#nom nom apocalypse

[galejro]

Witness this brave baby Garou valliantly fighting against a savage vampire attack with defensive noms... Also it's fun and games until you realize in VTM 1dmg is sth like 10-25% of your total health lol

[nomsfaultau]

to be fair fault Wilbur is a monster designed to kill everyone

Naturally, but he’s still Wilbur so he has to be melodramatic about it. Furthermore, his self perception is just incredibly inaccurate given his diametrically opposed core personality traits of ‘jaded survivalist’ and ‘theater hoe’.

Scp Wilbur: I’m am the devourer of worlds, the antithesis of creation! Angst angst angst

Philza: all I’m hearing is somebody skipped lunch again. Let’s get you a little snack mate.

[addisonacres]

When the zombie apocalypse comes, I hope I'm one of the first infected. I have no self control. If I'm not bitten within 24 hours, all of my secret bunker food will be devoured, as I am incapable of rationing. But if I'm a zombie, there's a delicious buffet out there, just waiting for me to shuffle over to them and eat their braaaaaains.

This has been an 'Addison desperately needs coffee to wake up' public announcement.

[theoscarsproject]

Testament (1983). The life of a suburban American family is scarred after a nuclear attack.

One of the best apocalypse films I've seen in a long time, I can't believe I'd never heard of it! Haunting in its exploration of grief after disaster, it never shies away from tragedy. Jane Alexander is staggering in the lead role too - her Oscar nom SO deserved (what a stacked year for Lead Actress!) so for that alone it's well worth adding to your list. Really, really good. 8/10.

[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

I would've snatched them beans out of Takaaki's hands like that homie. BEANS ARE SO YUMMY!!!

[gluion]

safe haven is such a hit for everyone wtf thank you…

[nomiyakazehaya]

started playing dying light because friend wanted to play co-op

i proceed to get crazy mirror's edge whiplash,,,,

[cookie-nom-nom]

Pips--Vignette 1

The little mouse steps out of her home nervously, large ears flattened from the roar of the Vortex Tree. The hastily built vestibule gives her some protection from the wind, enough to immediately assess how dangerous it is and return to shelter to wait out the gale. But grandmama’s sickness is getting worse, and her pups are hungry. Venturing from the safety of the den is the only cure to the ache in her belly. 

Pips instinctively glances to the sky, watching for hawks. But there aren’t any, anymore. Haven’t been in years. It’s nicer in some ways. All the predators and larger animals are gone since they could run away when the winds came. Only the small and meek remain, eking out their survival at the edge of the eternal storm. 

Now instead she watches for banners and streamers tied outside of buildings, ever whipping in the wind to clearly mark the storm’s speed for the day. As a mouse, Pips can’t handle the same intensity larger, heavier critters can withstand. So she gauges their frantic movement carefully, constantly checking before she enters the fray. There are no banners to mark the end of the safe zone for all critters regardless of size. There can’t be, fabric torn away in the teeth of a fierce gust. Pips can’t escape the nightmares of being gnashed in the endless vortex, her small body crushed beneath the debris of buildings and rocks and entire trees caught in the spiral. 

It’s getting hard to make out the banners these days. Once brightly colored to catch attention, the grim dust thick in the air has dulled them. Pips paws at the lenses of her goggles, trying to make out the speed of a flag between the gritty dirt blowing past. They become grimy so quickly, but it’s better than getting dust in her eyes, being too blinded to notice the flags change as a new wave of gales rushes in, blown away into the storm, her family to starve without her….

Calm thoughts. Heavy thoughts. Pips wraps her tail around herself, taking a deep breath to ground herself. The inhale tastes like dust, and she buries her snout in her scarf. A moment to collect what little bravery a prey animal can muster, and she plunges into the storm, claws digging into each step. 

There isn’t much to eat, anymore. Most leaves are stripped bare in the wicked wind, the shade of the Vortex Tree too encompassing for new life to grow. But if you’re clever, there are ways. For now. She doesn’t know what will happen when that runs out. As small as the remaining critters are, evacuation is a long journey, and word is most of the territory in the shrinking perimeter of woods where the storm does not reach. She doesn’t imagine there is much food in the overcrowded remnants of forest, either. 

Ducking through the isolated husk of her town, Pips deeply wishes she were huddled inside too. But she plunges into the storm, to where buildings begin to disappear and all that’s left is the rocks and pits and banners. Pips instinctively hates the exposed air overhead, no brush or canopy to keep her safe. No hawks left. Only me. I can survive where they will not. 

There are no stems on the patch of grass she finds, and the dirty scraps of green have been picked bare by scavengers already. Pips drops to her knees, trying to make herself as small as possible so the wind can’t get at her. First to dig a slight ditch, so her paws can find purchase in the case it becomes a sudden gale. Then, she begins to excavate the roots of the tattered grass, stashing them in her bag to bring home. Slowly, determinedly, the little mouse digs. 

There’s still dirt here. Maybe not for long. She’s heard stories from the bigger animals that the very ground begins to give away closer to the Vortex Tree. Stripped down to the bedrock, never to yield food or resources again even were the storm to cease. They say a badger laden with rocks was able to get close enough to touch an exposed root of the Vortex Tree, but Pips doesn’t quite believe that. Who would be willing to risk so much for so little? 

But here she is, risking her life for thin roots. Periodically checking that the banners haven’t gotten more frantic. Jumping a little as she spots a silhouette approaching in the dust storm. A larger critter, lizard maybe. Pips is jealous of the lizards, with their bodies so close to the ground that the wind has a harder time catching them. Yet this one stumbles oddly, muscles stiff. Her heart pangs, knowing they must have the same illness grandmama has been suffering. 

“Here! Over here! There are roots!” A sudden jolt of worry -shouldn’t she hoard this food for her family?- but it’s too late, the lizard stomping over slowly. It takes a few explanations for him to understand. Pips shows him the parts she’s dug up, and his large claws make it far quicker even if he has to pause often to cough. While she stores her roots in a bag, Zolfo scarfs them down immediately. He shrugs when she asks how long it's been since he last ate. It must be hard to scavenge as slow and dazed as he is. But Zolfo saves half of everything he roots up to give to her. 

Zolfo isn’t much for words, voice hoarse from illness, and he can’t seem to hear her well, though Pips imagines it’s hard without proper mouse ears. She speaks slowly like she does for grandmama, since the illness makes it hard to process words. It’s easier not to worry as much with someone to talk to, his larger body sheltering her from some of the wind.

She grows accustomed to that shelter as they spend hours digging together, and so when he Zolfo shifts and a blast of wind claws through her fur, Pips jolts, jerking to look at the banners she’d forgotten to keep checking. They whip wildly in the wind, growing worse with every second. Shelter, they need shelter now. 

With a squeak of warning, Pips bolts across the clearing towards a small ridge of rocks that could protect her -or quash her beneath them. The wind sweeps her feet with each bound, but terror truly sends her flying, adjusting course to account for the sideways movement. But it becomes too much, a gust slamming into her mid-leap and sending Pips rolling. Stones scrape her pelt, head thumping over and over until at last her claws dig into ground. Pips crawls on her belly to the rock pile, claws hurting as the wind tries to rip her away. The straps of her pack burn as they pull against her, the food she risked so much for now threatening her life. But at last she reaches it. 

Zolfo doesn’t. Pips screams at him to run, but he can’t, movements stiff and uncoordinated. As the gale grows fierce, his sturdy body holds its ground, withstanding blasts that surely would have swept Pips away. Each step sends him skidding, until at last Pips screams “STAY DOWN! YOU WON’T MAKE IT, JUST STAY DOWN!”

Maybe he hears her. Maybe her voice is whipped away in the storm. Maybe the illness clouds his head too much to tell. Zolfo persists, trudging through the gale. Technically, there are still banners, so it isn’t a complete danger zone. He’s large enough that she thinks he might be able to bear the brunt and outlast it. 

But even a titan can fail. As the wind grows worse he tries to dig his claws into the holes they’d created. The relentless wind howls and pushes further, Zolfo’s talons tearing through the ground as he’s dragged across it until at last they slice through. Zolfo loses contact with the ground, and faster than Pips can watch, he’s blown away. 

She doesn’t see what happens. But she knows what will. When the wind slows, occasionally a corpse is dropped back down, mangled beyond recognition by the debris. They can only speculate the type of damage a body fully brought into the heart of the vortex endures. 

Pips numbly huddles in the shelter of the rocks. Her goggles are good at keeping dust out, but they also trap her tears in. She knew the illness was bad, of course. But a slower threat than the Vortex Tree and the apocalypse that came with it never seemed to weigh as much to her as the immediate survival necessities. But the dazed confusion and stiff muscles make it so much harder to survive the maelstrom. In a world where you have to be ready to sprint at a moment’s notice, what becomes of those who can barely walk? 

Quietly waiting for the storm to pass, Pips tries to remember what the sun looks like, before it was blocked out by the overhead swirl of dust and debris and death. She has to carry its soft warmth in her heart for when the cold winds try to tear it away, has to remember how it filled the world with spring when she hasn’t seen something grow in so long. Pips clutches the pack of roots to her chest, longing for the days of bright grass and full bellies. Surely this can’t last. Surely it can’t. She has to remember the sun, because her pups can’t. They haven’t seen it yet. 

(They never will.)

When the gale abaits, Pips dutifully waits a few minutes to see if it is a fluke. And then she’s running, unable to bear another second outside. When Pips gets home, she shakes the dust from her fur and ears. It pools in the home, coating her doors, her walls, her lungs. She sneezes pure black, trying to expel the last of the phlegm even as her throat is left raw. 

“EWWWWW!” her pups squeak in delight, and Pips has to chase Dart away before he touches it (and subsequently chases his sisters around). He wriggles as she snaps him up by the nape, but is more than happy to perch on her shoulders. His little paws trace shapes in the dust on her fur. 

They are always enthusiastic when she returns, and Pips ignores the implication they’re worried she’ll never return. The bag of roots has them running around even more noisily than normal, and she panics about predators, trying to shush them. 

“No more hawks, love,” Tolien reminds her. Her husband’s tail laces with hers as her frantic heart soothes. She has to admit the spasm of shrill childish enthusiasm isn’t something she’d thought she’d ever be allowed to enjoy in safety. Tolien slips the pack off her shoulder, preparing a larger meal than they’ve had in a while. 

“Wow mama! You got a lot today!” 

“A neighbor helped me dig them up. It’s always important to help each other when times get tough,” Pips smiles. 

“Oh! Is he going to visit for dinner?” little Skea asks excitedly. 

“Never.” It’s harsher than she intends. “He’s a lizard, one so large he couldn’t fit in our door! It would be rude to have him eat outside, wouldn’t it?” With a little deflection, her pups begin sticking their tongues out to mimic lizard tongues, and soon are consumed with running around in circles trying to lick each other. Pips slips away, knocking on grandmama’s door and getting no reply. Sleeping, maybe, it’s the only time she doesn’t cough. Hopefully. Pips doesn’t go in her room anymore, since the dust on her fur always makes grandmama’s cough worse. It’s cruel, that the only way Pips can take care of her is to make herself unfit to even see her anymore. 

When she asks Tolien about grandmama’s state, he frowns slightly. “She tried to go outside again. The confusion’s getting worse.” 

“Don’t. You can’t allow her outside, she’ll die, you can’t!” Pips barely stops herself from shouting.

“I won’t,” Tolien placates softly, confused at the hysterical outburst. He offers a hug, and Pips falls into the embrace. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes. But she isn’t,” Pips sniffs. The soft comfort of his paws stroking her fur to smooth out its windswept appearance is ruined by the dust it billows in the air. At least the dust irritation makes her tearing eyes justified. As he murmurs reassurances, they both pretend it’s normal to be constantly coughing and tracking dirt everywhere. By now, it must be normal. The drafts, the dust, the disease, the death. She can’t afford grandmama to wander out and be swept away like Zolfo, too slow and pained to run. 

And she doesn’t, carefully kept inside and cared for. It doesn’t matter. Weeks later and grandmama’s dead anyways. Pips hates explaining the death to her children, but even more she hates that they aren’t confused. Pups that young shouldn’t know what death is, but there’s only so much she can shelter them. 

It’s a type of death Pips isn’t familiar with, if she’s honest. Maybe there’s mercy in the way mice are supposed to die, swift and brutal. Not this suffering slowly petering out to quiet nothing. Grandmama’s muscles aren’t just stiff, but swollen, her body strange and unfamiliar in death. The black dust coating her throat spills out, staining the fur around her mouth and eyes. Grandmama’s joints are particularly bad, so swollen that in places the skin has burst, blood and dust seeping into her pelt. 

No. Not merely dust, not by the way it was growing inside. Pollen. Pollen coating the insides of lungs, tainting every inch of her home, clinging to the fur raising on her back. Pollen spreading through the winds, infecting every breath she’s taken since the Vortex Tree began, ensuring its victims will be swept into its deadly hearth. 

The Vortex Tree

Part 1. From a dream I had. Tw animal death

A lone towering tree scrapped the heavens, the surrounding forest ripped to shreds by the whirlwind converging upon the Vortex Tree. Its influence spanned the horizon, weak at the edges but swiftly pulling everything into the maelstrom. The critters of the woods had no idea how it got there, since anyone present at the time was destroyed alongside everything else, surely bashed to death in the chunks of the world torn up into the cyclone.

No one would tell how big the Vortex Tree was. Swirling dark clouds spun in the whirlwind around the trunk, but whatever canopy lay beyond was still too distant to see. But surely there must be one, or else the sun wouldn’t be blotted out. 

The critters had thought it was dust at the beginning, a choking haze settling in gentler breezes at the periphery, carried far by the wind. Surely there was enough debris for there to be, the bedrock exposed as all was whisked away by the winds. It made critters sick, particularly the ones with fur that trapped the dust, or amphibians that absorb pollutants so easily. Coating their lungs, coughed up gunk and exhaling residue. It was hard to see sometimes, the dust so thick it hung in the air. But it seemed minor compared to the desolation of the entire forest that obliterated peoples lives and homes. At least, till the corpses split open and poured out pure pollen.

It spread like wildfire. Where once the stiff breezes at the edge of the vortex were thought to be safer than the whirlwinds, the critters now knew the danger lacing every breath. The dazed contaminated critters often forgot their caution, wandered too close to the tree. As their muscles locked up they couldn’t withstand the winds, swept ever closer to the Vortex Tree. At the hearth the fierce gale would rip their paws from the ground. Sucked into the whirlwind, the critters were bludgeoned against the stone and trunks and trash that filled the vortex. Their corpses burst apart and spread the infection across the horizon, carried on by the tumultuous winds.

Far worse than the deaths was the chilling implication that a second Vortex Tree could be made. 

The critters stamped out any chance of infection they could, quarantining the dead, evacuating large swaths of what little woods remained, covering their button noses and twitching ears and doleful eyes. They shaved off the fur that pollen clung to, or hiding porous amphibian skin. In time the pollen settled too far to be picked up by the winds and spread further. The critters burned everywhere it touched. 

(The pollen would come again in a century, once all the critters forgot its perils. After a few cycles, those with longer lifespans like the squirrels and lizards began passing down warnings through their generations. They dealt as best they could. Such was their philosophy on most matters.)

There was little means of escape for the tiny animals. The world so vast, the journey perilous for any who tried to evacuate. But with time and bravery the civilizations of critters were pushed further and further away from the Vortex Tree, into territories that hadn’t the berries and nuts and bugs to feed both them and the original inhabitants. But beyond was only prairie, where hawks could always see them, and heat bore down upon scurrying backs used to pleasant shade. No, there was little elsewhere the critters could go, forced to survive on the remaining periphery of the woods. The fragments of the forest would have to be enough. 

And every year, the vortex consumed more and more of the world.

[nyuoqi]

            — PLEASE DON'T HIT (ON) ME!     ౨ৎ     PGW

✸ SYNOPSIS !  : in which you have your fair share of embarrassing moments. one of it being punching a guy's nose for a plushie (which you did not get at the end). but what will you do when he ended up going to the same class as you? wait, oh no! he recognised you. now you're in for one hell of a ride.

PAIRING  𐙚  park gunwook x fem!reader

GENRE  ⊹  socmed + written chapters, uni! au, strangers to enemies to lovers, fluff, humour, maybe angst, reader is unhinged sometimes

FEATURING ⋆ zb1! ricky + gyuvin, ive! rei + wonyoung, evvne! phanbin + jeonghyeon + seungeon, riize! wonbin.

STATUS  𖦹 completed !

📓 3 barbies and 2 kens  .  underground dawgs  .  privs

OO1 decked by a Woman

OO2 1am morning news

OO3 got him turning into shakespeare

OO4 500k words slowburn fic

OO5 gunwook vs yn (smau + written 393 wc)

OO6 tunnel visions

OO7 whos hyunjin

OO8 get in the trunk

OO9 $0.10 shortage

O1O bitchless and no balls competition

O11 when are u not insane

O12 sassy men apocalypse

O13 hater for lyfe

O14 nom nom est yn

O15 we lost him

O16 wallow ur self-pity

O17 finding wonbin (smau + written 989 wc)

O18 need him GONE

O19 spidey senses

O2O not YET (smau + written 1.1k wc)

O21 incapability to pull

O22 under ur bed

O23 freedom of speech

O24 the seungeon beef

O25 cringy asses (fin !)

BONUS CHAPTERS ꗃ ៸៸

coming soon ! . • •

TAGLIST (CLOSED) : @nanadreamies @run2min @dwcljh @leehanascent @pwrcelanii @320flora @chaeryvips @rikimylove @chillychuu @marshwatz @shotaroswifeyily @jayujus @replayenthusiast @yyfka @girlokarina @sionshiii @sparklingsjy @annoyingbitch83 @sillybabycat @junnysbae @07yujin @istphanie @2ynjns @kaynunu @egoistars @bloobworld @xiaoquanquans @heartswonn @infinitehaos @ffixtionista @hrtattcker @rai51db @nanasdream @alltimebnds @luv4ryu @darlingz99 @tlnyjoong @chweverni @llearlert @stryroses @xiurmy-everything @luvvvash @lampcults @xstxrrii (send an ask or reply to this post to be added!)

[unconventional-lawnchair]

A Second Chance pt.3 {Blurb}

Poly!Marauders+Lily x Fem!Reader - Zombie Apocalypse Au

Stick Season Noah Kahan

Masterlist

Summary: Reader has sometime with Remus, before she is sent out alone with Sirius}

Cw; Guns, death, zombies go nom nom , a lot of baby talk, cussing, minor character death, Zombie apocalypse typical violence, infants)

a/n- This is totally just filler, but next chapter is going to be very intense, so warning ahead of time

Wc-2464

Amazing People- @mooonyxoxo @sippinpeachtea @amethyistheart @zjasminelouvre3 @idonotknowenglish @le-clair-de-lune @shylahstarzz

You hadn't slept a wink. Still staring out the window with Hermione against your chest. She had fistfuls of your shirt, and you couldn't bring yourself to put her down, far too anxious of what would happen to her. Your mind wandered to the worst but just because you were terrified didn't mean the world stopped turning.

Eventually, Hemione woke up and gave her soft fussy gurgles. You stood up and tried to stay quiet. Lily had laid in the bed last night, and must have fallen asleep with Harry. They were both sleeping soundly, so you didn't want to disturb them. 

If last night had happened any other time, at any other place, with anyone else, you would have kicked them out. Send them straight back to the woods. It was cruel, but you weren't going to keep around people you didn't trust. However, they had Harry and your friends have done dumber things in the past. They seemed like truly good people, that was rare nowadays, and company of your own age wasn't entirely awful. 

Everyone was going through this for the first time. You did know one thing, however, Sirius was not to be trusted to have Hermione’s best interest at heart. 

You went about your routine, making your way to the kitchen, feeding her with what little milk you could find. You don't know much about about babies, again, you used to find them extremely annoying, but you knew that when Mrs. Granger first had Hermione, she could hardly lift her limbs.

Her husband had asked you to scavenge any nuts you could find, specifically almonds or cashews, he said it wasn't ideal but if he could use it with his water supply he could make a suitable replacement until his wife was better. It was crazy to think they were gone. Did they even think that it was a possibility? That you would be looking after their baby girl?

It was life or death in the moment, but they had made a point to involve you from day one. You hadn't been entirely close, but even if they were just a few years older than you, you looked up to them. So much resolve, tenacity, and with a bond you saw in the movies. It's crazy to think you had been traveling with them for two years, and suddenly, they were gone.

Thinking about it now, Mr. Granger made a point of teaching you what he knew, Mrs. Granger had made sure you were the first person Hermione was comfortable being held by at such a young age. For nine months you had to hear the nervous but excited soon to be dad rattle on facts about newborns that you now used day to day. Barty used to joke you were ready for your own, you could still remember the absolutely horrified look Regulus had when the thought of you as a mother came across his mind. Evan’s laughter rang in your ears as you elbowed Barty in the side for the sly comment.

Maybe they did have a feeling. They were always smarter than you.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard Hermione give another gurgle, quickly you set the milk down and began to rub her back. You were distracted, again.

Using as little formula as you could with the abomination of handmade nut milk was the most sustainable option. Just three more months and it would be time to worry about getting your hands on mashed food. The stress of it all wasn't necessarily bad, you found yourself waking up every morning with someone to be awake for.

Cooing at her as you swayed around to keep her calm. You had to admit, she was a cute little thing. Even if it wasn't what you wanted, even if you lost the people dearest to you, you wouldn't go back. The idea that any other outcome would have resulted in those monsters getting their hands on her terrified you more than anything.

Those bandits, the so-called “Death Eaters” like some pathetic indie rock band name, were ruthless. They first started appearing about a year ago, they had even attempted to recruit your group. 

Some religious ramblings about the worthy and the righteous, always fell on deaf ears for you. Even then, they seemed particularly insane. Speaking of the rapture and innocence leaving the community around you. That the most dignified should step up and show why they were worthy to be on earth.

That was when, of course, you had just met the group.

You weren't as skilled as you were now, but you had been alone for months when this all started. Trial and error had your best interest at heart, until skill slowly took over. When you met them, you were not the most.. easy person.

As in you stabbed, who you later learned to be Barty, right threw the hand. To your absolute horror he called you hot for it. The damn psycho. You missed him. 

Evan wasn't far behind in thinking you were just the best thing since sliced bread. Maybe it was the change in faces around their boring camp, but you quickly went from some stranger they hunted with, to someone who would pop up at their camp. Eventually, you never left. You made friends with the people there, and being a part of a group made you feel safe since the first time it all happened.

Maybe that was another reason why you were so determined to keep these people around. You wanted nothing more than to be witnessed. 

You were once again rudely snapped from your thoughts at the feeling of being watched. You hated that feeling. You turned to look at the doorway from the hall to the kitchen and locked eyes with that Remus boy. He looked to be sweating, but trying to hide how much pain he was clearly in. He seemed startled to see you, slowly smiling and you nodded to him, turning to look out the window.

He joined you in silence, using two chairs to prop his ankle up above his heart. 

Eventually, he spoke up.

“How did you sleep?” 

“I didn't. Couldn't.” You mused and after a moment of silence you turned to see him again. His eyes were closed but he didn't seem to be dozing. “... did you sleep?”

“Couldn't.” He responded and you nodded. “The pain or your friend?”

“Both.” He mumbled and slowly opened his eyes. “He.. we'd known him since we were 11.” 

He seemed so solemn. It didn't even cross your mind they may have known each other from back before the change. You walked over and took a seat beside him, and he continued. “He was always a bit of an anxious kid, maybe he did some things I need to think twice about but.. I never would of figured him to..” 

“Yeah.” You whispered. “No one wants to think of a friend that way.”

You rolled your tongue. It was hard to hold a conversation, truly. You had been alone for a month, before that you spent two years of your life with people you mostly listened to. 

“So,” Remus began. “If you don't mind me asking, where were you when this all started?”

The question grew worn and weary with each new encounter, gradually losing its significance. It was more common than normal formalities at this point. 

It held a certain importance, though, as it let many saps share their story with another person. It was a way to ensure that, even in your absence, at least one person would know your story. That you weren't lost in this world like the thousands of others who were gone. So, when the inevitable end came, whether in the tearing grip of zombies or other perils that watched you in the tree line, someone would carry your memory until it became their turn.

It just seemed to hit you, everyone in that camp. Regulus, Barty, Evans, the Grangers. Their stories were now all that was left of them. Right.

You hoped to be so lucky to tell Hermione of the heroes her parents were. The lives they saved, including yours and her own. 

“It's a.. long story.” You sighed and he nodded. 

“Is there anything else to do?” Remus offered and you purse your lips. 

“Actually,” You looked out the window and bit your cheek. The sun was rising slowly, you didn't need to be anywhere just yet. “Short version.”

Remus leaned back against his chair and nodded before you took a deep breath.

“My dad, he worked for the military. He used to take me on these hunting trips with his coworkers. These two idiots and a pretty cool veteran.”

“Is that how you shot down that buck?”

“Learned from the best.” You nodded, smiling down at Hermione as you ran your hand soothingly down her back. “My dad and I got into this big fight.” You whispered, smile fading. “I took a hike early to get away from them all. They were being.. men.”

“Men?” Remus smirked.

“Men.” You cheeked. Remus was easy to be playful with. “On my walk, there was this guy. He looked unconscious. It was.. it was a bit jarring. Then when I called for help he got up. He was eating meat of some kind.”

You shuttered as you remembered so clearly the crazed and red faced man looking at you. Like you were his next meal. “And then my dads friend, Mr. Prewett came out of nowhere. He jumped in front of me and this guys just- well.. you can assume what happened. I went back to camp and I told my dad. He panicked and called the sheriff office.” You waved your free hand. “Useless. Eventually, there was this mass panic and people chasing each other. My dad packed up the car and told me to drive. To go home and wait for him and his friends there. He just.. never came back.”

Remus nodded along thoughtfully.

“What of you five?” You asked in kind. He fiddled with his nail. 

“We had just been sent home from boarding school. We were on a train home and suddenly it just stopped.” Refused recounted the horrified screams and the mass panic. Remembering locking their compartment and drawing the curtains. The sounds of tearing and horrified screams etched into his memory.

You winced a bit. “A train?”

“Right? I mean, who starts these things off on a train?”

Okay, that made you laugh. The cheeky bugger. “How did you make it out?”

“Lily broke a window.” 

“That.. makes sense. She seems like she has a thing or two going for her upstairs.”

“Something the other two lack.”

Okay, he was definitely charming too. A sense of humor could go a long way. A comfortable silence settled over you, before you saw how late it was getting. You began to stand and Remus winced as he shifted to look at you. 

“Where are you headed?”

“The spring further down the forest line. It's fresh water and I have an embarrassing purifier.” 

“You're taking her?” 

“...” You usually did take littler Hermione with you, you hated to be so far from the house without her. You knew it would be easier, however, to leave her behind. 

“I-”

“I'll watch her.” Remus offered gently.

Your eyes locked onto his hazels. You searched them with a determined tightness in your chest. Remus had never done anything to make you think he might hurt her. Something about the boy reminded you of safety in its purest form.

But you weren't going to just trust your gut. Not again.

“I'll set her down in the livingroom. If she cries-”

“I'll be here. I promise.” 

You slowly nodded and gave him a brief pained smile. His eyes were soft and so was his curled lips. Showing you a gentleness you only saw after you met the group. It frustrated you to no end, to not understand why your heart was clenching so painful and desperate in your chest at just a look.

You turned sharply and walked into the livingroom, past the sleeping figures to hide her away in the corner as you always did. You made a point to not look at Sirius nor James.

James seemed distraught, holding his curly strands of hair in between his fingers. Eyes bloodshot.

Seems no one slept.

“I am going out, down to the stream. It's a walk, so I'll be back by the time the sun goes down.” You informed them, it felt odd to have someone to report to again.

Walking past them, James suddenly stood up on his feet before he stumbled a bit. “Alone? You're going alone?”

Sirius came to grab his wrist and help him stay up.

You looked back at them with a quizzing look. “Yes. We need water. I figured the idea would make you happy.”

James shook his head. “No- no- water, it's- it's great.” He mumbled and stared at you. His eyes were low and filled with concern. You should have walked away, but he looked like a wounded puppy.

“Is that.. okay, James?” You whispered back. It was hard to stay too stern with him. 

“It is just.. just alone?” He pushed and you slowly crossed your arms.

“I have survived plenty long without-”

“I-I'll go with you! We can be quicker too, I'm pretty strong I-”

“James.” You cut in on his words sharply and his eyebrows pinched together with a sad look. “... yes?”

Merlin, you see why Lily was so taken with him. If the current situation was anything else-

“I will be fine alone.” You insisted before Sirius cleared his throat. 

“You?” You glared at Sirius, this time, unlike yesterday, he didn't shy away. “I'll go with you.”

“No.”

“Can't really stop me, can you?” Sirius mused and picked up James's gun. You glared at him harder and he sighed, handing it back to James. 

“No weapons.” He comprised.

“And you travel ahead of me.” You huffed, the black haired boy slowly smirked. “Darling, I don't have a clue where we're going.”

You rolled your eyes. “Just bloody- follow me then.”

Before he could make another comment you walked to the door and began to leave. James seemed to visually relax, and Sirius hurried after you.

“Don't slow me down.” You warned him, stepping into the porch. The outside was calm and serine, but there was this sinking feeling in your chest that only grew worse as you tried to catch something in the tree line. 

It felt like you were being watched. You hated that feeling.

Your thoughts were suddenly cut out of your mind when you heard Sirius.

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

[shadesoflsk]

  — MILLION DOLLAR BLOODLINE

PREVIEW

In the middle of the glamorous and alluring 80s decade, a new case of crimes has started to alarm Raccoon City’s citizens. Politicians and cold-blooded people are stabbing each other in their backs, forgetting about alliances or even morals.  As a young detective tries to unravel the deep and hidden secrets in the city of freedom, no villain is safe. Meanwhile, a mysterious leaker and traitor is on the loose, working in the shadows to bring down those who drained innocent people of their lives and money.

pairing: Vampire/Agent Leon x Fem Detective reader

warnings: +18 CONTENT MDNI Rivals to lovers, crimes, messed up government, end justifies means type of mindset, set in the 80's, misogynistic terms, (from the press) gore, death, violence, blood, catholic symbolism, angst, Leon is a softie with reader, eventual smut, biting. (Read author's note for more information.) I'll write new warnings for each chapter.

CHAPTER I — Adam & Eve

CHAPTER II — Traición

CHAPTER III — Revelation

CHAPTER IV — Songs of Solomon

CHAPTER V — Judas

CHAPTER VI — Apocalypse

author's note: Hello! How's everyone? This is my first time writing a series and yeah... I have always liked mystery and crime novels so I knew I had to do this at one point. Leon being a vampire is a plus because I was dying to write him as one. But he's still the same agent even though he might nom nom on reader's neck once! (or twice)

If you have any other question regarding any warnings or content, feel free to send me an ask. (And please, read my guidelines so you know what I'm not comfortable writing)

I'll try to post the first chapter this Friday 2nd.

Take care everyone! Love ya.

[karmacomesaround]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

@kraang5 @karmacomesaround

tw: blood

[oneknightstand-if]

RO's react to seeing MC wearing their clothes? (I'm assuming in a relationship is more fun, unless someone in the crush stage has a more interesting reaction than 'hey man that's my hoodie. can i have it back. thanks')

By the time some of these enter the stable relationship period, the apocalypse would be in full swing also terrible spoilers for some of them, so they'd probably just assume that a demon nommed on the MC's clothes or something.

Otherwise, some MCs can start wearing the ROs clothes as soon as Chapter 2-5 depending on their (lack of) clothing options.

Merlin: It was previously mentioned before, but you can't wear their clothes for incubus plot reasons.

Adrian: Unless you're a shorty, his clothes are the ones being worn by default by certain MCs in Chapter 2-5. Now he wishes he packed more extra clothes in that backpack of his.

Arthur: He's used to it. Particularly with the MC who keeps imagining him in strange clothes when they meet up in their dreams. Do guys really wear such short skirts in modern times?

Percy: And now he's in MC's clothes.

4̵0̸4̸ ̶E̴r̷r̸o̴r̶ ̴N̷o̴t̸ ̷F̶o̴u̸n̵d̴: Uhhh...

Cassandra:

Gwen: Depending on the height/build of the MC, she's wondering how the heck did you fit in there?! Otherwise, she doesn't mind and finds it sweet.

Vivian: What clothes?

Lorelei: It's the gas mask, right? She totally understands why you'd want to borrow the gas mask.

Broderick: He's well aware of the whole boyfriend sweater thing. Although maybe he ought to start wearing bullet proof vests that the MC can borrow considering what's been going on.

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog: Wakfu Season 2 (episodes 22-26)

Episode 22 - The Silence of the Rings

Insane lore implications for Ruel fans (all 3 of them)

"Made in Amakna Copyr"

NOM: Passambaal

PRENOM: Torrhe

SEXE: M

NE RE: 12 Octilliard 823

Nation d'Amakna

Judging from this, Breta is either a part of the kingdom of Amakna — or this man is travelling a long way.

"Pour vivre heureux vivons tamponnes / To live happily, live stamped"

[guy who is only interested in Waven-era Bonta voice] Unironically, Waven-era Bonta seems to be run a similar way. Though, unlike Cassis and Melo, — Joris, Kerubim, and Atcham have some plausible deniability thanks to Waven-era being a post-apocalypse wartime.

I think Joris would approve of this unironically, considering Waven.

"Le kama fetiche / favorite cama

mon precccieu / my precccious"

UGHHHHH I am not translating this.

The third one says "The Dark Dofus" and something about it being the secret to the best omelette I think, but I am too lazy to translate it fully beyond that. I am so lazy.

Episode 23 - The Crimson Claws

[coughs weakly] How would you know about possessing dragons, Qilby. [coughs in season 4 confirmed two-way mind link between eliatropes and dragons] Do you have anything interesting to tell us about your very healthy and normal 99999999999999999999999999999999999999 years of life together with Shinonome? Please? Some crumbs?

I often see people claim that technology has hardly progressed in the centuries between Dofus and Wakfu, and in some ways its true — this setting is hardly interested in exploration of how the tech has developed, however...

I do think that giant underwater submarines with guns are more at home in Wakfu, than in Dofus. At least in part because there's less water in Dofus.

One of the weirder changes of season 4, is that, by that time, Sufokia has "an empress".

My headcanon is as follows: His mom is the empress, and this is a matriarchical society. King is his father's title to point out that he is below his wife on the social ladder.

THIS HAUNTS ME!!!! THIS HAUNTS ME!!!!!!!!

The possibilities for how this happened are endless, but I do want to point out that New Sufokia has been underwater for centuries. Is this a very old teacup? Is this a fucking centuries old teacup? Is this boufbowl merch? Am I insane? Am I mentally ill?

Episode 24 - Phaeris the Mighty

"I don't like violence" is something only the most sussiest of Eliatropes say, I think.

If Joris, Atcham, and Kerubim weren't a part of this franchise, I'm sure I would be very mentally ill about Qilby and Shinonome. Specifically them. The implications. The implications.

He loves her a lot. And I think she was just as responsible for the things he's did, — whether she was a reluctant participant, or an active one. And I think she loves him a lot too. They've been all alone together for 99999999999999999999 years, after all. Their relationship is completely different to that of the other Eliatrope-Dragon twins, and their outlook on the other twins is just as different.

Episode 25 - The White Dimension

LIKE WHAT IS THE DEAL WITH THIS FUCKING TEACUP!!! WHERE DID IT COME FROM!!!

I'm literally insane about him.

Guys, I think Qilby has some supremacist beliefs about the Eliatrope people.

Episode 26 - The Eliatropes

Guys, I think Qilby has some supremacist beliefs about—-

He loves her so much it's crazy.

I know Tot doesn't care... but I do <3 I do. A lot.

The implications of Shinonome being his ride-or-die even while he was doing the mechasm stuff, coupled with the implications of her being like "oh goddess this has to stop now" by this point, are insane.

And so are the implications of his disbelief.

My honest reaction:

im going to hopital. gootbye

WHAT'S WITH THE TEACUP!!!!!