#post zombie apocalypse world with BETRAYAL
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Oh hey it's one of mandarou's works! Mandarou's dishonor series is one of my favorite fics of all time. Like the first part is a really good modern Bucky, funny with some angst and smut, and then the second fic punches it into the fucking stratosphere.
A Captain America: the First Avenger Timeline for Fic Writers
(Iām so sorry I erased the original post Iļæ½ļæ½M SO SORRY!Ā You can read this without the visual aids on AO3.)
March 10, 1917 - James Buchanan Barnes is born, and we were all officially fucked.
July 4, 1918 - Steven Grant Rogers is born, and somewhere in Brooklyn Buckyās mother wept ā¦
June, 1924 - Steveās mother is bedridden from illness associated with Tuberculosis.
September, 1930 - 12-year old Steve and 13-year old Bucky meet for the first time in Hellās Kitchen, where Bucky scares off bullies trying to steal Steveās money. What were they doing in Hellās Kitchen? No one knows. Steve tells Bucky heās been living in the orphanage āon 8thā since his motherās death. Which is odd since Bucky was apparently at her funeral when theyāre both legal adults in a flashback scene from the Winter Soldier. For the purpose of this timeline, info from the movies will take precedent over info from the various tie-ins. Meaning Sarah Rogers is basically Schrƶdingerās Ma for the next 6 years.
Keep reading
#i keep hoping someday she will put up that last chapter or two#the story is mostly done it's not a cliffhanger or anything#riyl:#characters meeting the actors who play them#canon bucky vs evil steve#everyone is cowboys#post zombie apocalypse world with BETRAYAL#god i love that second fic so much#stucky fic recs#mcu fic recs
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CALL OF DUTY MASTERLIST
Requests are open!! Make sure to read the rules for requests in my pinned post before requesting!!
Number of requests currently: 5 (whoa wtf)
Everything is (sort of) arranged in chronological order of posting.
Personal favorites are in bold!
If you wish to see my other works, here's a link to my jjk masterlist and to my ao3 profile.
You can also support me on kofi.
Created - 26.08.2023
Last updated - 30.10.2024
HEADCANONS
Fantasy AU with Valeria! - Fluff, SFW
Platonic!TF141 x Eastern European!Reader - Fluff, SFW
Roommate!John āSoapā Mactavish x Reader - Fluff, SFW
FICS
Night time bonding || Simon āGhostā Riley x Gn!Reader - Fluff, SFW
Summary - You have a hard time falling asleep. Ghost has the same problem.
Simon āGhostā Riley x Reader smut drabble - NSFW
Summary - The title is pretty self-explanatory.
Hush || Simon āGhostā Riley x Gn!Reader - Slight angst, fluff, SFW (requested)
Summary - Different situations where reader and Ghost hug because heās too afraid to say āi love youā at the moment, but both of you know what his hugs mean.
Take us back || Zombie AU || Kyle āGazā Garrick x Gn!Reader - Angst, gore, mcd
Summary ā The new world was rotten, and you rotted away with it.Ā
Every time, I fall for you || Kyle āGazā Garrick x Gn!Reader - Fluff, suggestive
Summary - Kyle fell for you hard, but he doesnāt know if itās mutual.
Double vision || John āBravo 0-6ā Price x Paramedic!Gn!Reader (requested) - Fluff, SFW
Summary - John gets into a car crash on his leave and meets you - a cute paramedic who instantly attracts his attention.
I don't care what's in your hair || Roommate!John 'Soap' Mactavish x Gn!Reader - SFW, Fluff, Teasing, Friendly banter
Summary ā Your roommate Johnny comes back after his deployment and his hair looks like it needs a little trimming.
Big guy || Simon āGhostā Riley x Gn!Reader - SFW, fluff
Summary ā Ghost takes a liking to the nickname you give him, but struggles to understand just how much he likes it.
Closer || Slasher!Simon āGhostā Riley x M!Reader - Dark themes, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat (requested)
Summary - You hear various dark rumors from your colleagues and you donāt believe them, until there is one particular ghost looking you right in the eye.
Lost and found || Zombie AU || Parental figure!Simon āGhostā Riley x Kid!Reader - Platonic, Found family, Hurt/Comfort, Parenting
Summary - You both were lost in this new world, but at least you had each other to lean on. Or tales of how Simon Riley deals wit being a parental figure during the zombie apocalypse.
Something for your mind || Platonic!John āBravo 0-6ā Price x Reader (requested) - Angst
Summary - Task Force 141 mourned your loss when you went MIA during one of the missions, however eventually you come back, but not in the way one would think of.
Gentle || Roommate!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader - SFW, Fluff
Summary - Youāve been having a rough week, but your roommate Simon is there to help you through it.
SERIES
Out of the shadows || Simon āGhostā Riley x Shadow!Gn!Reader - Slight angst, action, SFW
Summary ā After the betrayal of Task Force 141 and the slaughter of civilians in Las Almas you decide to leave Shadow Company on the spot, which works out sideways, leaving you with simmering hate towards the man whom you used to look up to and new interesting figures in your life.Ā
First step. - Where you cut ties with Shadows.
Second step. - WIP
Third step. - WIP
RANDOM THOUGHTS
Price, whoās down bad for his spouse
What if there was a cure to the zombie virus? (āTake us backā fic related)
Slasher!Ghost
WIPS
Watching her fade away || Hanahaki AU || Platonic!Task Force 141 x F!Reader (requested) - SFW, Angst
Ticklish || Poly!Task Force 141 x F!Reader (requested) - NSFW
Forwards, beckon, rebound || Zombie AU || Parental figure!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Kid!Reader (requested) - SFW, Fluff
Rotten roots || Platonic!Task Force 141 x Reader (requested) - SFW, Hurt/Comfort
With you for the last time || Task Force 141 x Reader (requested) - SFW, Angst, Hurt/No comfort
#call of duty#call of duty mwii#cod mwii#cod mw2#call of duty x reader#modern warfare ii#gaz x reader#ghost x reader#soap x reader#price x reader#tf141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#valeria x reader#valeria garza x reader#simon ghost riley x gn!reader#simon ghost riley x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#simon riley x reader#captain price x reader#john price x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x gn!reader#call of duty fanfic#cod mw2 x reader#mw2 2022#modern warfare 2#masterlist
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MY AO3 MASTERLIST
Multichapter Fics
youāll always be a dumb blonde. (completed)
Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka
Notable Tags: Grooming, Angst With A Happy Ending, Suicidal Thoughts, Physical Abuse
Summary: Enid is manipulated by Thornhill instead of Tyler, and her world is flipped upside down when Wednesday Addams comes into the picture. Season 1 rewrite full of angst, betrayal, and wenclair (with some fluff thrown in).
60/60 š 151,251
youāre the eye of my storm (ongoing)
Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka
Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, enemies to friends to lovers, Minor Character Death
Summary: Wednesday was used to being alone in the post-apocalyptic world of the US. But what happens when she runs into a stubborn blonde girl that will change her life forever?
22/? š 43,345
the red means i love you (ongoing)
Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair
Notable Tags: Dark Wednesday Addams, Blood and Violence, Obsessive Love, Emotional Manipulation, Angst, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat
Summary: Enid dies from her injuries after the fight with Tyler, and Wednesday is determined to bring her back.
15/? š 42,639
shadows of the wasteland (ongoing)
Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka
Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - Dystopia
Summary: Wednesday Addams' father is killed and marked as a traitor and she desperately needs to know why. She finds herself venturing outside of the walls that protect her city and into the unknown for answers after a run-in with her fellow classmate, Enid Sinclair, leads to leaks of government information that was hidden behind endless locks.
39/? š 109,656
backstabber (completed)
Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka
Notable Tags: Wenclair Is Endgame, Sexual Assault, Underage Drinking, Minor Character Death
Summary: Wednesday Addams begins dating Tyler Galpin right after her and Enid break up. But things quickly begin to reveal themselves on Enid's 18th birthday. Not everything is as it seems.
20/20 š 32,620
Polarization (ongoing)
Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka
Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - Detectives, Discrimination, Hate Crimes
Summary: FBI Special Agent Enid Sinclair is put on a serial killing case that quickly becomes personal and dangerous. With the nation's politics already hanging in the balance due to the tension between outcasts and normies, this might just be what tips the pot. Assigned as her partner in the lab is Doctor Wednesday Addams, a forensic anthropologist specializing in criminal justice and the lead forensic scientist of the forensics team. It becomes apparent when the two meet that they are vastly different. Complete opposites, even. They begrudgingly find a way to work together as a society of terrorists threatens the outcasts' existence.
8/? š 31,809
fall back into place (ongoing)
Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of VIolence
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka, Kent/Ajax Petropolus
Notable Tags: Inspired By Life Is Strange, Alternate Universe - Life Is Strange, Underage Drug Use, Underage Drinking
Summary: Wednesday, a high school senior, is sent to Nevermore, a private school with good credentials that can get her into an impressive college for photography and writing. A month into the school year, a string of events beginning with a familiar face being shot in a school bathroom leads her down a path of investigating time rewind powers, holes in her timeline, disappearances and murders, and people being drugged.
But the hardest part of being a hero (whether you want it or not) is realizing you canāt save everyone.
5/? š 16,278
i'll follow you into the dark (ongoing)
Archive Warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair
Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - Fear Street Fusion, Inspired By Fear Street, Alternate Universe - Horror
Summary: Wednesday Addams hates this town with her whole being. Almost as much as she hates Enid Sinclair, her now ex-girlfriend, who somehow managed to escape the clutches of Shadyside. But when undead killers begin to chase after Wednesday, Enid, and their friends, she soon uncovers there's more to this town than just bad luck, and there's more to her feelings for Enid than just pure hate.
6/? š16,813
when summer fades to fall (ongoing)
Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair, Divina/Yoko Tanaka
Notable Tags: Wenclair Is Endgame, Enemies To Lovers, Project Partner
Summary: Enid Sinclair happens to fall face first into the strongest force on campus; Wednesday Addams. But sometimes people change, just as the seasons do.
4/? š 10,532
Oneshots
you hold the key(s) to my heart
Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair
Notable Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Pianist Wednesday Addams, Pianist Enid Sinclair
Summary: Enid, a well-versed piano player, plans to spend more time with her roommate and crush, Wednesday Addams, under the guise of needing piano lessons.
š 5,758
Green Skin
Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid sinclair
Notable Tags: Right Person Wrong Time, Break Up, Getting Back Together
Summary: Maybe it was just the wrong time for them. Maybe if they met again, when Enid had settled into a stable and scheduled life. Maybe when Wednesdayās rambunctiousness had wavered. Maybe.
š 3,305
No Other Heart Will Do
Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair
Notable Tags: Not Actually Unrequited Love, 5+1 Things
Summary: 5 times Wednesday Addams didn't kiss Enid Sinclair, and the 1 time she did.
š 7,193
Nightmares and Scars
Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair
Notable Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Scars, Wednesday Addams is Soft for Enid Sinclair
Summary: When Enid wakes up sobbing in the middle of the night, Wednesday takes it upon herself to reassure her closest companion.
š 2,843
In Every Universe
Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair
Notable Tags: Alternate Universe, Inspired by The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, Inspired by Fear Street (1666), Inspired by Life is Strange, Inspired by The Hunger Games.
Summary: Wednesday Addams and Enid Sinclair are wound together with the red string of fate. They will find each other in every universe, over and over again.
š 1,726
Bad Ideas
Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair
Notable Tags: Aged-Up Character(s), Smut, Sexual Tension, Blood Kink, Degradation Kink, Switch Wednesday Addams, Switch Enid Sinclair, Smoking, Drinking
Summary: Enid Sinclair finds herself immediately enamored with Wednesday Addams, a girl that goes to a different college than her. The two of them begin getting to know each other, and Enid quickly learns that sheās not the only one that had been thinking about the two of them together.
š 8,657
from the start
Archive Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Ships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair
Notable Tags: Love Confessions, First Kiss, Pride, Wenclair Pride Event, Lesbian Enid Sinclair, Enidsexual Wednesday Addams
Summary: When Wednesday begrudgingly agrees to go to their friends' pride party with Enid, Enid decides (with a little help from their friends) that it's finally time to buck up and tell Wednesday how she feels.
š 4,157
#wenclair#wednesday#wednesday addams#enid sinclair#netflix#wednesday x enid#enid x wednesday#wlw#lgbtq#writers on tumblr#wednesday fanfic#ao3 fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3 writer#ao3#wednesday netflix#writing#writerscommunity#my wips
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Ā·Ė ą¼āĀ· ĶĶĶĶź°ā³ A BRIEF WIPS OVERVIEW.
Hello! I am not good with deadlines, especially when I set them myself. This post was supposed to be up three days ago, but itās finally here! Iām very excited to share these projects as they were all created from different periods of my life, going back four years at the most.
These will be very short intros, but each WIP mentioned here will have a proper, detailed post when itās time. The projects also arenāt listed in sequential order of when Iāll post about them with the exception of the first WIP.
A heads-up, most of these are romance since I used to write only romance. It was only about two years ago since I decided to finally branch out, and those stories will be coming soon! For now, I still have to figure out how to write characters that have a way higher IQ than I doā¦
On we go to the WIPs!
WHEN ART TALKS
ā currently undergoing the first draft. ā first person ā a college romance where a reserved poet who is afraid of public perception connects with an outspoken musician due to their preference on using words as their art medium. ā contains late night walk convos, cigarette smoking, passionate rambles, and microwaved meals. ā āāWhy do we care about them when itās our story to tell? We live our truth, we speak our truth, and we have to trust that itās good enough because itās all we got. The message will be received by those who are meant to hear it.āā
BLIND SECOND CHANCES
ā currently undergoing the first draft. ā dual first person ā an adult romance in which ex-friends turned (unofficial) ex-lovers from high school decide to explore the old feelings that resurface when crossing paths eight years later. ā lots of reminiscing, betrayal, weekly wine nights, and fancy dates. ā āāYouāre holding onto a love from a situation where we didnāt even know our place in the world yet. We spent nearly eight years growing into the people we are now, so you need to be prepared for our dynamic to look and feel different because we arenāt the same kids we once were.āā
TO NEW BEGINNINGS
ā brainstorming complete, drafting to begin soon. ā third person, still deciding on the type ā an adult romance story of a woman who decides itās time to start over on a blank canvas, and meets a booked and busy workaholic along the way. ā roller skating, painting, solo adventures, and plant shopping. ā āāItās scary to deviate from your current life and start anew when your life no longer serves you or your purpose. But Iām not equipped for misery, so Iāll be damned trying to save a life that lost the chance of saving forever ago.āā
UNTITLED ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE
ā currently a 3am one-liner, brainstorming begins soon ā pov to be determined, leaning towards third person limited. ā an apocalyptic fiction where a teenage girl fights everyday to survive in an ongoing zombie apocalypse with hopes of finding her younger sister. ā found family, zombie slaying, survival vs. morality, and, uhā¦ death. ā āShe looked at every colorless home she walked by and wondered what stories could be told. What every stored memory that slipped through the cracks consisted of and the emotions theyād provoke. If the lives that once occupied these spaces were unfortunately fortunate enough to make it out like she did. If they constantly watched the memories flash before their eyes as they realized those would be the last batch of joyful, painless memories; how remembering became torturous and insufferable, but is all they have to remind them of their own humanity.ā
UNTITLED TWISTED BONNIE & CLYDE
ā currently a 3am one-liner, brainstorming begins soon ā first person peripheral or third person limited ā a dark and twisted romance where two toxic lovers are at the beginning of an inevitable end and play fire with fire the entire way through. ā manipulation, heists, lies, and expensive jewelry. ā āThe venom drips off of every word she says. She watches every last drop seep into my skin and become one with the blood that runs through my veins. How it attempts to shut down my body in hopes that Iāll beg for mercy in my final moments of weakness. That Iāll surrender my life into her hands as those soulless and apathetic eyes beam with some sick and twisted excitement. But I am sick and twisted too. We are two bodies wrapped in the same snake skin, and a snake cannot get poisoned by its own venom.ā
PAST LIFE LOVER
ā redoing the brainstorm process ā first person or objective third person (quote will be in third person) ā a soulmate, young adult romance in which a girl who no longer believes in love suddenly gets pulled in by the new barista at her favorite hangout spot. ā love at first sight, breakfast deliveries, denial, and baking. lots of baking. ā āThen there it was. The locking of the eyes where the inability to look away grows more and more intense with each passing second. They didnāt even know each other, but something in their eyes told them that there was a home waiting for them within each otherās souls.ā
ANGEL AND KEN*
ā currently on the backburner, brainstorming resumes once past life lover is complete. ā prequel to past life lover. ā *very much a temporary title ā first person or objective third person ā a 50ās historical romance where a pessimistic single mother is convinced to see the greener side of the grass by a jazz musician who looks at life through a rose-colored lens. ā jazz clubs, slow dancing, tea parties, and red corvettes ā āāWhy shut yourself out from the world when there are people like me that have waited for you to waltz right into their life? I know, the modern day world is frightening and filled with so much hatred that itās hard to find happiness through it all. But people find a purpose to wake up every morning because of that one person that casts the brightest light. Youāre my sun in a world full of darkness, and I hope to be the moon that reflects your light when youāre no longer visible in the sky.āā
I know I keep saying it, but I truly canāt wait to properly share these projects. I just hope everyone will enjoy reading it all and find comfort within these characters :)
I will post the the detailed summary for When Art Talks either on Monday or Tuesday (please yell at me if i donāt follow through omg), and the character intros should follow closely behind!
divider creds to strangergraphics ā”
#writeblr#my wips#wip introduction#wip intro#writing wip#authors#writing#creative writing#original stories#writers on tumblr#original fiction#writing community
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Never a dull moment in this fandom
@chikooritajjk
Do you see how petty industry players are?????
It's been how long since JK made those comments under Polyc?????
Now imagine if any girl or boy felt slighted in the least by these boysš¤£
Mijoo tried to ruin lives and she wasn't even in the pictureš¤£š¤£š¤£š¤£š¤£š¤£š¤£š¤£š¤£
Now- imagine if Jungkook was pulling Vmin side by sideš³
WORLD WAR ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE ššššš
Jimin look like he'd post v's unwashed briefs with ass juice streaks in the bottomš¤§
V will definitely post videos of Jimin with uneven facial hair while he farts in his sleep š„²
I feel bad for this tattoo artist.
Any hate he gets is unwarranted and uncalled for- no one knows what happened ya know. But I can understand his plight.
Artists depend on reviews for the survival of their business. And it's not like people get tattoos every single day. Especially for a conservative place like SK.
One bad review can be really bad for business.
Not to mention all these people who'd make fun of him cos he lost BTS's business.
From one artist to another, I feel his pain.
At least they could have gone to him for their friendship tattoos too š
He tagged the post betrayal and misspelled Jungkook
That's a whole other level of petty š¤£ š
No but why even tag JK he wasn't in the post siršš¤£
Now, jikook yalls wrong for thisšššš¤£š¤£š¤£š¤£
Not nice, my gays. Not very slay of yall
We still love you though š
Sorry Ahjassišššššššš
Must hurt like a bitchšššššššš
I'll let you tattoo Jimin on my left tittie and call it even š„“š„“š„“š„“
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Chapter 1, chapter 2, and chapter 3 are up now! (7,638 words)
All chapters are now up!!
Read it here on AO3: The Last Strange Thing
Rate: Explicit (violence, gore, and s*x)
Read tags under the cut for warnings, and details.
Welcome to the apocalypse. The demo-infection has taken hold of the world, and humans are a rare thing these days. Still, people hang on to civilization in pockets across North America and beyond. Hawkins is one such place.Ā Steve Harrington is a scout who runs missions for Hawkins, and on one of those missions, he becomes separated from his scouting partner, Robin. He has to find his way across Indianapolis in an infected world, meeting one very important individual on the way, Eddie. The two of them must trust one another in order to journey across Indiana, while perhaps finding something softer to nurture with one another along the way.
The journey is full of romance, death, action, and suspense. This is a "The Last of Us" alternate universe. This work is 100% completed, and I will be posting each chapter between now and April 7. Prepare yourself for approximately 52k of action, horror, romance, supernatural happenings, and love.
@llamalpaca will be posting some VERY COOL accompanying art that inspired this WHOLE PIECE! So be sure to give them a follow and check out that art piece when it drops in April. Look at it here!!!
Big thank you to @knormalizeknitting for being my beta reader!
Link to the Monster Reference Guide, here.
Censoring the word s*x so tumblr doesn't get mad at me. Please don't tag with NSFW or other such tags. The post itself is not inappropriate, but I want people who are going to read the fic to be aware of what is there.
Additional Tags: action, romance, hurt/comfort, alternate universe, The Last of Us AU, canon divergence, apocalypse, apocalypse au, body horror, gore, blood, animal and human death, excessive force (weapons), level of violence and graphic nature of imagery that aligns with Stranger Things, dead dove donāt read, dead dove donāt eat, smut, nsfw, frotting, handjob, happy ending, zombies, zombie apocalypse, steddie, stobin, platonic stobin, Steve and Robin are best friends, Steve and Robin are platonic soulmates, slow burn, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, miscommunication, misunderstanding, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson, betrayal.
#my_writing#eddie munson#steddie#steve harrington#stranger things#steddie fic#The last of us#TLOU#Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang 2024#stobin#robin buckley
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elegies | k.th
pairing: Taehyun x Beomgyu genre: angst, apocalypse!au warnings: cursing, character death, mentions of blood and guns, zombies word count: 7.1k notes: ā this is the second rewrite I'm posting here of this story! you can find the original and the first rewrite linked below :) As the world around him falls, Taehyun keeps moving on.
Lavender MistĀ | the things we lost along the way |Ā TXT Masterlist
Kai disappears in the middle of the night, and all he leaves behind is a note.Ā
Iām sorry. But everyoneās leaving and I have to leave first or youāll leave me too.
Donāt look for me.Ā
Thatās it. Thatās all, the culmination of nearly twenty years of friendshipāfamiliarly messy handwriting scribbled in fading pen on a scrap of dirty paper, fingerprints of dirt smeared on the edges. Itās still in Taehyunās backpack, crumpled so much by now itās unreadable, but it doesnāt matter. He couldnāt forget those three sentences if he tried.Ā
Iām sorry.Ā
Taehyunās sorry, too. Because for all the betrayal of Kaiās disappearanceāhe chose to leave, chose to vanish, chose to leave Taehyun behind in this shell of a world when theyāve been best friends for so longāTaehyun wonders if things would have happened the same way if heād been more observant. Less consumed in his own grief. Able to see Kai,Ā reallyĀ see him in the days after Yeonjun and Soobin left. Would the blank of Kaiās silences have managed to permeate the dull static of his own thoughts. Would Kai have come to him? Would he have been convinced to stay?
They look for him anyway, Taehyun and Beomgyu both. The undead roam and the sun burns fierce, but even as the heat sloughs off his skin and the faces of the undead haunt his sleep, Taehyun canāt stop,Ā wonātĀ stop, even when Beomgyu lays a hand on his arm and says with his eyes that Kai isnāt coming back.Ā
Because he canāt be gone. Not like this. Itās justāa cruel joke. It has to be. Taehyun searches every house and sees Kai hiding behind every corner. He ventures into abandoned subways to find Kai walking out of an old train. He wanders the earth in a daze, seeing Kai everywhere and nowhere, and heās gone but he canāt be he wonāt believe Kai canāt be gone he canāt be goneĀ I need to find himā
Then an undead lurches out of a gas station bathroom and nearly takes a chunk out of Beomgyu, and Taehyun remembers he still has someone to lose.
So he opens his eyes. Blinks away the visions of Kai that haunt the corner of his eyesight, and forces himself to see the world beyond the blank space that Kai left when he disappeared. There is still someone here. Someone left. Someone with himāwho stayed even after Kai chose to leave, who still cares for Taehyun, miraculously, even after weeks and months of neglect.Ā And so they move on. As five minus two minus one.Ā
So itās something of a fucked up joke when Kai returns.Ā
. . . . .
He appears as a shadow in the corner of Taehyunās eye. Another hallucination, Taehyun thinks at first. A mirage in the heat shimmers rising from the sunbaked ground. He turns away, ready to ignore it, but then Beomgyu gasps, too.Ā
āKai.ā
Taehyun blinks, and thereās his friend standing in the sun, staring back with shattered eyes.
Everything in Taehyun screams to sprint forward, to grab Kai and shake him and hug him and punch him hard. Sob a garbled mix of something likeĀ fuck youĀ andĀ how did you find usĀ andĀ Iām so glad youāre backĀ andĀ what happened to youā
But then he sees the black veins creeping up Kaiās neck, and he knows.
āTaehyun.ā Kaiās familiar voice cracks on the syllables of his name, but his shattered eyes are clear, so clear.Ā He doesnāt move, but Taehyun has to fight the urge to step back. āPlease.ā
Please. His head spins. The world is static and only Kaiās bruised face is clear.Ā Please.Ā What theĀ hellĀ is he asking forā
Bulging pupils drop to the gun at his side, and Taehyun understands.Ā
āNo.Ā No.ā He shakes his head, takes the step back. āNo, noāKaiāIĀ canātāā
āPlease,ā Kai whispers again. āFor me.ā
Solid in the haze of the sun and the moment, Beomgyuās hand makes its way to Taehyunās shoulder.Ā He barely feels it, almost doesnāt even remember anyone exists but Kai and him, but he does hear when Beomgyuās whisper flutters past the static and into his ear. āYou donāt have to.ā
AndĀ heās right. Because Taehyun doesnātĀ haveĀ toāin the strictest definition of the word. He doesnāt have to raise the gun, put Kai out of his misery the way Kai wants him to. The world will move on if he doesnāt. He could turn around and walk away and nothing would be any different.Ā
Besides, Kai was the one who left first.Ā
Butāheās also wrong.Ā Because Kaiās been bitten and if he doesnāt die, heāll live forever in the worst way possible. Because if Taehyun does turn away, heāll be condemning Kai to a fate theyāve both agreed is worse than death. Because Kai is still his best friend, no matter what, and who is Taehyun to resist a dying boyās last wish? What is he, really, if he doesnāt?
Taehyunās hands are cold. He doesnāt shrug off Beomgyuās grip, but he does shake his head. āNo,ā he replies, numb fingers wrapping around the barrel of the gun. āNo, I do.ā
Kai stares up at Taehyun as he readies the weapon, cracked glass eyes almost whole as a little smile glimmers on his face. āThanks,ā he whispers, and in that moment, Taehyun canāt do it. Wonāt do it. This Kai looks too much like the old one, the one with a bright smile and a dolphin screech laugh and dark eyes that glittered with mischiefā
Dark eyes marred, now, by those bulging black veins crawling across bruised, burnt skin.Ā
Almost on reflex, Taehyun pulls the trigger. Bang.
And what remains of Kai slumps over, blood and brains pooling in a deep red puddle on the dusty ground.Ā
Taehyun stands there for a while. A second, a minute, an hourāheās not sure. Itās cold and itās hot and the world is hazy and he canāt move, canāt tear his gaze away from the remnants of his best friend.
āTaehyun.ā
When he finally reacts to his name, Beomgyu has definitely said it more than once. His grip has tightened on Taehyunās shoulder but when Taehyun finally twitches, the rough-soft hand loosens, slides down to his wrist. āCome on,ā Beomgyu says quietly, tugging slightly. āWe need to go.ā
Blood and brains, still open eyes. A smile.Ā
Taehyun doesnāt move.Ā
āTaehyun.ā The grip tightens. āLetās go.ā
Go. Letās go.
āTaehyun.ā
He forces his eyes away from the bloody hole blown into Kaiās head. Vaguely, he feels the gun being peeled out of his hand, hears the safety clicking back on. Beomgyu tugs at his arm again and with a final whisper of his name Taehyun follows, numbly, Kaiās bloody face all he can see.Ā
. . . . .
How do you remember the dead?Ā
Itās a question Taehyun hasnāt been able to answer in the months since the outbreak, when the initial slew of bodies filled the streets and his parents never came home. He could have answered beforeāsmiles immortalized in picture frames, voices in videos taken on phones with the recorder laughing behind the camera. But the internet is gone now and with it the hundreds of thousands of memories people left stored in the cloud. Photos are easily crumpled, even those tucked into plastic sleeves eventually ruined by rain or dotted with dust and dirt, and the time it takes to properly sketch and color a scene to remember is a luxury no one can afford anymore. Itās not as if Taehyun ever had the skill for it anyway.Ā
Memory, then. The duty of the human mind. But the brain is a fickle thingāimperfect, messy, jumbled and imprecise compared to the printed photos he once held in his pocket and backpack, the pictures and videos he had saved on his phone. It remembers what he wishes it wouldnāt and lets go of what he holds most dear. The voices of his family, his friends. Their smiles, their laughs. Ghosts, now, all of themāso faint and pale compared to the horrors that haunt him now. These are the things that leave.Ā
Kaiās bloody face is one of the things that stays.Ā
It haunts him in the days after, that vision of a bloody smile. Beomgyuās gasp, the black veins creeping up Kaiās face, spasms of pain ruining the angelic picture his friend had once been. The gun barrel between his hands, the broken look in Kaiās eyes, a whispered plea for a mercy that only he could grant. The whole moment is so vivid in the way Kaiās last smiles arenāt. It isnāt right. It isnāt fair.Ā
Life isnāt fair, his parents had told him in the past about things like broken crayons and strict teachers.Ā Move on, and let go.Ā And maybe, in the old world, he could have taken that advice. But they werenāt there to see the world crumble. They werenāt there to watchĀ Taehyun take his first undead life at the ripe age of nineteen, his first real life weeks later. They werenāt there when the ropes at which he could grasp in this swirling ocean of a desert frayed and snapped, when the world took everything and everyone away and left him behind. They werenāt there to watch their son shoot his best friend in the face.Ā
How do you move on when thereās nothing to move on to?
Life isnāt fair. Taehyun hates his parents for leaving him with that, and loves them for not knowing better. What a luxury it would be to have been left behind in the strange world of before, of neon lights and supermarkets and the ability to store laughs on the cloud, never to face this new earth full of monsters only before seen in nightmares. Heās grateful they didnāt have to see what heās become. He resents that they left him to figure this out alone. He prays that their lives ended as painlessly that they could have. He cries when it hits him, over and over and over, that heāll never see them again.Ā
Move on, and let go.Ā
He's so glad they died in a world where that was the best advice they could have given, and hates them for not living long enough to give him something better.Ā
(What would his parents say if they knew what he had done? What words would they have given him to live off of?)
(Would there be anything to say at all?)
So Taehyun doesnāt move on. Canāt. Becauseāhe needs to know. How do you reconcile the horrors of now with the joy of the past, keep the memories of the dead alive without seeing their bloody faces every minute? He canāt remember Kaiās laugh or his music, not when his mind wonāt stop playing that moment on loop, a faint smile, a whispered thanks, a sharp bang and the remnants of Kaiās body falling, falling, falling to the groundā¦
Five days after he pulls the trigger, Beomgyu finally begins to tell him.
āTheyāre still with us.ā
Taehyun isnāt sure why thatās what brings him out of this half lucid stupor. Vaguely, he understands that Beomgyu has been talking to him for a while. Talking at him, at least, because he definitely hasnāt been responding. But for some reason he hears that sentence, fully registers it, and though there must be some context he doesnāt have the constant aching grief catches fire in his chest and all he can think isĀ how dare you, how dare you, how fucking dare you try to say that to me nowā
āHow do you know?ā He has Beomgyuās dirty shirt in his grip, the older boy looking up at him with eyes wide in confusion, surprise, burgeoning anger of his own. āHow do you fucking know?Ā How could you say that to me, how could you try and say that afterĀ I killed him with my own handsāā
And then his eyes begin to burn. And the tears begin to fall. And the fire dies as soon as it blazed, melted under the weight of Beomgyuās words, and heās crying, sobbing, his grip on Beomgyuās shirt gone as every tear he hasnāt been able to shed over the death of everyone he loved releases itself from the broken remnants of his soul, and heās crying, and crying, andĀ cryingā
Beomgyuās face swims in his vision. Itās so clear, that moment, despite the blur of his tears obstructing the large eyes and thin lips drawn in a pinched, painful expression Taehyun recognizes from his own few encounters with a mirror since it all started. Becauseāfuck, Beomgyu is grieving, too. Kai wasnāt just Taehyunās friend. At some point in time, he was Beomgyuās too.Ā
Yet despite this grief, Beomgyuās eyes are soft. No longer angry. Andāin the future, Taehyun will know why. Because the loud and playful and endlessly, carelessly kind Beomgyu that heād known from a distance on the schoolyard is somehow still the Beomgyu of this deadened husk of a world, brash and cheerful and sweet chaos personified in his lightning sharp laugh, still a ray of kindness and raw hope despite all the world has done to make him otherwise. In the moment, though, he doesnāt know. Doesnāt understand. Canāt comprehend how Beomgyu couldnāt hate someone whoād killed a boy they both knew because for all that theyād each pulled the trigger, it had never before been on someone they knew as a brother, a boy they both cherished and loved. So why was Beomgyu still here and trying to comfort him, of all things, when Taehyun was the one whoād caused him so much pain?
āHeās dead,ā Taehyun sobs. āHeāsĀ dead, and I killed him.ā
āHe asked you to,ā Beomgyu replies quietly.Ā
Against his will, the image returns. Kaiās eyes, so clear, so earnest as he asked despite the oozing veins spasming up his neck and cheek.Ā Please. For me.Ā Words as lucid as his eyes had been, then, devoid of the glazed grief theyād held when Yeonjun and Soobin went, of the emptiness theyād borne the night before he left. In those last moments, if you could ignore the final phases of infection creeping up his skin, heād have been indistinguishable from the childhood best friend Taehyun had known all his life.Ā
Taehyun squeezes his eyes shut against the scene burned into his vision.Ā Please. For me.Ā
Who was he to refuse the smallest of mercies to the boy heād always called a friend?
But still, the grief keens in his chest.Ā But stillāeven thenā
(Mom, Dad, Iām so glad you never saw me like this.)
āIt wasnāt fair of him to,ā Beomgyu continues, cutting through the ache. āBut he did.ā
Taehyunās stomach lurches. Twists.Ā It wasnāt fair of him to. No, it wasnāt, but what else could he have done? WhatĀ else? He was already in the final stages of infection. He had no weapon that Taehyun could see. What could Taehyun have doneāwhat the fuckĀ elseĀ could he have done,Ā what other fucking choice did he haveā
Life isnāt fair.Ā
Not fair. Never fair. It never couldāve been, neverĀ wouldāveĀ been, not in this world where heās been cursed to remain amidst the ashes of everything heās ever known.Ā
āNoneĀ of this,ā Taehyun grits out, trying not to scream, āis fuckingĀ fair.ā
āIt isnāt,ā Beomgyu agrees. āAnd theyāKai, Yeonjun, Soobin, everyoneāthey know that.ā
Clear as day, unsaid words hang in the air.Ā
None of this is your fault.
āThatās how I know theyāre still with us, Taehyun. Because nothing was fair to them, and nothing is fair to us.ā Beomgyu had been holding him before but somehow Taehyun was also holding Beomgyu, then, fingers and legs twisted, their sides pressed together as the older boy heaved a deep, shuddering sigh that Taehyun could feel against his chest. āThey know it, and they accept it. They must.āĀ
So honest. So sound. So reasonable in Beomgyuās soft voice, even though on the schoolyard, Taehyun had often fancied himself the more logical and cynical of the two, between his skepticism and Beomgyuās purported cheer. He listens, and tries to hear, and though the moment is but a blur between the pounding in his head and the tears in his eyes, some things echo. Some things stay. Beomgyuās words ground him, his voice hoarse with tears, whispering so clearly into Taehyunās ear.Ā
āI want you to know, too, Taehyun. Thatās why I dare to say it.ā
. . . . .
In the weeks after, Taehyun thinks. And wonders. Ponders Beomgyuās words and their truth, teases apart belief from fact. Itās true that life is unfair, that nothing has been fair for Taehyun or Beomgyu or anyone else they knew, but how does Beomgyu know with such certainty that the others know? That they believe, and understand? Because knowing and believing are not one and the same, and besides, theyāre dead. How could Beomgyu ever know the thoughts of the dead?
āI donāt know,ā is what Beomgyu admits when Taehyun finally finds the courage to ask. Theyāve long stopped counting the days but itās been some time, maybe a month or two, though neither of them can be sure. āLike you say, itās belief, not fact, but only in the sense that they never told me. I believe in them.ā He sighs a little. āThat they would never blame us for their circumstances, the way weād never blame them for ours.ā
Taehyun stares at the ceiling, feeling the rough, dusty carpet beneath them. Theyāre lying in another abandoned house, the previous one picked clean of the few provisions it once had. Picture frames of a happy family haunt the tables and walls, and he tries his best to ignore their eyes staring down at him from their perches. Some of them have fallen to the floor, knocked over by another survivor too worried about food to care about a few smashed pictures and panes of glass.Ā
Or perhaps the photos unsettled them as much as they unsettle Taehyun, and they gave in to the urge to shatter the frames on the ground.Ā
Grief and loathing rise in Taehyunās chest, and he swallows around the urge to vomit. Beomgyu is better than he is. Taehyun still finds himself cursing his parents for leaving him alone like this. Soobin for getting sick. Yeonjun for disappearing. Kai for forcing him to pull the trigger. Even Beomgyu, sometimes, for making him wanting to stay alive even the slightest bit when it would be so much easier to just give up. Which is none of their faults and he would never want the dead to return just for the sake of his own cold comfort, but it still fuckingĀ hurtsĀ and sometimes it tries to eat him alive.Ā
He tells Beomgyu as much, not really knowing what reaction to expect, but the older boy only shrugs from his position splayed out on the floor. āBut you could never really blame them for this, could you?āĀ
Heās right. Taehyun couldnāt. Which just makes everything hurt more.Ā
āI donāt want to think of them this way,ā he says. To his side, he feels Beomgyuās eyes turning to him, but Taehyun keeps staring at the ceiling. āI justāI want to remember the good things. The memories we had. And how they should have been, if we were all still alive.ā
āā¦Remember when I told you theyāre still with us?ā
Taehyun almost snorts. āI nearly strangled you, I think itād be hard to forget.ā
āYeah, well.ā Beomgyu snickers too. āBesides that, I was being serious, you know.ā His tone turns somber, and even though sleep pulls at his eyelids, Taehyun strains his ears to listen.Ā
āItās not really remembering,ā Beomgyu says quietly. āAt least for me. Itās likeā¦a certainty. Knowing that they were there. Knowing that they lived, knowing that I loved them, and knew them, and knowing that they loved and knew me too. I was touched by them when they lived.ā He takes a deep breath. āSo as long as I live, a part of themā¦theyāll always be alive, too.ā
Beomgyuās words wash over Taehyunās skin, a light balm to soothe the ever-present ache in his chest. Itās a lovely thoughtāso lovely, really, that only Beomgyu, the last ray of raw hope in this world, could have thought of it. But when he finishes, and the silence falls again, something about it still doesnāt sit right with Taehyun. Because itās all a little too lovely for this broken world of disaster and death.Ā
āHow can you think that?ā Taehyun asks, and thereās no venom this time. Because for all the beauty of Beomgyuās words he still canāt quite comprehend them, understand how Beomgyu could ever accept them fully. He wants to know. Needs to. Kaiās face still haunts him whenever he closes his eyes, blood and a smile and stifling smoke rising from a gun in his hand, and he needs it to stop and Beomgyuās the only one who knows how. How do you remember the dead for what they were, and not just the monsters they became?Ā
āI donāt know,ā Beomgyu says again, voice almost frustrated and uncharacteristically sharp. He softens, though, when Taehyun finally meets his eyes. āI justā¦ā He swallows. āI donāt think Iād be able to live if I didnāt believe in it.ā
They sit in silence for a while as Taehyun mulls over Beomgyuās words.Ā I donāt think Iād be able to live if I didnāt believe in it.Ā He understands. It feels like if he doesnāt believe in something, the grief will bury him alive.Ā
āI feel like Iām dying,ā Taehyun says quietly. āEvery moment, even when Iām not.ā Drowning in what is, what was, what could have been.
āMe too,ā Beomgyu replies, and in the fractured starlight glinting into his dark eyes, Taehyun knows heās telling the truth. That heās dying, but his belief lends him a rope in this dark, dark ocean of blood and sorrow, a rope to cling to that keeps him alive.Ā
I want to believe, too, Taehyun screams inside.Ā I want to. I need to.Ā
āTaehyun.ā Moonlight glints in Beomgyuās eyes. āLook at the stars.ā
Taehyun looks out the window. The black night glitters with little diamond stars, so bright and so beautiful that his breath catches. How had he never noticed them before?
āSometimes, when itās my turn to watch, I look at them. And I pretend.ā Taehyun follows the trail of Beomgyuās finger as he points to the sky. His eyes, once fractured, now glitter wholly in the moonlight, soft and shining and lovely, all-knowing, so full of a glowing foreign hope. āLike, in that cluster, maybe thatās my mom. And my dad, and my brother. And maybe, next to it, thereās Yeonjun and Soobin and Kai right there.ā His finger shifts slightly. Hovers. When he looks back at Taehyun, thereās a little smile on his lips, strong and soft and sure. āI like to think that someday Iāll join them, and weāll finally be together again.ā
Another lovely clichĆ©, one that could only have sounded so beautiful from Beomgyuās own voice. And this time, when Beomgyuās hand lowers to the ground, Taehyun finds himself bound by the spell of his words for just a moment longer as the stars twinkle cheerfully above him.Ā
But theyāre too lovely. Too bright. Too beautiful to be proper elegies for the dead, when their cruel hope never even dims as the pieces of Taehyunās world shatter one by one. They could never reflect the sorrow he carries in his scraped hands, the grief he cradles in his ruined chest, the memories, good and bad, that he clings to in the fragments of his broken mind. And as Taehyun continues staring, staring, trying to summon the hope that sparkles so beautifully in Beomgyuās eyes, all he can think is one thing.Ā
The stars have no right to shine this brightly, not when everyone he loves is dead.
. . . . .
Itās not the only fancy of Beomgyuās that Taehyun doesnāt understand. Beomgyu sees so many stars in his sky, finds hope in so many strange little thingsāa tiny flower by the side of the road, a single whole lollipop in a dusty convenience store, a rare, cool wind breezing through his hair as they trek from one shelter to another, taking from empty grocery stores and hiding in abandoned subways. Itās fascinating to Taehyun, reallyāthat Beomgyu can go through so much, can see Kaiās bloody face in his memories every day, and still find something in nothing and believe it matters. Heāll turn around to find Beomgyu humming old songs to the empty air. Inhaling the scent of natureās overgrown flowers so deeply he chokes. Making bracelets in five braided colors of string as a byproduct of a nightās boredom, looped around his wrist when Taehyun wakes.Ā
āI found the string in a random room and remembered making these when I was a kid,ā is all he says to the question in Taehyunās raised eyebrows. āGot bored while you were sleeping.āĀ
It feels strange, the sensation of the soft, thin braid tickling his wrist as Beomgyu ties it in place, shifting against his skin as he turns it this way and that. Five threads messily twisted and turned together. Five colors, five boys, five friendsā¦
Material things donāt last. Taehyun knows this well. Itās one of the first things he learned in the days after the world fell apartāwhen the photos he carried of his family finally ripped to the point of no return, victims of dust and rain and his dirty backpack and pockets, when the mementos of home he tried to take became more burdens than memories and he had to leave them behind. But though he knows this, something akin to hope still flares, the tiniest spark, in his chest.Ā
Later, heāll admit to himself that heād hoped, foolishly, that this could be his grounding. That this could be how he would remember. But for now he pushes the spark away, looking at Beomgyu and raising an eyebrow to hide the lump welling in his throat. āYou sure this is a braid?ā he asks, and neither of them says anything about the way his voice catches on the last word.
Beomgyu sticks out his tongue and Taehyun has to hide a smile at how ridiculous the older boy looks, eyes narrowed and glinting with mock hurt and mischief. āYou donāt need to wear it if you donāt want to, jerk.ā
Even as Beomgyu says the words, though, Taehyun knows that nothing could ever induce him to take it off on his own. Because for all he canāt understand Beomgyuās stars in a dark, dark night, TaehyunĀ doesĀ understand how he feels about the lovely stars in Beomgyuās own eyes that make him want to listen to everything the loud-mouthed, sweet-tongued boy has to say. A candle lit in the dark, a rope thrown to the drowning.Ā
A single star in Taehyunās black night, the only one he could ever say was truly beautiful.Ā Ā
Which is why, perhaps, when the bracelet disappears several months later after a too-close call with a horde of the undead, Taehyun feels like something in his chest has been ripped open and torn out. It was bound to happen, he knewāthe strings were already thin and faded before Beomgyu found them, and the dust and grime of every day under the hot sun couldnāt have helped. But still, when they get away and Taehyun realizes only dried black blood and sweat now decorate his wrist, not a hint of the five colors to be seen, he nearly goes back. Nearly turns around and sprints to where he almost died just to find it again. Because of that hope, that cruel, dangerous hopeāhope when he knew,Ā he knew, that it couldnāt be.
(Hope is meant for the naĆÆve. Hope is meant for fools. Hope is meant for the people who still see loveliness in a world torn apart, for the people who look at the stars and do not see the cruelty of their beauty, only their cheerful, everlasting glow.)
(Hope is a sword that attacks the wielder and weakens him to the world, showing him the love obscured by dust and static and blood.)
(Hope is a word that gives the world meaning again.)
(Hope is a weapon that snatches that meaning away.)
Beomgyu stops him, a hand on his wrist. āLeave it,ā he says quietly, his fingers wrapping gently around Taehyunās arm. āItās done what it can.āĀ
Butāit hadnāt. Hadnāt, at least, the way Taehyun wanted. It hadnāt remained the grounding point that he needed. It hadnāt kept the horrors away. In fact, it was one of the horrors that tore it from him, tore away Beomgyuās gift and the meaning attached to it, leaving only black blood behind.Ā
(Hope is a weapon that snatches that meaning away.)
Taehyun cries that night, tears running hot and silent down his cheeks as Beomgyu breathes softly in his sleep. And when Beomgyu eventually wakes to Taehyunās quiet sobs, he doesnāt stop the older boy from wrapping his arms around him, bringing Taehyunās head down to his shoulder, and letting the tears soak into his shirt.Ā
Because for all it seemed Taehyun never understood Beomgyu, it had always felt like Beomgyu understood him.Ā
. . . . .
Beomgyu knows, too. That material items donāt remain, that they canāt be counted on to house the memories they need, desperately need, to preserve. Taehyun was there when Beomgyuās own photos became too crumpled and torn to salvage, when the braid heād made for himself disappeared beneath the dust and dirt of the earth just days after Taehyun lost his. For all his sentimental nature, Beomgyu understands the world around him, knows that despite warmth of its burning sun, nature is cold and unforgiving to those who have wronged it.Ā
So when Taehyun finds the empty can of lavender Febreze in Beomgyuās bag, he feels like he should be surprised. The last of the scent has long since dispersed into the air, memories of the smell relegated to the back of his mind, so when it comes out in his hand he blinks a little and for a moment thereĀ isĀ some surpriseāheād thought Beomgyu tossed it when it emptied. But then he blinks again, and he has to wonder how he ever couldāve thought Beomgyu would even think of throwing it away.
It had been a rare cool day when Beomgyu plucked the can off a barren supermarket shelf and shoved it into his bag, despite Taehyunās raised eyebrows and obvious concern for the state of his remaining sanity. Taehyun hadnāt asked questions then, but when they found shelter for the evening, just a few days out from where they hoped to reach a survivorsā compound, heād raised a pointed eyebrow as Beomgyu produced the can from his bag.Ā
āDonāt interrogate me!ā Beomgyu had yelped, hands raised in mock indignation as Taehyun fought to hide a smile at his antics. āIām innocent!ā
āI wasnāt going to interrogate you,ā heād replied, giving up on hiding the smile. There was no point anyway, not when Beomgyu looked so carefree, so happy, so unchanged despite the cruelty of the world around him. āI just want to know.ā
The hands came down, but Beomgyuās smile stayed. āI donāt know,ā heād said, shrugging. āIt was just there, so I took it.ā Taehyun had snorted at that, but he wasnāt done. āI guess I justā¦didnāt want to leave with nothing at all.ā
Despite the previous levity, Taehyun remembers a tightness in his chest, a prickling behind his eyes as he stared at the almost garishly purple can in Beomgyuās dirty hand. That was something he could understand.Ā
āDo you even know how it smells?ā heād asked, ignoring the stupid lump in his throat. Heād never quite given up on that habit, not even long after Beomgyu proved he could read Taehyun no matter how he tried to keep his tears quiet.Ā
But Beomgyu didnāt say anything, just looked at the can with a guiltily mischievous expression on his face. His finger rested on the valve as he looked back up at Taehyun, ready to shrug again as he grinned. āLook, it has to be better than the things we smell outside.ā
ItĀ wasĀ better, but mostly because itās hard not to be better than the stench of rotting corpses mixed with the tang of dried blood coupled with the scent of blooming flowers in the hot wind that somehow makes it all worse. Strong, tooāclearly a year of sitting unused on a shelf hadnāt done much to dampen the scent. When Beomgyu sprayed it the first time, more on accident than anything else, they had to stifle coughs and sneezes for too many minutes as the mist tickled their noses.
And yet they kept it.Ā
Which is weird, because most useless things that Taehyun and Beomgyu, despite his inner child, would put in the same category as questionable year-old Febreze get left behind. Itās a luxury, and thereās no space for luxuries in their bagsānot phones, not photos, not dingy string bracelets braided with threads in five different colors. Things like Febreze werenāt supposed to have held a place in their lives.Ā
But as the days pass, Beomgyu carves out a place for its too-strong flowery sweet scent. A tiny puff in the air when they return to their current shelter after finding the compound razed to the ground. A small spritz to freshen up before they move on to the next abandoned home. And as they keep struggling through their barren world, emptying the can on their way, Taehyun begins to wonderāwhen humanity has completely fallen and another race takes up the earth, what willĀ theyĀ be remembered by? Will it be the broken braided bracelets threaded in five different colors fallen by the side of the road? Will it be photos of the dead left in abandoned frames in abandoned homes, or stuffed in dirty bags and soiled by dust and rain?
Will it be an empty can of lavender mist at the bottom of a survivorās bag, the strong, sweet scent of home still a wisp in the air?
Because for all the tickle of lavender mist grates on Taehyunās nose at the start, slowly, subtly, it does begin to smell of home. Of comfort. Of rest. Of Beomgyuās presence on the days when Taehyun canāt hold the gun for fear of seeing Kaiās bloody face, when Taehyun can only find death and disaster in every street they pass, when he canāt stand without the world crashing down on his shoulders. On these days, thereās always the weight of Beomgyuās hand in his, in the press of his body against Taehyunās during sleepless nights, in the brief dusting of lavender mist into the airā¦
And one day, the scent isnāt too strong. It isnāt too sweet. Itās a break, a respite, a piece of the old world that miraculously wasnāt lost even in the wake of disaster.Ā
When Taehyun looks at Beomgyu thenāreallyĀ looks at Beomgyuāas he spritzes small bursts of mist into the air of their new makeshift shelter, it only takes him a minute to realize that Beomgyu feels this way, too. That heās probably felt it for a long time.Ā
So when Taehyun finds the empty can in Beomgyuās bag, after the momentary surprise, he blinks once, and twice, and remembers the scent. Remembers the sentiment. Remembers this reminder, however small, of home.Ā
How could Beomgyu have thrown this away?
He tries the valve, even though he knows itās empty. Nothing comes out.Ā
Itās been three days since Beomgyu went. Three days since he showed Taehyun the bite festering black and red, three days since he drew the gun at his belt and weighed it in his hand, three days since he smiled at Taehyun, lips trembling, and raised the muzzle to his temple.
(āTurn around, Taehyun. Donāt watch. Itās okay.ā)
(āI wonāt do it until you turn away.ā)
Only then, with the empty metal can in his hand, does Taehyun finally cry.Ā
He cries for his parents, who were out when the virus got them and never managed to return alive. He cries for his friends who passed first, three of the five strings that frayed over the months until the knotted bracelet fell off his wrist, one ill, one disappeared, one shot. He cries for Beomgyu, the fourth string and his only family left, his last thread of hope in this heartless world. He cries forĀ him, Taehyun, the fifth string and the last one alive, so far from home and never to return.
Taehyun cries for the hope Beomgyu carried that was destroyed three days ago with a bullet shot by Beomgyuās very own hands. A bullet that took the last of all that he had, leaving him withā
Nothing.Ā
(What will the world remember him by when he goes?)
When Taehyun wakes in the middle of the night, eyes red and cheeks sticky with tears, something in him begs to stay still. What use is there in forging on, in living when everything has been lost, when thereās nothing and no one left to survive for?
(A crumpled family photo dissolved in the rain?)
Is there even a point?
(A broken braid of five frayed strings, buried under the dust by the road?)
Taehyun stares at the gun by his side. Loaded. Always within armās reach. So easy to lift, so easy to position, so easy to use. It would be so simple to mimic Beomgyuās actions from three days ago. Lift. Point. Pull. Bang.
(Or the trail of bodies left in his wake, one sick, one vanished, two shot with the very gun by his side?)Ā
But on his other side, the can of lavender mist rolls against his hand. The metal is warm from his touch, the dirty purple of the wrapping an eyesore in the corner of his vision. He looks at it through bleary eyes and for a moment, he can almost smell it in the airāstrong, floral, sweet.Ā
Home.Ā
(Perhaps a can of lavender mist at the bottom of a beat-up bag, the remnants of a scent that came from home.)
Material things donāt last, itās true. Everything eventually gives way to death and decay. But in that moment, Taehyun learnsāsome things return anew. Bursts of five rainbow colors, a single star in a cloudy night, a remnant of lavender blooming on the breezeāand they tickle a memory in his mind, bringing back, if only for a moment, something beautiful.Ā
Perhaps this, then, is letting go. How to remember. Not by the stars and their ominous cheer, not by memories slipping from the desperate grasp of his mind. Because heĀ willĀ remember. Always. By the tiny things that remind him of those he once loved, and still loves.Ā
Memories fade. There are things Taehyun canāt or doesnāt recall for long stretches of time. Voices. Laughs. Smiles. The good and the bad, the horrors and the joys, what once was and now is. But sometimes, a piece of the current world will remind him of something. A birdās soft chirp brings back his motherās gentle voice. A roll of thunder crackles like his fatherās laugh. Yeonjunās reassuring grip, Soobinās soft smile, Kaiās musicality in a light, cool wind curling through the air.
Beomgyuās hand in his own under a night sky full of stars, fingers loosely intertwined with a promise of hope he will never understand.
(Hope is for the naĆÆve. Hope is for fools. Hope is for the people willing to give their hearts to the world, when nothing guarantees that they will get it back.)
But thisĀ isĀ hope. His hope. His remembrance. His elegies for the dead, poems written not in the stars but in the pockets of color he finds as the days go by. There isnāt much for him, not in this world, but there is something left for those who have gone. A hope. A dream. A wish. A prayer whispered on lavender scented air, too sweet and too strong and smelling so much of homeāa prayer that things will be okay someday.
(Hope is a weapon that weakens the wielder to an unforgiving world.)
And if they are, even if it only becomes true in the last moments of Taehyunās life, he wants to see it. For them.Ā
(Hope is a word that gives the world meaning again.)
It isnāt easy. It isnāt fair. It never will be, really. There will always be days when the horrors constrict his chest so he cannot breathe. There will always be days when he canāt lift himself from the ground, so he tries to just give up. There will never be a reason heās alive and everyone else is dead. But on those days, when the sun sets and the moon rises and the stars come out once more, Taehyun holds the long empty can of lavender mist, its label rubbed away under layers of dirt and grime, and he remembers. A sweet scent, a cackling laugh. A gentle voice, a warm smile.
A boy who gave him a reason to be.Ā
So when morning rises, Taehyun rolls over. Stands. Places the empty can back in Beomgyuās bag, picks it up along with his. Slings them over his back.Ā
And starts walking again.Ā
The sun beats harsh on his brow. Branches catch on his clothes. The snarl of animals and the undead alike whisper faint in his ears. But day by day, Taehyun continues, despite the strangling embrace of Mother Nature curling around him no matter where he goes. Because at night, when darkness sets and the moon rises, Taehyun will feel it. Hope. Not in the garish twinkle of the stars, not in the baleful gaze of the moon on his skin, but in the reminder of a boy whose smiles never made sense, who found things beautiful Taehyun could never dream of comprehending, but who held his hand anyway as starlight shimmered in his dark, laughing eyes.Ā
In the scent of lavender mist filling his nose, no matter where he decides to go.Ā
Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)
#tomorrow x together#tomorrow by together#txt taehyun#txt beomgyu#taehyun#kang taehyun#beomgyu#choi beomgyu#txt scenarios#tomorrow x together scenarios#txt oneshots#txt imagines#txt taehyun scenarios#txt beomgyu scenarios#tomorrow x together angst#tomorrow x together oneshots#tomorrow by together scenarios#tomorrow x together imagines#angst#apocalypse!au#cw cursing#cw blood#cw guns#cw death#the things we lost along the way#blossom-hwa
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Luck of the Draw - part 2
Ghost x fem!Reader - Left 4 Dead/Cod AU
This story is written in first person. I understand that some people don't like first person reader inserts, so if you are one of them, please just keep on scrolling! And if the thought of a left 4 dead/cod au sounds fun, but this one doesn't appeal to you? Feel free to write your own! Or request it from a favorite author, as long as they are open for requests and au ideas~
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Warnings: A little bit of angst, I suppose, but not really. Just a vague mention of past abuse and a lack of trust on the MC's part pointed towards the boys. Also no zombies yet, but I PROMISE they will be there in the next part- This won't just be an apocalypse au, I swear it!
Words: 2.4K!
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Part 1 // part 3 will be linked here when its posted!
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We moved in a line. Soap up front, me in the middle, Ghost behind us. I wasnāt a super fan of having tall, dark, and British behind me at all times, but I convinced myself through an internal argument that it was better than being exposed. At least if a Jockey or something managed to sneak up on us that meant it would jump on his back instead of mine.Ā
Our trip lasted all day. Heading almost directly southeast, keeping the steadily setting sun just to the right of our path. Soap and Ghost were dead silent the entire time and I didnāt try to take up the mantle of conversationalist in their absence. Ghost probably would have yelled at me that I was distracting them and I didn't want to see if Soap had a mean streak hidden behind that smile.Ā
It was only once the sun started to slip down over the tops of the distant trees, out of sight, that the guys decided it was time to stop for the night.Ā
āBetter not to get caught outside after dark,ā Soap muttered as Ghost took the lead of our pack, nudging open the door to a little pizza place. It was completely silent inside, with no broken windows and no visible corpses. Looked like it had probably been closed when everything went down.Ā
āSeems pretty untouched,ā I whispered, glancing down the street, in the one direction weād seen some infected about twenty minutes ago. It was surprisingly empty of them down this road, which set me on edge. āThink weāll find food inside?āĀ
āMight. If not Ghost and I will share what we got,ā Soap replied quietly, his eyes trained on Ghostās back as he slipped into the kitchen with his gun raised.Ā
āClear,ā he called. āSoap, check the bathrooms. Thereās a freezer door back āere Iāll poke into.ā He turned to pin me with his eyes. āYou, keep back.āĀ
He didnāt have to tell me twice.Ā
The place ended up being empty. Not even a blood stain to be seen. The freezer was broken, clearly, and everything that was perishable had long since perished, but there were a few canned things that had lasted through the apocalypse that we shared between the three of us. Ghost didnāt take his mask off to eat. Just lifted it up so it didnāt block his mouth and stared right back at me as I stared at the scar that cut through his lips. Maybe before all this Iād have cared more about how that made me look, how that made him think I was, but the end of the world had a funny way of reshuffling your fears and anxieties.Ā
Once our lovely dinner was done and over with, the remaining food slipped away for the future, Ghost told Soap and I to get some sleep, then stepped out into the dining room to keep watch for the night. Soap propped himself up against the wall by the freezer door, his gun in his lap, and leaned his head back and closed his eyes. I chose to curl up in the corner along the same wall as him, with my knees tucked into my chest and my hands folded under my head.Ā
My eyes didnāt close, however. Instead they kept staring out into the darkness, towards the dining room door. Towards where Ghost was. It sounded like Soap was asleep. He was breathing deeply and hadnāt moved in a while, but I still didnāt really trust these two.Ā
Neither of them had shown any signs of possible betrayal and everything they had done only reinforced the idea that they were actual military men. Yet there was still that little hint of doubt at the back of my mind. That one instinct that told me to keep my guard up, my mind active, my eyes open. I trusted them to keep me safe from the zombies, but I knew the only thing that would keep me safe from them was myself.Ā
I dozed off a few times. Never fully fell asleep, jerked awake at every rush of wind or creak of the building, but still. It was better than nothing. I probably would have gotten better sleep if Iād still been in that attic. My plan had been to stay there for a few days. Deal with the hunger for as long as I could, rest up, then search the suburbs for anything that might have been left behind by the families there.Ā
Halfway through the night, Ghost stepped back through the door and I instantly pushed myself up so I was sitting, my eyes wide, fearing that something had gone wrong.Ā
He didnāt say anything though. Not to me. His eyes danced over to me in the darkness, but he just walked right over to Soap and nudged him in the leg with his boot. Soap breathed deep, his eyes opening easily as he tilted his head back to look up at his partner.
āMy turn?ā he asked softly. Ghost nodded and Soap nodded back before he pushed himself to his feet. He also spared me a glance, smiling when he spotted me sitting up and staring at them. āGo back to sleep. Just switching the watch, is all.āĀ
Soap stalked out of the room, looking completely awake, and Ghost slid down the wall to take the same position as Soap.Ā
After a moment of hesitation, I curled back up on my side, falling back into the silence of the night.
Ghost didnāt let it linger between us long.
āHavenāt slept a wink, have you?ā He whispered. His voice carried through the room with ease, making me flinch as it hit my ears. I shifted a bit on the floor. The urge to roll to my other side was strong, but I wasnāt willing to put my back to the room to relieve the ache in my limbs.Ā
āNo.āĀ
He grunted. Then spoke again. āShould try to.āĀ
āHave been.āĀ
āTry harder.āĀ
I lifted my head, just enough so he could turn and see how my face was twisted in annoyance.Ā
āBastard,ā I hissed.
To my surprise, his eyes scrunched and his shoulders shook and I heard him chuckle. He didnāt seem the kind to laugh easily, but of course getting a rise out of me would do it. Ghost didnāt say anything else and I settled back on the floor a few seconds later. The urge to snap at him again was strong, yet I managed to ignore it.Ā
--
āSo how long have you been out here alone, lass?ā Soap asked, his fingers idly drumming against the handguard of his rifle.Ā
We were walking along a road. One side was lined sparsely with trees and the other was nothing but a rotting cornfield. It was open and windy and apparently the perfect time to start interrogating me about my past. Soap was to my left and Ghost was a few paces behind us both, his eyes scanning the fields around us. Every now and then we passed an empty car, but besides that it was completely barren.Ā
āPretty much since the beginning of all this,ā I replied with a shrug. āMy family always liked to talk a big game about what weād do if zombies ever hit, but the second they did, it all fell apart. I was home alone. Everyone else was at workā¦ I said they were dead, but honestly, I have no idea what happened to any of themā¦ I stayed home for a few days after everything went wrong, though, so I figure if they didnāt try to come get meā¦,ā I shrugged again and Soapās face looked grim. āWent out on my own when looters turned up and started threatening me.āĀ
āSorry, lass,ā he muttered.
āDonāt be, they were an abusive bunch of assholes anyway.ā Soapās brows raised suddenly and he glanced at Ghost over his shoulder. āI donāt miss any of them.āĀ
āNot one?ā
āNot. One.āĀ
āWellā¦ guess thatās a bright side, then,ā he said, scoffing.
āMhm. What about you? Whatās your sob story?ā
Soap shook his head at me. āNo story to sob over. My familyās tucked away on base in the UK. I wasnāt working when this all went down, but was called up pretty fast once things got rollinā. Got 'em safe, then got called in.ā I nodded a few times, a smile curling at my lips.Ā
āThatās good to hear. What about you, Ghost?ā I asked, turning to walk backwards a few paces so I could look at him while I spoke. āWhatās your whole deal?ā
Soapās brows raised again and he glanced back towards Ghost yet again as his dark eyes turned on me. No one spoke for a short while. I kept walking backwards, thankful that this road was smooth and there werenāt any cracks or bumps for me to trip and eat shit over.Ā
āDonāt have one.āĀ
āA deal orā¦?ā
āFamily.āĀ
āBecause of the zombies?ā
āNo.āĀ
āWhy the mask?ā
āLass-ā Soap started, the warning clear in his tone. āDonāt.āĀ
Ghost didnāt offer anything else but a set of narrowed eyes, so I took Soapās advice and turned back around to continue our walk in silence.
--
We were still on the road when night fell. There were no buildings in sight and no signs of any zombies, but Ghost and Soap still didnāt want to be out in the open, so we stopped just after the sun fell below the horizon, when we found a big van that could fit us all while keeping us out of sight.Ā
It had a big enough space in the back to fit us all on the floor. Not comfortably. However comfort wasnāt the worry, at least not for the guys.Ā
It wasnāt what I was worried about either, to be fair. What I was worried about was the fact that they wanted to keep me in the middle of our sleep pile.Ā
āWhy?āĀ
āYouāll be safer there and I donāt think Iād survive too much longer if I woke up snuggled up on Ghost,ā Soap said with a laugh.Ā
āAnd what makes you think I want you snuggled up on me?ā I almost snarled, snapping him out of his humorous mood. His eyes flickered down to my hands, where I was gripping my gun like a lifeline, then over to Ghost, a frown pulling at his lips.Ā
āI didnāt mean anything by it, lass,ā he said, sounding serious for the first time since Iād met him. āSwear it. All hands will be kept to themselves.ā My eyes narrowed at him. āItās just to keep you safe. Ghost and I are used to this sort of thing, even before the outbreak, weāve done this a thousand times with people weāve been tasked to keep out of the line of fire.āĀ
I still wasnāt convinced.
āHow ābout this,ā Ghost said, stepping up beside me. I flinched when he reached forward and my eyes widened when I realized he was offering me a knife. āYou keep this close. In hand. Guns wonāt be any use in such close quarters, so if we do anything that makes you feel threatened, give us a new hole, alright?ā
That was a little more reassuringā¦ I still wasnāt completely happy about the set up, but the sun was gone and the light was fading fast and the closing darkness felt more like it was pressuring me about my choice than anything else. So, with a quiet sigh, I nodded and took the knife from Ghost.Ā
Then I crawled into the back of the van and was quickly squished between the both of them.Ā
Neither of them planned on keeping watch that night. Since we were in such an open space with no threats in sight, they figured it was best for them to both catch up on sleep while things were clear. I had hoped to do the same, since I hadnāt slept even a little bit the night before. I was finding it difficult to drift off, however.
It was just fear keeping me awake. Pure fear.Ā
The knife Ghost gave me was clutched in my left hand, which was resting against my chest. On my back, I had Soapās back pressed into my left arm and Ghostās shoulder touching the right, giving me no room to worm away. Maybe I would have if Ghost wasnāt on his back, but he seemed to like sleeping like a vampire with his hands folded over his stomach, soā¦
āRelax.ā I flinched at the sound of his voice and turned to stare at Ghost through the shadows, my grip tightening on the hilt of his knife. āI know you donāt trust us, but we arenāt gonna hurt you. Arenāt gonna touch you.āĀ
He could say whatever he wanted, but words were words. They didnāt mean jack shit in the end of it all.Ā
āWhy didnāt you just let me go to the base myself?ā I whispered back to him.Ā
āTold you why.āĀ
āI survived fine enough on my own up until then.ā
āCouldnāt risk lettinā your luck run out.ā
āThought it was just luck that kept me alive this long?ā
āIt's just luck thatās kept any of us alive through all this.ā I couldnāt really argue with that. Zombies were bad enough. The rapid mutations only made it worse. Luck really was a big part of it, that was just a fact. āTry and get some sleep. We move out at sunrise.āĀ
Ghost turned away from me after that, facing the roof of the van as his eyes fell closed. Less than a minute later he was breathing deeply and evenly and I allowed myself to loosen my grip on the knife. Just a little.Ā
Neither of them moved in their sleep. All they did was breathe. They didnāt even snore, which was almost weird, but then I thought about how they were military. Probably used to falling asleep whenever they could, wherever they could. Having to be quick and quiet about resting in dangerous places. It was a skill I wish Iād gained through all this. Iād always had trouble falling asleep, even when I was exhausted, like I was now. If I didnāt manage to calm myself down and let myself rest for at least a little while tonight, Iād be a walking liability and luck would get us nowhere.Ā
I took a deep breath, letting my eyes close lightly. Then I took another and risked rolling over onto my right side, putting my back against Soapās and facing Ghost. I kept the knife in my hand and rested my fist next to my head, trying to keep my breathing steady, trying to relax myself enough that I could sleep.
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thank you for reading :3
have a lovely day!
#Call of Duty#Simon Riley#Simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#mw 2#modern warefare 2#cod modern warfare#Cod#ghost cod#left 4 dead#call of duty au#my works#i think thats all the dang tags i had on the last one-
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I uploaded this chapter last year, but I'm just now posting it here! I'm going to be doing this with the rest of them over the next couple of days :P
"One bite and five days are all it took for the world to come to an end. Nearly two months after an unexplainable, violent illness swept throughout the globe like a raging wildfire, after cities have crumbled to ruin and most of humanity has been wiped out, only a few survive. Some of those still alive are just trying to survive, while others are searching for an answerāa reason why and what caused people to turn into walking, cannibalistic corpses that decay but never seem to truly die. Now, a group of survivorsāa dog, few adult figures, and a bunch of teenagersāsearch for a cure and must figure out how to live with the undead amongst them, and how to deal with each other as relationships strain and tensions rise."
ā Ā· Word Count: 2395 ā Ā· Fandom: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types ā Ā· Rating: Mature ā Ā· Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death ā Ā· Relationships: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Jason Grace/Piper McLean, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Silena Beauregard/Charles Beckendorf, Thalia Grace/Reyna Avila RamĆrez-Arellano ā Ā· Characters: Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson, Leo Valdez, Nico di Angelo, Frederick Chase, Frank Zhang, Luke Castellan, Hazel Levesque, Jason Grace, Piper McLean, Grover Underwood, Juniper (Percy Jackson), Katie Gardner, Travis Stoll, Connor Stoll, Chiron (Percy Jackson), Will Solace, Silena Beauregard, Charles Beckendorf, Clarisse La Rue, Thalia Grace, Reyna Avila RamĆrez-Arellano ā Ā· Additional Tags: Angst Ā· Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence Ā· Inspired by The Walking Dead Ā· Title from a My Chemical Romance Song Ā· Found Family Ā· Bittersweet Ā· Based on a My Chemical Romance Song Ā· I'm so sorry Ā· Everyone Needs A Hug Ā· Hurt/Comfort Ā· Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse Ā· Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson-centric Ā· Betrayal ā Ā· **First Person POVs** ā Ā· Rated Mature for strong language, violence, sexual references, etc..
Annabeth
I amĀ soĀ lost. Worst of all, Iām aloneāwith about twenty reanimated corpses chasing after me like they havenāt eaten in decades. (Based on the thick, dark red blood dribbling down their chins, though, I doubt it.) Despite my own desperate situation, Iām pleading and praying that Thalia, Luke, and Leoāall of themāare okay. How did we even get split up? We were all next to each other this morning, thenāGod, they all came out ofĀ nowhere.
The undead snarl and snap their jaws at me, showing their rotting, foul teethāthe insides of their mouths black and corroded, filled with flies and their larvae. The thundering of their clumsy, heavy steps gets louder and I snap my head back to see the growing crowd. I bite back a curse. My legs are throbbing and ache from the exertion, threatening to give out on me at any moment. Obviously, I canāt keep running forever. But I also canāt stop unless I want to get torn apart.
Iām reaching an intersection and take a sharp right turn.Ā
Bad idea.
My feet nearly slip out from under me as I scramble backward, running away from the cluster of walking cadavers and back the way I came. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the horde almost right next to me, snarling and outstretching their decaying arms toward me in a horrific embrace. My lungs sting as if Iām trying to breathe in hot, rusty air, the eye-watering stench of rotten flesh burns my nose as a half-decomposed hand claws at the back of my shirt, tearing a hole in it as I pull away. I yelp, forcing myself to push through the aching pain.
I turn another corner (thankfully, one without any ghouls), chucking some food from my backpack down the street as far as I can throw it, and slip into a shadowy, narrow alleyway, skidding to a stop. With my breathing ragged and unsteady, I have a hard time staying silent as I press my back flush against the hot brick wall, sweat running down my temple. Almost as soon as I step into the alleyway, the stampede of rotting corpses rushes past me, none of them appearing to have noticed me. For who knows how longāitās hard to estimate time when youāre playing a lethal game of hide-and-go-seek tagāIāve been rushing through Midtown, a labyrinth fallen to ruin, with only a few breaks (to say that Iām exhausted would be an understatement). And yet I still have a lot further to go to get out of here. Well, if IĀ manageĀ to. Honestly, I should be dead right now.
After listening for a minute or two, I exhale, collecting my wits before peaking around the corner. I sink to the dirty alleyway floor, a rat scurrying past me, and take a few minutes to catch my breath. As much as I want to rest here and not move for the foreseeable future, I need to get further away from the undead that are feasting on somethingāor someoneāand completely ignoring the pack of beef jerky I threw.Ā Rude. I take a quick swig of my waterāquenching the dry, sandpaper feeling in my mouthāreadjust my pack on my shoulder, and start walking down the alley, taking the opportunity to ease up a bit and give my legs a break.
After carefully walking a few blocks away from the horde, I found a safe place to rest and eat something. I hadnāt realized how hungry I was until my stomach growled and scared the hell out of me. From my hiding spot behind the dumpster, I pull out the little bit of food thatās left in my bag: a grand feast of a fourth of my water and a sandwich.Ā Go figure, I think to myself. Even though I tried to conserve my rations for the past few days, it was a pathetic notion, thinking I could manage, really; I hadnāt had that much, to begin with.Ā
How is this going to work?
After pondering it for a minute or two, I decided to only eat as much as necessary to keep myself from passing out. Almost a month into the apocalypse, itās hard to findĀ anything. Especially in the city.
While I was staring off into space, I failed to notice the low snarling from my right. I sharply turn my head, peeking through the crack behind the dumpster. I donāt see anything... A horribly mutilated face meets mine, gnarling and screeching as it tries to reach its arm through the small gap. I fall backwards and bump into the other dumpster behind me with a loud thud, but quickly stand up. The one got itself stuck, its skin tearing off its arm as it still tries to grab at me, except the three down the alley arenāt and are already making their way toward me. I turn on my heel and bolt, my pack unzipped and its contents spilling out.
Thankfully, I make it out of the alleyway.
On the other hand, after I make it out, I trip over a raised chunk of concrete on the sidewalk and go sprawling forward, a sharp, blistering pain shooting up from my ankle as it fails to turn with the rest of my body. The side of my head bangs against the bumper of a dusty red sedan, sending a rattling feeling throughout my bodyāIām only vaguely aware of the sensation of blood on the side of my head. Stars swim in my vision, but I canāt blink them away. In my dazed state, I can see (and hear) the small yet approaching group and start hacking away with my bronze dagger, praying that Iām hitting my targets. One falls on top of me, but I push the heel of my hand against its gross, rotting forehead, trying to keep its snapping jaws at bay. I plunge my dagger into its rotten pumpkin-like skull and roll it off of me.
Did it bite my arm?Ā God, noāplease. Iām not sure.Ā
My vision inevitably clears and I manage to find my balance and stand to take down the last two undead barreling at me; I stab the first, my blade making a squelching sound when I pull it out and shove it aside as the second clumsily races forward.Ā
Closer...Ā Closer... THUMP!
I step out of the way at the last second, shoving the half-dead man face-first onto the hood of the car. Grabbing it by its thin, greasy hair, I pull it back and bash his head against the car over and over again until its brains splatter the hood. Then the car alarm goes off. I let go of the man carelessly, limping to the driverās side of the car. Locked.Ā Damnit.
I feel something trickle down my lip. I wipe my upper lip with the back of my hand, only to see blood. Great. First, my ankle, then my head, and now my nose. Iām practically a walking āEat Meā sign.
The setting sun glares at me, and I'm only now aware of the number of dead bodies lying behind me. If there were that many earlier, who knows how many will come outāespecially with the blaring car alarm.
The world seems to tilt, and my body sways as a wave of vertigo washes over me.Ā This isnāt good, I think as I cling to a street lamp for stability. Nightfall is coming, and Iām exposed here, out in the open. And in the middle of Manhattan, to boot. Just my luck. Turning my head as quickly as it will let me, I look for somewhere to hide for the night.Ā
I can hardly think straight... The sudden urge to vomit overwhelms me, but I choke it back down.Ā No. Please, please, please, not now. If I got bit I swearāĀ No. Iāve got to get a grip. āPanicā is not in my vocabulary. āLogicā is, however, and I need to use that right now. I make a mental note of it: Plan now, panic later.
First things first, I need to find shelter and then deal with my injuries. A barricaded apartment building catches my eye. It looks safe enough. Well, for the most part. There are a few broken windows and boards torn off and chunks of brick missing. Other than that, however, it appears pretty much untouched compared to everything else. Itās not my brightest idea, but I only have two options in my concussed state: stay in the open street, or go into the decimated apartment building, which may or may not be inhabited by the living dead.
I look both waysāfuck, I feel awfulācatching a glimpse of three ghouls down the street. Since they have likely been dead since the start, their vision should be terrible. Still, to be safe, I jog across the road (more like hobble, given the state of my ankle), hiding behind various objects until Iām sure the coast is clear.
When I make it to the apartment, I only hesitate for a moment before crawling under a wooden board.
ā ā ā
I grip the railing as I begin ascending another flight of stairs, my knuckles white and palms clammy. My footfall echoes throughout the stairwell and I cringe with each step as the sound bounces from wall to wall. Could they beĀ anyĀ quieter? Every breath sounds louder than it probably is and my footsteps thunder against the metal stairs. Having said that though, I havenāt seen or heard anything in the ten minutes Iāve been in here, so thatās a good sign.
I hope.
A white-hot fire burns in my legs, snaking its way up from my ankles to my hips. I havenāt had a chance to look at it, but I can already tell I hurt my ankle pretty bad.
Finally, I reach the third floor. (The stairs werenāt too bad, but with the condition Iām in, it was absolutely exhausting.) A dirty window at the end of the hallway allows the dim, fading sunlight to shine through as the only source of light. It looks, well, abandoned; papers, trash, clothes, and broken glass are scattered through the hallway with dried bloodĀ everywhere. On the walls and the floor, really the only sign that there were ever people here. A childās toy is laying on a darkāalmost blackāstain on the floor, covered with so much blood that it took me a minute to figure out what it was.
I shiver at the sight, my skin crawling, and quickly avert my eyes to the woman dressed in a dirty, torn green dress appearing in the hall. I almost call out but stop myself. The undead woman doesnāt notice my presence, going straight for the apartment a few doors down from me, and thumps her head against the door like a bird flying into a closed window. Certainly not the brightest of the bunch. She continues to try to walk through the closed door, which would be almost comedic if it wasnāt such a melancholic and dangerous situation. That woman was alive at one point; now, she has been degraded to a walking corpse. All that noise is going to attract any more that might be in here, though...
I walk towards her, carefully side-stepping the clutter on the floor, and sneak up behind her. When the half-dead woman with dull, cloudy eyes notices me it's too late. As she starts to turn around, I silently plunge my dagger up the nape of her neck and out as her body falls to the floor with a muffled thud. I frown at the sad sight and drag her out of the way.
The fact that (other than the one I just killed) there are no undead nags in the back of my mind, but what intrigues me more is the question of who or what is in that apartment. It might be stupidāextremelyĀ stupidābut it seemed like there was something in that apartment that she was trying to get to, which could be either a good or a bad sign. Best case scenario: it's empty and the dead woman was acting off of what is left of her muscle memory. Worst case scenario: undead dwell inside, eagerly waiting to tear me apart.
I press my ear to the door and listen carefully for any noise. Surprisingly, it's eerily quiet. No ragged breathing or shuffling sounds. No groaning or moaning.
Nothing.
Now that I think about it, I haven't heard anything other than myself. I'm still strongly against the idea of just waltzing into a random room, but I'm about to punch a wall if I can't find somewhere to sleep for the night. Right then, an idea pops into my head. I test the doorknob and, sure enough, it's locked. I wriggle the door knob rather loudly, waiting for something to happen. But nothing comes.
Deciding that it seems okay, I pick the lock and nudge the door to the dark room open, closing and locking it behind me. After my eyes adjust to the lighting (or the lack thereof) I scan the room cautiously. The apartment is in a state of disarray, yet spotless compared to the bloody and chaotic mess outside; an armchair in the corner overturned, stuffing spilling out of a tear in the upholstery, water dripping from a leak in the ceiling somewhere, broken and dismantled furniture spread across the room. It feels empty, yet also lived in. I swear I hear something attempting to get in, then I realize itās just a mouse. I let out a shaky breath and try to shrug it off, narrowing it down to paranoia and exhaustion. Iām too tired to defend myself at this point. The door is locked, and there isnāt anything in hereāIām somewhat safe, for now. If I can make it through tonight, I can make a plan in the morning and figure a way out of this stupid goddamn city.
Right as I get myself calmed down, though, the atmosphere shifts. Suddenly, the air feels denser. Heavier.
Something is wrong.Ā
The hairs on the back of my neck prick up, sending a chill through me. Before I can turn around, I hear the sound of a gun cock behind me.
āDonāt give me a reason to shoot you.ā
Read on archiveofourown.org <3
#pjo#percy jackon and the olympians#the walking dead#percy jackson#annabeth chase#percabeth#percy jackson and the olympians#ao3#fanfiction
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I know zombie apocalypses are probably the last thing anyone wants right now š³ but thereās a new Hosie zombie apocalypse fic out there (with a fun twistā¦thereās a wider post-apocalyptic world theme involved) that Iām really enjoying, new-ish author str4brrryās Among the living dead, shrines and secrets.
(I also have a collection of other Hosie Zombie apocalypse AUs, though, alas, most of them seem likely, erm, left for deadā¦)
#fic recommendation#hosie#hosie fanfiction#hosie fanfics#hosie fanfic#hosie fics#zombie apocolypse au
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Rottmnt au synopsis:
Walking, Talking, apocalypse puppet
Find the key, destroy the krang, easy enough to accomplish, right?
Easier said than done, but, after months of relative peace and healing after the havoc of the krang, New York was becoming the city it used to be. So mission accomplished.
That was, until, an unaccounted different strain of a krang dog, recuperating under some rubble, bit a human and spread a zombie like epidemic, different from the krang gunk that latches itself onto humans and yokai alike. This freed sister krang from her imprisonment by the EPF, reinstating world domination by the krang.
Itās up to the turtles, the purple dragons, big mama, April, the Caseyās, splinter, Sunita to stop the second coming of the krang, and more importantly, stop the carrier of this disease, the savage krang dogs.
A budding, time traveller Wolverine yokai alchemist by the name of Dagon appears on the scene and has the answers to stop all of this but not at the cost to give it out willingly and Donnie pays the price for it.
This in progress fic contains an accidental mind swapping incident, present and alternate future timelines, betrayal, a wonāt stop at all costs oc villain, and mystic powers.
Further details about this au are through this previous post.
#rottmnt#rottmnt au#rottmnt movie#rottmnt apocalypse#rottmnt krang#rottmnt epf#donnie rottmnt#leo rottmnt#mikey rottmnt#raph rottmnt#purple dragons#big mama#april rottmnt#rottmnt cassandra jones#rottmnt casey jr#rottmnt splinter#rottmnt sunita#oc#mind swap
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a rant/series of ideas
So I've posted these on SB before but to put it simply, the phandom is stagnant. The same ideas are repeated over and over again mixed up but too similar to tell apart. Over on ao3s dp crossover section I've noticed a ton of these stories are created after the author reads a prompt here so I figured I'd gather the posts I've made on SB and post them here in hopes those authors can see them. I'm just copy/pasting these so they will look weird as they were originally posted on SB and I can't be bothered to edit them.
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So yall know how d.c. crossovers are really common. Well I just had a small idea to add to the list of why heroes don't usually kill, batman especially. Obsessions can help make ghosts and few people are more obsessed than villains, the heroes know this and don't want to risk powering up their rogue gallery more, especially since hell is real and as we saw with deathstroke/slade it's easy to make deals and return. Just another angle to add for those crossovers. Last thing anyone wants is a ghost/demon empowered joker running around.
We have tons of danny phantom dc crossovers but not a single one has Cujo join the super pets for adventures. This is a crime that should be rectified immediately. Best pup should be allowed to play with Ace and Krypto and fight animal crimes.
What aren't there any stories where danny is in the marvels zombies storyline, or dceased, or blackest night, or even the new dc vs vampires storyline.
Why are almost all horror stories about him being tortured when there are perfectly good zombie apocalypses he can fight in. I'd love to see danny wield a black lantern ring and be in total control because he's already dead and as such doesn't need to eat hearts to gain power.
I'd love to see danny get bite by a vampire only for them to taste what's basically deadmans blood. We need less secret sibling, torture filled, betrayal fics and more danny pulling a doomslayer and fighting trigons armies when he invades.
Pariah Dark pulling amity into the gz would have gotten international attention just like cannon. Something that's brought up but never really explored are meta humans rights clashing with the anti ecto laws, I'd love to see the various magic users testifying in congress, debunking the fentons beliefs that ghosts aren't people and as such deserve the same rights as everyone else.
Also I'd love to see walker put in control of arkham, blackgate, or Belle reve. He'd have those places on lockdown, and the thought of the joker trying to escape only for walker to toss him back in his cell is hilarious to me.
All these DC crossovers but not one shows an alternate danny in the justice lords, injustice, or crime syndicate version of the league.
I'm tired of rereading the same stuff, let me read about an evil crime boss danny or one who rules over the GZ like how the justice lords rule earth, or one that sides with superman after metropolis gets nuked. So many alternate worlds, timelines, and dimensions to choose from and they always pick the same ones.
Forget JLU, YJ, or TT let me see danny in the justice league dark apocalypse war movie as a trigon possed Dan Phantom and have him fight Darksied
The infinite realms is so underutilized in the dc crossovers, and just the phandom in general.
You have an entire dimension that can take you any when and anywhere you want/don't want and you don't use it to let superman meet his parents before krypton blows up, or any other orphan superhero for that matter.
Hell you don't have to save his family, you can set up a stable time loop where this meeting is what convinced them to send him to earth rather then any of kryptons dying colonies.
Have Pandora meet wonder women, I don't think I've seen anything more then a passing reference about her in any dc stories to date. The 4 armed ghost of a Greek Goddess would absolutely be something the Amazon's would want to meet.
I'd love to see more stories exploring the factions in the gz like make up a rivalry between the far frozen and Atlantis before the yetis died out and less stories about Lazarus pits being ectoplasm, and Danny bring the lover/secret brother to the entire bat clan.
Give me poison ivy possed by Undergrowth or the joker being terrorized by the box ghost because joker gas doesn't work on the dead. Hell weather wizard/ any other weather villain teaming up with vortex would be fun. Or have technus hijack brainiac/amazo, now that be a good threat.
Let's see Danny put on the helmet of fate and fight klarion because he's not at the same level as the cosmic forces of order and chaos rather then the gz being some super dimension that John "I sold my soul to 30 devils, 10 gods, an angel and a fae" Constantine is too scared to touch. Pariah was powerful, but he ain't Darkseid, Trigon, Child, or Nekron powerful.
Let's see more, superheroes deal with ghostly shit rather then Danny runs away/moves to Gotham for the 30th time. Like lets say the flash has to deal with Kitty and Johnny joy riding in Central city but he can't touch them or freakshow stops in Gotham and kidnaps Jason since the phandom is obsessed with making him a halfa or halfa adjacent. So much potential and none of it explored!
So, yall know how the phandom likes to make ectoplasm an emotional conduit. Where ghosts either can feel / feed on emotions and ectoplasm can have emitions without being a ghost, usually when talking about the pit rage Jason has in the DC stories. Well, let's roll with that and add the Emotional Entities that the lantern corps use.
If ghosts feed on emotions then the lanterns are basically walking snacks, if they sense emotions then the lanterns are walking flash bangs, and if ectoplasm can have emotions then let's have some ghosts get lantern rings simply because they are emotions given physical forms.
Also, yall know how the Danny defeats pariah and becomes king stories are a whole thing, why doesn't that apply to Dan?
Rant/prompt ideas done for now but I have so many more. Let's bring some life back to this half dead phandom.
#danny phantom#dc fandome#danny fenton#ghost zone#marvel#fanfiction#archive of our own#story ideas#crossover#phandom#young justice#teen titans
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I pretty much never share my playlists, so this is pretty new to me, but I've been itching to show off my pride and joy for a while now, so I thought the Horizon Base Jams would be the perfect chance!
My ship playlist for Day 1 centers around Tilda/Elisabet and Tilda/Aloy. That might be cheating a little, but I'm sure that, for Tilda, the latter is a bit of a continuation of the former, haha ^^ You might know I don't really ship Aloy with anyone, but this can be intepreted as one-sided.
Essay with my reasoning under the cut for anyone who wants it!
Piece of art - An intro to Tilda's relationship with Lis! The obsessive overtones are simply perfect. And, of course, Tilda views the world through an artistic lens, as art is her escape, the main thing that brings her comfort.
Buy the Stars - The only song from Elisabet's POV in this playlist. "You don't know me, how do you own me?" Tilda says in canon that she always felt that she didn't fully know Elisabet, that Lis knew her better than she knew Lis, and I think Lis probably felt the same way.
Left Behind - Now we're getting closer to Tilda's Far Zenith era. Lis and Tilda are running out of time due to circumstances out of their control (the Faro Plague) and end up separated by Zero Dawn and Far Zenith. Whether the "lover left behind" refers to Tilda, because she outlived Lis, or to Lis, because she stayed behind to die on Earth, I'll leave up to your interpretation.
Immortal (Reinairy) - This represents Tilda's grief over Elisabet and her inability to let go, even after a thousand years. I also like to think as the mentions of rain and sunrise and nature in general refer to Tilda longing to see a new, better world, to see "Elisabet's dream" come to fruition.
Of course, "I'll always find you again and again, and I'll lose every version of you" refers to Aloy (and perhaps Beta, if you wish to interpret it that way).
The Zombie Song - The start of Tilda's love for Aloy! It's a post-apocalyptic romance, a little gory and a bit forbidden, and, before Tilda betrays Far Zenith, she and Aloy are fighting on opposing sides. "A love this deep won't stay buried" is yet another reference to Elisabet's death.
How Dare You? - I like to imagine this one as a representation of the feelings going through Tilda's head during the scene at her mansion. Equal parts possessive, overprotective, and desperate, she's finally able to talk to Aloy in person and confess how much she has changed her outlook.
"I'll lock you in a world of my creation and bury the key" refers to how Tilda has already made her plans for the new world, as well as to take Aloy hostage for its sake. And of course, "show me how to fall in love again" is Tilda begging to feel the happiness and comfort she had only felt with Lis once again. Beta couldn't give it to her, but Aloy surely will. Right?
Power & Control - This is mostly a representation of Tilda's alliance with Aloy, but also her defiance of Far Zenith. "You can't have peace without a war," as Tilda must rebel against the Zeniths to earn the happy ending she wants with Aloy.
"You may be good-looking but you're not a piece of art," in particular, is about Beta.
Immortal (Marina) - A good closing song, because it reminds me of Tilda's apparent death. "If I could buy forever at a price, I would buy it twice" could refer either to Tilda wishing she had taken Elisabet with her in the first place, or to her wanting a relationship with Aloy like the one she had with Elisabet.
Love From the Other Side - My crowning jewel! I left it for the very end because I feel like it sums up Tilda's relationship with the Sobecks all throughout her life the best. From the loneliness that permeated her life on Earth and the way she felt out of place in Far Zenith, to the art metaphor, to Tilda's dependence on Lis, to the way they were separated by the apocalypse, to her "falling in and out of love" due to Beta failing to live up to her expectations, to her betrayal of Far Zenith, to her betrayal of Aloy and to the obsessive love that led to her demise, it's my personal favorite without a doubt.
#the cover is from an unfinished wip i am very proud of <33 please appreciate it :)#Spotify#horizonbasejams#horizon forbidden west#tilda van der meer#tildabet#tildaloy#elisabet sobeck#aloy despite the nora#hfw spoilers#deni's stuff#elisabet x tilda#tilda/lis
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Your posts involving Ambulon have got me thinking, and I propose another slightly bittersweet sort of zombie au:
So, as much as Iām open to just about anything happening (itās the zombie apocalypse, Iām guessing even some of the strongest and most self-sufficient people in the world probably end up getting infected just because of small mistakes or overlooks or empathy), I want to believe SO BADLY that Ambulon is probably out there somewhere, way off the radar, either working on figuring out how to reverse the effects or just stop it altogether.
First Aid definitely strikes me as the pediatrician sort of doctor. Ambulon, on the other hand, makes me think of someone whoās been drawn to the immunologyor maybe a virology. Probably works/has worked with Pharma in the past. I donāt know how they would have met and bonded if this were the case though. You could say that maybe Ambulon was sort of First Aidās backup or support through medical school, maybe a mentor. Or all of those, who knows. Either way, theyāre very close and First Aid was probably gutted when he lost contact with Ambulon during the first couple of weeks of the āend of the world.ā
Ambulon kind of strikes me as someone whoās very, very self-sufficient. Probably doesnāt have close family ties, probably lives alone, probably owns some property off the grid somewhere. When shit hit the fan, it sucked, yeah, but I think heās probably a little less sensitive to the dying or to-be-dead than First Aid. Donāt get me wrong, he makes an excellent doctor, but I do believe it wouldāve been easier for him to pack up and head out when he realized things were becoming irreversible than it wouldāve been for First Aid.
ANYWAY, enough backstory lol. I feel like as much as he tries to hide it, First Aid is a pretty open book. Heās very compassionate, very tender, but likeā¦ also an easy target. Thankfully, though, Ambulon isnāt out for blood! This just makes it easier to figure out where First Aid is heading and where heās currently stayingāthat is, once Ambulon needs to get more supplies and deems it āsafeā to head back out into the world.
Gonna try to sum this up in one more paragraph but cue a knock at the Combaticonās farmhouse one day, everyoneās like āhey what the fuckā because zombies canāt knock, right..? And if it were a survivor looking to ransack their house, they wouldāve just come bursting through the door with weapons raised. While Onslaught runs a quick human inventory to make sure no one slipped out of the house when he wasnāt watching, First Aid decides hey, heās gonna go check it out. Itās been, likeā¦ two minutes now, the person is knocking harder, and the entire Combaticon family, despite their reputation, is adamant that NO ONE opens the door. Just imagine First Aidās shock when he opens up the door to find none other than Ambulon standing there, desperately trying to keep his expression stern and stoic to mask the joy and relief he feels at seeing First Aid standing there, unharmed, still okay, still ALIVE. First Aid is in utter shock, and so are the rest of the farmhouseās inhabitants. It takes a good thirty seconds or so until Ambulon clears his throat and is like āwell? You gonna let me in or what?ā
Would go on but thatās already a big ramble as it is. But yeah, just a weekly zombie au ask to give your brain something to consider.
It deleted my response AUGH. Okay. ANYWAY.
I think Ambulon could survive because itās interesting. Could be fun. Really the secret with all writing is you choose who lives and dies based off any number off seemingly arbitrary reasons. So you could have Ambulon alive, or dead; he could have died early on, he could mimic the storyline of the comics and survive then die to some betrayal, he could end up being a sole survivor.
I do Headcanon Ambulon as an immunologist; I can see him having a weak immune system because of some illnesses, so he likes working in the field itself. They probably went to school together and are still friends, maybe they still go out to lunch together; could even work in the same hospital. Endless possibilities.
Really, like any AU, I like seeing people take their favorite character and play around with them- say, Rewind for instance. How would he survive a zombie apocalypse? Would someone have more fun writing him as a survivor in a group, or alone, or dead early on and haunting the narrative. So YEA Ambulon being alive is definitely a fun idea for me. Schrodingers Ambulon.
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Review of: āStake Landā
Stake Land (2010) Writers: Nick Damici, Jim Mickle Directed by: Jim Mickle Stars: Connor Paolo, Nick Damici, Kelly McGillis, Michael Cerveris, Danielle Harris IMDB Rating: 6.4/10 Stars Rotten Tomatoes Audience Score: 62% Runtime: 1 hour, 36 minutes
Spoilers Ahead, You Have Been Warned...
Jim Mickleās filmĀ "Stake Land,"Ā has a different feel, a different vibe than your typical end-of-the-world zombie-vampire apocalypse-type film. TakeĀ āThe Walking Dead,āĀ the more popular post-apocalyptic standard andĀ āThe Road,āĀ the somber tale of a surviving father and his young son in a post-apocalyptic future and 2010āsĀ āStake LandāĀ is somewhere in the middle with a post-apocalyptic world where zombie-vampires rule. The performances, particularly by Connor Paolo as Martin and Nick Damici as Mister, are commendable, grounding the human elements of the plot with believable characterizations.Ā āStake LandāĀ offers a fresh take on the vampire genre, blending elements of horror, drama, and worldbuilding to create a decent movie here. I saw this over the weekend of April 7th, 2024 and was left uncertain as to why I had not heard of this back when it came out. I really liked this. It grabs you from the beginning.Ā āStake LandāĀ stands as a hidden gem in horror, offering an intimate and beautifully crafted story of human survival, not just from zombie-vampires, but other groups of surviving humans. Some that use these creatures as weapons for their own dominance. The movie doesn't shy away from violence or difficult themes, presenting a stark portrayal and more realistic take on a collapsed society. Despite its limited theatrical run,Ā āStake LandāĀ made some noise and earned praise from its audience. Itās original and does not feel forced. It was originally envisioned as a web series before it evolved into a feature film. Mickle's background in horror, demonstrated in previous works likeĀ "Mulberry Street,"Ā shines through here as well.
The story follows MartinĀ (Connor Paolo)Ā and MisterĀ (Nick Damici)Ā as they navigate through a world ravaged by zombie-vampires, encountering both allies and adversaries along the way. The addition of characters like the pregnant BelleĀ (Danielle Harris)Ā adds depth to the story, characters and struggle of the complexities of human survival in the face of horror by the undead and the living.
The notion of humanity is challenged relentlessly as characters confront the dual threats of zombie-vampires and ruthless human survivors. The film portrays a world where the line between humanity and monstrosity blurs, forcing individuals to deal with their moral compasses in the face of loss and death. Whether it's the visceral terror of encountering the bloodthirsty undead or the sobering realization of betrayal by fellow humans. The characters are constantly reminded of their fragile existence. Yet, amid the chaos and despair, moments of compassion, love, humanity and resilience shine through, underscoring the enduring spirit of being human. Despite the horrors surrounding them, the characters cling to their humanity as a beacon of hope, like Kelly McGillisās character of Sister AgathaĀ (a Nun)Ā navigating through the darkness with courage and determination.Ā āStake LandāĀ serves as a poignant reminder of the essence of being humanāadapting, surviving, and finding solace in the bonds forged amidst adversity.
What setsĀ āStake LandāĀ apart is its ability to deliver a compelling story on a small budget of $650,000, utilizing practical effects and smart storytelling to create a fully realized world where you care what happens to the main characters. The film's pace keeps viewers engaged. One would think having this much human-relationship-building in the film that it would be over two hours. This movie moves along pretty quick, but doesnāt feel forced or too long for its 96-minute runtime. The pacing feels very natural, while its atmospheric score by Jeff Grace adds to the overall experience. The special effects and make-up are on point. When it is necessary this movie provides plenty of action, gore and it gets dark with the reality it portrays. It is not shy about its approach to the violence which I was appreciated for. These movies tend to try to scare people rather than just freaking people out with the gravity of reality dealing with circumstances that come with a story like this. While it may not have achieved blockbuster status,Ā āStake LandāĀ remains a fine gem of indie horror films that do not get enough credit. As Danielle Harris herself attests, it's a film that deserves more recognition and discussion within the genre. So, if you're looking for a hidden gem to add to your horror collection, look no further thanĀ āStake Land.ā
āI've seen things you wouldn't believe. Things a boy shouldn't see. I was like any other kid; I didn't believe in the boogeyman. Then the world woke up to a nightmare.āĀ ~ MartinĀ (Connor Paolo).
Review of: āStake Landā (2010) by David-Angelo Mineo 4/7/2024 788 Words
#review#reviews#reviewer#movie#moviereview#reviewig#moviereviewer#reviewing#reviewblogger#reviewers#horror#horrormovies#horrorfan#stakeland#horrorjunkie#horrormovie#horroraddict#horrorfanatic#instahorror#scary#horrorlover#writersnetwork#writer#writers#blogger#bloggers#bloggerstyle#bloggerlife#godblogger#bloggerslife
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Chapter 7 is up now! (2,755 words)
Read it here on AO3: The Last Strange Thing
Rate: Explicit (violence, gore, and s*x) Read tags under the cut for warnings, and details.
Chapter summary: Robin has made it out of the city, and now has to keep herself calm while she waits for Steve to return. She doesnāt know if he is alive or dead, but she forces herself to believe that he is coming back in 3 days time. Those plans change as the barn where they board their horses is infiltrated and Robin has to try to talk herself out of a bad situation.Ā
The journey is full of romance, death, action, and suspense. This is a "The Last of Us" alternate universe. This work is 100% completed, and I will be posting each chapter between now and April 7. Prepare yourself for approximately 52k of action, horror, romance, supernatural happenings, and love.
Read the full series description, additional tags, the monster reference guide, and more under the cut!
Welcome to the apocalypse. The demo-infection has taken hold of the world, and humans are a rare thing these days. Still, people hang on to civilization in pockets across North America and beyond. Hawkins is one such place.Ā Steve Harrington is a scout who runs missions for Hawkins, and on one of those missions, he becomes separated from his scouting partner, Robin. He has to find his way across Indianapolis in an infected world, meeting one very important individual on the way, Eddie. The two of them must trust one another in order to journey across Indiana, while perhaps finding something softer to nurture with one another along the way.
@llamalpaca will be posting some VERY COOL accompanying art that inspired this WHOLE PIECE! So be sure to give them a follow and check out that art piece when it drops in April.
Big thank you to @knormalizeknitting for being my beta reader!
Link to the Monster Reference Guide, here.
Censoring the word s*x so tumblr doesn't get mad at me. Please don't tag with NSFW or other such tags. The post itself is not inappropriate, but I want people who are going to read the fic to be aware of what is there.
Additional Tags: action, romance, hurt/comfort, alternate universe, The Last of Us AU, canon divergence, apocalypse, apocalypse au, body horror, gore, blood, animal and human death, excessive force (weapons), level of violence and graphic nature of imagery that aligns with Stranger Things, dead dove donāt read, dead dove donāt eat, smut, nsfw, frotting, handjob, happy ending, zombies, zombie apocalypse, steddie, stobin, platonic stobin, Steve and Robin are best friends, Steve and Robin are platonic soulmates, slow burn, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, miscommunication, misunderstanding, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Bisexual Eddie Munson, betrayal.
#my_writing#eddie munson#steddie#steve harrington#stranger things#Robin Buckley#Stobin#platonic stobin#stranger things fan fiction#Stranger Things Reverse Big Bang 2024#STRBB24#The Last Strange Thing
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