#zombie-like cranks

[poisonouspastels]

Look Who’s Inside Again - Bo Burnham TW for some minor depictions of gore (zombies and burn injuries) Groda has to deal with the consequences of her actions. White Eyes unfortunately also has to deal with that.

[warmearthworm]

what’s up with the ending of the death cure do they really just fuck off to a beach somewhere and call it a happy ending?

[luveline]

jade!!!! i’m sure you get this a lot but i would die for some hurt/comfort in the steve zombie au universe 🫠🫠🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

hi!! ty for requesting ♡ steve zombie!au (pre-college / mutual pining). fem!reader, 1k

cw violence

Steve swears the chills come before you've even drawn breath to scream. His name, at the very top of your lungs and sharpened into a knifepoint, "Steve! Steve!" 

He drops the lockbox he'd been inspecting without thinking and stands from his squat, setting off at an all out sprint in the direction he thinks you came from. Your third scream cements your location, as does the sound of a scuffle, your pained shouting down the stairs and hiding behind the countertops. 

People are animals, and you're far more vulnerable to a living person than a dead one. There's a tearing sound, fabric stretched until it snaps. Steve thinks the worst. A greasy guy pinning you to the floor, a gun to the soft curve of your neck.  

Steve shouts your name. "Where are you?" he shouts, his throat burning raw. 

"Get off of me!" 

"Stupid bitch." It's a girl's voice, crystalline. "I'll gut you throat to cunt."  

Holy fuck, Steve thinks. Holy fucking fuck. He trips over an overturned postcard stand and slams into the counter, over it, into the room behind it. You have your hand wrapped around your backpack strap, a month's worth of provisions being yanked on by a girl with a knife in her hands. You're both grunting in exertion, the girl's leg slamming up into yours. You take the beating, throwing your hand into her face with a clout.

"Get the fuck off of her!" Steve shouts, barrelling for the stranger. 

The knife presses to your throat. No holds barred. 

"Y/N, let it go!" Steve shouts, a quick command. He'd rather lose the bag than you. A million times over.

You drop your hold on the bag. The girl flinches back, the curve of her knife leaving a dribble of blood behind, startling red that seeps unsympathetic into the grey of your t-shirt. 

She rattles out past fallen bottles, that ever present crunch of glass under her feet like compressed snow. Steve is torn. Two seconds of indecision. Should he follow her? 

He didn't get a clear look at what she did to your neck. He chooses you, he should've chosen you the second he saw blood, but a month of food is a lot. You might die without it. 

"Shit," he hisses, leaping forward to assess your cut. It's dark but not pitch, the line of your cut shining from the very last reflections of sunlight. "How badly does it hurt?" he asks, quickly dropping his bag down the length of his arm. He almost splits the zipper, digging for a clean scrap of cloth. He settles for his last t-shirt, shaking it out before bringing it to your neck.

"The food. The food, Steve, you have to go get it." 

Steve shrugs. He honestly can't think about it right now. He'll explode. "How am I supposed to get it back? We don't have anything to fight with. You have your pen knife, I have a kids baseball bat and a hand crank torch." He frowns and pulls away the cotton. Your cut oozes. He dabs it dry. It oozes more, but there's no white line of dermis peeking through. "I could shove it down her fucking throat." 

You wince. 

"Sorry," he says, though if he's apologising for hurting you or saying something vile, he's unsure. 

"I'm so fucking sorry," you say back, ignoring him. "I'm sorry, Steve, I'm so sorry." Your throat moves under his hand cupping the cloth there. "We're fucked and it's all my fault." 

He can't speak. He doesn't refute your claim, though you're wrong, your words striking a chord deep in the most terrified parts of him. Sometimes, Steve feels that crushing panic of childhood, the feeling of hiding under your bed with a little heart pulsing double time between sore ribs. You're fucked. 

You're a strong girl, but it doesn't take much of Steve's silence for you to start crying. You sniffle and tremble and try to do neither, gently shaking hands reaching for his elbow. "I'm sorry. I'll figure it out." 

Steve moves his fingers along the curve of your neck, lying to himself about what the touch means.

A tear drips down your cheek. He doesn't kid himself into thinking they're purely for him. You're shit scared, you're always hurting, and a minute ago someone was holding a knife to your throat threatening to split you open. He doesn't know if someone's coming back to finish you both off. He needs to do two things at once. 

"Let's find somewhere to sleep for the night." 

"I'm sorry," you say. His throat aches in sympathy. 

"She almost killed you. The last thing I want is for you to die over a couple of cans of tuna and arugula." He taps your jaw with his index finger. "Seriously." 

"I'm fucking useless." 

"Hey, hey." He cups your cheek. "Don't say that shit. Why would you think that? Would you think I was useless, if it happened to me?" 

Your ashamed look breaks his heart. He's in fucking deep shit with you. Lately, it's been getting worse. You break a nail and he thinks about stitching it back on. 

"You're not useless. I don't wanna hear you say that. Okay?" he says sternly. 

"Sorry," you mumble. 

"I'm not sorry. I'll take losing a bag of food over losing you any day." He doesn't give you time to understand what he's said. "Come on. Hold this to your neck. We need to go before she comes back." 

Steve wishes he could say he lets you hold his hand on the walk back to your latest temporary lodgings, but it's more like he takes yours and won't give it back, using the little trembling of your fingers to assess how upset you are. Squeezing when it gets bad. 

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 19: Vampire Knight!Muses x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Multimuse x Fem!Reader

Warning: Mentions of obsession, drinking blood, nothing extremely graphic, but still.

Type: Blurb

Request: N/A

Word count: N/A

Prompt: Tiny blurbs of what my take of Vampire Knight!Muses x Fem!Reader would be like!

Notes: It’s far from perfect but do u see the vision?

Jason Voorhees: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the Forest green grounds. He’s already kind of a zombie, so it wouldn’t be much of a difference physically. I would say maybe his appearance would be cleaner depending on what kind of myth fits your interpretation best. Id say most vampires would have sharp features and so it’d change Jason’s appearance a lot more than most of the characters on this list. Appearance aside, I’d say his naivety would probably get him caught so quick when it comes to feeding, so you both kind of have to be careful when it comes to outings. You’d kind of just play your part as the killers of camp crystal lake, often tormented by curious teens. His priority of course would be to make sure you were alive and safe, even withstanding some of the burns from the sun if he absolutely had to in order to help/protect you.

Michael Myers: Protecting and representing the kingdom of “the horned ones”. Similar to Jason, Michael isn’t shy when it comes to killing, I’d make the assumption he wouldn’t be shy about feeding time either. The shape would definitely be one of the most menacing creatures of this list. He’s already terrifying and pretty much immortal, just imagine adding bloodsucking to the list. He follows you absolutely everywhere, you’re never out of his sight. He’s willing to starve himself for an extraordinary amount of time if you refused to go out with him. Even if he’s not in your sight, he’s absolutely there. Nothings going to harm you, he wouldn’t even allow it to give them a thought.

Tiffany Valentine: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the Hollywood Hills. One of the most beautiful and devoted vampire knights in this list. She’s devoted her decades to fashion, love and culture. She knows how to talk, absolutely. She’s everything she was as a human, but cranked to 1000. Her vampiric features make her appear like a fierce angel. She’s committed to keeping you alive and safe from any rival vampires. Id say she would want you to join her, but after you were completely and utterly sure about it. All the men both supernatural and human that became a threat to you would be crucified without a second thought. If it were up to her, they’d be crucified along the path up to your castle as a warning.

Billy Loomis: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the Woodsboro grounds, first in command. You think he was a heartbreaker as a human? Now enhance his features, along with decades of practice in wooing people. Id theorize that Billy would always revert back to the plain shirts and maybe a leather coat. He’s not shy about making sure you knew he was looking at you while everyone else was looking at him. Even if you didn’t give him the time of night, he always scared away your suitors. At first you thought it was something wrong with you that you never got a call back until the police found bodies piled together, drained of blood and with two puncture wounds along the major artery. The act was horrific, but it was with good intentions, believe it or not. He would welcome you to the night life with open arms.

Stu Macher: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the Woodsboro grounds, second in command. Along with his features being enhanced so would his senses. Id infer he’d use it for the greater good, kind of. Whenever he’d notice anyone putting anything on anyone’s drink, it was always game over. He’d be subtle, but would drag them to the back of the alley, stuffing them in a dumpster after he was done drinking. That’s one less creep in this world, it’s not like it would be on his conscience anyway. He always played the role of a goofy sweetheart, practicing his restraint in the need for blood. He always had the energy to be out until the crazy hours of the morning. If you’d try to keep up with him, of course he would look after you and always get you home, sometimes even wait for you to wake up. Definitely the non traditional knight, but always with the same intentions as one.

Patrick Bateman: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the Manhattan estates. Being a vampire would definitely affect his character and the desire of him wanting to fit in. He’d have no choice but to live the double life, appear to work from home and come up with every excuse to cover his tracks when he can’t be out during the day. Those who share a similar or exact place of origin would know exactly what and who Patrick is. He’s definitely the most respected Knight in the jurisdiction, with loyal servants and He’d still find a way to look more lively, being more picky about his choice of victims and where the purest blood source would come from. Your charm would definitely catch his eye, he’d try to frequent the places you do, trying to be subtle. If he hasn’t gotten your attention now, he’d definitely try his best to woo you, whether it was his appearance or the people he’d bring around. He would never want you to join him, he’s already in agony living the life of the undead, why would he ruin anyone like you?

Leatherface: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the Texan grounds. Add longevity to his endurance and weaponry. Though I still think even as a vampire knight in charge of protecting the Texan plains he would still be somewhat of a hermit, he should never be underestimated. Bubba kills out of fear and family orders, two things that should never mix with the vampiric venom. He’d definitely have a hard time living in the south as the undead creature of the farm, but if he builds more durability he could be one of the most lethal on this list. Again, Bubba kills out of fear, he may not offer anyone who appears to be a threat, much time to explain, which could work either for or against you. If you like to rot at home, he’d be your perfect Vampire Knight. Bubba would do anything to protect you and though he doesn’t know or understand that what he does is pretty gruesome, he’d never inflict any kind of pain or allow any room for suffering when it comes to you. Things get pretty nasty when family is involved.

Harley Quinn: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the Arkham kingdom. Now with enhanced powers and immortality, she’s more agile and aggressive than ever. My take is that any vampire venom in Harley would shorten her temper and while I don’t see her to be a complete sadist if she’s working by herself, she definitely doesn’t give anyone any room for mistakes. Even with the task to be Arkhams knight, that’s exactly what she is, in charge of not having her side of the city overthrown. She would absolutely feed just for the hell of it, especially when she finds herself growing stronger after each life cycle. Given her lack of patience, I would say her relationships would escalate so much faster than in her previous form. She wouldn’t allow anyone around you, deeming them to be a threat and forget about any rival vampire clans trying to get a hold of you. She’s definitely not the stereotypical knight.

Poison Ivy: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the Gotham city Seattle grounds. Her undead body does not keep her from her love for the greenery, though it does put a strain on her ability to properly care for her gardens due to her limited ability to survive in the daylight, she still finds a way to work around it. I would say Ivy never wanted to become a vampire, much less a knight, but she would do the best she could given her circumstances. Definitely one of the most romantic/enchanting creatures on this list, she can also be one of the most devoted. You’d never leave her botanical garden, she’d do her best to make you feel right at home. My take is that she hates drinking blood, she will if she absolutely needs to, but will go the longest she can without feeding.

Steve Rogers: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the Washington state grounds. I think Steve would be absolutely miserable as a vampire, but being a knight would give him a whole new meaning to his existence. All he ever wanted to do was to help and even in his form, he was still able to do so. He would still try to use his abilities to help his country, of course. He’s one of the most noble knights on this list, always ready for battle and to defend those who need it the most. It would absolutely kill Steve to have to feed, but it would have to be done, even though the blood from criminals wouldn’t taste the best, he’d make it work for his own sake. It would be hard for him to adapt to the night life, but you make it easy, especially if you’re a night owl, he learns to loosen up a lot more. He’s always putting you first and it kills him not to be able to live a normal life with you, he would absolutely be against having you join him.

Bucky Barnes: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the Romanian grounds. Kind of similar to Steve, but not enough. I don’t think he would mind the vampire night life. He’d use his new abilities to ensure his loved ones would be 10000% safe though, no matter where he’d be at. I would think it would eat him up as well to have to feed, but being a knight would also help him significantly. Nothing would help him more than his partner and if I’m being honest, I think he would give into turning you before Steve would because he wants you there forever. He would even take you with him on missions just to keep an eye on you, more for his own sanity.

Loki Laufeyson: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the hellish Asgardian realms. The literal definition of a knight, of course everyone would be swooning over him, do you blame them? After some time, Loki grew tired of living a self fulfilling life, living if that’s what you want to call it. When you came into the picture you definitely breathed a new life into him. He’s lived through decades and decades, Loki knew a thing or two about romance and it didn’t take long for you to entangle yourself into his web. He’s had various abilities that he now used to protect and devote himself to your life. You’ll travel with him, talk about various art pieces and writings, he’s the most charming encyclopedia you’ve ever met. Of course he’d do his best to keep you from all the horrid aspects of staying alive in his world, never letting you know much about the gory details.

Cloud Strife: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the Niebelhiem grounds. I think he’d definitely struggle at first, but he’s so lost that having the purpose to serve and protect the kingdom would help him so much. His new abilities would absolutely help both his side missions and his new job title. I don’t think he’d go out of his way to make himself known, but he’s definitely built up a reputation due to his ability to eradicate any threat within reasonable time. He’d never admit it, but once he has someone, their safety would drive him crazy. He’d drop everything to make sure they were safe and use every ability possible to make sure of that. I don’t think feeding would affect him as much as others, he would be repulsed at first, but he does have to ensure he can do his job properly.

Sebastian Michaelis: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the infernal realm. Not much would be different I would say other than having the responsibility of protecting the infernal realm, that would be probably the biggest responsibility on this list. He would absolutely have no issue feeding, in fact he needs to more than any of the muses because I’d argue this would be the biggest and most difficult realm to defend. Sebastian is a sadist and though it would be near impossible for him to have a good relationship with anyone without a contract, if for whatever reason he’d find “the one” or someone he wants to keep by his side, you’d be so safe. Nothing gets past him, it’s actually quite terrifying and even if he’s a knight, he wouldn’t be opposed to indulging in selfish actions given his new title.

Bruce Wayne: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the Gotham City realm. Nothing much would change honestly, he’s already a night owl. If anything this would enhance his abilities even further. Vampire or not, he keeps an eye on you, almost to a fault. Though he has sworn to be Gotham’s dark knight, you will always be his weakness and come first. He will absolutely keep you away from the yucky side of being one of the undead. I think he would also struggle with the idea of having to feed and would have to either create or find a way to survive without having anyone else pay the price for his hunger.

Jason Todd: Protecting and representing the kingdom of the Gotham grounds, specifically crime alley. Possibly one of the most dangerous vampires on this list, and I have killers on here. Id say because his weakness is rage, add vampire venom and the thirst for blood, nobody stands a chance. He’d have the streets cleaned up in no time. Add the idea of him being in love? Game over. Everyone pack up and go home. He’d take over different realms if it meant your safety, sorry. He thinks with his heart not his brain, he would absolutely dread the idea of changing you, but I think he would dread loosing you more. He’s not a stereotypical knight by any means, but he would absolutely be one of the most effective at his job.

[hoshipills]

The world is ending

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x fem!reader

Genre: strangers to ???, Angst, Action, Zombie apocalypse, tiny bits of fluff.

Warnings: blood, zombies, death, profanity, Soonyoung gets hurt pretty often, sometimes there is graphic description of wounds but its not too bad.

Word count: 11.5k

Summary: The world is literally ending. Zombies roam the streets, and blood paints the sidewalks. You didn't know how you will survive in this nightmare. Then you met him – a man with mysterious eyes who saved you from a bunch of zombies at the last moment. The survival of one suddenly became survival of two, side by side, every day a fight. Soonyoung knew how to get through, and you realize you might actually be in love with this man.

Note: I am sorry for taking longer than said 😭😭😭. My exam paper was so hard, I had spent my time re-watching hidden love. also not at all proofread.

Comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

Taglist: @kwonshiho @heeseungthel0ml

Your head throbbed with a splitting headache as you groggily peeled yourself off the couch. The nap was supposed to be refreshing, but instead, you felt like you’d been hit by a truck. You squinted at your watch lying on the table.

16:08.

You sighed, lifting your head and rubbing your temples. The apartment was unsettlingly quiet, a silence that gnawed at your nerves. Something felt...off.

Dragging yourself to the living room, your brows furrowed when you noticed your roommate wasn’t around. Her bedroom door stood wide open, the bed unmade, but the room was empty. You shuffled to the kitchen, half-expecting her to pop out with some lame excuse about losing track of time, but all you found was a sticky note clinging to the fridge: "I’ll get some groceries, there are barely any in the house."

Your stomach growled in agreement, reminding you that the morning’s toast and pasta weren’t cutting it. You yanked open the cupboard doors, only to be greeted by an expanse of barren shelves. Great. You’d have better luck finding food on a desert island.

Two hours later, you frowned. The corner store was a mere fifteen-minute stroll and she wasn’t exactly the type to leave that long without a word. You punched her number into your phone, but each ring that droned on without an answer cranked your anxiety.

Grabbing your jacket and keys, you decided to go look for her yourself. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the streets in shadows of the trees. Your footsteps echoed in the silence, each one louder than the last.

You quickened your pace, your eyes darting around, catching every movement in the corner of your vision. Something was definitely not right.

Then, you rounded the corner. You froze.

Zombies.

Freaking zombies.

Dozens of them, staggering around like they were on a really bad bender, eyes glazed over, their slow, jerky movements more terrifying than anything you’d ever seen in a horror movie.

Your body shuddered as realisation settled in.

Is this a fucking apocalypse?

You stumbled backward, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Your mind raced with a thousand thoughts. Where was your roommate? Was she safe? You pulled out your phone again, hands trembling, and tried calling her once more. Still no answer.

A groan from behind snapped you back to the present. One of the zombies had noticed you. It turned its decaying head, its blank eyes looking into yours. You let out a shriek at the sight of its grotesquely ruptured face. It wasn’t the wisest move, you realised it as soon as you saw it move toward you. You grabbed a thick pipe lying on the ground and sprinted from there, hoping that you would make it to your apartment without any more obstacles.

You ran for a while safely but with your amazing luck, you were met with more zombies, hurdling as if they had been waiting for you to arrive. You lifted the metal pipe up, gathering up every bit of courage you could and swung it hard. Blood sputtered and the zombie fell to the ground. You inhaled an unusually large amount of air through your mouth and continued to swing the pipe so that it could strike the heads quicker.

The metal slipped out of your sweaty hands at a particularly rough strike, and you froze in panic. You saw a zombie, right in the corner of your face.

This was it, you were going to die. You shouldn’t have come looking for your roommate; you should have been in your room, sound asleep, not caring about the mess that the world had become.

You closed your eyes, accepting your fate.

That’s when a tight grip encircled your wrist and tugged you forward to run. You opened your eyes to see the man who had just saved your life. You followed his lead, wherever he was taking you .He stopped, scanning the surroundings for any creatures, gasping for breath.You were a little distant from him when you finally noticed the baseball bat that he was holding in his other hand.

Before you could utter a word, he flung the bat in your direction without warning. “The fuck?” you yelped, ducking just in time to avoid getting brained by the flying object. You were about to burst out and question him about his actions but you looked back to see a zombie that just crumpled to the ground as the bat hit its head with a thud. You instinctively moved away from it, right to this man’s back.

He approached the fallen zombie and retrieved the bat, keeping it in hand for later. He finally looked at you. “What were you thinking? Standing in between them?” he questioned as he approached you and you took a step back.

“I thought I was gonna become one of them,” you muttered.

He shook his head. He looked like he wanted to say something but he didn’t. “We should leave for a safer place,” he said and you nodded.

“Where is your apartment?” he asked and you answered without any hesitation, “Just 2 streets away.” His mouth twitched, “Perfect. We are going there.” He looked at you to see if you were on the same page as him. You exhaled shakily and led the way. He followed you with the bat in his hand. You kept your trust in him, after all, he saved your life a while ago. Moreover, in this mess, you had no other option.

You shuddered at the sound of a thud. Another zombie down.

These fucking zombies.

You started walking, this time closer to him than before. Your area wasn’t busy even in the bustling city. Perhaps that was the reason why there weren’t many of them around. You reached your building and checked your pocket for the keys.

They were there, thank the lord. You were afraid you had lost them on the way.

You both took the steps, reaching your flat on the first floor.

You froze for the second time that day and the reason was same.

Zombies.

A few of them, loitering near your apartment door, their lifeless eyes fixing on you with hunger.

He stepped in front of you, gripping his baseball bat tightly. "Stay behind me," he ordered, his voice low but firm. Without waiting for a response, he charged forward, swinging the bat. The first zombie went down with a sickening crunch, its head caving in under the force of the blow.

You scrambled to the door, hands trembling as you tried to fit the key into the lock. The sickening thuds of the bat striking flesh and bone echoed through the hallway, making your skin crawl.

You finally managed to get the key in and turned it, the door swinging open just as he ran to the door, a few zombies he missed following him.

"Hurry!" he yelled, his voice strained. You darted inside, holding the door open for him as he backed in, using his bat horizontally to give one hard push to the zombies. Once he was inside, you and he, together, forced the door closed as they tried to enter as well. With a heavy grunt, he exhaled and slid down the door, collapsing to the floor.

His hand shook, lips quivering as his panting never seemed to end, his chest rising and falling.

You didn’t know why you thought he was some kind of superhero, not afraid of anything. He was just like you. Just as afraid, just as terrified.

It took you time to notice he was crying. Small sniffs and low sobs escaped his mouth. You settled yourself beside him. What could’ve happened before you met him? Before he saved you? How many people he watched turn into the living dead?

“Hey, it’ll be alright,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you believed it yourself.

“I watched them, my friends,” he sniffed, “Only I was able to survive,” he mumbled.

Your heart sank. You didn't know what to say, so you simply sat beside him, offering silent support. The room was quiet except for his occasional sniffles and the distant groans of zombies outside. You both knew that the world had changed forever, and survival was a daily struggle. You couldn’t process much of the situation, given the hurry and panic you were in. Now, your mind is being flooded with worry, realising that you were actually in an actual zombie apocalypse and your loved ones were also in danger. You, however, didn’t let any of it show on your face.

“Soonyoung,” he said suddenly.

You turned to him and blinked in confusion.

“My name,” he clarified. “I’m Soonyoung.”

“____,” you replied, giving your name. He nodded, taking a deep breath.

“What do we have here?” he asked, looking around the apartment.

“Not much,” you admitted. “My roommate was supposed to get groceries but….” You trailed off, unable to continue. He nodded, understanding.

“Let’s search then,” he said, getting to his feet. You joined him, moving through the apartment to gather supplies. You found some canned food, a few bottles of water, and a first-aid kit. It wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing.

You laid your findings on the dining table. “This should last us a few days,” you said, looking at him. He looked a bit sceptical , eyes tracing over the little to no food on the table. Eventually, he nodded his head.

He rested on the bed, his body sore from the earlier fight. You took on the job of preparing two sandwiches with the ingredients you managed to gather. There were four pieces of bread in the refrigerator, and you found a nearly empty mayo bottle on the kitchen counter. Perhaps it was kept there to be thrown out that day. You were glad it wasn’t, as suddenly the last bits of mayo seemed more precious. You squeezed the bottle to get every bit out, adding some leftover corn and called it a sandwich.

You handed him the sandwich. “I am not exactly a chef, just think of it as some gourmet meal,” you said with a dramatic sigh, trying to make him smile as he had been gloomy for a while now. You got it, the situation you both found yourselves in wasn’t the most ideal but a little smile wouldn’t hurt anybody.

It might’ve worked. He smiled as he took the sandwich and bit it, “Mmh, worth a million,” he murmured with his mouth stuffed. You bit back a smile, eating your own sandwich.

You hadn’t noticed it in the chaos but he was handsome. His face lit up when he smiled, reaching all the way to his eyes. There was a strange glow there, mysterious and bright, it made you want to learn about him more.

He continued eating the sandwich, his shoulders relaxing a little as he relished the simple meal. 

You couldn't help but notice how weary he looked, almost exhausted. The bags under his eyes were more pronounced, and his breathing was still laboured. 

He finished his part of the meal rather quickly. You were still munching on yours, slowly biting and chewing every bit thoroughly. 

“ You are a slow eater, I see.”, he said, getting up from the bed and stretching his body. 

You were mid-bite when he spoke, cheeks filled like a squirrel's. His sudden comment caught you off guard, but not in an unpleasant way. You swallowed your mouthful of food before replying.

"Ah, habit," you offered, a little sheepish. "I've always taken my time while eating. My mom always said rushing through your meals isn't good for your digestion."

Silence fell over when you were reminded of your mother and your family’s safety. your appetite disappeared as your chewing got a little bit slower. 

Soonyoung noticed the way your eyes lost their shine. He moved closer to you, hesitant at first but then sitting down beside you on the bed. His voice was gentle as he spoke, his eyes fixed on your face. "Eat up, we need some strength if we want to make it through.”

You nodded, forcing yourself to take another bite. The taste was bland, but you knew he was right. You both needed all the strength you could muster. As you chewed, you glanced at Soonyoung. He was gazing out the window, lost in thought.

“ Soonyoung.”, you called out his name and he looked at you. 

“ What were you like? You know, before all this.”, You asked, finally completing your sandwich. 

“ I am not that interesting. I have a usual job in a company, few quirky friends and a routine life.”, he spoke, his voice low.

“You never know,” you shrugged. “Sometimes the most normal lives end up having the craziest stories.”

“ Yes but mine is as boring as watching paint dry," he said. 

“ If the painting is good enough, I would watch it dry," you said and he laughed. “ Perhaps but mine won’t have that many colours.”

“ Excuse me? Are you trying to imply that only colours make the painting?”, you said and he shrugged.” you can’t paint without colours.”

“ Yes but you know that's not what I mean.”, you playfully rolled your eyes. After a while the room fell quiet and you spent time looking out the window at the moon.

-

It was already 2 am, and both of you were exhausted, your eyes aching for some rest. You had settled down on the bed, watching as he got up and started moving towards the door.

“Where are you going?” you asked, your voice heavy with fatigue.

“To the other room to sleep?” he replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“I think it's safer if we sleep in this room with the doors and windows locked,” you said, glancing around the room. He paused, considering your words.

After a moment, he nodded, coming to the conclusion that you were right. He picked up some bed sheets, preparing to sleep on the floor. You frowned at first but then realised what he was doing.

“You can sleep beside me, I really don’t mind,” you said, your voice gentle. You watched his face, searching for his reaction.

Soonyoung hesitated, looking down at the sheets in his hands. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice cautious. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You offered him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure. Besides, it’s safer if we stay close. Just in case anything happens.”

He nodded, though still looking a bit uncertain. He put the sheets aside and moved toward the bed. “Alright, if you’re okay with it.”

As he settled beside you, there was a brief moment of awkwardness. Both of you were acutely aware of the closeness. You could feel the warmth radiating from his body, a comforting reminder that you weren’t alone in this nightmare.

The silence was broken by a thought that had been nagging at you. You turned to him, voice soft and earnest. “Thank you for saving me.”

He let out a sleepy chuckle, a sound you hadn’t heard from him before. It was unexpectedly melodious, “It was hours ago. Don’t mention it.”

“But it doesn’t change the fact that you saved me,” you said.

There was no immediate response, and you turned your head to see him fast asleep beside you. His breath was getting even and the exhaustion was clear on his face. He must have been really tired.

-

Two days in and the power went off. The pitch darkness in the nights was scary, but not as scary as those zombies downstairs, you rather not open the windows to see them. You both had been sitting in the bedroom most of the time, occasionally venturing to the kitchen for food. Soonyoung had apparently lost his phone while on the run, and you were left with just yours for any information.

But it was barely useful. With no proper signals, you decided to check your messages for any updates or safety measures from the government or authorities.

Your eyes immediately caught sight of a message you had received. "Soonyoung, come here," you called, waving him over to take a look as well.

“ Attention, all survivors. This is an official message from the government. We understand these are harrowing times, and your safety and wellbeing are our top priority. We advise all survivors to remain indoors for the time being. Our teams are working tirelessly to establish safe zones and provide essential resources such as food, water, and shelter. Stay strong, remain hopeful, and do not panic.”, You read it out and glanced at Soonyoung to see his face not amused at all. He looked away from the phone and groaned as he layed back on the bed.

“ Do not panic.”, he repeated, “ How can we not?”, he left a sigh of frustration, running his hand through his hair. 

You put your phone down and nodded along, knowing there wasn’t much you could say.

Four days in and it started to drizzle, adding to the mess.

If anything you have learned about Soonyoung in those four days is that Soonyoung loved to talk, a complete opposite to you who would much rather sit and listen. You learned that he went to karaoke every weekend for stress relief and had an obsession with tigers( he showed you a tiger charm in his wallet as proof). He learned that your favourite colour was lavender and you had a soft spot for kids. 

“ …and I just fell on the grass. There was mud all over my pants. It all just happened in front of her and she didn't talk to me for the next 5 days.”, he pouted slightly. 

You chuckle at his face, finding it a bit too cute for your liking. 

He finally finished his yap of the day and rested on the bed, waiting for you to sleep as well but your mind was occupied by the fact that the small drizzle was growing into a thunderstorm and you were freaking terrified of thunderstorms.

You tried to play it off cool, smiling like usual and made your way to the bed and slept beside him, taking in a deep breath. 

Your hands slightly tremble around the blanket on top of you, you pull it further up your face, hoping it would mollify the sounds of the thunder. 

he turned his body to face you and asked, “ Afraid of thunder, are we?”

You shook your head and closed your eyes tightly. The first thunder hit and you practically flew out of the bed by the way you got up, opening your eyes. You pressed your lips into a thin line, glancing at Soonyoung who gave you a blank stare. 

“ Yeah, totally not afraid.”, he muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. “It’s silly, I know.”

“It’s not silly,” he said, getting up and you were taken aback by how sincere he sounded.  “We all have things that scare us.”

You appreciated his attempt to comfort you, but the next clap of thunder had you jumping again. He sighed, moving closer to you, slightly wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “ Is this okay ?”, he asked. 

You didn’t bother responding as you wrapped your arms around him tightly. He tightened his grip as well, slowly laying down so that both of you could drift off to sleep. 

You felt so safe under his touch, it surprised you. He was gentle with every stroke he gave to your shoulder, mumbling sweetly into your ear that everything was going to be fine. For a moment, you forgot about the zombies and the thunder, all the fears and worries vanishing. It was just you and him, it created an unknown fuzzy feeling in your chest. 

Six days in and you reached your final stage of grief: acceptance. You both now just laid on bed, staring at the ceiling that suddenly seemed interesting. Even Soonyoung ran out of his rants which was getting weird as you were getting used to it.

Soonyoung opened his mouth finally, “ There is a guitar in the other room, is it yours?”, he asked and you turned your face to him, who was looking at the ceiling intensely. “ No, my roommate’s," you reply, returning your gaze to the ceiling.

“ Musician?”

“ No, a hobby.”

You saw him nod from the corner of your eye. 

After a pause, he spoke again, “ Can I play it?”

You turned your head to look at him, seeing a spark of curiosity in his eyes. "Sure, why not?", you said. "It's not like we have much else to do."

Soonyoung got up from the bed and went to the other room, returning shortly with the guitar in his hands. He sat down on the bed, in front of you, a bit closer than usual. He strummed a few chords, tuning the instrument until it sounded just right.

You watched him, fascinated by the way his fingers moved effortlessly over the strings. "Do you play often?" you asked, genuinely curious.

He smiled, a bit shyly. "I used to but later got busy with life."

You nodded, understanding. "Play something," you encouraged.

He started playing a familiar tune of a song and you quietly hummed along.

He began to sing. His voice was more huskier and deeper when he sang and you liked it. You could tell he loved music. He had a faint smile on his lips as his fingers moved on the guitar strings. You closed your eyes to feel the rhythm more.

When he finished, you opened your eyes and saw him looking at you, a small smile on his face. "That was beautiful," you said softly.

"Thanks," he replied, setting the guitar aside. His gaze was fixed on you and you stared back. There was something about his eyes that pulled you in. You even noticed it in the past few days when he rambled. His eyes were so expressive, a glow always lingered in there no matter what. 

He slightly hummed the song he sang before, back to his position of laying on the bed. You blinked, forcing yourself to look away. There was a flutter in your chest for a reason you couldn’t figure out why. You have been trying to ignore that feeling for a while. Is it the growing affection for him for being by your side or is it because you simply found him attractive? With the world as it was, figuring out feelings was definitely not on your to-do list.

Eight days in and you were drowning in boredom. Soonyoung said it was actually nine days but it didn’t matter. What really mattered was the decreasing amount of food in the kitchen and the increasing amount of worry in your head. 

You have been eating very conservatively, you were sure that you even skipped eating for a day, but the food was just not sufficient.

You both knew that in a day or two, you must go outside to get some food but both of you haven't talked about it yet. He instead began practising taekwondo kicks and you wondered how many talents that man had up his sleeve. You weren’t complaining because it was quite entertaining to watch him.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching Soonyoung nail yet another perfect kick. You’d lost count of how many times he’d practised that move, but it still made you smile a little.

“Does it ever get boring?” you asked, half-joking, half-serious.

Soonyoung paused, wiping the sweat from his brow with a grin. “Boring? Never. But, you know what is getting boring?” He pointed to the almost empty kitchen. “Pretending we’re not running out of food.”

You sighed, glancing over at the nearly empty shelves. “Yeah, I guess ignoring it isn’t working anymore.”

He dropped down beside you, “We’re gonna have to go out there, aren’t we?”

“Looks like it,” you replied, though neither of you moved. A few more moments of silence passed before you finally stood up, heading to the closet.

“What are you doing?” Soonyoung asked, curious.

You pulled out a big bag, throwing it over your shoulder with a smirk. “Getting ready. This is for all the food we’re about to haul back.”

He let out a laugh, “Optimistic?”

“You have to be,” you shot back, smiling despite the nerves creeping in.

He shook his head, still smiling, and stood up to join you. “Alright, let’s do this.”

-

Soonyoung took the lead as you both stepped out into the street, the big bag slung over your shoulder. You gripped the handle of the bat in your hand, ready for anything.

“You sure you’re ready for this?” Soonyoung asked, glancing back at you with a mix of concern and teasing.

“More ready than you are,” you counter, trying to keep the mood light.

“Is that so?” he grinned, raising an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.”

As you rounded a corner, the grocery store came into view. Soonyoung signalled for you to stop. A handful of zombies milled about near the entrance, oblivious to your presence—at least for now.

“Great, just what we needed,” you whispered.

Soonyoung’s expression grew serious. “Alright, quick and quiet. Let’s get this done.”

You both moved closer, and the first zombie turned toward you, letting out a low groan. That was all it took to alert the others.

“Here we go,” Soonyoung muttered, stepping up to take the lead.

You moved inside the store as he distracted the zombies. The first thing you saw was a piece of clothing lying on the ground. You ignored it and moved to shelves that had some chips packets. You shoved them all inside. 

You heard a zombie groan that made you shiver. There were zombies even in the store as well? You groaned in annoyance before running from there to the fridge where it had a stack of water bottles. You put them inside as well. 

You looked back to see Soonyoung in the store now, facing four zombies.

His hands gripped the shelf of paper towels by the edge and pushed downwards which made the four zombies crush beneath it. You gasped at the sight of blood spreading near your leg. You jumped through it to grab the 2 cereal boxes on the opposite shelf. It was fruit loops, not a bad cereal to eat as a meal, right? You still shoved the boxes into the bag, ignoring all sorts of questions.

You moved forward to other shelves, hoping to find any other proper edibles. Your eyes caught hold of the huge pack of crackers. That one pack alone could handle your hunger for a week. You lounged towards it but another zombie came from the corner, ready to attack. Taking the broken piece of shelf from the ground, you continue to go in the way- you weren’t ready to give that pack up. 

You balanced the bag in your one hand while using the other to hit the zombie with the broken piece, landing both your weapon and the zombie on the ground. Your hand reached the pack of crackers, admiring the delicious snack for a bit, you put it in the bag, already feeling the bag getting too heavy. Your hands could barely manage the weight of the bag, you kept everything you could, everything you found to be not damaged. You swung over your shoulder, eyes scanning your surroundings for Soonyoung, so you could go back to your house. 

He was at the far end of the aisle, fighting off two zombies. He was cornered between them and a rack of rice flour, looking desperate. One zombie had its grubby hands around his neck, and you shouted in panic. The noise distracted the zombie just enough for Soonyoung to push it away and try to slip through a gap between the zombie and the shelf.

You dropped the food bag and grabbed a heavy package of grains, hurling it at the zombie. It went down with a thud, and Soonyoung stumbled into view. Your heart dropped at the sight of him—blood seeping through his shirt and pooling around his stomach. The sharp edge of the shelf had torn his shirt and sliced into his torso.

Panic surged through you. You dropped to his side, your mind racing. “Soonyoung!” You called, but he was barely conscious, cursing under his breath as he gripped his stomach. His eyes were tightly shut and he put his arm on your shoulder for support.

You barely registered the food bag as you frantically checked the wound, your hands trembling. Blood was flowing too quickly, and you needed to do something—anything—to stop it.

The torn piece of cloth before crossed your mind. “ Soonyoung, wait for me?”, you said softly before getting up and running to the aisle you saw earlier. The cloth was still lying on the ground, and you thanked the gods for not letting it cover with any zombie blood.

You tied the piece around his stomach, pressing it tightly to avoid blood loss. He hissed in pain, his hands turning into fists to control himself from being loud. The last thing you would want is to attract the attention of the zombies. The cloth got stained red as well, but it was the best you could do under those circumstances. You helped him stand up, knowing you have to find a more closed and safe place for him to heal. 

You could feel your eyes becoming watery, your one hand holding the food bag and the other supporting him to walk outside. You saw a zombie at a distance. You took a deep breath, preparing to drop the food bag and find a way to deal with the zombie, but before you could act, you heard a whoosh and a sickening thud.

The zombie collapsed, its head crumpling under the force of a bat. You turned your head to see a man- probably younger than you with his boyish face. 

He strode towards you, “ are you guys okay? "he asked. He seemed to realise how stupid the question was when he glanced towards half- conscious Soonyoung leaning on you. “ shit.”, he muttered under his breath before turning his head to look around, “ uhm, follow me.”, he said as he picked up the bat from the ground, safely guarding while leading towards a path you weren’t sure of. Visibly, Soonyoung was getting weaker every passing second and you tried your best to take more steps. There were a few zombies along the way which the guy managed to hit successfully. It didn't take him more than 1 strike to take them down and it wasn’t a surprise seeing his buff arms. You finally reached a place. It was a café, ‘ coffee beans’, the board read. There were huge windows which were covered by curtains and the lights around it were broken. The guy knocked on the door of the café and a woman peeked out to see who it was before opening it fully, she frowned upon seeing us behind him. The guy didn’t give her enough time to reach before allowing himself inside and gesturing to you to come inside as well. 

You did, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. He closed the door behind you and you were met with stares of about 20 people, some of them were in uniform by which you could tell they were the staff. 

“ Chan, you were only sent to bring water. Who are they?”, the girl who opened the door spoke to which a few people nodded. “ Send them out immediately.They seem infected”, a man spoke hastily as he gave a nasty look to both of you. 

“ Oh, Mr.Yoon, they are no danger.” Chan tried to speak but Mr.Yoon only gave an angry glare, “ I am the owner, I can decide who stays and who doesn’t”, he said and for a minute you were afraid you were actually going to be sent out. 

Chan stepped forward to him, “ Mr.Yoon, he clearly needs help. I have a plan.”, he tried to persuade him. Mr.Yoon was about to throw a comment but Chan cut him off, “ They could stay in the store room until tomorrow morning. If they turn, we’ll be safe as the door will be locked. If not, we can help them out.”

The cafe owner looked sceptical. ” we can’t just-”, an old lady began.

“ I have food and water in this bag.”, you said, hoping it would convince everyone. They all seemed defeated at that and there were a few murmurs before they agreed. 

Chan led you to the storeroom. “ Can I get a first aid kit?”, you asked when you reached the storeroom. Chan excused himself somewhere before returning with a kit. “ Just take what's needed. If something happens, we need the kit, right? There is only one.”, he said and you didn’t object, taking a long roll of bandage, cotton and antibiotic cream. He also handed you a water battle to which you could only look at him gratefully. You stepped inside with Soonyoung on your side. The door was closed behind you. The room was like a typical storeroom, with boxes of unused supplies stacked away, a small window which allowed some evening light inside. There was a bulb as well, but it barely produced light. There was a mop aside and the thing that crossed your mind was how good of a weapon it would be. 

You quickly laid Soonyoung on the floor, leaning him against a wall as you removed his shirt and the piece of cloth you tied around his wound. You left a shaky breath at the sight of his blood covered torso.

He winced loudly when you started to clean his wound, his mind clouded with pain. He half opened his eyes, keeping his focus on your face. 

“I’m alive?”, he mumbled as he tried to smile. “ Keep quiet.”, you replied, reaching for the antibiotic cream. He reached to grip your free palm tightly as you started to apply the cream to his cleaned wound. He left a loud yelp.

“I am sorry.”, You mumbled while still focusing on the wound, “ I am so sorry.”

You could only imagine how it hurts. The wound wasn’t too deep but it was big. It stretched from the side of his lower abdomen, curving upward to just beneath his ribcage.

You quickly rolled the bandage over the cut and dressed it. 

He left a groan as he tried to sit more properly but you stopped him by gently placing your hand on his shoulder. “ I didn't know you could do this.”,he left a pained laugh and you settled yourself beside him before replying, “ I just know the basics. I guess I did well enough under pressure.”, you said and felt his hand grasp yours slowly. You didn’t refuse the touch, holding his hand back.

“ I feel better.”, he said, barely moving his lips.” Thanks.”

You shook your head in response, “ It was the least I could do.”

He stayed quiet after that, drifting off to sleep as his head laid on your shoulder.

The morning you woke up with the sunlight hitting your eyes through the window. You shuffled on the ground, holding soonyoung’s head to rest it on a box beside instead. You noticed how you were still holding hands. Your cheeks grew hot slightly as you separated your hands, standing up to knock on the door.

After a while, a voice spoke through it, “ Hello?” you recognised the voice to be Chan's.

“ We are fine.”, you replied and the door opened. Chan’s eyes scanned the both of you, sighing in relief to see neither of you turned.

“ I think he needs rest.”,you said, eyes trailing over the dressed wound.

Chan nodded in agreement, before leading you outside for some food. You ate some bread and that was enough to fill your stomach. As it was a cafe, they said they had enough coffee so you were offered a cup as well. You drank it gladly, savouring the flavour after a long time.

Chan sat in front of you and there was a small girl beside him. “ This is my niece, Yerim”, he said. 

You were surprised to see that she actually gave a blinding smile to you. You couldnt help but smile back, bending down to introduce yourself, “ I am ___”, you said.

“ Hello.”, she said shyly, scooting closer to her uncle. She stood quietly as Chan started speaking, “ Don't worry about others, they will come around.”

You nodded, remembering the weary looks you received that morning. “ By the way, thanks for bringing us here.”, you made sure to thank him and he just laughed, “ No big deal. I did what felt right.”

“ So this cafe..”, you began and chan immediately caught on your doubt.

“ Ahh, when zombies broke out, the customers here and the staff, we locked everything when we saw it. The cafe owner was also here yesterday, you…uh…met him yesterday, Mr.Yoon.”, he said and you nodded in understanding. You were just grateful they let you stay.

It was afternoon when Soonyoung woke up. Chan helped you get him to one of the tables. He ate a few crackers and drank a can of juice. 

Soonyoung didn’t speak much as he went back to resting in the storeroom again. 

It took him a few days to heal. You just spent the time sitting with Yerim who grew more talkative as time passed. She kind of reminded you of Soonyoung by the way she ran her mouth continuously. 

As soon as Soonyoung began to recover, he started moving around the café in an overshirt Chan had given him, which he wore buttoned up as a makeshift shirt. Unlike you, he talked with everybody and nobody gave you those weary looks anymore. 

They all grew fond of Soonyoung, except that cafe owner- who wasn't much fond of anyone anyway. He quickly became one of the people who helped around, making sure everyone ate.

The only people you talked to were Chan and Yerim. You sometimes helped Soonyoung. When you weren’t helping, you took care of Yerim as Chan went to help instead.

Apparently nobody used the storeroom, so you made it your personal space. Soonyoung and you alone went in there at night to sleep or to talk. He was back with his rants and you almost squealed in excitement. You missed them too much for your own sake and you think you could listen to him talk for years straight. 

Everybody finished their dinner, getting ready to sleep. Some slept on tables or chairs, some on the ground as they used curtains as bed sheets.

You found yourself in the storeroom, waiting for Soonyoung to come. You peeked into the box in boredom. Your eyes caught an old, ornate box half-buried under some crumpled newspaper. You pulled the box out and wiped off the layer of dust. It was a music box. A feeling of nostalgia filled your insides, remembering your childhood days when one of these laid around in your house.

The box’s latch was rusty but still functional. You carefully opened it, and a soft, melodious tune began to play. A smile spread across your face. You listened to the sound intently when soonyoung walked in, gasping slightly as he saw what was in your hand.

“I haven’t heard a music box in years.”, he said, crouching down to look at it. You handed it over to him and he carefully studied it.

“ It's definitely an old model, probably my grandma owned one like this.”, he said and you chuckled. 

He abruptly got up after placing it on the ground, moving his hips in a way that made you laugh, “ are you seriously dancing?”, you asked though you wouldn't really call whatever he was doing a dance. 

“ You wanna join?”, he said, stretching his hand forward for you to grab. You looked at his hand and then his face. There was a warmth in his eyes, a sincerity that made it hard to resist. You took his hand, allowing him to pull you gently to your feet.

The two of you started to sway together, your movements tentative at first, trying to match the rhythm of the music box. Soon, you found yourself laughing and moving more freely.

“See? Isn’t this fun?” Soonyoung said, his voice bright and cheerful as he twirled you around slightly.

You laughed again, the sound mingling with the melody. “Definitely fun. I forgot how nice it feels to just... let go.”

As you danced together, you couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt to be close to him. It was so easy for him to make you laugh and make you feel at ease. 

-

You honestly don’t know how you ended up in this position. The morning sunlight filtered through the small window, casting a warm glow over the storeroom. There you were, cuddled up against Soonyoung. His arms were wrapped around you tightly, his head nestled in the crook of your neck, snoring quietly. You tried to shift, but his hold on you only tightened. All you remember was closing the music box and falling asleep together on the floor.

Soonyoung stirred beside you, his breath warm against your neck. He blinked groggily, the confusion of waking up in such an intimate position slowly turning to realisation. His eyes widened as he registered where he was, and he pulled away slightly, his cheeks flushing a deep red.

“Oh,” he said, “Uh, good morning?”

You looked up at him, your own cheeks heating up. You tried to form a coherent response, but all that came out was a nervous laugh. “Good morning,” you managed, your voice soft and awkward.

Soonyoung fumbled to get up but ultimately remained seated, his face still flushed. “I didn’t mean for—” he started, but his words stumbled. “I guess we just... fell asleep.”

You nodded, trying to regain your composure. “Yeah, I guess so.”

The two of you sat there for a moment, the silence only filled with Soonyoung’s continued attempts to smooth down his dishevelled hair.

“ uh, I will go check up on Yerim.”, You said before getting up and rushing out the room before it could get any more awkward. 

-

After breakfast, you watched Soonyoung. He was helping Chan and Yerim with some supplies, moving around the cafe.

Soonyoung was digging through a box of canned goods, chatting away and laughing at whatever Chan was saying. He looked completely at ease, like he was born to bring a bit of brightness to any situation. He even took a moment to playfully ruffle Yerim's hair when she handed him a can.

You leaned against the counter, just observing. Everything he did felt so familiar.

How long have you known him? A month or two? But why didn't it feel like it? 

It felt like you have known him for years, as if you grew up with him in the same neighbourhood, skipping stones in the small pond near your house and swinging till the evening shadows faded into the dim lights of the park.

Maybe it was you in your previous lives or a parallel universe- if they ever existed. But you knew there was some connection. It lingered in your heart, you couldn’t tell what it was but it was there and you could say that with your whole chest.

Your thoughts were interrupted when he looked in your direction to make eye contact. He winked at you as he caught you staring. You rolled your eyes in an attempt to conceal your flared cheeks.

He laughed before going back to his business. 

The day ended and all that replayed in your mind was the way he winked in your direction. That night you ate a packet of chips for dinner and as usual, waited for him in the storeroom. He bought himself a packet of chips as he didn't eat anything yet, plopping himself beside you on the ground.

His face shone in the light of the dusk, hands carefully tearing open the packet of chips—none of it going to waste. He looked at you with those eyes. Those eyes that glossed more than they ever did, lips slightly apart.

He was beautiful.

And no, you didn't mean beautiful like the rain but beautiful like the storm before it. Not like the sunset but the wildfire burning through the night.

He was breathtaking.

"____, you are staring," he said, tossing a few chips into his mouth.

You didn’t respond. It didn’t feel necessary, and he didn’t seem to expect an answer either. Your gaze trailed to his lips as he chewed on the food.

The world was literally ending and all you wanted to do was kiss him. You wanted to hold him so close to your body, limbs tangled, and your hands running through his hair.

He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly, and you felt your heart skip a beat. "Are you okay?" he asked, slightly concerned that you weren’t even talking, just staring at him in silence.

You nodded, but the truth was far from simple. How could you explain the wave of emotions raging inside you? How could you put into words the way his presence ignited a spark in your chest?

"Yeah, just... thinking," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers down your spine. "Thinking about what?"

You, you wanted to say, let him know how much you craved him but you couldn’t. The words died in your throat. "Nothing in particular."

He crumpled the empty packet, throwing it beside him. He softly smiled and leaned back further into the wall. He looked almost ethereal, and it took every ounce of your self-control not to reach out and touch him.

He frowned slightly, his gaze on your shoulder. He brought his hand to dust something off from there and that was the last straw. You closed the distance between you, your lips pressing softly against his. But quickly, you pulled away. What have you done? He might have already been thinking you were a creep, and now you made a move which confirmed that.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I- I shouldn't have done that."

"It's okay," he said softly, his voice tender. "We're both just… touch-starved."

You freeze for a millisecond but then quickly shake your head, your eyes locked onto his. "No," you said firmly, feeling a wave of frustration, why would he even think so? Sure, you didn’t put the way you felt for him in words but wasn’t the way you stared at him enough? Like he was the only person you ever wanted to look at?

"I didn’t kiss you because I was touch-starved."

He remained quiet, his eyes searching yours, waiting for you to continue. "I would never kiss someone just because I'm touch-starved," you paused, "or because I am bored." He looked away, processing your words. The tension could literally be felt in the air, every moment stretching out like an eternity. Something seemed to hit in his mind. He pressed his lips together, hesitant to speak the words swirling in his mind.

“Then tell me,” he finally said, his voice almost pleading. “Tell me you meant that kiss.”

He shifted his gaze to you, and suddenly you felt nervous under him. Your teeth grazed your bottom lip slightly and you swallowed a bit, gathering your words.

"Soonyoung, I—" Before you could finish, he pulled you into a kiss, this one more passionate, more desperate. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as if he couldn't bear to let you go. You melted into his embrace, your hands tangling in his hair, his locks as soft as you had imagined. His hand made its way to your face and he held it gently, trying to bring your face closer than it already was.

He pulled away just to lean in once again, this time going for your neck and gently grazing his teeth against the skin there. You gasped at the sudden feeling.

His mouth immediately zeroed in on the area where you gasped, gently nipping and sucking the tender skin there. The feeling of his hot, wet kisses against your neck was intoxicating and he pressed his body even closer to yours. His one hand rested on your shoulder, the other tightly gripping your hip.

You closed your eyes and threw your head back, giving him more space to kiss easily.

A surge of shouts engulfed your ears. He pulled away immediately at the sound, hyper-aware of the shouts that were coming in from the other room. Your mind couldn't even process the loss of touch due to how loud the sounds were. You thought a zombie might have attacked. You were about to stand up when he pressed his hand on your shoulder to let you stay in place. If anything happened, he wanted you to be the last one to get hurt.

Just a minute ago, his face was filled with passion and intensity you had never seen before. Now his expression was replaced by a much more serious one. He got on his knees to check through the small opening of the door and your speculations were confirmed by the way his face fell into panic, his hand moving to grasp your hand.

He looked over at you and you understood what he meant.

Time to run, again.

There was no use sitting in the room forever. Sooner or later you must go outside and you let that be this time.

He swiftly got up from his position, moving urgently as he held your hand tightly, pulling you up. His hand gripped the door knob, pushing the door open. It drew some attention, a zombie twisted its head towards you. Soonyoung’s grip tightened on your hand. He pulled you along with him to run forward.

You both halted when you realised that there were more zombies than you had thought. The door was open and the curtains on the window were ripped. Two zombies lunged towards you and Soonyoung immediately got hold of the mop at the side. He began hitting them and you slightly left his side to take the broken wooden leg of a table for a weapon of your own. You started to fight as well, using all your strength to take down the zombies, not only for yourself but the people around you.

Your eyes caught Chan briefly, who had Yerim at his back, trying to protect her as he shoved the zombies with a table he lifted up. Yerim didn't cry. She closed her eyes tightly, keeping all her trust in her uncle, moving according to his body moments. 

The lady fell down near the corner, her spectacles landing on the ground as well. You ran towards her to help her up. Another zombie made its way towards you when you reached her. You handed her spectacles quickly before striking the zombie roughly. The lady muttered a thank you but you could barely consider it, holding her hand to pull her towards a safer place. 

Chan noticed you, taking yerim by his hand to get near you in a hurry. 

“ How did this all happen?”, you asked in a slow whisper, looking at your surroundings for any threat. “ some bitch really just opened the door.'' Chan whispered back, hoping the profanity didn't catch Yerim’s ear. You let out a sigh, taking Yerim with your other hand, “ So where now?”, you asked. 

A groan was heard behind Chan’s back and he turned swiftly to hit it on the head before turning to you again, “ Just the safe house we talked about before.”, he said and you remembered the one time he mentioned about a safe house nearby.

Before you could respond, more zombies pushed through the broken window. The room was filling quickly, the café turning into a death-trap. 

Wait, where was Soonyoung? Your eyes traced the place in one brisk moment, finding him at a corner. “ Soonyoung!”, you shouted.

His eyes looked with yours briefly. Soonyoung swung his mop, his moments still powerful and determined but there were too many. He shouted, "Go, get to the safe house! I'll hold them off!"

"No!" you screamed, your heart pounding in your chest. You swung the wooden leg, smashing a zombie's skull. Yerim whimpered behind you and Chan closed her eyes with his hand. The lady stayed put behind all of you.

Soonyoung looked at you with desperate eyes. "Just go! I'll find you!"

But as he spoke, a group of zombies managed to break through, separating you from him. You could barely see him through the chaos, his figure disappearing into the swarm of them.

“No, Soonyoung!” you cried out, your voice breaking with fear and worry. But Chan grabbed your arm, his grip firm and unyielding.

“We have to go, now!” Chan yelled, pulling you back.

You resisted, your eyes locked on the spot where Soonyoung had been. “I can’t leave him! We have to help him!”

Chan shook his head, his eyes filled with sorrow. “We can’t do anything for him right now. He’d want you to be safe. We need to get to the safe house.”

Tears blurred your vision, but you knew Chan was right. Reluctantly, you turned away, clutching Yerim’s hand as Chan led you through the chaos. The lady followed you behind. You saw a few other people making their way out, probably to the safe house as well. The café owner was one of them, even his weak self trying to thrash the zombies.

The fight to the exit was brutal. Zombies lunged from every direction, and you fought with everything you had, your muscles burning with exhaustion. Chan was beside you all along, fighting with his all might.

A zombie grabbed your arm, its fleshy fingers wrapped around your bicep. You, in a haste moment, removed its hands from you forcefully, pushing it down. You used the wooden leg in your hand to hit it furiously again and again, even when it fell down and looked like it wouldn’t move. The flesh of it burst and blood oozed out like honey. A screech stopped your moments and you panted heavily from the action.

The three of you finally burst through the door into the street. The fresh air hit you like a shock, but there was no time to savour it. Chan didn’t stop, didn’t let you pause. He pulled you forward, his pace relentless as he led you towards the safe house along with Yerim and the lady.

As you ran, you couldn’t stop glancing back, hoping against hope to see Soonyoung behind you. But all you saw were more zombies.

You didn't really know when you had reached the safe house. All the run, your mind was filled with him.

Soonyoung.

You didn't know if he was even alive and it ate you inside out. You regretted every single thing. You should've never left. You should've stayed even if it cost you your life. 

Chan’s stretched out hand made you snap back into the present. He was holding out a handkerchief and that's when you noticed your damp cheeks. 

You accepted it but didn't take it to your face to wipe the tears away. You looked at him.

His face was bruised, little wounds all over. His eyes still remained soft as they settled on you and he ignored the blood trickling near his lips. You looked behind him and at a distance Yerim was with the lady, safely seated on the ground.

�� From what I’ve seen of him, I think he would be safe.”. He said, a sad smile forming on his lips. 

You sniffed more, trying to let some words out of your mouth, “ You don’t understand, Chan. I don't know- I don't know what to do.”,  It was hard to express it in words. You never felt like this before. It was a strange kind of emptiness. It was so profound, consuming you like a void. You could feel it by his absence beside you, not knowing where the hell he ended up. 

Chan stared at you in silence and placed a reassuring hand on your arm. You didn't pay much attention to it, your mind still replaying the scene in the café, the last time you have seen him. 

The night seemed to pass and you just laid on the blanket on the ground, prepared by the guards there for everyone to sleep. 

If you closed your eyes, it took you back to the incidents in the café, Soonyoung disappearing into the crowd of zombies. Slowly the sorrow turned into something else as a question arose in your mind.

Why did he make you his responsibility? 

He would’ve had it easier if he just minded his business, left you when he got the bag of food and searched for a safe house himself.

But he didn't. 

And it infuriated you. 

It infuriated you that he cared for you, took you with him wherever he went even though he knew it would be way harder to survive while having to keep you safe. It infuriated you that he hadn’t been selfish, that he didn’t even take a second to think about himself, that he put you first. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying your best to erase the overwhelming emotions bubbling inside you.

The morning arrived later than you thought, the sun’s morning rays prickling your already strained eyes. You shut your eyes and turn the other way around to avoid them. 

You got up after some time, lazily eating a banana on Chan's insistence. You spent your day sitting near the window to see if Soonyoung would arrive. With the evening arriving, your hopes were crushed and you moved from your place to see Chan playing with Yerim. 

Chan smiled up at you and a grin formed on Yerim’s dusty face as well. The sight finally brought a small smile on your face and Chan’s smile widened.

You sat next to Yerim, allowing Chan to stretch his body for a while. 

In a span of 5 minutes, Chan came back running. “ He is here! He is here!.”, he said, standing in front of you. You knitted your eyebrows together in confusion. 

Chan took a few seconds to even his breathing. “ Soonyoung, he is outside.”, he said. You didn't wait further, getting up to reach near the window and see him outside. He was injured, definitely with his slightly limping leg and bruises that littered on his neck and shoulder, traces of blood on his face and hands. Despite his state, your shoulders relaxed at the fact he was still alive and you took a satisfied breath after a long time.

You turned to the guard, waiting for him to open the door. Your face fell when he didn't.

“ Umm… there is a survivor outside.”, you said, pointing towards the door. 

The guard looked at the café owner who had a scowl on his face. “We clearly saw him go into those zombies, he could’ve been bitten.”

Your face grew hot in anger. “ He is not.”, you said.

“ How do you know that?", The man questioned back but you had no answer. You just knew he wasn't bitten but it was a gut-feeling with no proper proof to back it up. 

“ We can’t risk these many people’s lives just so you could be with your boyfriend," he continued.

You glanced at the people around, leaving a deep sigh. You knew he was right- you can’t be selfish about this. But the thought of leaving him out alone was horrifying.

You glanced back at the window to see him outside as he looked around cluelessly. 

You closed your eyes to think for a moment, weighing out all the possibilities and their consequences. You finally made a decision that made sense to your heart.

“ Then let me go out instead.”, you said, your voice calmer than before. You heard a few gasps and you were sure the loudest one was from Chan.

“ If you go out, there is no way back in.”, The guard said, his hand tight around the door handle. 

Chan shook his head, taking a step forward. “ Are you insane? You can not go out! He could’ve been-”, he stopped seeing your glare. 

“ He is not bitten.”, you said calmly, walking towards the door, “ I know he is not.”

Yerim stood in your way with her pouty lips and all you could do was pat her head and move past her.

Chan let out a frustrated sigh, his lips twitching, “ And what if you are wrong?”. You pause your moments, “ And what if he is not? He would be all alone.”, you breath out, “ If he is bitten,”, you said slowly,” Let it be, this is the least I could do for what he had done for me.”, you said before standing in front of the door. 

The guard waited a minute to see if you would change your mind. When you didn't speak a word, he pushed open the door. The last thing you saw was Chan's and Yerim’s sad eyes  before you stepped outside. Soonyoung's eyes fixed on you as you came out of the warehouse.

There he is, in all his glory, smiling up to you as if he didn’t have you worried to death for the past 24 hours. 

You ran to him and engulfed him in a hug, squeezing the soul out of him. He hugged you back with the same energy, lifting you off the ground slightly. You moved your head back to see his face that still had a smile etched up on. 

He moved one of his hands to your cheek, caressing it gently, looking at you with those brown eyes.

Then He kissed you. It was sudden but it was not a surprise. You kissed him back gently, arms still holding on to him, afraid that if you let go, you would lose each other once again. 

He pulled back slightly and then began peppering little kisses on your lips. One, then another, then another, his lips light and soft against yours. When he deemed it was enough, he put you down on the ground again and noticed your moist eyes.

Without your own knowledge, tears flow down your cheeks, making them damp.  His face softens as he sees you. Your face was more worn out than he remembered a day ago.

Your cries become muffled when you bury your face in his chest. 

“ I thought..”, you try to begin but you fail as you cry more into his chest. “ I am here now, right? I am safe.”, he tried to reassure you.

And it was true. He was safe and that was enough.

Just then you realised, he cared for you simply because he chose to. It wasn’t a duty or an obligation but an action that came from his heart. 

And you cared for him too. You cared for him enough to be with him, even in death. If not, you wouldn’t have been here.

After staying like that for a moment, he spoke, still holding you close to his chest, “ Let us go inside? It’s not safe to stay outside.”

You pulled away, biting your lip. You gulped slightly, “ About that, uhm, They wouldn’t let you come inside.”

His eyebrows knitted together in confusion. “ Why?”

“ They are afraid- that you could’ve been bitten," you said slowly.

He frowned, looking at the warehouse at a distance to notice that the doors were actually closed. He looked back at you.“ Then why did you come?”, he asked.

“ Because I want to be with you.”, you answered too quickly.

“ No, just go inside," He said hastily and shook his head, trying to be calm. His hands moved away from their previous position on your waist.

 “ It’s too late. They won’t let me back in either, and even if they did, I wouldn’t go. I’m staying with you.” , you said, trying to get closer to him again but this time he took a step back.  

“ Are you out of your mind, ____? Why would you put yourself at risk for me? ”His voice raised slightly but you didn’t budge. You scoff, your concern long gone and replaced with anger.

“Don’t act like you haven’t taken risks for me,” you shot back. “I thought we were in this together.”

“That is different!” His voice grew more urgent, his words coming faster. “Trust me, I want to be with you too, but there is no other safe house anywhere nearby!” He gestured helplessly to his wounded body. “And—look at me.” His voice cracked as he continued, “It won’t matter if I survive.”

“It matters to me.”, you said with a low voice. “ If you think I would leave you alone, you have known nothing about me.”

“ You are just being reckless.”, he tries to counter. “I’m just being honest,” you replied, your words coming quickly as you moved closer to him. You gently placed your palm on his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment as he subconsciously leaned into your touch, his breath catching in his throat.

He sighed, opening his eyes and looking at you with a mixture of frustration and tenderness. “Alright,” he said finally. “ Let us go before we come across zombies, I am tired of fighting them.”

As you both moved away from the closed warehouse, you searched for a place to rest and regroup. The sun was getting hotter and Soonyoung was getting more tired. After walking a short distance, you spotted a small, abandoned tent partially hidden behind a cluster of trees.

You helped Soonyoung inside. Once inside, you both settled onto the ground. As you wrapped a blanket around both of you to keep warm, you heard the distant thrum of a helicopter. Your heart skipped a beat. The sound grew louder, a shimmer of hope bubbled in your chest.

Quickly, you grabbed a blanket from the tent’s corner and, with Soonyoung’s help, you unfurled it outside, using it to signal the helicopter. You waved it back and forth.

Soonyoung’s eyes were locked on the approaching helicopter, his face a mixture of hope and anxiety. You both continued to wave the blanket, your arms growing tired but your spirits lifting with each passing moment.

The helicopter circled above, its searchlight scanning the area. Finally, it began to descend slowly, landing nearby. You both signed in relief and Soonyoung threw his head back in happiness. You were finally truly safe.

His hair flew with the harsh air coming from the helicopter.

You used to read poetry in highschool. Often, these poets compare their partners to a flame. You never understood that. How could a person be like a flame? How could a person ever be a flame? When you saw Soonyoung then, you got it for the first time. Soonyoung was like a flame. He burned like one and made you yearn for him. 

You recognized the feeling in your chest, the way your heart thumped against your rib cage every time his eyes met yours. This was more than physical attraction or the affection you thought you developed over time. This was love.

And It felt right. Everything felt right with him.

“ I think I love you.”, you said without thinking, it was more of a confession to yourself. “I love you.”, you corrected your words. You didn’t have any doubts anymore, you didn't think anymore. you love him and that's all you could think for then.

He widened his eyes, his gaze flickering from the helicopter to you. It would be near you in a minute when he tightened the grip on your hand. He didn’t speak and that was fine for you. You didn't say you love him expecting him to say it back.

The helicopter reached near you. He climbed in first, stretching out his hand to help you get in as well. You grasped his hand and get it in. You both sat next to each other. 

“ Are there any other survivors?”, one of the soldiers asked and Soonyoung shook his head, “Not any I know of nearby.”

The soldier mumbles something to the pilot and the helicopter slowly moves back up to the high altitude. You looked over at Soonyoung to see him deep in thought. You wonder what he was thinking about and you hoped it was about you, your confession.

The sound of the blades made your ears numb, even in the heavy noise, you heard the words that escape his mouth.

“ I love you too, ___.”

for anyone who came this far, thank you for reading!

[kobrafangs]

ok what if there was a zombie apocalypse au where newt is a crank but his brain is still intact due to a mutation,, like his body still (albeit at a slower pace) deteriorates like a crank, but he’s still mentally newt. thomas isn’t immune like him, and together they navigate through dilapidated cities teeming with cranks, scraping by with nothing but each other’s company.

[artbyblastweave]

So I blew through Ultimate Marvel Team-Up in order to get context for when Daredevil starts sticking his horns back into the main Ultimate Spider-Man book, and what's really interesting to me is that Bendis's rendition of basically every non-Spider-Man cape who shows up in that gesture at what could have been an extremely cohesive Ultimate Marvel setting;

Hulk is very visibly classic Hulk in every respect, but with the added implication that he's currently neck-deep in a thriller-conspiracy uncover-the-truth kind of plot regarding the government experimentation with super-soldiers that's upstream of all of superhumanity in the Ultimate Universe. This idea was later binned, Banner was framed as neck-deep in spook shit and unlikely to try and defect from it in the way he was implied to be trying to do.

Iron Man's origin is changed so that he got abducted by rebels while attempting to sell weapons technology to a right-wing U.S-backed junta in Guatemala during the Reagan Admin, and moreover in direct retaliation for attempting to do that; this is upstream of his decision to stop selling weapons technology, and the two-shot where he teams up with Spider-Man involves Latveria attempting to steal the Iron Man Armor- with Tacit SHIELD Backing, because Nick Fury is willing to let Dr. Doom have that tech if it increases the chances of the U.S. Government eventually getting a crack at it. This extremely interesting cold war dynamic between stark and Fury also mostly got binned.

The Fantastic Four are nearly identical in function to their 616 counterparts, except that instead of a spaceflight they got their powers on a years-long expedition to the Negative Zone, having Challengers-of-the-Unknown style adventures, which both neatly resolves the datedness of the spaceflight origin and allows them to have their veteran hero status simultaneously with the idea that the heroic age is just starting out. The Negative zone was also mentioned to be the home dimension of the Skrulls, Kree, and possibly Galactus, neatly explaining why so many spaceborne threats keep making themselves earth's problem so specifically. Ultimate Fantastic Four was just good enough (And Bendis's two shot otherwise boring enough) that I can forgive the parts of this that they binned. I mean we got Marvel Zombies out of it, that's worth everything in the world

Ultimate Dr. Strange is interesting in that he's the son of the original Dr. Strange, whose origin, career and supporting cast are actually largely exactly the same but also linked to the IRL time period of Strange's debut, the early 60s through the early 80s. Stephen Strange Jr. is the inheritor of a legacy his disillusioned Mother Clea spent twenty one years trying to keep him well away from, rapidly attempting to learn the ropes under the apprenticeship of a long-suffering Wong and largely coming across as a scientologist-adjacent crank in the media. This is actually a really fun way to put Strange at the Metaphorical kids table with the rest of the aged-down heroes while also keeping him from breaking every story, and although Bendis did get to keep using him in this capacity it ultimately didn't amount to much because he got turbofucked during Ultimatum after only a couple of appearances.

Shang Chi is introduced in the middle of a Kung-Fu walking-the-earth situation, with Spider-Man haphazardly (and unsuccessfully) seeking him out for martial arts lessons when he realizes he's just leaning on his powers as a crutch in most fights. He offers him like 20 dollars

The broad outline of a lot of these ideas, and the political themes they were gesturing towards, survived their later delegation to other authors to some extent, but were corroded by Millar's cinematic bombast on The Ultimates in particular. I mourn the version of the Ultimate Universe where they just gave Bendis enough amphetamines to have him do all of it. At any rate you bet your ass that if I ever commit to trying to do some kind of fanmade unified Marvel Timeline I'd poach all of these

[bamboozledbird]

HOWLING: TST Rewrite // Prev. / Chapter 3 / Next.

Characters: Thomas, fem!reader, Newt, Aris, Teresa (bg), Minho (bg), Frypan (bg), Winston (bg) Pairing(s): Thomas x Reader (the slowest of burns as is my brand) Word Count: 4.2k Tags: Mix of book and movie canon, newt!sister!reader Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore, heavy gore and violence this chapter, sad times are ahead my friends

A/N: What is a writing schedule. I certainly don't have one anymore. Right now the inspo is only pulling me here bc she is a fickle, fickle mistress. Also, if you've only seen the movies, you might be a bit confused. Cranks are different in the books; they don't look like zombies exactly. The longer they remain a crank, the more injuries they get from fighting each other or hurting themselves bc they're, y'know, tragically insane. They can usually talk too, but they sound real messed up and, again, insane. From here on out, the lore will probably blend between movie and book based on what I remember the best lmao. Taglist: @m30wk1ttycat @mxltifxnd0m

You’ve heard about cranks. You know all the technical terms and definitions. WCKD told you about all of the stages, described the slow descent into madness during their lengthy justification of your two years in hell. They said the worst part is just before the end, when you know you’re about to turn, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. That’s when they leave, they said. That’s when they banish themselves to the hidden societies of the damned—the violent, savage world of the Gone. 

None of it prepared you for witnessing it first-hand.

Thomas turns towards you, and his smile immediately twists into panic—though, panic isn’t quite right. You’ve seen Thomas panicked before, often, in fact. It seems to be a constant with him; there’s always a little bit of unease crawling under his skin. 

This is something else. 

Thomas is in front of you, breathing heavily against your skin, before you can think of a better word. He grabs your arm and yanks you into his chest so quickly your shoulder clicks under the strain.

 A loud shriek answers all of the questions furrowing your brow. 

A girl—an almost girl, throws herself against the chain link fence you were just leaning on. She snarls around the wire, teeth gnashing together without any regard for her tongue. Foam gathers at the corners of her mouth and dribbles down her chin. She’s more animal than human. 

You know the terminology, Past the Gone; it doesn’t make this any easier. It doesn’t make this easier at all. 

The first thing you notice is how small she is. There are more pressing things that require your attention—like the deep gashes carved into her skin and the large scars spread across her cheeks to her browbones. And her eye sockets. Fuck, her eye sockets are hollow and obscured with pink knitted tissue—and that’s when you realize exactly what the scars are from. She clawed her own eyes out. 

Such horrific, grisly details, and all you think about is how small she is. You finally realize what she’s screaming. Help me. She’s screaming, ‘Help me.’

“Come on,” Thomas tugs on your arm again and pulls you further away from the screaming, “we gotta move. We gotta move now.”

A crank rushes from the shadows. A man this time, missing his nose, and you shudder through your shoulders when you notice the bite marks around the exposed nasal cavity. 

Thomas drags you forward by your hand, forcing you to keep up with his sprint. His feet are nimble as they are quick; he snakes away from the cranks emerging from the darkness without missing a step. Your rhythm is a little less fluid, but every time you trip over a sudden pivot or scattered plywood, Thomas’s grip on your wrist hauls you back onto your feet. It hurts a little. Thomas’s blunt nails dig into the thin skin on the inside of your wrist, and his fingers squeeze the delicate bones hard enough to bruise—and you’ve never been more grateful for anything in your life. 

You can hear the thrum of your blood rushing in your ears, your feet slamming against the concrete, and the muddy sound of someone shouting through the fog of adrenaline. Nothing else seems real. 

Thomas has to scream directly in your face to cut through the haze. “Hold ‘em shut.” 

The world refocuses with harrowing clarity. 

There’s chilling laughter on the other side of the door, and Thomas clutches at your shoulder with his free hand. He nods towards the thin sheets of metal and glass separating you from savage teeth and feral eyes. “Hold ‘em shut.” You don’t have the mental capacity to question him. 

It takes your full weight to keep the horde of cranks from breaking through the doors, and you know you can’t manage it for long. Your heels start to slip against the floor, and you can just barely hear Thomas over the sound of your boots squealing and cranks asking for, ‘just a little taste.’

Thomas yells, barks really, “Get out of the way,” from the corner, and you do. 

You trust him in this primal state. You can’t decide if that means more than how you feel about him when you’re in your right mind—and then a large filing cabinet crashes to the floor and wakes you from your temporary stupor.

Thomas takes your hand again and rushes forward. He can’t decide, it seems, whether he should keep you behind him or in front of him, but it doesn’t matter when a double escalator, broken-down and cluttered with debris from the ceiling, separates you. Your feet remember what to do now that you’re on your own. 

You turn a corner, and a sudden burst of air whooshes through your lungs when you see that the rest of the group is okay. Newt cups a hand over his eyes and squints. You can see the exact moment he finally hears what Thomas is shouting, and then again when he sees the creatures nipping at your heels. 

Newt’s eyes somehow grow wider, and you think, for a moment, that they might just engulf his entire face. “Oh shit.” 

Newt, fool-heartedly, doesn’t start running until you reach him. You grab his hand and wish you had the breath and time to shake the stupid right out of him. 

“What in the ever-loving hell are those things?” Newt shouts, close to your ear. 

You wrench him forward with a harsh tug when he tries to look over his shoulder again. “Oh you know,” you wheeze slightly as you snag a broken piece of rebar from the ground, “just Thomas and his groupies.”

“Well tell’em to take a bite outta him, then.”

You feel a little pinch of guilt in your gut as Newt’s struggles with his bad leg—but you don’t let up your pace. You jerk him forward every time his joints get stuck or he trips over his uneven footing. Better he have an aching leg than no leg at all. 

“What about the ones without ears?” You manage a flash of a smile, more of a spasm really, and Newt exhales a sharp breath of air that feels like a laugh. 

He yelps when you pull him away from a pair of cranks on your right, swallowing the snark poised on his sharp tongue. Two more cranks swarm from the left, and Newt tries to push you in front of him, but you beat him to it. You shove him up the next set of escalators and stay a step behind him, ready to push him—hell, ready to carry him up the flight of stairs if need be. You’d figure it out; adrenaline can make a person do crazy things, after all.

A crank manages to get ahold of your jacket, and Newt falters. “Go,” you shove Newt with one hand and rip your other through your jacket sleeve. You can’t even feel the ache in your broken thumb, not with the panic sparking through every single one of your synapses. “Get out of here.” 

The crank still has a hold of your empty sleeve, and it seems like she isn’t planning on letting go anytime soon. You swing the rebar into her arm and twist out of the other sleeve, sending your denim jacket and the crank spiraling down a long descent to the floor.

Newt is waiting at the top of the stairs, and you give him the fiercest glower you can manage while struggling for air. “I told you to go,” you snap. 

Newt takes your hand this time and rolls his eyes—impressively flippant given your current situation. “Yeah, well you aren’t the boss of me, are ya? I’ve already got one friend with a god complex; don’t need two.”

Your lungs are burning, and your head is throbbing, and you’re too tired to launch into a tirade about just exactly how stupid he is. “Should be,” you hiss through your gasps. “You make terrible decisions.”

“I’m older.” You’re sure if Newt could breathe without coughing, he would be sticking his tongue out at you. 

“Senile, you mean,” you reply, smugly and with emphasis. You can see the door ahead. It’s so close; you think you might just make it. 

Glass shatters behind you, and you’re filled with an all-encompassing sense of dread when Newt doesn’t snark back. 

Your head whips around just in time to see a crank crash into Newt. 

Newt falls. It happens instantly and endlessly—and you run straight towards the crank on top of him before you even realize you need to. It’s instinct. Something deeper inside your mind than a thought. Something written in your bone marrow, coded in your DNA. 

Something WCKD can’t erase. 

You smash the bar against his—it, you think with an edge of desperation—its skull. The sound of the cranks' bones shattering makes your stomach turn and your eyes water. You have just enough time to kick it off of Newt and pull him to his feet. 

You don’t let go of his hand this time. You keep your sweaty palms, grimy with dust and dirt, pressed together until you see moonlight. 

When you finally stop moving, your legs give out on you. You fall to the ground and lean back against a frigid wall. For a long time, all you can hear is soft panting; it’s almost comforting—a reminder that you aren’t alone. You’re surrounded by humanity, maybe even friends in another life. You allow yourself to burn your fingertips on the thought as your eyelids droop towards your cheekbones.

The shelter Thomas found isn’t very hospitable; the walls are precariously balanced slabs of broken concrete, and the only seats to be found are jagged pieces of rubble and rusted steel barrels. Perhaps, that’s why the cranks give up their search, or maybe it’s closer to dawn than you think. Frankly, you’re fine with either option. Your legs have jellified, and the others don’t look much better. 

After a long, arduous hour, Thomas shifts and deems it safe enough to talk. He keeps his voice low. You can’t hear what he’s saying to Teresa and his other friend—Min…something, you try to recall, definitely something with an ‘M’—but you’re pretty sure it’s about Winston. You do know Winston’s name. It’s the least you can do after he was nearly shredded in two while giving you enough time to escape. 

Winston’s quiet groaning masks the rest of their conversation. Selfishly, you’re more concerned about Newt anyway, and the feeling is far too familiar for comfort. 

You nudge at Newt’s ankle with an admittedly pathetic kick. “Prop your leg on that,” you nod towards a chunk of concrete in front of him. 

Newt’s head lulls towards you, heavily, like it's going to snap off of his slender neck and roll to the ground. “Already told ya’, you're not the boss’f me,” he mumbles, words slurring together with his melting eyelids.

You roll your eyes and huff, “It’ll help with the swelling.” You kick at his leg again, and you keep nudging him until he complies with a sigh so heavy it makes you roll your eyes once more. 

He lifts his leg with shaky arms and drops it on top of the rubble without ceremony. “Happy?”

You stick your tongue out at him, just because you can, and give him a vexing smirk. “Exceedingly.”

Newt mutters something under his breath that you don’t bother to acknowledge. He’s a blink away from sleep anyway. 

You close your eyes, but you can’t fall asleep. You can’t tell if it’s lingering adrenaline or simply because you’re a bad sleeper, even when you aren’t sleeping on concrete. It’s the dreams. They come for you most nights, and they’re never sweet. They’re caked with blood and laden with grief. 

You sit up and pull your knees to your chest. Your cracked lips curve into a fond smile when you see Newt clutch your backpack close to his chest, like a child with their favorite blanket. Or their teddy bear. You swallow and scrub at your eyes. That girl in the cage, what was left of her anyway—she couldn’t have been more than six.  

The back of your neck prickles with the warmth of someone’s, or something’s, attention. You slant your head towards the sensation and meet Thomas’s gaze. His eyes are dark in the starless sky, almost black, but they still shine with concern. Worry. He’s always worried, you’ve noticed. Always on edge, waiting for something to lurch out of the shadows, waiting for something else to be taken from him. 

Thomas tilts his head a little and then nods towards a pile of sand a little ways away from the concrete cave. 

Dawn is just beginning to settle over the desert, and the sand looks golden in the light of the rising sun. A little sigh of relief slips through your lips—Cranks don’t like the sun. Honestly, at the peak of day, you can’t blame ‘em. 

Thomas slips out of his corner and holds his hand out towards you. You look at it for a second, chew on your bottom lip, and then take it. He lets go after he pulls you to your feet, and your skin immediately misses the warmth. 

You’ve come to find that the Scorch is a cruel, cruel mistress. It varies between freezing and blistering, and you can’t help but find it incredibly unfair. Silly compared to everything else, maybe, but it irks you all the same. 

You watch the beginnings of daybreak with Thomas by your side. After you let out a soft exhale, Thomas tips his chin down to look at you. 

“You okay?” he says quietly. You aren’t sure if the quiet is for you, or the sleeping Gladers, or the stillness of early morning—but it’s nice all the same.

“Uh huh,” you yawn it more than you say it. 

“Your hand?” Thomas presses, crooking his head down to examine your bruised thumb in the faint light. 

“S’okay,” you shrug and shudder. You can’t really tell if it’s the residual chill of night or the ache in your thumb. In the end, Thomas decides for you. He shrugs off his jacket and wraps it around your shoulders. 

Thomas is left in a gray t-shirt that looks as thin as your tank top. You frown at his bare arms and tilt your head up at him, “Now you’ll be cold.”

He shrugs, a little sheepish. It makes you smile. “I run warm.”

You rest your fingertips against his forearm and shiver as his chilled skin leeches the warmth from your fingers. “Liar,” you hum, but a tiny smile wiggles across your lips. 

Thomas bites his lip, “I’ll be fine once I’m in my sleeping bag.” 

Your lips purse, and your eyes narrow, “You gonna go put on your sleep bag, then?”

He gives you a little grin, “Maybe. I think I could pull it off.”

You think that he could, indeed, pull it off. Truly, Thomas could pull anything off, and you think it’s also incredibly unfair that a person can be so infuriating and so pretty all at the same time. 

You dig the toe of your boot into the sand and wrap Thomas’s jacket tighter around your torso. “If I asked you a question, would you tell me the truth?” He frowns, and you suppose that’s fair. It’s a loaded question, especially compared to the weather. 

Thomas turns towards you and catches your illusive gaze, “Yes.” 

You trap your lip between your teeth and look up at him with big, blinking eyes. It’s not the answer you expected, and you think that he might be the only person in the world who’d give it. 

“Do you think we’re gonna make it?” you ask quietly. You glance out at the imposing horizon, a wasteland of nothing but sand and the sparse remnants of a world that’s almost extinct. You look back at Thomas, searching his face with bloodshot eyes. “Do you really think we’ll ever stop being afraid? That someday we’ll be…” your nose scrunches as you scour your mind for the right word. When you find it, you wonder if it was part of the girl WCKD wiped away, if that’s why it took you so long to unearth. “Free,” you finish quietly, “do you really believe that someday we’ll be free?”

Thomas doesn’t answer for a long time, and then he flickers his gaze to your face. His eyes are so big, lined with dark lashes that kiss his freckles. Like a fawn, you muse, he has the eyes of a fawn. Right now, they’re resolved. “I have to,” he finally answers, quiet again, another thing for you to keep.

The corner of your mouth tugs into a soft smile, sad too, “That’s not really an answer.”

Thomas shrugs slightly, and his mouth falls into a hard line. “It has to be.”

You chew on your cheek and his answer. He did what you asked, you suppose. You asked for honesty, not logic. Dropping to the sand, you trace little swirls in the grains with deft fingers and hum, “Can I ask you another question?”

He nods and sits down next to you. 

“How do you…” you shake your head a little and struggle for meaning, “do it.” 

Thomas’s brow pinches, “It?”

You run your tongue over your teeth, scraping away the grit of sand stuck between your molars, and shrug. It takes you a moment to come up with a question he can actually answer. “Care,” you look at him through your lashes and rest your cheek against your knee. Your jeans scratch your skin, but it’s a distant feeling against the warmth radiating from the sand below. “How do you care so much and still have something left?” You can’t think of the right word for ‘something’, but Thomas seems to understand this time. Good. You certainly don’t. 

“I don’t know. I just…have to.” Thomas winces a little at his repetition, but when he glances at you, he has a slight smile on his face. “Why are you asking me? You do it just fine.”

You aren’t sure why it offends you so, but it does. “I do not.” 

You kick a little pile of sand and watch it burst in the air. You imagine for a moment that the grains are stars, or fireworks, or something other than a product of a world destroyed. You realize eventually that Thomas went quiet again. 

He’s looking at you when you glance over your shoulder. His face is creased with whatever thought is sharpening his eyes. They’re more gold than brown in direct sunlight, and right now it feels like they’re molten, like he’s burning through your skin, your bones, your air. You can feel him seeing you, and you have to look into the face of the sun to make it stop. 

“I saw you,” Thomas says quietly.

Your eyes water from the glaring light. You divert your gaze towards your shoes and snort, “Not this again.”

Thomas grins a little, but it turns into something much softer when says, “I saw you in there, with the bear, and then with Newt…in-between all the screaming and running for our lives obviously,” his cheek twitches with a wry smile, “I still saw what you did for him. It was the only reason I felt like I could get us out of there, knowing you had his back.”

“Lead, you mean,” you tease with a wicked grin, “you led us out because you’re the leader. Grand Marshal Thomas—daintiest feet in all the land.” It’s a clear deflection, one Thomas doesn’t take. 

“And then after, with his leg,” Thomas makes you look at him with his unwavering focus, “you care. You care a lot.” 

You pause, suddenly feeling far less playful. You stand up and brush the sand off of your jeans, turning away from the sun and the light in Thomas’s earnest expression. “Yeah, well, I don’t care about saving the world. I just want to save him.”

Thomas is by your side again, and you can’t understand why. He stops you with a hand on your shoulder; his eyes are alarmingly piercing. “I don’t even know if the world can be saved—but I am going to save us. All of us. I promise.”

Your mouth parts, and all you can do is stare at him, eyes wide, heart thudding. The others start to stir, sparing you from coming up with a coherent response to...that. You walk away from Thomas and his disarming sincerity before you start to evaporate with the burning sun. 

You offer Newt a hand when you find him, and then immediately withdraw it when a smirk slides across his face. 

Newt props himself up on his elbows and blows his flop of feathery hair out of his eyes, “Are you going to make a habit of wandering off with Tommy? I already have a hard enough time keeping track of him.”

You rolls your eyes and nudge his shoulder with your knee, “Thought we already established that I’m the bos—”

A low, agonized groan cuts through the quiet chatter. 

The makeshift bandages wrapped around Winston’s torso are soaked through with blood. The worst of the pooling is almost black, and crimson seeps out from the center of his wound to the hem of his shirt. He struggles to sit up, and one of his friends is quick to lend a hand. 

You’ve seen enough people die from blood loss to know the odds. 

You swallow the thought and take Newt’s hand for balance as you climb down a steep pile of concrete and rebar. Everyone looks at Winston when they take a moment to breathe. It’s not discreet, but it can’t be helped. It seems like everyone knows what’s to come when they see how far away the mountains are. It’s going to take days to get there, maybe longer, and Winston doesn’t have days. He might not even have hours. It’s unspoken, and it looms overhead like the searing heat of the sun.  

When Winston tumbles down the sand dune, you can see it in their eyes. They know.

It’s a desperate, crawling feeling, knowing and not being able to do anything about it. You’ve felt it before, and when you look at the misery in their faces, you feel it again. You don’t know what to say. Don’t know what to do. Don’t know how to help when they’re about to lose another friend.

No one says much in the end. The boys load Winston onto a dodgy stretcher crafted from what little you could find in a desolate sea of sand and ruins. Frypan and Minho struggle through the sand with the added weight of their friend, but you wonder if it’s helping, being able to help in some small way. You wonder if anything can. 

Aris ends up by your side, and you let him take your hand. You still aren’t sure how old he is—neither is he, to be fair—but he’s always felt…small. Strange, considering he towers over most of the group B girls, but he does. He’s scrawny, and awkward, and shy—and yet another person you can’t do anything for. 

“You know them,” Aris says quietly, simply.

You glance over your shoulder at Newt. His face is grim as he mutters something to Teresa. “Not really.”

Aris tilts his head, ducking his eyes away from the glare reflecting off the dunes in the distance. “You did once.”

“Was that even me?” You’d let out an exasperated sigh, but opening your mouth for that long seems like a bad idea with the wind picking up behind you.

His bony shoulder lifts with a tiny shrug, “You can know them now.”

Biting down on your cheek, you shake your head and look over your shoulder briefly. The sun reflects off of the thick lines of slow, silent tears slipping down Frypan’s face, and Minho looks like he’s about to bite off his own tongue with the effort to hold back his own. 

“What’s the point?” you say it so quietly you think you might have imagined it, that maybe this is all a horrible dream, and you’ll wake up frozen to the Maze walls in the morning. 

Aris squeezes your hand, and you sigh. He’s real. This is real. Another nightmare that’s bled into daylight.

“I think he can do it.” Aris nods towards Thomas’s back. “I think he’s the right one.”

“Pretty risky,” you drawl, digging your nails into your palm when you hear Winston cry out in pain, “making a pigheaded kid with a death wish into Jesus bloody Christ. Good way to crush your faith.” 

Aris looks at you, in that startlingly perceptive way he does when he’s working out a puzzle, and then smiles a little. It’s a smidge, but it’s there. 

Your brow arches, “What?”

“He sounds a lot like you.”

Your scoff is lost to the gale cutting across the desert. It whips against your cheeks, and the gusts of sand billowing in its path blind you. 

Thomas shouts something in the distance. You can’t hear him over the wind wailing in your ears, but you can guess what he's saying. There’s no choice but to take shelter until the storm passes.

You hope that tonight’s nightmares will at least be a little sweeter than what awaits you when you wake.

[hyatoro]

Hello! Firstly, i LOVE your writing! It's so nice to read and it's very enjoyable. This is also my first ask with you. Unfortunately I am not too sure whether this counts as an outline or a headcannon (from my understanding headcannons are about the character itself and outlines are more like headcannons for the scenario but im not sure??? maybe this is a outline???). No worries if you don't to of course!

Anyway, may I have an NSFW about Hwang Minso spending his heat with reader? Especially if it's just really sweet and fluffy in a way. I think he deserves the tenderness, y'know? Bonus if the affection is like a warm blast of sunshine on a dreary day. (I imagine, Alpha reader is being sweet and fluffy and just really gentle but the unwavering attention and tenderness is overwhelming for the guy and so sweet it burns in a way. I want the guy to be overwhelmed by it. I imagine he's begging for more and more even if he's overstimulated though reader would stop in a heartbeat if he needed them to)

Again, no pressure!

Headcanons are just fast fun facts with no real timeline in mind. The scenario “outlines” are basically what I’ve been doing where it’s a scenario, but I don’t put in the full effort of making it a fic even if it may seem like one. 

The definitions are loose as hell and I tend to just write what I want. The two reasons why I have the outline distinction is because I don’t need the pressure of cranking out a fully polished work and it also shows who reads my rules. Thank you by the way for asking!

The writing below probably leans more towards full blown fic but the difference is that I would’ve gone into a lot more detail for one instead of an ‘outline’.

Onto the actual content!

Hwang Minsu

The man couldn’t believe he’d gotten this far. It all started with a chance encounter where he met you. The light of his life, and the reason why he evolved from the mindless zombie he was. 

You accepted him into your life. Even after you caught him pulling your empty can out of the recycling. Even when you were initially weirded out, you gave him another chance. 

You’d even asked him out. On a date! And then you asked if he wanted to date you too! 

Honestly he questioned it a bit, scared that it was all some sort of sick joke life was playing on him. But you showed him consistency and proved yourself reliable, not that he had any doubts in you as a person. You were perfect. 

It was amazing, having schedules that were similar. The two of you took to the nights like it was your own kingdom and every night with you was memorable. 

His favorite so far was the time you two went to karaoke. You watched him with adoration, a sight he had to familiarize himself with, as he sang his heart out badly. He knew he wasn’t a great singer and it didn’t faze you one bit. You were just happy that he felt comfortable enough to do so in front of you. 

And when you pulled him into your lap, rewarding him with kisses as you chose your next song, he knew there was no turning back for him. Not when you were all that was ahead. 

Now here he was, opening the door to you. Well, a giant pile of your clothes and blankets hiding your face. But you were behind it all. 

He shuffled out of the way and let you in, catching any garments that fell to the ground behind you. His eyes widened however when you dropped everything unceremoniously to the ground. 

“Just arrange everything how you want it, baby. Let me know if you need help.”

The ugly face he made as he held back tears made you laugh affectionately, stepping towards him to cradle his face gently and kiss his forehead. His face got even more scrunched up as he placed his hands on yours, holding them there. 

Once he got over that surge of emotions he enlisted your help in making his nest, the most elaborate he’d ever made in his life. Considering what had happened when around the time he started to get more intense heats he never really had the guidance nor the chance to go all out. 

You help him arrange everything so that it’s cozy but roomy enough to fit two people. His mattress was on the floor so it made everything easier. 

As he got comfortable you left the apartment and he sat up, panicking a little wondering where you were going. But you quickly returned with a bunch of food, drinks, and other supplies for his heat. His face scrunched again as he pouted, almost telling you that you didn’t have to, but the look on your face stops him. Instead, he opens his arms and you crawl into his nest, kissing his cheeks as you two lay down together. 

He’s content to lay in your arms as you fall asleep, awaiting for the wave to come crashing. He sleeps easily so you’re more than welcome to watch TV or scroll through your phone. All he needed at that moment was your warmth and scent. 

When he wakes up he’s burning and he’s half-expecting you to not be there. For this all to have been some sort of sick dream that his heat-addled mind concocted. But you’re there. As real as ever, and he whines loudly when he buries himself into your neck, grinding on you.

You stir awake easily enough and your mind slowly catches up with the fact that your boyfriend is in heat. When you finally realize what’s happening you get up and immediately get to work. Your hand slides under his baggy t-shirt, caressing his burning skin as he whines even more. When you help him out of it you don’t leave a spot untouched, for which he is grateful for. 

Then you palm him through his pants and he cries out, already begging you for more. To hurry up and get rid of all the clothes on both of you. Ever the kind partner, you oblige.

He’s panting and spread out on the mattress, surrounded by both of your belongings. 

His scent is the strongest it’s ever been and you pounce on him, kissing him senseless as your nose welcomes the pleasant notes of passionfruit. He’s so lovely under your touch, moaning and whining for you, hips constantly bucking up for more. 

Despite how much his body naturally prepared itself you still reach for your supplies, adding more lube to his hole. His eyes practically turn into hearts when he sees you stroking your alpha cock with even more lube. 

His hole fluttered and his cock twitched as he shifted his hips closer to you in an attempt to put you inside. 

Ever merciful, you test him with a few fingers, and he mewls at the way you spread them, feeling how you stretch his pussy like that. But he’s impatient and tells you to please stop teasing him. You’re not, but you can understand where he’s coming from. You mentally note to show him what teasing really feels like another day. 

Thanks every being in existence and every moment in history for how it led to the moment where you finally shove it in. Yeah, he’s dramatic. 

Instantly clings to you. His hands grasp at your back and you’re grateful he keeps his nails short as he scratches your back to fuck him harder. 

He needs the first one hard and fast, he explains. And you listen. Your precious little omega deserves the world during his heat. 

His cries fill the small apartment as he cums quickly, spurting out white ropes in between you. And just as fast as he came he tells you to keep going. You’re still good to go so you keep it up. 

You guys spend the next few hours fucking on every surface in the apartment until you end back up on the mattress, where his legs shake and he’s got cum dripping from both his cock and pussy. When he tries to ask for more, you chuckle and shake your head, telling him that he can barely move and that it’s time for rest. 

You use what’s left of your own energy cleaning him up and changing the heavily soiled sheets to get him comfortable, urging him to sit up to eat and drink before falling back asleep. 

Despite having asked for more, he was more than content, absolutely satisfied on all fronts. His red butt and bruised hips were neat little reminders of the mess you two made.

When you finish cleaning up from that first bout of his heat you rejoin him in the nest, peppering kisses all over his face until he sighs happily into your neck again. Because you were content and calm your scent was too, and it worked wonders in relaxing his muscles as he melted into you. 

He fell back asleep, amazed that he knew you’d be there for him when he woke up again. 

[goofyahhchicken]

Blankets ~ Gideon Graves/Gordon Goose x Sick!Julie Powers fanfic

cw: sickness (flu), Gideon Graves, Julie Powers, hugs!

very fluffy fic be prepared

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Gordon dragged his feet off the couch, he felt an immense craving for some sort of fast food. His girlfriend, Julie would still usually be doing her hair at the bathroom sink at this time in the morning, so he seized the opportunity to politely ask for food.

“Julesss!!!” he whined, “can you order me a Burger King pleaseeeee???”

No response.

“Weird..” he loudly exclaimed, he didn’t expect Julie to say yes, she usually would tell him to leave her alone, (but still get it for him.) so he decided to check on her and shuffled to her bedroom.

There lied a shivering Julie wrapped up in a plentiful of blankets. Her headphones were in, but Gideon could hear whatever she was playing as she had her music on ear-damaging volume.

“Jules, what’s wrong?”

He gently tapped Julie’s shoulder, she quivered and slowly cranked her head around and took her headphones off. Her lips and nose were red, puffy and smothered with vaseline.

“What… the f*ck do you want Gordon?”

His eyes were fixed on hers, he gently stroked Julie’s cheek.

“I’m so sorry Jules, I had no idea you were sick..” he mumbled. Julie’s gaze softened, her cheeks which were already red due to the cold turned crimson.

“Can you c-call Stacey and say i’m sick..? If she yells at me tell her to give me a f*cking break! o-ok” She whispered through chattering teeth.

“Right-o!” Gordon excitedly responded, a day off with his semi(?) girlfriend felt like a miracle considering Lucas Lee had already ditched him. Things got lonely around the house, and Julie had stopped paying for Gordon’s crunchy roll subscription which only made things worse.

After Gordon said Julie would be absent from work he hung up the phone, he did not want to tell Julie that Stacey (unsurprisingly) was unhappy with her sick leave so he decided to stop the conversation before it got to that level.

“Ba-ack!” He sang.

“W-what did she say?” Julie croaked,

“That she hopes you get better soon~” Gordon was obviously lying out of his teeth, and Julie knew that; however, she thought it was kinda cute so she played along.

“I’m gonna go make some special soup for you, my mom’s remedy to any flu!” He geeked. Julie hummed in agreement back, wrapping yet another layer of blankets around her.

After many fire alarms and weird scents, Gordon came up with a tray which entailed grilled cheese, orange juice and a very obviously tinned tomato soup. Julie chuckled to herself and ate up, Gordon watched her the entire time with content.

When Julie was finished, she and her cocoon of blankets rolled over on the bed to face Gordon, who was grabbing a blanket from a drawer. He slowly snuggled up beside Julie who was thankful for the heat. They sat in silence, staring at eachother longingly.

Julie eventually looked down in disgust, “I wish you didn’t see me like this, i look like a zombie..” she groaned, Gordon was shocked by this sudden statement that it took him a while to compute it.

“I DONT THINK YOU’RE A ZOMBIE!” he exploded. Julie laughed out of shock, gobsmacked by the volume and severity of Gordon’s statement. “And even if you were a zombie, WHICH YOU ARENT! you would be the most beautiful zombie in the world.” he ranted.

“Can i have another blanket, Gordon?” Julie asked softly, as her eyes met his again.

“Of course!”

He slowly got up and reached for another blanket, then wrapped it around Julie. He pulled both ends of the blanket towards him on the bed, moving Her closer, then latched his arms onto her; after a while of Julie being warmed by the blankets and Gordon, she drifted off to sleep.

Gordon watched her eyes flutter and listened to her breathing becoming slower, he then took off her glasses and placed them beside his on the cabinet.

“Goodnight my love.”

A/N: my requests are open now, so are my rules so check them out before requesting!

[alt-wannabe]

MCSR D&D

after a long LONG time, i've finished up mime's character sheet!

Knowledge Domain Cleric 15

i was gonna wait to post this but i'm currently trapped in airport purgatory so i have time to write this all out

more below the cut!

Wisdom needed to be cranked bc cleric but I knew I wanted Intelligence to be high as well. After that it was just luck of the dice since I roll the ability scores. I didn't put tooooo much thought into how I scored the other abilities- just knew I didn't want charisma lowest bc I personally find Mime funny af.

So sorry for how huge that photo is- taking a screenshot of a non-multiclass spell list is HARD. Any spell that says "Always Prepared" came with the Knowledge Domain and honestly I think they're all spells I would've picked for Mime anyways. They emphasize organization, scouting, and acquiring intel aka Mime's spreadsheet nonsense. In terms of playability spells that a cleric needs, I picked Guidance, Resistance, Spare the Dying, Bless, Cure Wounds, Enhance Ability (also inspired by Captain Mime leading HBG through bedrock MCC), Mass Healing Word, Revivify, Spirit Guardians (fun fact my fav spell in the game), Mass Cure Wounds, and Heal. Speedrunning related spells include Detect Magic, Locate Object, Locate Creature, Divination, Find the Path, and Plane Shift. For other picks we've got Sending (just like sending chat messages in game), Banishment (generally just a good spell to have- sends something to another dimension), Flame Strike (I realized he didn't have many damage spells + his mini has fire in it), Create Undead (deadass minecraft zombies is the only connection here), and Word of Recall (fully acts like a stasis pearl/pearl hang- teleports you/allies to a previous location).

This is what he's got equipment wise. In MY mind that Hat of Disguise is a beret so that's what it's gonna be. Face paint is annoyingly not an item so I've got the Marvelous Pigments and the Disguise kit as a janky dupe for mime face paint. Wings of Flying = elytra there's not really much more I can say there. Crystal Ball and the Atlas are both spreadsheet-esque research based items which inspired their pick. The mace is partially because he needed a weapon other than the cleric's starter weapon and partially because that specific mace is closest to the super cool gothic one on his mini.

Here are some class features from the Knowledge Domain! The domain as a whole/the spells are more why I chose knowledge but the class features aren't unfitting for Mime either. Knowledge of the Ages specifically is a feature I like- Mime typically has his shit together on all fronts.

This is the first time the background I picked has taken any effect on the character sheet (and I just bought a new sourcebook so suddenly I have a lot more options lmao). This Researcher feature just screams Mime to me.

That's the finished character sheet! I'm not entirely sure who's gonna be next. The campaign is taking a TON of work and I've barely made any progress so that may take a lil more focus than character sheets. I will say I have druid K4 in the back of my mind so possibly that next? We'll see! Hope y'all liked this :)

[thezombieprostitute]

A Bouquet for Zombie💐💐

ZOMBIE!! Happy 500! You deserve it so much. Thank you for always blessing us with your kind words and encouragements, and amazing storytelling. In response to the way you’ve been gifting us all bouquets, I hope you accept this flowery gift from me to you. 💗💗

Curtis x friends to lovers x fluff x apartment

—

Yeah, an hour seemed like enough pacing for the day. If you had gone a minute more, you probably would’ve been able to start to see how much you were wearing down the floors of your old apartment in the small patch of the living room. So instead, you flopped down on the couch and pulled a pillow over your chest to contemplate.

You were biting your nail in nervousness, thinking back to the conversation that led you to this moment, full of anxious anticipation and a little worry.

“A nice drive after the week I’ve had sounds perfect. But only if you bring dinner. I’m not cooking. Too tired for that.”

Curtis laughed in response, nodding in agreement. “Deal. It’s a date. I’ll pick you up at six.”

See, a drive on a Friday night was nothing new for you and Curtis. It’s something the two of you had done informally for the years that you’d been friends, but something about that interaction felt…different. You had never called it a date before. Is what he had intended it to be when he phrased it like that?

You weren’t sure, so you didn’t know how to take it, pacing with nervousness for what he was going to say when he showed up, which turned into pacing when you realized he was over half an hour late now.

—-

Curtis was rushing through the streets on the way to your apartment. There was just something about the conversation the two of you had the other night that he couldn’t shake. He’d invited you out to a late night drive, similar to so many other weekends before, but when he confirmed, it just slipped out and he called it a date. Sure, he’d been thinking about asking you out for months now, but it only added to the confusion when you easily agreed to his unintentional request. Did you think it was an actual date?

After an unsuccessful couple of days trying to gather what it all meant from his less-than-helpful friends, he had been internally going back and forth all day. Should it be special? Should he bring you something? Is it just like all the others? You didn’t think of him that way, did you?

After that whole debate, on his way to your place, he cranked the wheel and took a detour to go to a flower shop. He might as well commit. He had to tell you how he felt sooner or later.

Curtis picked out the nicest bouquet he could find. It had a subtle elegance, not too gaudy, but filled with all your favorites. He was driving back to you when he hit a bump, though. When he pulled over, he had two flat tires. There was no way those were getting fixed by him right now. And he didn’t want to delay seeing you and telling you how he felt for another second. He was only a few blocks away from you. He could make it.

Before he knew it, he was in your building, rushing up the steps. He checked his watch. He was already so late, but hopefully you’d understand and hear him out. That’s something he loved about you: you always understood. He knocked on the door with urgency, shoulders rising and falling with his heaving breaths. Curtis could hear shuffling on the other side and the click of the latch as you opened the door for him.

“Zombie, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t sure if this was really a date. I got you flowers, they’re your favorites. I got a flat, so I think we’ll have to take your car is you still wanna go. All this to say that I really, really li-“

His babbling was cut off by your lips on his as you fell into his arms. When you pulled away, Curtis simply blinked, still awestruck with what just happened. You must’ve felt the same way. Your lips grew into a wide grin, mirroring his as he spoke in a breathy whisper.

“Yeah, that.”

Eeeee!!!!!! I love this so much!!! I've re-read it several times already because it's so perfectly adorable!!

I love that I wasn't the only one overthinking the "date" word. That he knew not to get me a gaudy bouquet. You know me so well, Essie!

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

Tillie uploaded a few previews of Book 3 on her Instagram. Most of them were on her story though so they might be gone now. I posted them on reddit (ew) if you missed them and wanna see :)

She always gives us teasers when I'm at work and can't post about them right away, but yes, I saw them!

There are 8 pages for Clementine Book Three soooo I'll share them here under the cut and give my thoughts for anyone interested.

So... Olivia's havin' a real tough time.

If you'll remember from Book Two, whether because you read it or because you read my in-depth review/analysis of it: Olivia's pregnant with a little Amos Jr.

Or, as I like to call the baby: AJ 2.0

I know the baby's not going to be named AJ... but god, wouldn't that be so funny?? Everyone else would be so mad but I'd be so happy.

Anyway, I knew this would be a big thing in this book since obviously, but also because Tillie Walden was pregnant while she was working on these books. Given how she creates her stories, and how she's talked about how giving birth completely broke her... I think it's gonna be a lot.

We see how Olivia's struggling to cope with the pain she's in to the point where she's just like "God, kill me, just kill me--" which is a big oof.

And like... the fact that we're starting the story off like this? I see that "Chapter One" there, this is the opening to the final book in the trilogy.

And honestly...?

I'm so here for this.

Maybe it's just me, maybe I'm the weirdo here... but I'm actually a little excited to read this whole thing because yes, give me the horror of a visceral natural childbirth within the zombie apocalypse.

We kind of got that with Rebecca in S2, but y'know what? Crank it up to an 11. If you're gonna go there, then go there. Book One could've given us cannibalism but didn't. Book Two could've given us frankensteined walkers, but didn't. Give me something.

I don't know if I've just embraced that yes, these Clementine comics aren't good successors to the games. Yes, the Clementine here doesn't feel like the same Clementine we knew. Yes, the clemricca romance is not great. Yes, and I don't care anymore. I do not have the energy to be angry about it.

I mean, yeah I care that this is how they're choosing to continue Clementine's story, but it's so far removed from the games that as far as I'm concerned, her story ended a long time ago. This is just a "what if" spin off, and no amount of "no, it's canon" is ever going to change that. Besides, it helps me view these comics as their own thing, as well.

Also, wait a minute... counting heads, I see Clementine, Olivia, Ricca, Fen, Saa, and Derrick... and one unknown person. With glasses.

Gasp, but that's Ricca's thing.

Like... this is a lot.

This is so much.

God, Olivia's sobbing and vomiting all over the place, she's begging them to kill her just so that the pain will go away... but it looks like they're in a safe location with a midwife, so... at least there's that.

But yeah, Olivia's gonna pop out that baby and I wonder how graphic it's going to get.. Like, it's already pretty scary to see them trying to roll her over and pin her down so that the midwife can push the baby over the pelvis on the next contraction... gaaaahhhh--

However, it's questionable if both Olivia and the baby survive given the whole "Clementine suffers a loss unlike anything she's ever faced" thing from the book's description. The obvious bet is that Olivia will die and the group will have to take care of the baby, but who knows?

Speaking of, I'll also share these from the article that posted the pages:

I don't know what else to say about these pages; we're in a new location with new characters, Olivia's having a baby and it's brutal... I'm interested to learn more about The Gardener and what the supposedly safe place is, but we won't know until July.

And yes, I've already preordered my copy because of course I have. When it does come out, you can expect another in-depth review/analysis of it in the "I read it so you didn't have to" style... AND I plan of doing a separate essay that's an analysis of the trilogy as a whole, explores the clemricca romance, dives into Tillie Walden's other works and what they can help us to understand the trilogy better, etc.

This is also another reminder to not be a prick. Leave Tillie alone. If you want to be mad about the comics, that's fine, but leave her out of it. Post about it on your blog, or go be butthurt on reddit.

But yeah, what do y'all think? Let me know!

[kobrafangs]

fight or flight

"The Flare is a morbid disease, blighting the victim’s brain and body with an inky rot that eventually swallows them whole. During his restless nights, he pictures himself as a sickly crank: zombie-like, inhuman, soul and humanity ripped away from his decaying yet live corpse.

But, to Newt’s horror, that’s not even the worst part of his situation.

It’s Thomas."

–

newtmas, 2.1k words, hurt/comfort, love confessions; read here!

just a little thing i did last night while i was feeling a bit down :^)

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Dancing 'til the break of dawn - Pt5

<Pt4

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

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” began Deuce.

Ace nearly dropped his bowl. “You have?!”

“Ha ha, very funny.”

“Yeah, Ace, if you’re going to insult him, you might as well be original,” said Yuu.

Deuce narrowed his eyes at Yuu, before apparently deciding that he was just going to let that one slide. “So, Grim can clearly understand us, right?”

“Yeah,” said Ace. “But he can’t talk back because he’s a zombie.”

“No, zombies can talk, Grim can’t because he’s a cat,” Yuu said, shaking his head.

“Zombies can talk?!” Ace said, suddenly far more interested in this conversation.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much more to say on the subject: “Yeah, the ones that still have vocal cords can, but they’re kinda boring. They just kinda go ‘Yuuuuuuu’ to get my attention and then when I give it to them they go all weird and run away.”

Ace and Deuce looked at Grim. Grim seemed very interested in licking his paws clean. Makes sense, it is the apocalypse, after all, it’s not like the ground is particularly clean. Yuu frowned as he thought about the state that Grim’s poor toe pads must be in. He really should get on those booties for him. His hairballs are going to have all sorts of junk in them.

… do zombie cats have hairballs?

Wait. Can zombies digest food at all? Where do all of the humans that they’re eating go? Do zombies have to go to the bathroom –?

Deuce cleared his throat to cover up a laugh, dragging Yuu out of that particular spiral before he could go too far. “Right, okay. Uh, I was just wondering if there was a way that he could talk back? But I guess that answers that…”

“Oh, you want to try, like, a Spirit Box or something?” Ace asked.

“... a what now?” said Deuce.

“Like… it’s this radio that ghost hunters use to talk to ghosts. It cycles through radio stations super fast, you ask it questions, and if a ghost wants to it can… speak through the box, I guess?”

“Would that work, though?” Deuce asked, frowning. “I mean… Grim isn’t dead, is he…?” He seemed to realize that talking about Grim’s status like Grim wasn’t there was rude, because he turned to the zombie and asked, “Are you?”

“You can’t just ask zombies if they’re dead, Deuce,” Yuu chided. And then he considered the question and realized he actually very much wanted to know the answer. “I can, though. Hey, Grim, are you dead?”

Grim gave him a flat look. This… didn’t help answer the question.

See, this is why they need the Spirit Box!

(And, really, it’s not like they have anything else to do, so…)

~

After quickly checking out the store to make sure it was actually as empty as it originally seemed (and to see if there was any food or water left, though they had known better than to actually hope for something like that), they wandered around with carts. They had a list of things they absolutely needed, such as a radio and a generator with a hand crank, but they weren’t that concerned with it.

Why not?

Well, because they are teenagers. And, as teenagers who had only recently been freed from the shackles of having parents who want them to be safe and healthy, with no laws and no one around to judge them…

Well, they were playing bumper carts. Yes, carTs, with a T.

Yuu shrieked as his cart went careening into Deuce’s, their heads slamming against each other’s. He hissed in pain, sinking to rest his now-aching head against the front of his cart. Yikes. He wasn’t sure they could afford losing any more brain cells. But, perhaps, the loss of brain cells was even more of a problem than he had originally thought, because he still hopped out of the cart and started toward the front of the store for another one so they could play again.

He would have continued self destructing, but then Ace’s cart slammed into an aisle way too hard, and he was thrown out, into the aisle itself. He disappeared into a flurry of towels. Which should have been enough to cushion his fall, but then the aisle toppled over, and hit the next aisle, and then that one fell onto the next, and…

You get the picture.

Finally, with one final resounding screech of metal, the last aisle ran out of things to topple over, instead crashing into the milk and eggs aisle and then falling still. There was definitely a foul smell emanating from there, now, but they weren’t close enough to have to worry about it.

Besides, they had something else to worry about.

Deuce and Yuu looked at each other, eyes wide, and then back at the mess, searching for any sign of movement.

Ace pushed off some rubble so he could flash them a thumbs up.

They breathed a sigh of relief.

Grim, on the other hand, who had taken residence on one of the shelves to avoid the chaos ensuing below, looked disgruntled. He’d had to move, after all, and that must have been such a difficult thing for his poor baby. Yuu cooed and rushed to scoop up him up, smoothing out ruffled fur.

Ace gave Deuce, who had helped him out, a vague nod of acknowledgement, before sending Yuu a particularly harsh glare. It was an ‘I’d kill you if I wouldn’t immediately get targeted by every zombie in the country’ kind of look. But Yuu was immune, on account of the whole ‘It’d be your funeral, too’ thing. So he just smiled and hugged his darling closer.

“Thanks for your help,” Ace said sarcastically.

“You’re welcome!”

~

Their cart loaded up with a radio and hand crank generator – as well as some other miscellaneous things like yarn, a few marshmallow guns they were hoping might have candy in them, and some towels they could for makeshift bandages  – they started heading out.

Unfortunately, the cart stopped the moment they left the parking lot. All three of them went perfectly silent as they remembered that lots of carts were rigged to keep homeless people from stealing them. Maybe it was magnets, or something? All Yuu could tell was that the cart really didn’t want to pass over the yellow line at their feet.

Damn hostile architecture. Didn’t the old lawmakers realize that purposefully making things even harder for homeless people would be very annoying during an apocalypse?!

Deuce scoffed and walked around the cart, kicking each and every one of the wheels as hard as he possibly could.

And then he continued pushing the cart.

It passed over the yellow line with ease.

Well, maybe ‘with ease’ is not quite the right word,  because now all four wheels were somewhat out of place. But, regardless, they were still working far better than before.

Ace and Yuu looked at each other with wide eyes.

“How’d you know that would work?” Yuu asked.

“Percussive maintenance works on everything,” Deuce said, his eyes not meeting his.

Now, if it was just Yuu, Yuu probably would have let it go. But it was not, and Ace slung his arm around Deuce’s shoulders. “Someone’s lying.”

“Yeah, Grim,” said Deuce.

This was, technically, true. Grim was lying down, in Yuu’s arms.

“Oh come on, Deuce, you’re not that stupid,” Ace teased.

“I might be.”

“Are you sure that you want to win that argument?” Yuu asked, raising an eyebrow.

Deuce hesitated. On one hand, he clearly didn’t want to admit to whatever it was. On the other, arguing that you’re actually extremely dumb is not an amazing thing for your self-esteem. This was quite the conundrum.

One he didn’t really have much time to consider. Because, while the walk back ‘home’ could never be considered short, Ace wasn’t particularly patient. He was, however, extremely annoying, poking at Deuce’s face and ribs to try and get him to open up.

At least he was using his finger and not a knife. Progress.

Eventually, Deuce sighed and gave in. “Fine, but promise you won’t tell anyone, okay?”

“... literally who would we even tell?” Yuu asked.

Deuce’s face reddened. “Just promise!”

Ace and Yuu gave each other confused looks, but then shrugged. If, somehow, all three of them were saved, they would not tell their new government about Deuce’s… probable crimes, guessing by the current way the conversation was going.

As long as he didn’t tell the government about their definite crimes, at least.

Deuce cleared his throat. “Before… everything, I was… a bit of an asshole. My mom was great, but without a dad around… you know the stereotype, I’m sure. Uh… I got into some shit I shouldn’t have. It stressed my mom out, and… I always said I’d get better ‘tomorrow’. But now…” His grip tightened on the shopping cart, briefly. For the first time, Yuu noticed a myriad of pale scars lining his hands. “But that’s in the past. By the time this is over, and I see my mom again, I want to be… no, I’m going to be better..”

Yuu and Ace looked at each other, unsure of what to say for a minute. They had expected drama, not whatever this was. This was a surprisingly genuine conversation that Deuce was roping them into, and that was a rarity in their ‘friend’ group for a reason. None of them were particularly good with the whole emotions thing, as is normal for teenagers and people who manage to survive months in apocalyptic scenarios. So teenagers who had managed to survive months in an apocalyptic scenario were just about the worst things they could be at the moment.

So, what should they do?

… hopefully, if they continued treating Deuce like they normally would, he would understand that they didn’t see him any differently just because he used to be awful. Because Yuu was not going to say any of that aloud, thank you very much.

Instead, he begins with, “I mean… I’m all for personal growth and all –.”

“I’m not,” said Ace. Thank you for your input, Ace.

“ – but I’m not sure that the apocalypse is the best time to decide to be a morally upstanding person.”

Deuce looked at him warily for a minute, and then snorted. “Dude, you are such a hypocrite.”

“No, I’m not. Everything I do is perfect and amazing.”

Ace raised an eyebrow. “Your best friend is a zombie.”

One time! He befriended a zombie one time!

But he had already made this point before, to no avail, so it was time for Yuu to try a different method. He smiled, softly. “Well, I met you guys, so was it really a mistake?”

Ace and Deuce went red. Grim’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“You can’t just flirt your way out of being called out,” Ace muttered.

His smile dropped into a pout immediately. “Awwww why nooooot?”

Grim bunted his head against Yuu’s shirt in an attempt to cheer him up. At least the problematic zombie he had adopted was on his side.

~

It took longer than one would have liked to get enough power saved in the generator for the radio to start up. Only one of them could actually turn the crank at any one time, and Deuce and Ace had been talking about taking turns, so Yuu decided it was the perfect time to find a quiet (secluded, hidden) corner to learn knitting.

Frankly, he kind of wished that he had just helped them. Knitting is, apparently, very hard. He squinted at the pattern in the book he’d picked up, and then down at what he had spent the last hour and a half making. It would, nicely put, be called a bundle of string. He was going to cry. How the hell did he manage to create the legendary gordian knot by accident?

“Grim, just turn me into a zombie already,” he lamented, throwing down his knitting needles so he could rest his head in his hands.

“Don’t try to get yourself killed,” Deuce said. “Especially not because you’re bad at knitting, of all things.”

“We still haven’t established whether it’s actually dying,” Yuu said, which might not be the strongest defense, but it was the only one he could come up with on the fly.

Deuce sighed. Deeply.

And then a hand grabbed Yuu by the ear. He shrieked and immediately scrambled to follow the hand for the sake of not dying. This is the true problem with people raised by single mothers. They are simply too good at getting people to listen to them. Yuu, who had had two parents, was not as effective – he tried screaming for Grim, but Grim just seemed amused by the whole situation. The traitor.

Deuce could kill him! Or torture him! And Grim would just be sitting idly by!

When he told Grim this, Grim almost seemed to laugh. Yuu hadn’t even known that cats could do that.

This is the worst day ever.

At least he got to sit down on Ace’s futon to await his fate. Ace had gotten less stingy over the past few days. Given enough time, Yuu was pretty sure he could wear the boy down enough to sleep on the futon with him, because he was getting sick of the sleeping bag, and dragging a mattress from the nearest apartment complex sounded like way more effort than he was willing to put in.

Ace came to sit next to him, fiddling with the settings on the radio, and Deuce took the spot on his other side. They huddled somewhat closer than they usually might to watch as the radio flickered to life, the high whine of static meeting their ears. Grim snapped to full attention. Ace began flipping through stations…

There was a fundamental flaw to their plan, though, as they quickly realized.

In order for their makeshift Spirit Box to work, there would need to be radio channels for them to cycle through. And there were none. No one was concerned with playing the greatest hits when the zombie apocalypse was going on.

Yuu flopped back onto the futon. “Guys. I think we might be stupid.”

~~~~~~~~

Pt6>

[dinozenkaiju]

The Walking Dead AU thoughts ....

Buck and Bucky being in the air force before the start of the zombie apocalypse was my idea but then I watched The ones who live and Michonne and Rick on the run made me think of the Buckies.

When everything started going down and the army got involved the Buckies were tasked with bombing the bigger cities. They were dealing with alot of guilt for not giving all those innocent people a chance to evacuate but they did their job under the pressure of their higher ups.

/I think instead of helicopters they still fly bomber planes like the B-17 but something more modern ^^"/

Both of them are in a bit of denial that the dead are coming alive but Bucky is the first one to have an encounter and after that he is set at doing anything possible to protect his Buck and his men.

Buck is the type to believe blindly that if someone is infected they can heal and come back, putting himself at risk for trying to help the infected.

They manage to survive with the army for the first few months but then things kept getting worse and they found themselves being involved in the creation of the CRM

Buck was against everything the CRM did but after years of no sign for things to get back to normal he lost hope and followed his orders of bombing innocent people.

He couldn't deal with loosing people all the time and he decided that he and Bucky would be safer in the CRM.

Bucky wanted to run away years ago but Buck stopped him because it was impossible to leave the CRM alive. But Bucky couldn't live with what they did, all that bombing made him feel like he was dead already.

The only thing keeping them grounded was keeping their men safe: Curt, Brady and Demarco, Cros and Bubbles, Rosie, Blakely, Douglas and Crank.

One day after a bad mission Bucky made up his mind to run away.

It's been 7 years since the end of civilization and Bucky was ready, he didn't tell anyone of his plan except Buck of course. The less people knowing the better and if his Buck was with him he believed things would be OK.

The plan was to run away with their plane but they were always escorted by other CRM helicopters so they needed to make a diversion to be able to escape. Things didn't work out and Bucky had to shoot down the helicopters. He made this decision even knowing the men and living with them for the last few years.

Buck was shocked but he knew this was their only chance so he helped him.

Their man didn't know what was happening, why was Bucky shooting the other CRM helicopters? Did he finally gone mad? They tried to stop him but Buck convinced them that they needed to run away.

They had planned a hiding place for provisions and fuel and made a lot of distance from the CRM according to their plans their safe place was going to be some abandoned hotels they were hopeful they won't have to fight emidiatly but will have time to make their own settlement.

/not sure of an ending yet but let's pretend they were OK.