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gatitties · 7 months

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Half dead

─Task Force 141 x young!reader

─Summary: trapped after a mission, not everything seems to be going well for you, a deadly virus attacks the world and it seems that your provisional team is not very smart

─Warnings: blood, mentions of dismemberments, descriptive scenes¿, bad words, cliché, death, typical CoD violence

Part One / Part Two

I consider this as something special for Halloween¿¿, anyway I wanted to write a zombie!reader, if you have more ideas related don't be shy to request 😗

It was a hot day, too hot to be able to last more hours in the combat suit, as if that were not enough, you had been assigned with other officers for this specific mission, you did not have enough confidence to make jokes or sing a small part of that song stuck in your mind, it was the most boring day of your life but work was work.

Everything went well, maybe too well, and of course everything that ends well always has to have some setback since nothing and no one is perfect, but what you expected was that some enemy had escaped, some threat of death or things like that, however, you did not expect a virus spreading globally.

You were pretty screwed, all communication with the base was cut off, all the information was left with infected people that you had to avoid at all costs until you reached a safe and decontaminated area. You feared the worst and it seems like you're always right when you do since you were living through a fucking zombie apocalypse, it wasn't a big surprise to encounter several walking corpses on your way to the base after you were given specific orders to kill anyone who looked rotten.

What kind of time had you grown up in? It wasn't enough with a global pandemic that now you have to face a fucking apocalypse, you would prefer to have been born in the Middle Ages, at least they could have condemned you to death by burning at the stake or some far-fetched torture, it sounded more interesting and horrifying than simply a bacterial contagion.

The arrival at the base was complicated when you found a large horde, you supported the idea of surrounding the zombies but apparently the two assigned captains decided to play to see who had the biggest dick and see who could kill the most undead, they were orders from captain and you couldn't just go back to your boys until this stupid situation was over.

Apparently the only thing they managed to do was attract half of the infected city to your position, which ended in you having to separate and fight on your own. In turn, your luck wasn't smiling on you today Does that ever happen anyway? It didn't matter anymore because you were officially infected, the bite on your forearm made you bite your tongue when you saw the color of the blood mixed with yellow spittle, you were too slow and cowardly to cut off another arm at, yes, they had to bite you on your only good arm, you were so lucky.

From that moment on the infected lost interest in you, they nipped you a little and found one of your companions who was fleeing from another horde more delicious, well, screw life, at least you were able to enjoy everything you could, a shame that you can no longer continue bothering the boys with your presence.

You lay on the ground, looking at the scorching sun, your hand moved to your belt, grabbing a small radio that connected you to the central base, your pulse was unstable and your whole body began to shake, the heat became unbearable and you thought that you were experiencing hyperhidrosis. You pressed the button and brought the device closer to your mouth with the little strength you had.

"Hello… hello here “nibbles” the mission was a success, I guess you know that, but we had some complications on the way home, that virus, those stupid zombies" your breathing accelerated and for a moment you almost vomited right there "ugh… it doesn't matter, I- I don't think I'm going to make it in one piece even though I'm already missing an arm and I'm not 'in one piece' per se but…"

Even in a situation like this you couldn't help but make jokes, you continued your little talk until you felt like your consciousness was finally fading.

"I'm sorry, what I wanted to say is that I will miss you and that I will save you a special seat in hell, I don't know if we will see each other again but if we do I hope you have a bullet reserved in my name before I cause more problems , bye bye you idiots…"

You didn't want to seem too sentimental, but all the emotions and memories tightened your chest, you let the message be sent as you closed your eyes smiling at the sky, your body began to cool, suffocating the previous feeling of extreme heat.

You expected it, you expected to wake up, see the world in a different color, growl, search for meat, you know all that zombies do, however when you woke up a headache was what bothered you the most, the moon was shining in all its splendor, even though you didn't know if you'd slept a whole day or more, your whole body still felt strange and numb, like you'd taken a beating and couldn't feel anything.

But the thing was that apart from a strange feeling of being very hungry and the numbness of your body, everything remained the same, the bite mark disappeared, your wounds healed… you thought that maybe you were the cliché character who had antibodies against the zombie virus, but seeing how some of the living dead walked past you, ignoring you, made you think that it wasn't like that.

You were dead, at least, half dead, your body seemed capable enough to withstand the virus, but only half of the antibodies seemed to work on it so you were in a kind of limbo. You didn't have the need to specifically eat human meat, you still had rational thoughts (to a certain extent because you were still you), but you didn't feel your body, your skin changed its tone to a more yellowish one? you were definitely rotting, besides…

"Is this some kind of punishment for all that dark humor? I guess that's fair."

Was what you muttered to you between grunts, something else, it seemed like you weren't going to be able to speak properly since your throat seemed damaged. When you got up, one of your eyes fell out of its socket, it was hanging from the nerve, you did your best to put it in its place. You checked that your whole body responded to your movements and it did, so now you didn't know what to do. Should you go back to base? Would they kill you now that you know you're a zombie? You didn't have much to lose anyway, maybe you could say goodbye to the boys properly.

At dawn you found yourself banging on the armored doors, you were greeted by a bunch of clipped shotguns and AKs that completely lowered themselves when they recognized you, you underwent certain decontamination chambers and they let you pass. No suspicion? You looked like a terminally ill person, what kind of security was this? You couldn't complain either.

"Oh God look, where the hell were you!? and why did that message come yesterday!?"

As soon as you set foot in the meeting room where some soldiers dragged you away, Price's angry voice hit you like a slap.

"Not even a hello? How was your mission?"

You smiled swallowing your nerves, for once you felt intimidated because everyone was there watching as if you were a prey, you could see that their intentions were to look for any type of bite, although again, no one noticed that you looked like a decomposing body? Did you look that bad normally? Hard blow to your morale.

"We were worried about you, you seem sick, did you spend the night out because of that? You have the voice of a sailor with a cold."

Soap approached you but you backed away unconsciously when he reached for your arm, Gaz and Price shared a stunned look while Ghost's eyes darkened.

"Eh… I'm sorry, I think you shouldn't touch me, I think- I think-" you didn't have the courage to say it out loud, despite all the inside jokes you had made with yourself about being a walking corpse, you felt like it was too much worse to tell them because they would have to be the ones to kill you, the ones to kill their own partner, but it would be easier and less dangerous for them, right? "I'm infected."

The room fell silent, you avoided any kind of eye contact while they seemed to argue silently, Gaz was the one who stepped forward to Soap's side, a step closer to you.

"Maybe you're being paranoid, you just look sick, it's not the first time we've seen you with a fever, the last time you thought you were Spiderman and you hung from a lamp, remember?"

As much as you wanted to laugh at that memory you slowly denied, they didn't believe you in the slightest due to your constant jokes, thinking that you joked even in a situation like this (which isn't a lie if you weren't already a zombie), you swallowed dryly when this time it was Ghost that approached you, you knew that you wouldn't be able to dodge him if he tried to grab your arm, not like Soap, and so it was, you didn't feel his grip on your non-prosthetic arm but you saw it clearly, his look was slowly killing you.

"Prove it, if you are infected, prove it."

"Only if you promise to kill me."

And inevitably everyone tensed up because of the seriousness with which you said that, they didn't see that confidence in your words very often, and your determined look… they didn't want to think what they were thinking, they didn't want to accept that you had really become one of those walking rotten things, you were there, you could talk ─with a little difficulty─ but you seemed as normal as ever, how was it possible that you were infected if you didn't look like a monster?

Ironically they had to believe it by force, since you couldn't feel, you didn't notice that Ghost hadn't let go of your arm, the grip was stronger than you thought and it resulted in you turning around and taking a couple of steps to go to the cells, your arm came off your shoulder, at first they thought it was simply your prosthetic arm, but it wasn't like that.

"Oh fuck…"

Gaz leaned on Soap, Price sat in the nearest chair while Ghost looked in detail at how the bone in your arm protruded from the detached appendage as well as some veins that looked like small threads clinging to the rest of your body since they had not detached completely. You smiled embarrassed at the ignorance that you were now a Playmobil, as if that were not enough, your eye fell out of its socket again at that precise moment.

"Uh- oh, I think there you have your evidences, do you need me to start smelling like rotten meat or…?"

Ghost put your arm back in its place slowly, taking a step back, although it fell again and you had to use a handkerchief to make it stay in its place, you put your eye back in its socket, it slipped a couple of times because it was now wet due to some stubborn tears.

"Hey, hey, we're not going to kill you, I'm not going to-"

Soap had the intention of calming you down, trying to reach you although both Gaz and Ghost stopped him before he could get close to you, seeing this was like having a thorn stuck in your heart.

"No, it's fine, really, I came here so you could finish me off, one less threat on the battlefield."

You intended the joke to be funny, but all you earned were silent stares, right now you felt completely out of place, in an awkward silence between you and your team.

"No, no, you haven't thought about this have you? We can't kill you idiot." Price's insult and his usual scolding tone was the only thing that made you feel back on earth, everyone looked at him, he seemed to be fuming from his ears while the gears in his head turned "From the little we know, all the zombies have been aggressive and driven by impulses towards all kinds of life, but you're here having a normal conversation and being the dumbass you usually are on a normal day, don't you understand? We can't kill you, they can't kill you, you're different."

Oh that part came, you're different from the rest, you lived your whole life to be told that, man, were you in a fanfic? At least you hoped it wasn't one of those where they decided to put photos of outfits instead of describing the clothes or one of those where they gave you an overly detailed look.

"Does that mean I can stay half alive?"

"For the moment, anyway, no one else has to know."

Clicking your tongue as if finding out that you would still be alive was bad news, returning to your natural state of humor everyone looked at you disapprovingly, everyone seemed to sigh in relief at Price's comment, Soap and Gaz were the first to approach knowing that you wouldn't do anything, although Ghost insisted on putting a muzzle on you just in case.

For the moment they could keep you hidden from the rest of the soldiers inside the base, but it wouldn't take long for your skin to rot completely, and the smell of death was something that wasn't so easy to hide, they were playing against time until someone found you and inform it, seeing your unusual behavior as a zombie would surely draw the attention of the scientists and these guys wouldn't be willing to have you tortured in the name of science and then not get a shitty cure, they weren't risking that for you.

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wolfythewitch · 1 year

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GIVE US THE DETAILS!!!!! THE ONES YOU MENTIONED IN THE TAGS OF YOUR RECENT ZOMBIE COMIC GIVE GIVE 🙏🙏🙏🙏

THANK YOU okokokok

First is that Wilbur got bit multiple times! There's a few scrapes here and there too but the definite bites are on his hand, knee, and elbow like Phil.

Even though Wilbur is touch averse, he still leans in against Kristin's hand when she hesitates because in his mind, this is the last time he'll ever get to see her. I decided not to add speech bubbles, but he was supposed to whisper "mama"

They didn't lock Phil in with him, Phil followed in after Wilbur. What I really like about that one frame where he stands over Wilbur is like. I mentioned Phil being somewhat of a symbol of Wilbur's guilt and blame, so that fact he follows him into the room and stands watch is like!! It's just a cool nod to that. Because him saving tommy, while an act of good, was also done out of guilt.

The most you can see from Kristin is either tears beading up at the corners of her eyes, or a tearstain. She's not crying because she's trying to be strong for Wilbur and the others.

Also Wilbur and Kristin mirroring each other's poses somewhat I thought would be a cool thing to draw out

These next ones aren't really details, but more of things I couldn't include or make apparent. One is when Techno squeezes her hand, it's a silent apology before he goes to pick up tommy. That he gets to hold his little brother and sleep next to him, and Kristin can't even be with her son in his final moments.

And techno is also holding tommy tight cause this, because he is what Wilbur is "dying" (I put this in quotes cause he isn't dying but they don't know that) for. And it's a bunch of conflicted emotions. Devastation that this teen is dying for your brother, and the relief that it's him in that room and not tommy.

It's why in the og ask I said that techno was praying to a god he didn't believe in.

Because he's praying to hell and back that Wilbur lives

That Kristin won't lose her only other family

That tommy won't have to live with the guilt of someone dying for him

That Wilbur, this 14 year old kid he just met, won't die as broken and as haunted as he is now. No kid deserves that

#bafflegab z #wolfy tedtalks #zombie au #death tw

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smbapocalypseau · 27 days

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The guys✨

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exceptional-z · 7 months

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Everyone is born with a jumble of letters on their wrist, letters that will eventually be decoded to read their soulmate's name. So on a person's birthday, each year, a new letter falls into its proper place. It's not always in order; it can be a letter from the person's first, middle, or last name, though the first letter of each is always unscrambled early in life.

Zed's wrist reads Adlieon Rosalind Wsdls. It's just his luck that his soulmate's middle name is unscrambled before her first and last names. He's entering high school in two days and doesn't even know his soulmate's first name. He has no way to find her, if she even lives in Seabrook.

The first thing he'd noticed, at only six years old, is the lack of Z in her name. She isn't a zombie, unless her family decided not to follow zombie naming culture, which is unlikely. He knows almost every zombie in Zombietown and there are none with a name similar to his soulmate's.

His only chance now is human high school.

On the other side of the barrier, in a big, lonely house, Addison stares down at the wrist that she's had covered since her recent fifteenth birthday.

Zed Necrodopolis. A zombie.

Her father had been furious when he'd read the name, recognising it from his job as captain of the Z-patrol. Her mother had considered getting her soulmark removed, but the side effects were too great -memory loss, chronic pain, loss of emotion, even death. So she got a thick pink bracelet, the kind worn by those with dead soulmates, those whose soulmarks had started fading and the ink of the letters smudging together. Better have everyone pity her with the assumption of a dead soulmate than ruin her and her families reputations.

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jugger-heads · 9 months

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you know that one guy who keeps spawn sniping or coming after you everytime you load up Day-z its always the guys with the camo gear and they dont actually play they just kill other players?? hate those guys.

#laika films #paranorman #laika kids #norman babcock #laika kids modern au #kubo and the two strings #day-z #zombie shoot em up

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askthefuturestickgeneration · 3 days

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TFO ...how was your little date 7v7

He‘s actually still on it!

We send out an little „Spy“ to take an picture, but they somehow managed to get the WORST POSITION OF ALL!!

#alan becker #ava alan becker #ava #avm #ava au #avm au #ava tfo #avm tfo #Ben Bugs #Dan Daff #Jay Z.#Jarowsky Z.#Jay Zombie #Jarowsky Zombie #photography

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c-rose2081 · 2 years

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Seabrook Spirit (Role-Swap AU)

In the Role-Swap AU, I imagine the toxic green haze from the power plant blew East instead of West. It was also caused by lemonade, rather then lime soda. This means Seabrook is just basically reversed, and what was once perfect is now zombie and vise versa.

Addizon’s hood is covered in pink, lime green and black. Those are the official colors of Zombietown, and they can be found everywhere. Even in the coveralls.

Seabrook High’s colors (and the general palette of Seabrook) is maroon, evergreen and beige with silver and white accents. This is seen in common clothing, but also in the uniforms worn by athletes — as pictured here.

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randomnameless · 2 months

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Thinking about the Adrestian civil war post -

I had AUs about Hresvelg bastards or Hresvelg pretenders using the instability in Fodlan and the War to try to sweep in and make a claim for the throne - of course they don't amount to a thing and die without ceremony so the plot follows as intended,

But then after reading too much nonsense I was wondering what if the rebellion was engineered by Agarthans, through the remaining children of Ionius?

(Nopes AU)

Something like, Hans 2, Otto 4 and Helga 3 didn't die in the experiments, but only "lost their minds".

They would have died/been disposed of by Solon, if not for Agarthan searcher #56 who wonders if they can still pursue the researches, and maybe find a way to make those "useless spares" still useful, like, what if they managed to turn those bodies - who didn't die yet! - in materials, like maybe turning them into pseudo-nabateans to use them for parts?

Solon says it's impossible, the base is human, they can't turn them in Nabateans - if only they had some hybrid at hand they could study, but Cethleann has been missing for several centuries now - and yet, because Agarthan researcher #56 has 10 years of experience, instead of getting a raise he can play with the "defects" if he wants.

Researcher #56 thus tries many things, from grinding "beast bones" in powder and injecting it in Otto 4 to see the reaction (it's ugly, Otto 4 body's cannot absorb/sustain the new materials and all of his vitals stop), or even using rare "beast blood" (they got some because a moron in Kupala sold "holy blood" to them for 5k) to extract enzymes or whatever they could and inject them in Helga 3 (she died, her newest crest of Flames and the crest of Chevalier killed her).

A bit dejected, Researcher #56 only had one "try" left, and it ended up in a dud when Hans 2's brain died (as in brain activity) - and yet the body was still "in good shape", so resarcher #56 still had hopes (mechanically maintaining Hans 2 alive) for that test subject. Who needs their brain, if the body itself can turn in a beast it'd be a success!

(foolish, said Solon, without the brain, the body cannot do a thing! "well you're the foolish one, we're talking about beasts, maybe they operate differently from us?")

The war starts, Rhea is ousted from the Monastery and crashes in Faerghus.

Varley does his thing, but a former cardinal meets Solon, and tells him he will give him access to the most secret and hidden parts of the Monastery, if only they can use their magic (they have some hidden one, right?) to resurrect his long dead friend.

Solon thus has access to the Holy Tomb, and while Chilon is overjoyed because, hey, look at that treasure trove! So many materials here! - Researcher #56 happens on Sitri, and is fascinated, this thing is an artificial body, but it had the crest of flames, and is as close to a Beast as it can be!

"Nope, this one is mine" says Solon, who calls dibs on Sitri's remains.

Researcher #56 can play with anything else, save for that thing (Solon believes he can use Sitri's remains to unthaw Nemesis, if they ever need him?). Dejected, Researcher #56, after making sure Aelfric unlocked all the places, has him Miasma'd and oh, he had a crest stone? Well, finder's keeper, besides, his boss told him he could "play" with everything save for the pseudo-nabatean !

Keeping Aelfric's crest stone shard in his pocket, he and Solon find Lycaon's remains - the failed hybrid from all those years ago, sure, it didn't decay, but when they tried to harvest it they were disappointed finding out it had no crest stone and no shiny bones :(

Well, who cares, besides, he's starting to get tired of this project : he puts Lycaon's remains and the crest stone shard in an Agarthan Blender (it can even blend grown Nabateans!) and injects the resulting mixture in Hans 2's braindead body.

Maybe Hans 2's bones will become golden, or the rock will act as a substitude for the brain?

Fuck, why did he blend it??

Hans 2's acquires a Major Crest of Seiros after several days but there's still no brain activity.

Cleobulus pops up before Reseacher #56 throws Hans 2 in the "Agarthan disposal machine", the body looks perfectly fine, what if they literally use it as a figure head, or a puppet, to challenge Supreme Leader's rule?

"But Cleo, if we remove him from the giant test tube, it will die!"

"Silly, just give him a large armor where we will hide all the machines needed to keep it alive, like artificial!ventilation and artificial!heartbeat!"

They thus design a black suit of armor for Hans 2 (remotely controlled!) with a life panel, but no weird ass mask to change his voice, since duh, he can't talk, he's dead.

It sort of works, and Thales congratulates them all, taking "Hans 2" outside to prepare a "information speech".

Duke Arundel thus presents Prince Hans 2 to some randoms as, of course, the eldest son of Emperor Ionius who returned from his horrible captivity, at the hands of his treacherous sister who had him jailed and tortured to take over the throne, with the assistance of Bergliez Sr, Hevring Sr, Varley Sr and, for fun, Aegir Sr.

But thanks to his efforts, he, Duke Volkhard von Arundel, found him, nursed him back and brought him here today, to give him a chance to right the wrongs of his treacherous sister and "band of corrupt nobles", and retake his legitimate throne!

Hans 2 "nods" thanks to a mechanical device that makes Chilon able to pilot his head, and after a few "information speeches", Arundel, Aegir (what is left of the House, led by Ferdie's mom herself!) and Fenya (Hans 2's mom, Ionius spouse, was from Fenya!) rebel against Supreme Leader.

Hubert is puzzled, he was sure Solon told him Supreme Leader was the only one who survived with her mind intact, and Supreme Leader affirms "uncle" is the one who told her Hans lost his mind, so why is he even trying to take back the throne from her???

Hans 2 is, after all those speeches, returned to his giant test tube for maintenance and to make sure the body is still in perfect condition.

But...

Researcher #56, munching a bag of "Adrestian snacks" is very surprised when he sees Hans 2's results of the day, apparenly, Hans 2 has some brain activity??

He runs more tests - what the fuck is going on - and yep, within a week, Hans 2's brain activity "restarts", at first weakly but after 2 weeks, the body doesn't need mechanical "help" to survive - the body has now a major crest of Seiros, and two months after the start of Supreme Leader's war, Hans 2 opens an eye.

But is it still "Hans 2"? The beast Hans 2 died when its brain died !

Is it maybe the failed hybrid taking over this host ? But Lycaon died 1k years ago, and had no crest stone to have housed is "essence" during all those years !

Is "Hans 2" the manifestation of the essence from the crest stone? But if what that cardinal said was true, it came from the beast pretending to be archbishop, and she's still alive!

So what the fuck is "Hans 2"?!

Suddenly being afraid, Researcher #56 wants to put "Hans 2" in a freezer, next to Nemesis, but while he is writing his mail to Solon to ask for an authorisation to use a tupperware, "Hans 2" breaks out of his container/test tube.

Bias comes to the rescue, congratulating "Hans 2" for his recovery and trying to "talk" to that "thing", even to calm him with a bag of "Adrestian snacks", he must be hungry, right?

After ten "Adrestian snacks" bags, "Hans 2" starts to behave strangely, growing violent and snapping some "assistant researchers" in half - demonstrating he can use his major crest! What a discovery, when before the experiments, Hans 2 only had a minor crest! - and breaking machines.

Hopefully, Thales rewarps and pushes "Hans 2" in a tupperware, sending him to the freezer.

Outside, people only noticed there has been some sort of small earthquake south of Goneril territory, but since the war is happening, no one gives a fuck.

Supreme Leader supremely deals with the rebellions (to demonstrate his loyalty to the cause, Ferdie has to behead his mom, and traitorous siblings!) and wonders if, by miracle, one of her siblings can still be alive?

Oh well, Uncle still has to die, just like the cruel beast to free Humanity from their shackles, maybe she'll make a special investigation team to look for her brother, or the one pretending to be him.

In SB, Thales plans on having "Hans 2" and Nemesis'n'pals released from the freezer and brought to the battlefield when the beast and Supreme Leader are making their way to him : maybe Supreme Leader will stay her hand (or the beast?) faced with her brother and it will give him an opportunity to win, while the nabateans will focus on Nemesis, and it will give him the chance to fell the both!

but his mail goes in Researcher #56 "spam" box, and "Hans 2" is never released :(

In AG, Thales prefers to use Supreme Puppet, after all, if the Faerghus boy is their enemy, maybe he will still his hand at the last moment, and it will give them an opportunity to strike : after all, Cleobulus told him how this boy and Supreme Leader seemed to have been friends, and how much her departure and subsequent betrayal - starting the war to march on Faerghus - affected him.

No need to free "Hans 2", besides, not exactly knowing what is Hans 2, it's by essence a more difficult weapon to control.

The (pointless) end :(

#fodlan nonsense #fodlan AU #nopes nonsense #poor hans 2 #fodlan zombies #tfw agarthan google automatically putting thales' mail in the spambox killed him #tfw Aelfric thinks Chilon is a better character than Rhea #Solon thought maybe by putting Citrus in the blender and having a Citrus milkshake injected in Zombie!Nemesis it might wake him up from #the whatever seal Rhea placed on him #even I don't know what Z!Hans 2 is #FE16

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turbonicflaws · 2 years

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Zombie Raditz concept for my family reunion comic

#dragon ball #dragon ball fanart #dragon ball z #raditz #dragon ball au #zombie raditz HOORAY #jojojoart #dbz #gore #body horror

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beachbunnymp4 · 1 year

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new art for the z-o-m-b-i-e-s biohazard au

now, the characters would not have access to snapchat or any apps of the sort, so my explanation for this is that someone (probably eliza) coded a seabrook exclusive version of snapchat lol

also this is joke/nonserious art but genuinely has to be one of my favourite drawings I have ever done?? like I'm so proud of the composition lmfao why was this the drawing I finally learnt how to draw

#z o m b i e s #zombies fanart #z o m b i e s fanart #disney zombies #zombies dcom #zombies biohazard au #dcom #disney channel #art

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polychromatiica · 9 months

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some art of my z-o-m-b-i-e-s au :DD noticed a lot of my old posts abt these movies have been getting likes again and it made me feel like doing more art for it :)

edit: altered colours

#disney zombies #z o m b i e s #z o m b i e s fanart #zombies biohazard au #fanart #art #illustration #artists on tumblr #digital art

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cartwheelapple · 1 year

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some drawings for the infected au (where guqqie is infected and slowly turning into a zombie and aimsey needs to try and safe her)

zombie guqqie is doing a little jig <3

#guqqie #sunshipduo #aimsey #aimsey fanart #sunshipduo fanart #guqqie fanart #SunshipInfectedAu #z!guqqie #zombie apocolypse au #digital art #im so obsessed with this au #it is just so bittersweet and so cool #apple's cool and awesome art

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smbapocalypseau · 29 days

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[Repost] Hi!! Decided to make a separate blog for this au so gonna be a few reposts ✨

Z!luigi in the wild

#smb apocalypse au #smb au #super mario bros au #mario bros au #apocalypse au #apocalypse #super mario #mario bros fanart #mario fanart #super mario bros #mario bros #mario #zombie luigi fanart #luigifanart #zombie luigi #luigi #z!luigifanart #z!luigi #zombie

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exceptional-z · 7 months

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my favourite soulmate au's that i want to use for zeddison:

each others’ names (or initials) on their wrist

first words to one another on their wrists

matching soulmark/tattoo that's unique to them

a timer for when they first meet

writing that says how old your soulmate will be when you meet

writing that says what your soulmate is most passionate about

each year imprinted on your arm, whispered in a dream, sent in a mail or whatever, is a hint to who your soulmate

each day on your arm is a particular event your soulmate will face today. (ex: promotion, family death, new pet, meeting soulmate…)

meter of how dangerous or in danger your soulmate is

the first sentence you say to your soulmate gets written on yourself after you say it

whenever someone describes your soulmate, those words appear in a special journal

you see colour for the first time when you meet, fades away when they die

you stop aging at a certain age, until you meet your soulmate

your heartbeat is morse code for your soulmates name

soulmate’s heart beat on your wrist

write something on your own skin, appears on the other’s skin

your eyes are your soulmate’s hair colour

at the corner of your eye, you can see a blurry vision of whatever your soulmate is doing

you can feel a tug from wherever your soulmate is and it's stronger tugs whenever your soulmate is in distress

everyone gets little books of what people think about their soulmate (but never said out loud)

literal sparks fly when you're near your soulmate, soothing for the two of you but static shock for others

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taizi · 2 years

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For the dialogue prompts to break a reader's heart, might I request 6,7, and 8 (either combined or not- with your writing, it'll be good no matter what) for Natsuyuu (bonus points for NishiNatsu and/or Natori being best bro)?

If you're up for it, of course- if not, that's cool too.👌

HEARTBREAKING PROMPTS

6. "Am I going to die?"

ao3 // ko-fi

Shuuichi is on set when the news breaks.

A panicked college-aged intern is turning the volume up on the TV in the lounge, and Shuuichi looks up from his lines in time to watch a local station air some amateur drone footage of what looks like the apocalypse.

It’s a busy intersection downtown, which at this time of morning should be in full swing as people commute to work or classes. Instead, traffic has ground to a standstill, vehicles left abandoned as hundreds of people run from a frenzied mob.

The room is quiet, everyone slow to react to what they’re seeing. It’s like something from a horror film—found-footage is trendy, when it’s produced well, so for a moment Shuuichi thinks he’s looking at an upcoming Netflix original. He finds himself thinking the Foley effects could use some work.

Then it cuts back to two pale, shaken newscasters sitting stiffly behind their desk. The anchorwoman is turned in her chair, a hand covering the mic clipped to her shirt as she speaks rapidly to someone off-screen. The anchorman’s eyes dart as he reads silently from the teleprompter, and then he clears his throat.

“We’ve received word from our correspondents in Tokyo that the recent widespread reports of violent and erratic behavior are not a local event. The National Institute of Infectious Diseases has not yet confirmed if this is the work of a virus, but eye-witnesses on social media have made the comparison to—to rabies. Again, there is no official statement yet, but it is strongly recommended that you stay in your homes, and avoid all contact with individuals showing any of the following symptoms—”

“What the fuck,” Hana blurts. She’s still sitting at the table across from Shuuichi, where she’d been running lines with him, but her script lay abandoned now. “Is this a joke?”

“I’m checking Yahoo,” the intern says. Her nose is already buried in her phone. “I don’t understand, the streets were clear when we got here.”

“The streets were empty when we got here, because it was like three o’clock in the morning,” someone from the AD department retorts. “What I want to know is how something like this could have happened in a matter of hours.”

There’s a bit of a flurry then, of people checking their phones and computers, or getting up to stand closer to the television. Two men leave the room at a brisk clip to collect the cast and crew still milling about the set, and a woman Shuuichi vaguely recognizes as Hana’s agent uses the landline to call the security office in the front of the building.

Shuuichi’s heart is racing. He’s staring at the news broadcast, at the worried reporter standing outside a hospital, where flashing ambulances are lined up and paramedics are rushing up to the building pushing gurneys.

A digital banner stretches across the bottom of the screen, the scrolling text reading China has declared a state of emergency. All inbound flights have been diverted. The United States has declared a state of emergency. All inbound flights have been diverted. Great Britain has declared a state of emergency. All inbound flights have been…

“Urihime,” he says under his breath, “check in with Hiiragi now.”

Hana gives him an odd look but Urihime nods and disappears without a word. Sasago, hovering faithfully at his opposite shoulder, drifts closer to make up for her absence. Shuuichi forces his eyes away from the TV and digs his phone from his pocket.

There are thirty-some email notifications, a handful of texts—but most concerningly, a missed call.

Shoving away from the table, Shuuichi taps to redial, and holds the phone to his ear. He paces to the far side of the room, and can’t force himself to breathe until the moment the line finally connects and Natsume’s quiet voice says, “Natori-san?”

Oh my god, Shuuichi thinks, pressing his forehead against the wall, oh, thank god.

“Are you alright?” he demands. “Is everyone there alright?”

“We’re fine,” Natsume says quickly. “Um, everyone’s still asleep but me and Kitamoto. There’s been a lot of noises in the hallway, but Hii—I mean. I figured I shouldn’t open the door.” Shuuichi makes a mental note to kiss Hiiragi right on the face for strong-arming the most stubborn teenager alive into staying in the relative safety of the hotel room. “I, um, I tried to call you—”

“I know, I’m sorry. I didn’t see it,” Shuuichi says. He rubs a hand over his face, struggling between the crippling relief that the kids are safe, and the visceral, terrifying reality that something could potentially still happen to them. “I’m on my way back now, okay? Stay put. Listen to Hiiragi. Don’t let the chaos twins do anything stupid.”

He means Taki and Nishimura, and he knows Natsume knows exactly who he means. He hears the kid murmur something, ostensibly to Kitamoto, and then the sound of movement, and then a door closing softly.

“I’m in the bathroom now. Natori-san, are you sure?” He sounds frightened. His voice is still quiet, but his words are coming faster now, all but running together as his anxiety rears its head. “I mean—we looked out the window a few minutes ago, and it’s—”

“Hey,” Shuuichi says firmly. “I know what it looks like outside. I don’t care. Keep away from the windows, and keep quiet, and wait for me. Tell your monster he has my full permission to sit on you if that’s what it takes.”

Natsume laughs a little. “He’s listening. He says he doesn’t need your permission.”

“For once, cat, I almost respect you,” Natori says with a light-heartedness he doesn’t feel. “Alright, Natsume. Wake your friends up, eat something. I’ll see you soon.”

He hangs up, digs the heel of his hand into his eyes, and allows himself five seconds of silent panic. Then he turns around and strides for the door.

“Um, Natori-san, I don’t think you should leave,” Hana says, alarmed, as he grabs his coat from the hook and pats the pockets to find his keys. “The governor said—and the police—Natori-san, we’re supposed to stay inside!”

That gets some attention. There’s a sudden swell of well-meaning colleagues rounding on him, urging him to stay calm, sit back down, let Ha-ri make you some tea. Ordinarily, Shuuichi might have been touched by their concern, but now he just doesn’t have time for it. He glances at Sasago and then looks pointedly at the door. She inclines her head and sweeps out in front of him, causing the people in his way to stumble aside and neatly clearing his path.

Everyone is staring at him, staggered. Even the ones who weren’t pushed by an invisible force seem staggered. Natori spares a moment to bow his head and says, “Thank you for taking care of me. Good luck.”

He pushes out the door into the empty hallway. His steps on the polished tile floor echo, and another pair of footsteps follows him out.

It’s the intern, Ha-ri. She lifts her chin and says, “My little brother’s cat-sitting at my apartment. He’s only in Osaka in the first place because of me.”

“I’m headed for Tennoji ward. If you’re going in the same direction, you’re welcome to tag along,” Shuuichi replies, and holds the door to the parking garage open for her.

As soon as they’re outside, it’s clear they’ve left safety behind. There’s an overturned car on the street, burning steadily, and another parked on the sidewalk with a shattered windshield. It’s ominously still—the busy morning foot-traffic is conspicuously absent.

Sasago leaps to the roof of the garage and casts her blindfolded eyes up and down the street. Urihime joins her there, glancing down at Shuuichi.

“The kids are safe,” she says shortly. “Let me guide you, Natori-dono. The streets are a mess, but I remember which ones are mostly deserted. Sasago and I will clear the way. Count on us.”

They move quickly. Ha-ri keeps close and says nothing, hands white-knuckled on the strap of her crossbody bag, canvas sneakers treading silently on the asphalt. If she thinks it odd that Shuuichi turns down streets and alleyways seemingly at random with total confidence, she keeps it to herself.

The set in Chuo is only a few miles away from the hotel the kids picked in Tennoji. They were so looking forward to this trip, a whole week in the city with a movie-star chauffeur at their beck and call. Shuuichi left them to sleep in this morning, with plans to get some work done at the studio and be back in time to bring them lunch, but he wishes he hadn’t. He shouldn’t have left.

Sasago throws herself bodily in front of him before he can round the next corner, and Ha-ri stumbles into his back at his sudden stop. Urihime hisses through her teeth for them to get down! Shuuichi grabs Ha-ri by the strap of her bag and drags her down with him, their backs pressed against the side of a large vending machine.

Something shambles by.

Ha-ri gasps, and then muffles herself with both hands before she can give them away, her knees tucked in tight against her chest. Urihime and Sasago are crouched warily in front of them, a guard that only Shuuichi is aware of. And on the street, moving in odd, awkward clusters, there are…

People.

People with torn clothes and tossed hair, looking as though they just tumbled out of a car accident. A lot of them have blood on their necks, or their hands, or their mouths. All of them have milky-white eyes and a vacant expression, as though they’re sleepwalking through this nightmare.

The last thing Shuuichi expects is for the nearest one to turn its face toward the shiki. Shuuichi’s heart shoots up into his throat as the—the sleepwalker teeters drunkenly, staring straight at Urihime, who is visibly bracing herself for a fight. Thankfully, though, it seems like the sleepwalker is aware of yokai in the same way that animals are—a passing interest only, the spheres of their existence just overlapping in the fringes.

Shuuichi and Ha-ri stay absolutely still until the street has emptied. Even when Sasago quietly gives the all-clear. They just sit there, not speaking, breathing like they’ve run a marathon.

Then Ha-ri says, “Rabies.”

“What?” Shuuichi asks stupidly.

“The man on the news said it,” the girl replies. Her voice is wooden and grim. “He said that it was like rabies. And they—some of them looked like they’d been—”

She doesn’t say it. She doesn’t have to. Shuuichi closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the machine behind him. Acclimating to this brand new genre of shit-show he has no choice but to deal with.

“Natori-dono,” Sasago says with some urgency.

“Right,” he mutters, and pushes himself to his feet. He stretches a hand down to Ha-ri, pulls her up beside him, and they go.

They bump into a few other people, panic-stricken and running for whatever safe place is waiting for them. None of them linger long enough to exchange words. Most stores and kiosks they pass are closed and locked tight, security shutters lowered. Outside a little fast food restaurant is a row of delivery scooters parked on a rack; one of the scooters is missing, and there’s a broken lock lying on the ground next to an abandoned sledgehammer. Without pause, Ha-ri stoops and picks up the hammer.

The shiki save them two more times within fifteen minutes; the third time, Shuuichi doesn’t need the warning, and neither does his young companion. They fling themselves silently into a sidestreet, and Shuuichi shoves Ha-ri back even farther, into the shadow of a stoop, just in time to miss a handful of the sleepwalkers who seem to be chasing the taillights of a passing car.

“I think it’s safe now,” Shuuichi says, and starts to step back onto the sidewalk, but Ha-ri grips his sleeve.

“I have to go the other way,” she tells him, barely more than a whisper. Her eyes are wide, and with the huge glasses and full bangs she looks absurdly young. She’s only a few years older than the kids Shuuichi is responsible for. But there’s iron in her spine, and she lifts her chin the way she did back at the studio when she refused to stay behind. She ducks forward in a bow, and says, “Thank you for taking care of me until now.”

Fuck, Shuuichi thinks. Out loud he says, “Give me your phone.”

Bewildered, Ha-ri tucks the hammer under her arm to slide her iPhone out of her back pocket.

Shuuichi opens the messages app and texts himself. Handing the phone back, he grits out, “I know that kids seem to have a medical condition that makes them choose to be stupidly self-reliant at the absolute worst of times, but you have my number. Contact me if you need help. For your brother and your cat, if not for yourself.”

Ha-ri blinks rapidly a few times, taken-aback. Then she smiles for the first time all morning. She slips her phone back into her pocket, bows again, and says, “Be careful, Natori-senpai. Don’t let them bite you.”

Then she spins around and runs the opposite way down the winding alley toward the chained fence blocking the next street. She tosses her bag and the hammer over first, then plants one sneaker on the fence, heaves herself to the top, and disappears on the other side without a sound.

She’ll probably be fine.

“Urihime,” Shuuichi orders quietly.

With a displeased sigh, the shiki takes off after her. Sasago tilts her head toward the street, and Shuuichi follows.

He’s running on nothing but anxiety and adrenaline by the time he reaches the hotel. It’s tucked away at the end of a busy street, near a huge train station, because of course it is. There are dozens of sleepwalkers in the way, and Shuuichi’s stomach sinks like a stone.

But Hiiragi appears in front of the building, and points with her sword toward the small service road that leads around to the back, presumably for the unloading of delivery trucks. Then she disappears again, and Shuuichi realizes why a moment later. The window of a restaurant a few blocks away explodes into a loud shower of glass, and all the shambling bodies on the street react like wild animals, clawing over one another to rush toward the sound.

It’s potentially the most horrifying thing Shuuichi has ever seen. He very carefully compartmentalizes his reaction, because frankly there’s no time for it right now.

Once they’re in the building, weaving through eerie stockrooms and a gleaming, completely abandoned commercial kitchen, Sasago leads him past the elevator to the stairwell, and then herds him up four flights of stairs, glaring coldly when he dares gasp for air too loudly.

“Well, excuse me,” Shuuichi wheezes. “Not all of us can float.”

There are some alarming sounds on the second floor, and absolute silence on the third and fourth. Shuuichi doesn’t trust it for a second, but he shoves open the stairwell door when Sasago gives him the go-ahead, and beelines straight for his suite.

Ridiculously, he starts searching his pockets for his keycard. The door is ripped open a second later, and Hiiragi says, with just barely passable deference, “Natori-dono. Get inside now.”

The moment he does, he feels himself cross a barrier. It’s like stepping into a physical net of safety. It feels as though whatever is happening outside can’t reach him here, even though he knows that can’t really be true. He can hear quiet chatter from the next room, all those dear voices present and correct and secure.

He leans against the wall and closes his eyes. He just needs a minute.

When he opens them, he has company. On the step above the neat row of shoes lined up in the entryway, Madara is tucked into a fat little loaf, unnatural green eyes glinting. The symbol on his forehead is glowing faintly. Shuuichi doesn’t think he’s ever seen it sustained for longer than a few seconds at a time.

“Is this your work, cat?” Shuuichi asks, waving a hand to indicate that barrier he’s only peripherally aware of. His voice is hoarse and exhausted. The cat deigns not to comment on the state of him, which is a kindness he didn’t expect.

“If you don’t like it, you can leave,” Madara says plainly.

“I paid for this room, freeloader,” Shuuichi mutters, and braces a hand against the wall as he follows the quiet sound of conversation into the sitting room of the extravagant suite. It’s dimly lit even at half past ten in the morning, with the heavy curtains pulled across the windows, and the TV is on so low he can barely hear it over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears.

He barely catches a glimpse of Natsume’s wide-eyed expression before the boy is crossing the room at a run and colliding with him hard enough to knock the breath out of his lungs.

It’s the absolute last thing on the list of things Shuuichi has to complain about. It doesn’t even make the list. He plants his chin on the top of Natsume’s head, wraps an arm around his shoulders, and takes a full breath for the first time since he saw that news broadcast.

Natsume is joined in short order by a tearful Taki, then Nishimura, then Ogata. Kitamoto slumps where he’s sitting, like whatever has been propping him up this whole time just collapsed underneath him. Shibata glares at Shuuichi with vitriol, because he tends to get his feelings mixed up when he’s thrown into high-pressure situations, but he buries his face in Tanuma��s shoulder before his mouth can run away from him. Tanuma, for his part, looks like he’s just barely keeping a panic attack at bay by nothing but sheer willpower and the need to be present for his friends. He pats Shibata on the back gently.

They’re all ruffled and pale, still in their pajamas, wrapped in the extra throw blankets from the closet and the duvets from the beds. It’s like a slumber party gone catastrophically wrong.

“It’s okay,” Shuuichi tells the room at large. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“What’s happening outside?” Ogata asks, voice warbling. “I called my friend Junko, but she lost signal. She told me that a bunch of people broke into her dad’s store. She said they were acting really strange.”

“We found a bunch of different news stations on TV,” Tanuma whispers. “It’s happening all over the country.”

“I can’t get ahold of my parents,” Kitamoto blurts. “Or my sister. Or Tsuji or Sasada. Or anyone from Hitoyoshi.”

“Are you okay?” Natsume says, pulling out of Shuuichi’s arms just enough to look up at him with stricken brown eyes. His voice cuts through the room easily, because no one is willing to talk over him. “Did you run the whole way here? Come sit down. Shibata, move. Satchan, can you get him something to drink?”

Shuuichi smiles as they scurry like little worker ants, and gratefully accepts the expensive bottled water from the minibar that Nishimura presses into his hands. He can see the kids visibly sitting on their questions, trying to be respectful, and he thinks they’re so good. They’re much better than he was when he was their age.

They don’t deserve whatever fresh hell is happening outside.

“Here’s what I know,” Shuuichi says, and lays everything out.

“You don’t know much,” Shibata says judgmentally. Nishimura digs an elbow into his stomach.

“What are we going to do?” Taki asks. "Are we going to die?"

"No, Tooru," Shuuichi says sternly, shutting that down as fast as he can. "None of you are going to die."

She’s frightened and clearly trying to be brave. She has a marker clenched in her fist, and it reminds Shuuichi of the way Ha-ri had hefted that sledgehammer.

All of their worried faces are turned up toward his. He’s the oldest person in the room, ancient at almost twenty-four years old. He’s responsible for them, agreed to be when their parents gave permission for this big trip to the city. It’s his job to make things right. Somehow, he has to make this right.

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and opens the new texts, with an audience of at least four teenagers peering over his shoulders.

They’re both from Ha-ri. The first one is a selfie. She’s sitting on the carpeted floor of what looks like a bedroom, with her arm around the shoulders of a boy who looks exactly like her. There’s a huge orange cat draped across their laps and the twins are grinning wearily at the camera.

Made it, the text beneath it reads. And you?

Shuuichi finds himself smiling. He glances around the room and says, “If you could go anywhere, where would you go?”

The kids seem thrown off by the question, but only for a moment. They trade glances, communicating in that silent language that people only develop after spending way too much time together, and then Shibata speaks up.

“My parents are overseas.”

“So are mine,” Taki says.

“My mom is a doctor,” Kitamoto pipes up. He’s near tears, frightened that he hasn’t heard from his family yet. “She’ll be able to help.”

Nishimura slips away to shove himself into the armchair with Kitamoto, which is probably equal parts annoying and comforting. He takes Kitamoto’s hand and squeezes hard, and that tips the scales in favor of comfort, after all. Kitamoto leans against him and looks a little less frantic.

“My brother’s pre-med,” Nishimura adds. “And supposedly he’s back from university for the weekend. He wouldn’t be completely useless to have around, I guess.”

“Junko’s on our way,” Ogata says quickly. “She could meet us and come along.”

“There’s room at the temple for everyone,” Tanuma offers in his careful, thoughtful way. He sounds like he's half-afraid his friends might shoot him down, even now, in this worst-case scenario. He's ridiculous and Shuuichi would do anything to protect him.

Natsume lifts his ugly cat into his arms and hugs it tightly. His eyes are moonlike, round and hopeful. It’s obvious who he’s thinking of—Touko and Shigeru and their big, welcoming smiles, and their big, welcoming house, and how they always leave a light on for him.

No one has outright said it yet; none of them are eager to sound childish in the face of what is shaping up to be a global disaster. They’re trying to be very grown-up about it.

But the wanting is plain on their faces. It’s clear where they would all feel safest.

Shuuichi is thinking about Madara’s barrier, and the deft way the shiki handled the sleepwalkers every step of the way between Chuo ward and Tennoji. He’s thinking about all of Natsume’s questionable friends among the ghosts of Yatsuhara, and their unwavering loyalty to him, and how eager they are to prove their worth. He thinks that Hitoyoshi might just be the best place to go, if only they can make it there.

“Okay,” Shuuichi says. “Let’s go home.”

#📢ZOMBIE AU📢#im so predictable. its fine #natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #natori shuuichi #natsume takashi #my writing #prompt #natsumiyasblog #natsume zombie au #will i add more to this ?? potentially #ive been watching z movies all weekend ok let me live #thinking of dawn of the dead (2004) and how the nurse got home from a normal shift and woke up the next morning to a total shit show #those vibes #i didnt edit this at all pls forgive me

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