growth, at which point they are equally as immortal as their Vampire ancestors. Going without blood for too long will result in madness, but their madness can be quickly cured with a single drink of blood.

Additionally, a Half Blood will begin to waste away and can eventually die if they do not consume enough blood. The blood that they drink does not have to be human at all.A Half Blood can survive entirely on animal blood if they so decide, with some even finding animal blood more appealing to their sense of taste. Their visual biology will either more closely resemble human or Vampire in terms of the peculiar status of their genitals.

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Thralls) Vampires who were born through an unnatural means as a result of consuming the blood and flesh of an Original (or True) Vampire are referred to as Thralls. These Vampires retain almost all of their human traits, making them easy to identify among their peers. Visually, the only real difference between a Thrall and a human is their teeth, as Thralls have the typical sharp teeth associated with Vampires.

A Thrall has frozen skin but cold blood, and the curse is so laughably weak in them that they never come to properly resemble the True Vampires or the Dull Bloods. It would take constant and consistent feedings of Vampire blood and flesh in order to cause any sort of additional changes in appearance, but the process is long and tedious and ultimately would only serve for vanity purposes. The only real reason to feed a Thrall Vampire blood and flesh is order to create and maintain them.

Thralls are most commonly created for sake of reproduction, because Vampire and Human relations come with a wide range of complications. Because Thralls are technically Vampires, they are able to safely reproduce with other Vampires without any of the risks associated with Vampire and Human pairings.

One important distinction that must be made when it comes to Thralls, is that they are not genuinely immortal. A Thrall will continue to age due to how weak the Vampire curse is within them, but they are aging so slowly that they often get mistaken for immortal. It takes centuries for visible changes in age to be made, and these changes can be reversed by consumption of more Vampire blood and flesh. A Thrall that never consumes the blood and flesh of a Vampire past the moment of creation will slowly but inevitably grow into old age and eventually succumb to all of the issues associated with it.

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Faction of Eclipse) A group of Vampires that primarily worship and serve Eclipse, though they remain subservient to the other two. These Vampires most closely resemble Eclipse in appearance, and so are believed to be most tied to him. The most common defining traits are extra arms, above average height, dark skin with fiery markings, eyes which resemble a solar eclipse, and a halo of solar rays which resemble a dying flame. Any combination of these traits will result in a Vampire falling into this faction of worship, but all traits are not guaranteed to be present in any one individual. Individuals of this faction cannot be harmed by flame or by ice. Faction of Sun) A group of Vampires that primarily worship and serve Sun, though they remain subservient to the other two. These Vampires most closely resemble Sun in appearance, and so are believed to be most tied to him. The most common defining traits are pale skin with golden/yellow/orange markings, eyes which resemble the sun at mid-day, “Overly hot” blood, and a halo of solar rays which burn vibrantly. Any combination of these traits will result in a Vampire falling into this faction of worship, but all traits are not guaranteed to be present in any one individual. Individuals of this faction cannot be harmed by flame, but can be weakened by ice. Faction of Moon) A group of Vampires that primarily worship and serve Moon, though they remain subservient to the other two. These Vampires most closely resemble Moon in appearance, and so are believed to be most tied to him. The most common defining traits are pale blue skin with white/silver/icy markings, eyes which resemble the moon at any phase, and trail of cosmic dust which will follow their heads, and “cold” blood. Any combination of these traits will result in a Vampire falling into this faction of worship, but all traits are not guaranteed to be present in any one individual. Individuals of this faction are weak to the flame, but cannot be harmed by ice.

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The Cosmic Vampire Deities And the Celestial Pact

Eclipse: The first of the three brothers to ascend to the status of Godhood, and the one most afflicted from the Vampire curse. The scars of his former life as a human remain on him even now as a permanent reminded of what he has done and what he has lost. His human name has been lost or abandoned to time.

Eclipse is the one to have slaughtered the old God and to have first partaken of its blood and flesh. His body has been twisted, making him unrecognizable to his old self. His skin is black as night and his body marked with patches that resemble flame. He lacks hair and instead wears a halo of glowing light that protrudes directly from his skin. This halo shines with the light of a dying flame. As part of his transformation, he grew taller and gained an extra set of arms. His skin is freezing and his body is hot, but not as hot Sun’s. He is most compared to a dying star.

He has taken up the name “Eclipse” in reference to the peculiar appearance of his eyes, which resemble a solar eclipse in a dark sky.

Having regained his sanity following the madness of his transformation, he can no longer bear the taste of human blood. As such he has taken to drinking the blood of animals to fend off the cravings. When those cravings lose ability to be satisfied by animal blood, he will drink the blood of one of his brothers after they have consumed human blood.

He is isolated by his own choice, even in his own home. This has rendered Eclipse as someone that could be described as socially awkward. He is blunt when addressing people and honest with his words, to the point of it being unnerving. This has resulted in him being mistaken for a cold and callous creature, as he struggles to form emotional connections with those that he might interact with. Even his brothers would appear to be treated more as servants than as family.

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Sun: The last of the three brothers to ascend to the status of Godhood. Forced to take up the role in order to avoid being left to the passage of time while his siblings were cursed to an eternity of suffering. The Vampire curse does not bother him as much as it does Eclipse, but it bothers him more than it does Moon.

As a result of his curse and having become a God, his body has been twisted, making him unrecognizable to his old self. His skin is pale and his body marked with patches that resemble resemble gold. These golden markings will shimmer and glow with a light that mirrors the radiance of the sun. He lacks hair and instead wears a halo of glowing light that protrudes directly from his skin. This halo, like his markings, shines with the radiance of the sun. As part of his transformation, he grew taller. His skin is freezing and his body is hot. In fact, his blood burns the hottest of his siblings. He is most compared to a thriving star.

He has taken up the name “Sun” in reference to the peculiar appearance of his eyes, which resemble the sun high in the sky at mid-day..

Having regained his sanity following the madness of his transformation, he has chosen to isolate himself with his brothers. Despite having lost access to his humanity, he still craves those many human things that he once loved. As such he has taken up a multitude of hobbies for the sake of feeling closer to his former human self. Those hobbies including cooking, eating, and drinking human food. These actions do nothing but bring him comfort and help him maintain his sanity.

Despite not being as badly tormented by the curse as Eclipse, he is the one most prone to snapping and injuring the humans that he feeds on. This has resulted in him being the most known to kill people; a fact which torments him to no end. He struggles to maintain any sort of a happy sibling relationship with an Eclipse as a result of this guilt, as he cannot help but blame his brother for the hardships that they now face. Still, there is no denying that he cares deeply for his brothers. Enough so that he is willing to use himself as a means of feeding Eclipse.

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Moon: The second of the three brothers to ascend to the status of Godhood, but the first to be forced to do so by Eclipse. Moon had actually been severely wounded by the assault of the former God and was doomed to perish. His life was secured by his ascension, but he was stripped of his connection to humanity as a result. He is the least effected by the torment of the curse, possibly as a result of having been genuinely forced to partake of the blood and flesh used to transform him.

As a result of his curse and having become a God, his body has been twisted, making him unrecognizable to his old self. His skin is pale and his body marked with patches that resemble silver or snow. Unlike with Sun, these markings are not a direct result of his transformation. These markings are the scars of his former human body, made beautiful by his transformation. These silver markings will shimmer and glow with a light that mirrors the pale glow of moonlight. He lacks hair and instead wears a “night cap” made of cosmic dust. This dust shimmers and glitters as he moves and it follows him wherever he goes. Fingers can be moved through it as though it were hair. There even appears to be a miniature planet trailing at the end of this “cap” of space dust. He has been known to joke that this miniature planet houses life.

As part of his transformation, he grew taller. His skin is freezing and his body is cold, compared to his brothers. In fact, his blood is hardly any warmer than that of a human. A reality chalked up to a belief that, after having nearly been burned to death as a human, he cannot bear to carry the heat of the stars within him. He is most commonly compared to a frozen comet. A false star made not of flame, but of ice.

He has taken up the name “Moon” in reference to the peculiar appearance of his eyes, which track the various phases of the moon in the night sky.

Having regained his sanity following the madness of his transformation, he has chosen to isolate himself with his brothers. Despite having lost access to his humanity, he still craves those many human things that he once loved. As such he has taken up a multitude of hobbies for the sake of feeling closer to his former human self. Those hobbies including gardening, medicine making, and reading. These actions do nothing but bring him comfort and help him maintain his sanity. He often sneaks the medicines he crafts to distant human towns as a means of providing for those in need.

Moon is the least prone to bouts of madness, but when he snaps, he snaps hard. This has resulted in him doing the most damage to people during a feeding, meaning that every time he does snap, he kills someone. A fact which torments him to no end, as he wants for nothing more than to help people. He struggles to maintain any sort of a happy sibling relationship with an Eclipse as a result of this guilt and anger, as the choice to become a God was never given. He was forced to become what he now is. Still, there is no denying that he cares deeply for his brothers. Enough so that he is willing to use himself as a means of feeding Eclipse, if only reluctantly.

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The “Celestial Pact”: The “Celestial Pact” is a sort of verbal arrangement created by the Celestial Deities following a series of dramatic events. The terms of the pact are admittedly inconsistent, prone to being changed over time and altered from time to time in order to maintain the safety and the happiness of everyone involved.

The overall basis of the pact is simple. A human who agrees to the terms will be allowed to live in the home of the Deities. They will be cared for in any way they desire; food, water, clothing, and shelter are guaranteed to be provided. Any additional wants or needs can be tended to at request, but nothing is guaranteed.

Some of the lasting rules of the pact that cannot or will not be changed, are as follows.1. The pact is set in stone once the human provides their name. If the human later reveals that the name they gave was a fake one, then the pact is considered void and they will be expected to leave.2. The human will not be forced to spend all of their time in the Gods home, but they are expected to live there. If the human in question leaves with intention of no longer living with the trio, then the pact is considered broken and they will never be allowed to return.3. The phrase “A drink for a drink, a meal for a meal” is used in reference to the human being expected to satisfy the hunger for blood and flesh that the Deities suffer with in exchange for the Deities assuring that the human is given all the food and drink that they need to thrive.4. There is a lesser discussed addition to the previous phrase, known as “A touch for a touch”, which is used to voice consent in acts of physical intimacy. This intimacy does not have to be sexual, but depending on which Deity this is being expressed with, there will be demands of it being equal. That meaning do not touch where you are not willing to be touched, and do not expect to be shown skin that you would not be willing to show yourself. Because the Deities struggle to connect with people, it is unlikely that “A touch for a touch” will be uttered at all, or that it will be uttered a second time if there has ever been a case of rejection.

5.Another lesser known addition to the first part of the phrase is “Health for Health”. By providing blood for the Deities, the human in question is assuring the well being of their sanity, aka their mental health. In turn, the Deities will go out of their way to assure that the physical and mental health of a pact holder is tended too. Hence there are going to be a lot of social interactions outside of the actual feeding for the sake of assessing the physical and mental well being of the pact holder.

6. Someone bound by the pact is under the protection of the Deities. Thus meaning that by all accounts, Vampires are forbidden from touching them or feeding on them. To hold a pact with the Gods is more or less to become their exclusive meal. A Vampire which makes the mistake of feeding off of the pact holder is likely to be punished, but often times the pact holder is the one to settle on the punishment.

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The “Bleeders Orgasm”: A sort of nifty trick used by the Deities and by non-divine Vampires in order to assure that humans don’t put up much of a fuss during feedings. It is something consciously arranged for by the Vampire as a sort of marker for when enough blood has been drawn.

The act of feeding is an act of drawing life from the human whose blood is being consumed. No two humans are likely to respond the same way to that life being drained. No two humans are guaranteed to survive from the same amount of blood being drawn during a feeding.

Why do humans experience an orgasm when having their blood sucked? To provide an obvious physical reaction when the Vampire’s draw too close to crossing the line and doing lethal damage to the person they’re feeding off of. Not all Vampires utilize this particular trick, but there are variants of it.

There also exists the “Bleeders Sleep” is one such example, where a human will abruptly lose consciousness once enough blood has been drawn. This is not uncommon but it is not as favored, as the abrupt collapse can unwittingly mask the fact that potentially lethal damage has been done, preventing emergency care from being given.

Alternatively, some Vampires go the other route and make the feeding more painful as blood is drawn. They’ll judge when to remove their teeth based upon how violently the humans that they feed on will thrash in their grip. This trick is less favorable as it leads to additional injuries to the human in question, while also providing excuse to label Vampires as creatures that must be feared.

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Extra: Unspoken Rules for Vampires 1. No targeting children (You will be personally struck down by the Gods) 2. No targeting pregnant women (You will be punished) 3. No targeting the sick (You will be ostracized. Also the sick have bad blood) 4. Do not kill your target (You will be ostracized)

Extra: The Vampire Towns There exist towns predominantly made to be inhabited by Vampires. Over the years, these towns have become places where Vampires and Humans comfortably coexist. These are the towns most commonly visited by the Deities, as they are less likely to be met with fear upon arrival.

There are churches dedicated to the Vampire Deities in these towns, and most other religions are not practiced there. Especially the religions with practices that actively harm Vampires.

The whole concept of feeding is treated as a game, to make the children in these towns more comfortable. The game comes with rules on both sides, which everyone is expected to follow. This game is where myths pertaining to Vampires not being able to enter a home uninvited and not being able to cross water come from. The later of which being an aspect of the game which has been drastically changed by word of mouth outside of these towns. The real rule is to not go after a man or a woman who are in the bath.

The myth claiming that Vampires cannot enter a home uninvited comes from the rule explicitly stating that you must ask permission to feed off of a person. Permission is given when you are invited into the home “for a drink”.

The game does change from town to town and even from household to household. Particularly in homes where unmarried people without children might live. Vampires and humans alike are bound to seek the pleasures of the flesh, and when there is a trick used that can make someone experience an orgasm during a feeding, it is inevitable that the game has erotic variants. There are even erotic variants of the game that involve “predator and prey” style behaviors, or other questionable forms of roleplay. (Don’t kinkshame a Vampire and they won’t kinkshame you).

[allwaswell16]

hey

do you know if there is any HL fic based on the 3rd episode of The Last Of Us?

Hi, anon, so the only two The Last of Us fics seems to be these two (although if anyone else knows of some let us know!) I've not seen the show so I don't know about particular episodes. Also, these two seem to be based on the video game rather than the series.

With No Way Out & A Long Way Down by Noro

Louis is on a mission, and gets herself and Harry both caught up in something much bigger than themselves. Or, the one where Louis and Harry take Riley and Ellie's places in The Last of Us: Left Behind.

Endure and Survive by literato

“I don’t know if I can give you back to them. Now that this … now that everything between us has happened.”

“After all we’ve been through. It’s not for nothing.”

Or

An au where Harry, a young survivor 15 years into a zombie apocalypse, makes a promise to accompany a lad his age to a large group with a huge aim of finding a cure for the society in exchange for a new set of guns doubling what he lost. As they make their way across the country of United States, and out of their safety zones, they experience loss, truth, survival and love.

[cultofsappho]

me: im gonna write a rwrb tlou au!! omg alex can be joel and Henry can be ellie and theyre going on a road trip together! enemies to lovers! yes! and June can be tommy and then she can still be with nora! omg!! it’ll be hard but they’ll make it through!! white house trio, badass apocalypse bros, babey!!

also me: what if Raf is tess. what if Amy and her wife are bill and frank. what are u gonna do about “endure and survive”. what about “left behind”. what about that huh. fuck you.

i have no one to blame but myself