#post apocalyptic au

[celestie0]

taglist for choso x reader zombie au fanfic

hellooo i've been itching sooo bad to write some sort of au with choso in it and i've just decided to go ahead and start writing it. just wanted to make this post to see if anyone wants to be added to the taglist for it in advancee for when i've got the first chapter up. if you want to read a bit more about what i've got planned for it here's a lil summary as well as some tags:

ᰔ pairing. zombie au - zombie killer choso x assassin reader (f) ᰔ summary. in a world overrun by the undead, choso kamo is a name feared throughout the world--a man with unparalleled skill, the renowned "zombie killer" who leaves a trail of corpses behind in his wake. but he is a lone wolf, his location consistently evaded by any of the major post-apocalyptic factions across all continents. you are a survivor who has been haunted by endless loss, and your fiancé is among the countless missing since the outbreak began. forced to adapt and survive, you've honed your own intellect and strategic abilities, establishing yourself as a formidable re-conqueror of territory to establish livable areas for civilians. in a chance encounter with a mysterious organization called The District, you're told they have information on your fiancé's whereabouts, which they will offer you contingent on one condition: that you track down and kill choso kamo. ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, angst, smut, fluff (sort of), heavyyy enemies to lovers they're literally gonna be trying to kill each other lol, forbidden romance/cheating, gore, character deaths, slow burn, post-apocalyptic, dark themes, psychological trauma, moral dilemma, also many of the other jjk characters will be in it

if you're interested and would like to be tagged please reply to this post!! thank you if you're interested, i'm so excited to write it i've been planning it in my head for a while <3 much love

[shamrockqueen]

Predator in the desert

Chapter 3

Pairing : Winter soldier x reader (post apocalyptic AU)

Warnings : Desperation, starving behavior, references to war, duality of the mind, emotionless man

Word count : 2020

Chapter 1

Bucky MasterList

You stopped breathing, the ghost of an echo bouncing through your ears after he’d yelled at you.

Your eyes snapped from his cutting and cold gaze, further down to the glimmer of his fearsome metal fingers as they closed around the old brass knob on the door. The only opening to the room, the only way out, and you wouldn’t be able to reach it, let alone slip past his solid stonelike frame.

You weren’t ‘calm’ by any means, but he had your attention, and even as you continued to shiver, it was all he really needed.

“Are you hungry?”

You flinched as he spoke; his voice edged only with a lack of patience as it reached out to you with heavy hands to shake you from your reeling thoughts.

You didn’t answer just yet, feeling your pulse thrum along your skin wildly. You just laid there, stunned as you stared at those metal fingers tightening around the knob of the door and trying to ease your own breathing before it made you feel numb.

“I asked if you were hungry.” He was much more stern, and even a little louder this time, watching with equal disinterest as you gasped back and struggled to answer.

“Y-yes… I‘m hungry.”

You spoke weakly, your lips shaking and your eyes welling with a wet dribble of tears. Like a small break in the smallest of bones as you gave in to the absurdity.

Of course you were hungry. You’ve been hungry since you were a screaming infant, just as everyone doomed to a life in the wasteland had been. Food in any amount was a luxury, whether it’s warm meat and grains or smashed bugs you find crawling along the floor by your bedroll.

This promise of food without a single bat of his eye should have felt like a dream come true, but something in your stomach felt heavy before clenching with a sharp cramp. That familiar pang of hunger pains morphing viscerally into obvious fear as your guts knotted together.

This was the only moment in your miserable life that you didn’t crave food, as you were consumed only with dread.

You didn’t want to take anything from this unholy amalgamation of man and metal. It was like cowering beneath the boogeyman, a monster of jagged teeth and twisted limbs that could steal your last shred of innocence, only to find an unreadable being that looked no different from yourself. He didn’t wear enough of his lethality on his skin, leaving you to spiral at the possibilities of what these chains binding you to his lair really meant for your near future.

It was no better than being a rabbit caught in a cage. There is the offer of water and now food, but the danger of your captivity, just as the chain around your leg, was a staunch reminder that none of this would be out of kindness. There is no good reason that you are here—none that could be conceived as all the terrible reasons swarm your aching head.

His expression never seemed to change as he took in every reaction you gave him, seeming to read it like new data to further his own strange purpose. When he was finished searching your jumbled tomes, whether having found his needed information or losing interest, he dragged that door open and disappeared through it before shutting you back inside that room. Only this time, you were alone with the crushing silence he had once held above you.

A silence quickly broken by the hard clack of a lock turning shut in the flimsy wooden barrier this soldier had placed between you two.

He fit the stories from old fantasies of war. An old story long left covered in dust, detailing how both sides ate away at one another until the bones were bare and empty of their marrow. He bore the red star, the mark of a demon of irradiated sands. One head severed from its ranks meant two would splinter out in its place, biting and gnashing its way through the wasteland.

The great hydra was supposed to be dead, a final rest assured long before your own birth. How wrong they all were apparently, and as you recounted those scary fairy tales, your stomach twisted harder and harder.

You tried to steady your breathing, letting it stutter and shake before it finally met an even rhythm.

‘You really did need to calm down’ The traitorous thought was the last fly to buzz through your brain before you let the muscles in your shoulders fall loose to hit the floor.

Your ankle still felt heavy with its new iron cuff, and you struggled back onto your elbows and further onto your feet, the sound of the chain dragging along the wood the only noise left to taunt you.

Your eyes narrow at the brassy knob, a small spark of defiance finally igniting in your chest only to fall short of catching a flame.

You were frustrated at best, hot tears stinging your eyes before spilling out over your dirty cheeks.

‘Why me? For fucks sake, why?”

How were you significant enough to be stolen? Did he pity you, thinking that keeping you would be better for your well-being, like a lost kitten climbing among the rocks he had scooped up?

Why would a monster want to help you? Why would he bother to care for you when he could do what any other villain would do to others who strayed too far from home?

But, this room didn’t look like a pen to keep his livestock. It had a small window at its other end, barred on the outside of the glass for your protection. The bed wasn’t shabby, only worn, and with actual blankets and pillows.

If you were to be kept, you suppose he chose to keep you well.

You turned back to the door, its knob within reach, but you didn’t jump to futilely pull or tear at it. You reach forward, a shriveled shard of hope still tearing at your heavy heart as you slide your fingers around it.

You know it was locked; you heard it happen, but you still clung to the possibility of this being a terribly real nightmare instead. Maybe your mind would let you open the door, but as you twisted the handle, it of course did not budge.

You stood closer, your head falling to your chest as you pressed your fingers to the wood. Your mouth opened with a shaking exhale of an empty scream, and new tears flooded over to wash the rest of your grimy face.

You did not expect the door to push forward on its own, nearly smacking you in the face as it knocked you back. You land on the floor unceremoniously. Still so weak and unsteady, you weren’t even a suitable match for an old door.

The man was back, standing over you with a plate in his human hand. He sighed before setting the platter of promised food on the bed, stepping over you in the process.

He spoke evenly, saying, “I didn’t mean to hit you,” but his voice didn’t carry any ounce of guilt for knocking you back on your ass. Would this have been the first time he’d knocked you down, or was it simply the only time he hadn’t meant to do so?

“Are you alright?” he asked as he leaned over your crumbled form, reaching towards your reddened cheek where the wood had initially smacked you.

You immediately shied away from his touch but didn’t fight to scramble backward.

He leaned away but offered you his less harrowing hand to help you off the floor instead of leaving you to do so by yourself again.

You never answered his last question, but as he didn’t press further, it was possible that he wasn't really interested either way.

He gestured to the plate of food he’d set on the bed and said flatly, “Eat.”

You looked over at the plate still perched on a pile of blankets. A slab of cooked meat, diced cubes of root vegetables, and a mush of something boiled, green, and leafy. It was the best thing you’d ever seen.

Actual meat the size of your hand coupled with real vegetables possibly rich with those vitamins and mineral-things the doctor used to talk about. Whatever it was, it made your tongue wet as you swept it over your cracked lips.

A small part of you still wanted to be cautious, as another balled its fists in frustration from being kept away from a beautiful plate of healthy food.

You opened your mouth, only to choke back on the words with a wet cough. You sputtered again, crying like a sad child for him to witness before finally speaking.

“Are you going to drug me?”

"No,” he answered quickly and with little care.

You watched for any signs of a farce, a twitch of an eyebrow, a quirk of a lip, anything. His eyes held their dull, disinterested blue as he waited for you to make up your mind.

You ventured closer to the plate, pressing a dirty finger against the still hot morsel of meat. It was light in color, like white meat off a rabbit, but you needed to be certain before going past this thin line you had drawn for yourself.

Your lips stuck together as you nearly whispered a squeak of a few words, “Is it people?”

The ‘P’ was sputtered by the drop of collected tears, making the sound more pronounced as it left your lips.

“No”

You looked back at him at the subtle change in his voice. With one word, one syllable, it was oddly unmistakable. He sounded a little offended, and yet he didn’t lift a finger against you.

That last ‘no’ was all you needed before throwing yourself at the plate, scooping at the wet potatoes and greens with your fingers to wipe the tasteless sludge over your tongue in ecstasy.

You tore at the meat with your bare teeth like a hungry dog in a frenzy of unending starvation.

You weren’t human anymore; no longer yourself. It was shameful how you felt. In this moment, as you tore at a lump of fat with your back molar, you wanted this more than ever.

You wanted to be a pet if it meant the promise of this minimal care. You wanted to be kept; you wanted the fresh water and food; damned be the consequences.

You weren’t thinking clearly, not until you licked the last stain of grease and green vegetable smudge off the plate with your desperate little tongue. You hadn’t realized you were panting, gasping at the air, and holding the plate with white knuckles and numb fingers as if he could fly off and never return.

His expression had shifted for only a second. A split moment where his eyes widened a single centimeter before returning to their natural steely state. His shoulders stayed stiff with new concern. It was all a subtle change you had missed during your indulgence.

“Do you want more?” He asked, his voice still tainted with that unspoken concern.

You swear you could nearly feel your heart stop at just hearing those words. You were still desperate, and you nodded frantically.

He reached carefully towards you for the plate, giving you his metal fingers instead of the soft fleshy digits of his other hand. Possibly anticipating being bitten when pulling away the saucer. You let him take it from you, watching as he repeated his earlier actions of leaving and locking you inside the room.

There was a burn of shame somewhere in your stomach, but it was greatly overshadowed by a deep desire for sustenance. And, this man, what should be a monster in your eyes, was unbothered to fulfill such a desire.

You stood in place, not reaching for the door like the captive you are, not waiting on the bed like a puppy missing its master. But, by god, you wanted that fucking food.

Chapter 4

More post apocalyptic AU

Tags : @itsswritten @cjand10 @dear-lolita @took-a-wr0ng-turn @scott-loki-barnes @ihavetwoholesforareason @potatothots @toozmanykids @wintrsoldrluvr @heletsmelovehim

[thlayli-ra]

It seems like an appropriate time to bring this oldie back!

[jack-o-phantom]

Went ahead and finished a WIP from ages ago. Look at em' go

[plague-of-insomnia]

A sneak peek at the next chapter of The Glue That Binds Us, a sebardagni post-apocalyptic sickfic:

Sebastian was tired today. His muscles were complaining especially, like teens wanting to sleep past noon on the weekends, and he had to carefully brace himself with both hands on either side of his body to ensure he remained sitting. He didn’t think he could walk today, but he didn’t want to admit it. Not when Bard had only been home a few days and Sebastian was doing all he could to make it seem like he was fully recovered from the pneumonia and as fine as he could be.

He knew he should call Agni. If Bard weren't home, he would have already. But something about Bard returning from the seeming arms of death meant that Sebastian felt like he owed the man at least a few days without excessive worry. He couldn't prevent the attacks that often robbed him of sleep during the night, but this--pretending he was fine during the day--he could at least attempt.

He slid his arms into the familiar loops of the homemade forearm crutches Bard had made him and wrapped his fingers around the handgrips. He could do this. The cabin was small. It was only a few feet from the bed, through the bedroom door, and then just a couple more to the sofa in the main room where he'd be able to stop and rest.

Of course, if he fell, he could seriously injure himself--not to mention get a lecture from both Agni and Bard for his stubbornness. But it was already bad enough that both men treated Sebastian like glass. It was already infuriating how he'd desperately want to help, have the motivation, but not the strength, energy, or breath to help Agni with much of the house and farm work.

It didn't help that every time he closed his eyes he wondered if he'd never wake up again. Or how much it pained him to know that he would be leaving Bard alone, most likely, when he did.

Agni was a good actor and did a fairly decent job of keeping his spirits up and his true emotions hidden, but Sebastian had been with Agni for most of his life now; nearly a quarter of a century. He knew Agni almost better than himself.

It had not escaped Sebastian's notice in the last couple weeks as he finally began to recover from the pneumonia that had knocked him on his ass, when his mind had cleared enough for him to be able to notice things Agni likely thought he was still too sick and confused to.

Like how exhausted he was, physically, mentally, and emotionally, as if it radiated from his bones. Sometimes, Sebastian had wondered if he had died if it would have lifted the other man's burden, though he feared it might actually be worse.

Sebastian wasn't certain, but he suspected that Agni wouldn't want to live once Seb was gone.

Which would mean Bard would be alone again, like he was when they'd first met almost five years ago.

[birinboom]

Post-Apocalyptic Shopkeep Bakugou

This came from me being tired and skimming a prompt for another piece - coffee shop/bookstore au or dystopia au with Bakugou - and my eepy brain turning it into ‘dystopian bookstore Bakugou’. I ended up imagining less of a bookstore per se, and more of a shop from a dystopian/post-apocalyptic game where you’d buy weapon upgrades, treasure maps, etc from an older and incredibly tired Bakugou.

WARNING! This is quite a bit darker than what I usually write, it contains mentions of blood and death (the reader recalling seeing someone being shot). 

Shopkeep Bakugou, linguist reader Post-apocalyptic au, mentions of blood, mentions of death, mild swearing, fluffy ending 🌸 1,205 words

Making the trek across the dried-up seabed was always a challenge, even as civilization slowly expanded, creeping closer and closer to the old shipwreck. You adjusted the piece of fabric you’d tied over your nose and mouth; the dust kicked up with every step was hazardous if inhaled. It would cut your lungs to shreds - or so you’d heard. You didn’t want to take any chances.

Finally you spotted the wreck, tucked into a dip in the ocean floor. As always, you took a short detour to marvel at the bones jutting from the ground close to the wreckage. You always liked to imagine that this giant creature was the one to take down the ship, tearing it to pieces before letting it sink to the bottom of the ocean. Maybe it died from its wounds? Maybe it had cut itself on the metal of the hull and bled to death? Or - much more likely - the creature was a victim of the ocean drying up, completely unrelated to the wreckage. You shrugged, reaching out to touch the sun-bleached bones. It didn’t matter what the truth was. You’d never find out anyway, and the idea of a battle between ship and sea monster was fun. 

Moving on, you started the climb onto the shipwreck, careful to not cut yourself on the rusty metal. Your gaze crept up to the bow of the ship where the name had once been painted. It had bleached enough over the centuries that it was almost invisible, all you could read was ‘MS Ba--’ Maybe that was why he’d picked this place. Far enough from civilization that only serious buyers would make the trek. You had started to think of the wreckage as the ‘MS Bakugou.’ Another thing to amuse yourself with. And amusement was exactly why you’d come.

The air cooled around you as you moved deeper into the wreck. Finally, you reached your destination, a door with the words ‘stay the fuck away!’ painted on it. Ignoring the warning, you began spinning the handle, your labored breath almost drowning out the muted sounds of the latches clicking into place on the opposite side of the door. Then, you heaved the door open, instantly raising your hands as the door clanged against the wall. 

A battle-hardened crimson gaze bore into you over the barrel of a shotgun. You stood still, knowing well that moving before he’d recognized you might cause him to pull the trigger. You’d seen it happen when some idiot decided to attempt to raid the wreck while you’d been present. His rattling breath still haunted your dreams. 

“It’s just me,” you said softly.

“You again?” His voice had a tinge of irritation, but he lowered the gun.

You entered, carefully stepping over the tall threshold, lest you trip like you did on your very first visit.

“What do you want this time?” Bakugou’s voice was tired. You couldn’t remember when his tone had changed from the snark it’d had that first time; when the hard edge had appeared. But you supposed that it happened to everybody over time.

Placing your hands behind your back, you looked around the room, inspecting the shelves.

“You got anything new?”

Bakugou gestured behind him before he picked up an oiled cloth and a rusty handgun receiver. “Bought a couple of crates from a traveler yesterday. Haven’t had a chance to look at them properly yet.”

Slipping behind the counter, you crouched next to the crates, slowly searching through the contents. Despite how irritated Bakugou had sounded when you showed up, it was testament to his trust that he allowed you to be behind him. It had taken years of visits before he’d stopped watching you like a hawk, longer still for him to relax in your presence. Turning your head, you just watched him for a while, watched his broad, scarred shoulders move under his tattered, sleeveless shirt as he cleaned the rusty handgun, gaze focused on the weapon. His movements were fluid with decades of practice. Hypnotizing. 

Bakugou spared you a glance. “Found anything?”

“Not yet,” you replied, eyes snapping back to the crates. 

You heard a soft chuckle but chose to ignore it as your fingertips brushed over something papery. Digging your hands further into the crate, you pulled out a stack of books, their pages yellow with age. 

“Bakugou, look at this!”

He turned, one eyebrow rising when he saw the stack in your hands.

“Heh, only a nerd like you would be so happy over books.”

“I’m a scholar, you old fart!” you retorted.

Bakugou bundled the oiled cloth in his fists, preparing to throw it at you as punishment. His hands sank when you took no notice of him, too busy looking through the books. He had to fight to keep the fond smile off his lips when you looked back up, your eyes shining with glee.

You held a book out to him. “Check this one out!”

Bakugou just looked at you for a moment. “You know I can’t read that old-ass language - what did you call it again, English? People like you pick up the most useless skills.”

You shrugged, looking back at the book. “It’s useful for treasure hunting. And you know my lock-picking skills are excellent.” Tapping the cover, you added, “It’s a book of fairy tales.”

“Keh, children’s drivel,” Bakugou replied. “Sounds like it’ll be right up your alley.”

Ignoring him, you moved on to the next book. “And this one… ‘maps of the contiguous United States.’ Okay, this one is useless.”

Looking through the rest of the books, you deemed everything but the book of fairy tales unworthy. Holding out the book again, you asked, “How much?”

Bakugou scoffed. “You can have it. Can’t sell that shit anyway. Might as well give it to someone who’ll enjoy it.”

You beamed at him. “I’ll read it to the kids at the village in your honor.”

He shrugged, returning to his gun-cleaning. “If you must.”

Settling on the lid of one of the crates, you spent a moment looking at the movement of his shoulders again.

“Why don’t you ever come to the village? It’s safe there, and I’m sure your fighting experience would be appreciated. You don’t have to live by yourself.”

Baugou stopped for a moment, just staring at his hands, fingers flexing. “I don’t get along with people,” he finally said.

“You get along with me…”

“You’re an exception.”

You looked at the book again, fighting to keep the heat from rising in your cheeks from the unexpected compliment. Looking over the faded cover picture of five mice dancing around a cat, you then opened the book to the first tale.

“Want me to read it to you? It’ll let me practice reading for the kids.” 

He shrugged again. “If you want.”

You started reading, pausing on occasion to think of a good translation or to explain some archaic term. During one of these times, you noticed that Bakugou had stopped working. He was leaning on the counter, hands still, eyes soft and unfocused as he listened. 

He frowned, his eyes slipping back into focus. “Why’d you stop?”

“Just thinking.”

You continued reading, a smile blooming on your lips.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks (on and off anon) are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Em 💖

[the-last-panqueque]

Les traigo al trío rojo en el mundillo post apocalíptico o algo así en el que diseñé a Soviet hace un ratito XP, porque fue el que ganó en la encuesta de Insta UwU. Extrañaba hacer a Soviet, y hace rato que no dibujaba a Viet o China, así que ajá, aquí están yay! Espero que les gusten los diseñitos :3

-PQQ

[strange-aus-and-crossovers]

So I’ve seen and made countless AUs…but I have never seen a ghostbusters au where Gozer wins. I have remedied this. This is actually four AUs in one as in each au, each buster is the sole survivor of the busters in their universe. Gozer also destroyed their universes at different times during the first movie. Most of which stemmed from the company being shut down.

However this also took place flyer Gozer failed to destroy the main ghostbuster universe. As each universe has a different selector to choose the form of Gozer, each universe Gozer had a different form. As such he made SURE there was a survivor in each of these universes for revenge and delights in tormenting the last survivor. He has cursed them with a never ending life span as well, but they can sustain injury and they do not heal from said injuries either. That said, they all are fighters. Demons and ghosts overrun the world which while they cannot contain them as well…destroying them can hurt Gozer.

They also all do reunite with each other all from one of these new post Gozer destroyed worlds. But that’s a lil later. Also each buster was injured and disabled in some way, though all are physically fit.

So a little info on each buster under the cut. Keep in mind this is the SHORT version of the au. Also there’s talk of injuries, and it’s not like….gorey or bloody, but just in case that’s not your thing.

Egon’s ghostbusters company came to an end before they hired Winston, and was shut down by Walter Peck. He never got to meet Winston sadly. Winston was the selector in this universe, and the world was destroyed by a marine drill Sargent. Years after the world ended, a demon managed to get a good shot in and destroyed his neck. He can now no longer speak, or rather not without great effort and it is very painful. He does know sign language but he decided to put all of his effort into building the proton cannon as he was afraid of another demon getting that close again. He also cannot breathe all too well when he exerts himself so he relies on his mask a lot as well. He was the first one to grow tired of having a nothingness of a world and built a dimensional door…however it couldn’t really go very many places…so he basically had to take a shot in the dark….and that’s where he met Ray.

Ray’s came to an end after Winston was hired just after the Twinkie conversation. The selector was Egon and while in the original universe he thought of a mathematical equation…in this one he thought of the boogeyman. After he survived the attack, he began to fight back, but was overwhelmed by a swarm of ghosts and ended up losing one eye, and losing most of his vision in the other. For a few years he was working on goggles to help him see better, and mostly succeeded and also learned how to ghostbust blindly. A few years after, a demon took his left arm. But he had grown so used to being blind he managed to build multiple attachments to assist him. He is the only buster to fight closer. His whip, and club attachments are both able to have protonic energy run through them. Many years later, he encounters another universe’s Egon when he just…appeared. Though communicating was difficult as Egon couldn’t speak and Ray couldn’t see the see the sign language. But with Ray’s superior engineering know how….they can make a more portable dimension door creator. This is also how Egon finds out about Winston.

Peter’s was stopped at the Mayor’s. They made it all the way there but the mayor ultimately did not let the busters continue. Peck was the selector in Peter’s world. And his was more abstract as he was thinking about a ball of fire as he was looking up at the light from gozer’s arrival. The high heat burned Peter, but what it did more so was destroy a lot of his nerves that allowed him to feel. That’s right. Peter…can only really respond to pressure from touch. He cannot feel pain, temperature, or anything more than minor pressure from when he’s hit. He didn’t develop any new gear as he was never actively involved with any of it. He DID think Ray and Egon were hallucinations when they appeared. He was also a bit unsure how to communicate…as he didn’t know sign language, still he was happy to have two of his friends back.

Winston’s was the furthest along, all the way up at the gate. The boys were about to cross their streams when the gate threw out energy and knocked everyone but Winston off the building. The immense blast actually destroyed most of his hearing. He can hear but it is very faint. The selector in Winston’s world was Peter, and it was pretty embarrassing for Dana to destroy the world when they were actively trying to save her. After the initial attack he went back to the firehouse and found the dual pistol proton shooters Ray and Egon made for him. As he was taught a bit about the packs, he was able to attach them. He is the only buster to dual weild proton streams successfully. He happily hugged Peter, Ray, and Egon…though it was a bit more awkward when he found out Egon had never met him. But Winston did know sign thus giving both him and Egon a bit of a bridge to communicating, as he could translate for Egon and Egon could translate the world for Winston.

With the crew reunited they all decided to go to a new universe, but due to the nature of Gozer attacks and demon attacks….all of the busters are terrified of storms. Even storms in a universe not affected by Gozer. The storms on a place destroyed by Gozer both brought strong enemies, hid an approach of many enemies, or was a tell of a very powerful enemy that created the storm. That’s something they need to work on in the new universe. But in this new world they get a chance to save a world…once more.

[wlwinry]

The Bad Kids fail.

For the first time, the Bad Kids fail to stop an apocalypse. Porter ascends to godhood, draining Ankarna of most of her power. Fig is corrupted by rage. Fabian is sealed into crystal. All of Elmville is dragged to the astral plane as Porter claims the domain of war, and those who do not succumb to rage have to hide and hope for the chance to one day be allowed to return.

Except—

Except.

Ankarna isn’t dead. The remaining Bad Kids haven’t given up. Their allies are stronger than Porter knows, and he’s underestimated the person leading them for the last time.

If Porter wants a war so badly, Gorgug Thistlespring will give him one.

…

Gorgug makes an oath to Ankarna right before she dies, preventing her from falling. And does a little bit of resistance-leading in the six months that follow. You know, normal teenager stuff.

…

format sucks bc im not even on the app im on the website on my phone but anyways gorgug enjoyers here’s a paladin gorgug fic for you enjoy. with a side of post apocalypse

[bekkachaos]

🍂🍂💞💞

🍂 post apocalyptic buddie au

loosely based on the book all that's left in the world, it's the apocalypse, and Eddie stumbles across Buck after injuring himself. He just wants to get back on the road, but he kind of needs to accept Buck's help before he can do that.

Eddie let out a sigh, his leg was already throbbing just from the lightest pressure from before. As much as he hated to admit it, he really could do with a few days to rest it and make sure it was on the right path for healing before he went back out into the wild. A cabin like this was a far better alternative to the cold loneliness of the forest.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Just until it doesn't hurt to... breathe."

"Good," Buck said barely, and Eddie fought the urge to have the last word. "Well, if you want to get comfortable, did you want a shower?"

Eddie's features went slack and he looked back at Buck with his head tilted and raised a brow.

"A shower?" he asked incredulously, and the corner of Buck's mouth curled in a smile as he gestured up to the roof.

"Solar panels get me at least a few minutes of hot water," he said, and Eddie gave him probably the most genuine smile he'd done since they met.

"You should have led with that."

(tagging Meegs because she likes the apocalypse au 💕 @thelikesofus )

💞 the buddie soulmate au

You can't lie to your soulmate, so Eddie just doesn't lie. Because he doesn't ever want to know. If he does, it's just something else he stands to lose.

"You don't want to talk about this with me Eddie," Buck said, a hint of annoyance creeping into his features.

"Okay, you're going to have to tell me what I did here," Eddie folded his arms over his chest, his own frustration beginning to peak.

It looked like Buck shook his head, still refusing to meet Eddie's eyes.

"Because this," he gestured between the two of them before firmly tucking his arms back in. "This is not normal. You never shut me out like this. So tell me, what did I do?"

"It's not about anything you did Eddie," he said, tone exasperated.

"So you're just being a dick for what? Fun?" Buck narrowed his eyes back at him.

"You really have no idea why I might be putting distance between us?" he asked.

Eddie didn't answer him, he just looked back and felt a lump rising through his chest.

No, he thought as he swallowed it down, he couldn't say it, but he didn't want Buck to know.

"I want you to tell me what's wrong," he said instead, making Buck scoff.

"That's not an answer."

pick a wip, and make me write!

[diazsdimples]

buddietommy + post apocalyptic au? 👀

Oh HELL YEAH I love this so much okay

The apocalypse-level event was a virus (bc we are stereotypical here) and by some miracle, no one in the 118 (and Tommy) manages to avoid contracting it on Day Zero. Eddie, Tommy, and Buck are already established in a relationship when it happens, and they immediately hunker down in station 118 when they hear of the virus and the violence it causes. Eddie and Buck get hold of Tommy, who helicopters to the station.

Understandably, Eddie and Chimney are both very antsy because Maddie, Jee-Yun, and Christopher are all still out in the world. Buck volunteers to go out and find them - he knows where they all are, he just doesn't know how safe it is. Bobby sets him up with battalion truck and as many tools he can think of as weapons, some food from the cupboards, and Buck leaves to go find them. Before he goes, Eddie and Tommy take him aside and make him promise to be careful. They hold him tight, kissing him over and over until he leaves.

While Buck is gone, Eddie and Tommy are even more angsty. It's not usual for them to be separate, and they're both worried sick about Buck. There's still cell service but understandably, Buck isn't answering his phone. Sensing their nervous energy, Bobby puts Eddie and Tommy to task, and they, with the help of the other firefighters, begin to build a barricade around the station.

Buck is gone for three days. Cell service drops on Day One, meaning Eddie and Tommy have no way of contacting him. Eddie and Tommy spend their nights clinging to one another, trying their hardest to not come to the worst conclusion. There are a couple of scares on the Day Two with a few Infected trying to break into the Station, but they're dealt with (both Tommy and Eddie need a minute after this. It reminds them of the army). On the morning of Day Three, the boys have had enough and announce that they're going after Buck.

The world is the emptiest they've ever seen it and it's alarming. There aren't many places Buck could be, and they figure he's more than likely to be travelling along the main road between Maddie's place and Christopher's school, so that's their first port of call. They find the Battalion truck abandoned on the side of the road, but it's been very clearly stripped of it's amenities and the tyres have been slashed. It's pointing towards the direction of the station, though, so they figure Buck was making his way back, either with or without Maddie, Chris and Jee. They figure their best bet is to search off the road, and by some miracle, Eddie hears Jee's crying which alerts them to their location. Buck's ankle has an open fracture and he's looking pretty septic, and Maddie has had to care for Jee, Chris, and Buck, while trying to keep them away from Infected. Tommy and Eddie bring them back to the station, with a tense run in with an Infected, and there's an emotional reunion as they're finally all back together again. Hen sets Buck's ankle and manages to stitch him back together with Chimney and Eddie's help, and he begins his recovery with his boyfriends attending to his every need.

Send me an AU and I'll tell you what happens!

[shamrockqueen]

Predator in the desert

Chapter 2

Pairing : Winter Soldier BuckyxReader (Post Apocalyptic AU)

Warnings : R18, eventual smut, dark themes, panic attack

Word count : 1224

Bucky’s masterlist

He leaned on the frame of the doorway as he watched as your little body squirmed under his heavy gaze.

You searched his larger frame, every inch of which was dark and rigid. Your eyes lingered on the bottle, still held tightly between his fingers, the water inside moving only slightly back and forth against the glass.

You shook your head, trying to steer your vision back toward the imposing figure still standing ahead of you. Instead, it made a familiar feeling of pain bloom along the back of your skull. You winced, looking back at the bottle as you felt your drying tongue stick between your cracked lips. It was only a matter of whether the pain would outweigh your intense thirst. Clean water was more than a dream to you, and you put that dull ache at the back of your mind as you tried to form the words to beg for another drink.

The words cracked apart in the back of your throat, scraping past your lips inaudibly.

He must have known what you were alluding to, as he pushed off from the door and held the bottle out for you to take it from him.

“Have the rest.” His voice was just as jarring to hear as the very sight of him.

You didn’t hesitate to reach back out for the bottle, but as you struggled to sit up, your fingers were shaking as you took hold of it.

You broke your eyes from him to take another grateful swig, sucking in a few bubbles of air. You pulled the spout away to sputter for a breath, trying to force the gasping away so as to take another drink.

You cursed the few drops that dripped from your lips and hit the dusty blankets.

The cool feeling it left on your skin was numbing, and you hugged the bottle to your chest as you shuddered.

Breathing shallowly, you turned back to the man still watching you. His eyes never shifted from your pathetic form, and neither did his stance as he stood firm by the only door to this little room.

You swallowed back thickly before trying to speak again, this time with more success.

“Can I ask any questions?”

God only knows who this man is and why he was apparently keeping guard over something as small and insignificant as you. He hasn't shown himself to be trustworthy, but to share such a rare and expensive commodity with a stranger meant he had some level of kindness to give you.

He gave you as little as a nod of his head to answer your inquiry.

“How did I get here?” You spoke carefully, trying to still the tremor in your voice.

He was quiet as he slowly shifted in his heavy boots, his brow raising slightly as he seemed to think.

You persisted with a weak “P-please?”

He gave you a slow nod before answering.

“I found you. And then I carried you.” It was far too cut and dry for your liking.

He was the next to break the silence.

“How are you feeling?”

It wasn’t something you expected him to ask, and it took you a second to register that he’d said it in the first place.

You rubbed at the sore spot at the back of your head as he waited for your answer.

“I’m fine. Thank you for the water.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie, as you certainly weren’t dead, and you made sure to be quick to thank him for the good deeds he’s done for you so far.

You tried to stand so as to hand him back the empty bottle. You swung your legs over the bed only to be stopped by something weighing unnervingly heavy on your weak ankle. He didn’t even flinch as you tried to plant your feet to the ground, only to hear the deafening clunk of a thick metal chain hitting the floor alongside your toes.

He nodded to your previous display of gratitude before giving you a barely audible “you're welcome” and taking the bottle back.

For the first time in your life, you felt cold. It was like your blood had frozen in your very veins as your eyes shot back to the still-steely face. As a few fresh tears welled up and threatened to spill, you looked down at the metal cuff that sat tightly locked around your ankle.

You struggled to breathe, cupping your hand over your mouth as a silent sob wracked through your chest.

His charity, more obvious now than ever, was in fact a farce. It's another question entirely as to how you even missed something so major in the first place.

You continued to gasp and sputter over the sight of a shackled leg. Your shoes and socks had been missing, leaving you to stare at your dirty toes.

His expression never changed as he watched the gears in your desperate little brain spin. You grabbed the chair, following the length with your fingers until it was pulled tawt to where it was hooked to one of the metal rungs at the bottom of the bed.

Your head was pounding harder and harder as your vision flooded over again. It blurred his image as he approached you, and you didn’t realize you’d started screaming until he finally rang over the pulsing in your eardrums.

When his hands met your shoulders, you threw yourself off the bed. You kicked at the sheets, falling backwards towards the floor until the wood met your shoulder.

You were a whirlwind of emotion, and he was a silent tiger standing at the edge of the monsoon.

You crawled, clawing at the floor, your limbs moving of their own accord from the waves of panic. You weren’t making it far, struggling like a dying fish in the sand but never reaching the water.

He planned to keep you, of course. Why would there have been any other assumption?

You were a captive, whether that meant for his company, labor, or food.

He remained unbothered by your turmoil, stepping past the wriggling chain and planting each booted foot on either side of your body. Still, in vain, you tried to crawl away. Even as he reached down and locked his hands around your shoulders, you scratched at the floor until he pulled you off of it.

You first saw the flint of dim light bouncing off that metal bicep as he raised you towards his own chest. It was like you weighed nothing more than a small parcel as he pulled you back towards the bed, your feet not even touching the floor anymore.

Your joints felt rigid and your limbs heavy as he hooked his hand under your knee before depositing you back into the bed.

You felt the world spinning as it became blurrier. The air around your head grew thinner and thinner as you fought for each breath.

His thumb was cold against your skin as he pressed it against your check. His fingers cradled the side of your face. You stayed conscious; even as your vision dimmed, you still clawed at the bedding below you.

What came next left you shaken. His voice was actually booming around the little room as he spoke in a commanding tone.

"You need to calm down."

Chapter 3

TagList : @itsswritten @cjand10 @dear-lolita @took-a-wr0ng-turn

[womeninfictionandirl]

Brienne of Tarth (Post-Apocalyptic AU) by Giorgio Baroni

[amybizarre]

Character Design P2

I think I'll just put Post Apocalyptic Wally into a big comfy sweater with a dress shirt underneath, keeping the classic blue and yellow colors of the OG cardigan.

There's just one question tough-

Striped sweater or trimmed sweater? (The pics below are rough sketches of the ideas)

[plague-of-insomnia]

The Glue That Binds Us - A Post-Apocalyptic Sebardagni Story

↱ Read on AO3 ↰

Rating: T | Words: 2867 | Pairing: Sebardagni

Summary: The world ended years ago. Bard, Sebastian, and Agni have managed to eke out a meager existence in a remote mountain cabin homestead they share. But due to Sebastian's chronic illness, Bard has to spend more and more time apart from his lovers in order to seek out any medicine to treat Sebastian's condition. The long separation puts stress on the trio. Ultimately, they are happy together despite the state of the human world because they've found each other.

Reblogs appreciated as always!

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[v-thinks-on]