#animal crossing zombie apocalypse

[batterygarden]

even more bf Denji hcs

Part 3; F!reader, suggestive moment MDNI, college age, very miscellaneous

m.list , part 1, part 2

One time you were complaining about your lower back aching all day and Denji was sick of it. “I could just crack your back right now and ya wouldn’t have to be hurting.” “Denji you’re not a chiropractor, it’s fine.” “A what? Here, just turn around.” You hesitantly faced the other way and Denji swiftly karate chopped your spine so hard it knocked the wind out of you. Then somehow your back did feel kinda better.

Animals absolutely love this man. Kids too. It kinda hurts your feelings that they seem to forget you’re there the second Denji walks in a room, but there’s just something about his energy that has them gravitating. Even your own kin!! Your own little cousins and family members. Like you’ll show up to a dinner without him and when they see you’re alone it’s all frowns and “Where’s Denji? Why didn’t he come?” 

Sometimes Denji’s openness with strangers leads to the wrong idea, and, occasionally, Denji will get hit on despite having a girlfriend. If no one else is there to notice, he honestly just gives a polite yet firm “I have a girlfriend.” in response. But on one occasion it happened while you were standing next to him, and, not wanting you to feel jealous, Denji crossed his arms and scowled. “Can’t ya see my lover standing right here?? Get lost, champ! I’d never be interested in you or anyone but her! >:-(“ 

The person promptly apologized and left. “Denji.. I’m glad you’re loyal but you didn’t have to do all that.” 

Denji has to mumble sorry in between kisses when he accidentally bites you. “No it’s okay, I like a little biting!” “Oh yeah?” He smirks then deliberately chomps hard on your lower lip. ”Ow! Not like that.” “sorry.” 

He is a talented sleeper! Before he met you, you could have named any location and Denji would have claimed to be able to nap there. Now that you’re in the picture though, Denji’s gotten a little more high maintenance. He still thinks he could fall asleep anywhere—but now it’s only if you’re there too. Denji feels your absence, he can’t relax the same way he used to be able to without you. So he has to be really tired and in a comfy bed to fall asleep somewhere you’re not. 

Speaking of sleep, napping together is one of Denji’s love languages. You have to be cuddling though, or at the very least holding hands, or else it isn’t the same. Denji’s favorite napping position is one where his head’s on your chest, listening to your heartbeat. He’s always happy spooning too. 

“Y’smell kinda nice.” Oh yeah? Only kinda? “No no very nice. Like, you smell like uhh.. that freezuh stuff you use.” My freesia perfume?? Thanks.

He’s a sassy texter for certain :(

You text him you won’t be home for another 30 minutes and he thumbs down the message and sends back “ugh! 😒” 

“If there was a zombie apocalypse I’d so die cause of you.” “Huh!” “I just know we’d be fucking scavenging in some old supermarket and I’d be getting us food and weapons and you’d be riskin’ it all to try and stock up on your see-rah vay face wash or somethin’” “You mean my Cera Ve cleanser??” 

He’d rent one of those electric scooters to ride around town and then immediately crash it. You have to make him wear a helmet next time. 

He narrates random things he’s doing. He did it all the time growing up with Pochita, and old habits die hard. You find it endearing! Sometimes it’s just mumbling “okay now I’m gonna get dish soap and put some on the plate… and now we gotta scrub it clean..” 

He’s careful as hell when trying out new kinks with you. He doesn’t want to hurt you and he cares so much that you’re comfortable!! Like if you’re asking for some bdsm he’s down to try! He is kinky too! But like… constant check-ins at first. And a safe word for sure. 

He will EAT UP some deez nuts jokes 😞. The day you were craving a Wendy’s frosty around him was the day you lost peace.

A mall trip with Denji… oh my god he’d have a ball. Getting Cinnabon and trying on a million pairs of shoes—there’s so much to do! Then you start tugging his hand towards the Victoria’s Secret and his cheeks almost burn off. He pretends like he’s been in there before and it’s no big deal but his brain is on red alert Where am I supposed to look??? 

Like he’s touched underwear before! While doing laundry and while looking for things in your dresser and most importantly while you were wearing it, but he can’t help but feel like a perv doing it in public. So when you ask him to “feel how soft this bra is,” he has to triple check no one is paying attention to him first.

This man is a board game CHEATER. And he’s never ever as sneaky about it as he thinks he is. He’ll ask you to leave the room to get something for him at the most convenient times and you’ll come back to missing chess pieces or your hand of cards laying in a different position. If Power is there she’s an automatic co-conspirator; you may as well give up and admit defeat the easy way. 

He’s convinced you have magic kisses—and maybe it’s a placebo situation but your lips do seem to carry healing properties for him. His headaches will go away. His sinuses will clear. He’ll get a boost of energy. You can always motivate him with them. If he was stuck in the desert for thirty days he’d take a kiss from you before taking water. 

kinda short but im thinkin im going to try and post csm stuff at least every csm tuesday! also sorry i've been slow on requests--I appreciate them and am working on them just slow bc im busy! I updated info ab those in masterlist <3

#csm headcanons #denji x you #Denji x reader #chainsaw man drabble #chainsaw man headcannons #Denji fluff #boyfriend Denji #bf Denji #Denji hcs #denji/reader #csm x reader #csm fics

[rzyraffek]

Yall im bored and i have dol brainrot. Here u go random mostly sfw headcanons. Most of them are just jokes btw don't take this seriously. Beware i am not dol master so If something is inaccurate pls dont crucify me. Request open btw

Includes: what kind of music they lisen, random stuff they do, ect.

I used they/them for both PC and love intrests so some of those sentences were a hell to write

Tw: me going crazy over Avery (i have issues, pls if what I wrote was weird, just close your eyes and idk explode irl idc)

Random DOL headcanons

Kylar

IM FUCKING CONVINCED that this owl plushy that they give to PC has a camera inside. Im not sure if thats mensioned in game AND I didnt see anyone talk about this. But this dude litteraly says "make sure to put it somewhere high so it can protect you/watch you over" (im not 100% sure what they said but it was along those lines)

Wants to have matching black nails with PC

If their heart wouldnt beat so fast everytime PC gets close to them, Kylar acually would OFTEN fall asleep on PC's lap or shoulder (especially in school)

If s/o is afab, Kylar is defnitly into period sex

Had a huge zombie phase and has whole plan (in details) about how and what to do in case of zombie apocalypse acually happening (and they would acually lighten up if PC mensions anything about zombies, Kylar will talk about them whole night!)

Average phonk listener

Sidney

Sometimes wakes up in middle of night after nighmares and wishes PC would be there

High purity sindey will nervously figet with cross-neckace everytime they have lewd thoughts about PC

Overthinker

Sometimes when they pray together he pretends to have eyes closed but they acually look at PC cuz omg love, you look stunning

Watched Barbie with PC (liked it very much)

Lisens to Mitski

Pure Sydney cried after lisening to cupcake songs

Great Hawk

Dude is a simp

Loves when PC has flowers in their hair, and please give them some too!

If PC praises hawk when they give PC expensive objects (jewellery, wallets, purses ect) this harpy guy/gal will call them "little crow"😭 cuz from Hawks perspective thats how it looked like- they find wife, wife sad, they give shiny, wife happy.

(Alr guys this one is a 50/50 cuz im not sure if harpys have hands? Or just wings?) He discovered hand holding and now he wants to hold PC hand all the time!! But his claws sharp so be careful

Likes when PC has colorful hair

Sounds of Forest and other birds (and bird-people) are only sounds he music he needs 🦅

Got scared bcs there was a rock/metal music concert in city and it was loud and he was very upset

Eden

Dude wants to have kids so bad😭😭

Very tall!

If Pc is tiny/short, this guy/gal will pick them up with one hand and just carry PC back to their home

PLEASE kiss their old scars, and complement them! Eden doesnt really like how they look (they are not insecure but they just dont find time to pamper themselfs and look all fancy)

Sometimes wakes up in middle of night with cold sweat and checks if PC is still there

Conteplated if plant people are eatable

Hates deep water

Will say "I dont lisen to music" and then gets judged by PC and me. ( he enjoys some romantic old songs, i guess he likes Micheal Jackson? Maybe the ink spots??Idk)

Avery

Dude just wants to have good reputation😭😭 and nice looking PC

Tbh I would enjoy Avery-dad-figure content😭 like PC just doing all this stuff just to be accepted by some guy that could be their dad😭 their are fatherless afterall😭. Like hear me out PC just craving platonic love from this dude while he just wants to smash😓 (tbh he is not always doing sexuall stuff, sometimes he just vibes)

Pls dude is like 40 wtf is he doing with his life

*in car* "I swear PC if you say anything more about kpop im leaving you in forest"

Lisens to chrismas music😭

Ivory

Dude ate a squirrel once

I wanna cuddle them

Pls they look wet and cold, give them a nice towel and later blanket

Definitely got scared by their own reflection in mirror once

Can talk to animals

Lisens to gothic music

Likes bugs (months, Beatles, bees)

Alex

Dude lisens to Pitbull while working at farm

Picks PC up and throws them on hay piles for fun

Alex and Remy should settle this beef for good, they both should do kahoot about farm animal knowlage and no more "no its my farm not yours!" Bullshit

Watches soap opera when bored

Wears cowboys hats

Ginger

Leninghton

Rizzing up people twice younger than him (hes like 40 or something)

Enjoys board games and omg he loves card games

Hes probably married tbh

Has reddit account😔

The photos he takes in classes? He sells them

He and Bailey should kiss in meat grinder for beating PC ass for no reason🤩😍

#dol #dol great hawk #dol avery #dol kylar #dol sydney #sydney the faithful #kylar the loner #dol x reader #eden the hunter #dol eden #ivory wraith #alex the farmhand #dol ivory wraith #dol alex

[myosotisa]

Old Heart - Part 4 - Build

‖ chapter summary: Following the destruction of Memphis, you and Eddie make your way to the spot where he is set to hand you off for the final leg of your journey to Colorado.

‖ tags: enemies to lovers, age gap (41 and 25), forced proximity, slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, HEA, "zombie" apocalypse, reader uses she/her pronouns, no y/n, no physical description given, minors dni

‖ chapter warnings: grief and the tumultuous emotions included. abandonment issues. mentions of untreated terminal illness (cancer). implied/referenced suicide (very implied, not graphic). animal death and using it in a meal. also alcohol.

‖ word count: 11k

‖ prev ‖ ao3 ‖ masterlist ‖ tag list request ‖ next ‖

August 18th through 23rd, 2016 – somewhere in Arkansas

You only make the mistake of asking Eddie to talk about Memphis twice.

The first time was Thursday night after the two of you had settled into a place to sleep that seemed secure enough for both of you to sleep through the night. He’d assisted you with changing the bandages on your wound with the supplies him and Max had managed to scrape together while you had been catatonic. It was vague – more of an offer that if he wanted to talk to you about it, you were there for him. He’d bitten back with a harsh retort that there was nothing to talk about before rolling over and pretending to go to sleep.

Progress had been slow as you trekked across the state together due to your injury. You felt tired faster, found yourself pushing to keep going until you got so dizzy you almost fell over, then had to take a rest before you did the same thing all over again. Eddie never once complained about the pace but you could tell the sitting and waiting for you to be ready to move again was weighing on him. He would anxiously pace while you sat, or make an excuse about going to make sure the perimeter was clear and disappearing for 15 minutes at a time. The first leg of your trip he was standoffish and closed off but, ever since Max left, he’s been fully avoidant. Not wanting to get into situations where he would have time to stop and think.

Running away from silence and stillness like he had a bounty on his head.

When you ask again if he wants to talk about anything that happened in Memphis, he doesn’t snap. He barely responds at all. He sits there in the moonlight with one leg kicked out and the other bent up with his arms crossed on it. There’s a far off look in his eye despite his gaze being firmly settled on his boot. Dark shadows are cast along his features that make the circles under his eyes seem more sunken and his jawline more defined. A shadow of himself in the dark.

“Who’s Sally?”

The question catches you off guard, your legs crossing under you as you lean back against a dusty bookshelf in the dark room. “Sorry?”

“When we were leaving Louisville, you told–” His voice is soft and ragged – it catches on the word and he has to clear his throat to keep going. “You told Dustin to ‘get home safe to Sally.’ I didn’t know he was seeing anyone.”

You’re not able to contain the amused snort that forces itself out of your nose and you notice that the silhouette of his head whips toward you in response. Quick to explain, you tell him, “Sally is a German Shepherd. She lives on the farm with Dustin and Will.”

“Ah,” is his short response. You think maybe that will be the end of it but a few moments later he’s talking again. “His mom was a cat lady. He liked the cats, but I always kinda got the feeling he was a dog person. So that’s, uh… That’s nice to hear.”

“Yeah, he’s obsessed with her. Talked about her almost as much as you on the trip there.”

This makes him huff, a quick exhale of breath. You wish you could see his face – figure out if that was a good noise or a bad one. For not the first time, you find yourself wishing you knew what he was thinking.

“I had a cat for a little while.”

His confession has you suddenly on the edge of your seat and you struggle to rein yourself in. Try not to think about how excited it makes you to hear him let a little fact about himself like that slip free. Carefully, keeping your tone neutral like you’re trying not to spook a wild animal, you ask, “Oh yeah? What was their name?”

You’re surprised when he actually answers. “My uncle named her Mimzy. Stupid fuckin’ name,” he complains, though it comes out through a chuckle. “Then again, the cat was dumb as a brick so I guess the punishment fit the crime.” You spend a few moments considering if you should ask more questions to try to keep him talking but he does so on his own. “She lived under our trailer when I was in high school. Was just fur and bone when I started throwing scraps outside for her to eat. ‘Course she stuck around after that. Even though I was the one who started feeding her, she always preferred Wayne. Would rub all over his legs when he got back from the plant in the morning after ignoring me all night. Though she was a fan of mine for a while when I saved her dumbass while trying to fight a raccoon.”

Still not quite sure how to handle this situation in which Eddie is willingly talking about himself, you fall back on humor. “Trying to fight a raccoon is a rookie mistake. They have fully functioning fingers. A cat stands no chance.”

This time the huff he lets out is definitely amused and you find yourself warming under the approval. “I’m just glad she didn’t get rabies or something from the thing.”

While it feels a bit like pushing your luck, you take another metaphorical step closer by offering up some bits of your own. “We had a dog when I was a kid. Yappy little terrier named Lola.” He doesn’t move to interrupt you so you push your luck a little further. “I was always more of a cat person but my dad fucking hated them for some reason, so I was never allowed to have one.”

“Didn’t get one when you had the chance?” He asks, and it makes you hesitate.

Not sure if he forgot how young you were or if he meant something else, you are reluctant to remind him. Despite the worry that it's the wrong move, you still awkwardly answer. “Well, I was only 13 when everything went to shit. And they didn’t want animals on the base so… No.”

Silence falls like a blanket of thick snow. It feels fuzzy and heavy. You immediately try to figure out how you can reel the words back into your mouth, say literally anything else that would keep him talking. Keep the silence from creeping in like hands around your throat.

“I forgot,” he’s borderline whispering now and you can barely hear it over the buzzing in your ears. “Can’t imagine how fucked up it was to go through that as a kid.”

You shrug even though he can’t see it, feeling that captive piece of you starting to pace behind its bars again, looking for the first sign of weakness to lunge. “About as fucked as it was for everyone else, I guess.”

“Yeah… Guess so.” The moment sits heavy on you both before the sound of leather on polyester hisses in the empty air. There’s a lot of shuffling from his side of the room and you see the shadows of him settling down on his sleeping bag. You take that as your sign that he’s done talking.

A small part of you thinks about telling him goodnight. You decide to stop while you’re ahead.

The next 3 nights go similarly. When you’ve both found some abandoned place to sleep, he helps you change your bandages. Looks out for signs of it getting infected and lets you know if it seems to be healing or not. When your cobbled together sling gives out, he rips apart his white overshirt to make you a new one despite your protests that you can manage without. Once your arm is settled and you’ve both eaten at least a little bit of something, you start talking. Not much, maybe 15 minutes to half an hour. But those sacred minutes allow you to learn more little facts about Eddie. Never anything related to Memphis or life during the pandemic. It’s all things from before.

He had the same flannel shirt in 3 different colors because he just really liked how it looked on him. A part of him always wanted to get into fixing up motorcycles in his free time. He also used to enjoy drawing and playing fantasy games with his friends. He learned to play guitar when he was a kid from an old 6 string that his uncle had but never used. 90% of his tattoos were from before, only two being added to the mix over the last 13 years. Not for lack of wanting – more like lack of resources and not trusting those who had set up “shops” these days to do stick and pokes. On that note, his first two tattoos were stick and pokes he did himself in high school.

You drank all the information like sugar water for a fly – desperate to be filled even if it wasn’t the way you were hoping it would be. Even if it didn’t end anywhere, even if it didn’t help either of you. It was something.

In a world where everything felt like a luxury, vulnerability was the rarest among them.

Evening of August 23rd, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

The last hour or so of your hike through the middle of nowhere has been dirt roads and wooden fences that barely remain standing on the dusty roadsides. While you have questioned him once or twice, Eddie is determined that he knows exactly where he’s going. That he’s made this trip before, could do it blindfolded. And, with the sun quickly sinking toward the western horizon, all you can do is hope he’s right.

As you kick your way through orange dirt roads covered with rocks and tree limbs, the ruined fencing to your right starts to slowly be replaced with newer wood – better maintained and more sturdy. Further beyond, the wooden beams are replaced by a chain link fence that rises a foot or two above your head. This looks even newer, barely rusted and without any cuts or weak points. Despite being far from anything you would even attempt to call civilization, it seems that you are getting closer to something someone is caring for.

You don’t realize that you’re lagging behind, distracted and exhausted, until Eddie looks back over his shoulder. “We’re almost there, Bambi. Just a little farther.”

Not sure if he means to be encouraging or condescending, you decide to take the opportunity to talk again. Maybe if you can focus on that instead of your sore muscles and swollen arm, you can pass the rest of the time easily. “Y’know, calling me Bambi is kind of fucked up.”

He stops, slowly turning toward you with concern and confusion on his brow. He waits for you to catch up before continuing on with you in step. “How exactly is it fucked up?”

“Y’know, because both of my parents are dead now.”

He chokes on air, a hacking laugh forcing itself out of his throat. His eyes are shining with a certain mischief in them, one you haven’t seen since Memphis. “First of all, that’s so fucking dark, Bambi.” You blink at him a few times, not understanding exactly what he means. He continues on, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Second of all, I don’t know if you noticed, but a lot of people’s parents are dead.”

You scoff, shaking your head and looking back out to the road as you murmur, “Asshole.”

“Third of all,” he continues, ignoring your retort, “I’m pretty sure we started calling you Bambi because you’re going out into the world for the first time on your shaky legs; eyes wide and unsure. Not because your parents are dead.”

The realization hits you harshly, suddenly embarrassed for your own morbid assumption. “Oh,” is all you muster, teeth clenching as you try to shake off the fumble. “I am not on shaky legs. I’ve been in the world this whole time, same as everyone.”

“Sorry, but I don’t think your tall ivory walls of government protection count as ‘out in the world’.” He goads, almost sounding pleased with himself. Either not at all catching on to how the assertion frustrates you, or not caring that it does. “We didn’t all get our 3 square meals a day or access to clean water whenever we wanted it.”

The boil in your blood mounts higher – hotter than it’s ever been in his direction. While at the beginning of your journey, you’d been annoyed with his attitude toward you, this is entirely different. This is him taking a knife to where it hurts and twisting it just to watch you bleed. White hot blood you’re quick to spit back.

Your tone is barely contained fire and steam when you say a resolute, “Fuck. You.”

He looks almost like he wants to laugh until he glances in your direction and sees the look on your face. Subconsciously, he shifts another inch away from you, swallowing harshly as he stuffs his hands back into the pockets of his jacket. “Sore spot. Got it.”

The acknowledgement that his comments hurt you does little to smother the flames clawing up your throat, but you leash your tongue and use them to propel you forward instead. Settling into a tense silence that could last 5 minutes or an hour. It’s hard to tell with the rate the sun continues to sink down onto the horizon and the grasslands surrounding you remain unchanging.

Luckily, the fuming is interrupted by Eddie using his long legs to his advantage and crossing over in front of you to grasp at what you’ve just noticed is a gate in the chain link fence. He fights with the chain wrapping the gate closed for a few moments before he manages to prop it open far enough for you both to squeeze through. You pass first, crossing from a dirt road to what can only be described as worn down tire tracks in the grass. It arcs forward and toward the left, disappearing behind a small grove of trees.

“Is this it?” You ask over your shoulder, glancing back as Eddie once again wrangles the thick chain back into place. “Three Corners?”

“Yup, just up the drive.” He exhales a huff as soon as the chain is back in place. Looking at you with an emotion behind his eyes that you can’t determine, he clears his throat and sets into following the path again. “End of the road. For me, at least.”

The startling realization that this is the end of your journey with Eddie hits you unexpectedly. Twists your gut in a way it didn’t when the handoff happened with Dustin. That you had always known was temporary, a means to an end. Just like this was supposed to be.

When had you lost grasp on that?

Oblivious to your internal struggle, Eddie treks ahead, the call of a place to rest and get clean too enticing to let wait any longer. He’s already disappeared around the bend of the trees before you even catch sight of the property.

First, there’s a light blue walled barn, looking only a little bit worse for wear. More like seasoned in the Oklahoma winds. Two of its off-white, rolling doors are shut, the third opened to a room lined with what looks like workbenches – but it’s hard to tell exactly what in the growing shadows of dusk.

Second, you spot a house. One story, laid out wide rather than tall, and organized with mismatched windows and shutters. The walls are painted the same sky blue as the barn, with white trim and a beige slatted roof that is missing more than a few shingles. The roof extends over a small porch, just big enough to fit the door and 2 rocking chairs, and ends in a copper rooster that slowly rotates back and forth in the light wind.

The front door is wide open, presumably from Eddie, and shows only shadows of what is happening on the inside. You hover there in the open space in front of the house, not sure what to do, until you hear Eddie’s voice calling out.

“Hey! Anyone home?” He barely pauses before continuing, his voice getting closer as he goes. “Jeff? … Ama? … Anyone?”

He reappears from the shadows of the house, crossing back through the threshold with a sharp crease of concern between his eyebrows and his mouth set in a thin line. “Hey, you out here?” He continues, long legs carrying him to the barn next, where he once again disappears into the shadows you’re not yet brave enough to venture into. “Jeff? Ahuli?”

The sound of a creaky metal hinge rings out toward you in the open space, echoing out into the quickly darkening sky. Determining your hesitancy in this unknown space is less important than your desire to sit down, you suffer the last few steps to one of the rocking chairs on the porch, tossing your pack to the ground before throwing yourself onto the seat, almost falling backwards with the force of your exhaustion.

Eddie comes back out into the open, hands on his hips as he makes a slow circle to search around the area within view. Leaning forward on your elbows to contain the sudden urge to melt into the ground, you tilt your chin up toward him as he stops to face you. “Looks like no one's home.”

“Yeah, which…” He takes a few steps closer, dust coated face still wrinkled in concern. “They knew we were coming, maybe not this soon but… I don’t know where they would even go.”

“Maybe they left a note or something,” you suggest, wanting just a few minutes to sit and not worry about what was going to happen next. Wanting a few minutes to just rest. “Could look around the house or – maybe they said something to someone over the radio?”

His expression drops from worry to something that looks a bit like despair when he turns back toward the open workshop door. “I should… Let them know we’re here. Tell them what happened.”

But he doesn’t move an inch. Just stares at the steadily growing shadows of the empty barn. Like if he doesn’t go over there, he won’t have to say it. Won’t have to relive it and remember it.

This is something you can’t run from.

You push yourself to your feet, almost numb at this point of exhaustion, and walk past him toward the barn. Without looking back, you hear him get moving behind you, following you as you approach the structure and cross the threshold. Straw softens your step over concrete floors, making your footfall near silent as you venture further into the darkness.

Try to ignore the fear, shake off the urge to reach for your gun or your flashlight. You’re safe here, you’re safe here, you’re safe here–

A short sound comes from behind you and then the room is bathed in harsh white light, nearly blinding in its sudden appearance. You squeeze your eyes shut for a few moments before slowly blinking them back open.

Two of the walls of the room are fully lined with wooden table tops, drawers and random scraps littering the spaces beneath. It looks almost like some kind of machine workshop – drills, hammers, pliers, wiring, and more scattered across the wood between tools and small machines. Most of it you couldn’t even hope to recognize, but as you slowly turn to scan more of the space, you see Eddie approaching what definitely looks like a radio receiver. There are wires all over, some disappearing behind the workbench it sits on and others loosely arching toward the ceiling and through a cutout. Homemade antenna?

He flicks it to life with ease, a burst of static echoing out along the space before settling into a stable hum of sound. Lowering into a crouch, he has to get pretty close to the dial as he adjusts the frequency, like he can’t see the numbers well. You’re about to offer to help him when he drops his hand and straightens up with a groan.

It tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it. “Careful old man, or you’ll throw your back out.”

Bracing for him to lash back with something mean, you’re surprised when he snorts a laugh out of his nose, shaking his head lightly before throwing a glance back at you and saying, “Bite me.”

And maybe it’s the smirk on his face, or your exhaustion, or your life falling to pieces around you, but you somehow decide that the way you want to reply to that is, “When and where?”

This time he fully looks at you, eyebrows raised in utter surprise, his smile growing and shifting sideways as your face heats in embarrassment. “Yeah, Bambi?”

“Shut up,” you mutter to his teasing, dragging a tall stool across the straw floor to sit beside him. He is still looking at you, a sharp glint to his eye that makes you feel like a mouse being cornered by a cat. “Just radio in,” you try to order, but it comes out more like a plea.

“Whatever you say,” he concedes with a sly smile, pulling the receiver up to his mouth and pressing down on the button. The static hum cuts out as he says, “Hawk’s Nest, come in. I repeat, Hawk’s Nest, come in.”

The moment he lifts his finger, the static cuts back in. Neither of you move, almost not even breathing, as you wait for a response. Eddie, showing more impatience than you, tries again. “Hawk’s Nest, this is Crow, do you read me?”

When he releases the switch again, you dip slightly forward to look at his profile. “Crow? You have call signs?”

He groans, eyes rolling back into his head. “Yeah, and it’s all bird-themed shit. Blame your fucking sister.”

“Ah, Robin, figures.”

“Pain in my ass,” he reaffirms, but the small smile that remains on his face betrays him. He lifts the receiver again like he’s about to repeat when the static crackles a few times – waving between a very high and low pitch before a static tinted voice cuts in.

“Crow, this is Hawk’s Nest. Read you loud and clear.”

“Thank Christ,” he sighs out before pressing down the switch again. “Crow reporting package arrival at drop 3.”

Annoyance prickles at the base of your skull again, ready to snark back about not being a fucking package but the voice you still don’t recognize cuts back in. “Package arrival heard, will relay.”

He barely waits a second before jumping in again. “Drop 3 handoff incomplete, receiver not present. Any report?”

It all sounds so incredibly vague and short form – like if you didn’t know exactly what was going on you wouldn’t be able to make heads or tails of any of it. That’s probably the point actually, that anyone listening in would have almost no idea what they were talking about.

There’s some additional crackling, a longer pause before the voice cuts back in. “Nothing noted. Standby at drop 3, will report back at 1500 hours tomorrow.”

“Heard,” he confirms and releases the switch. You wonder if he’ll leave it there, not mention anything about Memphis or Max or any of it. It’s almost like he’s tempted to, because he looks over at you with a hard tension in his jaw. You’re not sure why, if there is something he wants you to say or do. If there is some kind of encouragement you could give him, some comfort you could provide.

Nothing feels right to say. So instead you heave a deep breath, wounded arm protesting as your chest expands, and exhale long. Whether consciously or not, Eddie mimics the motion, shoulders rising and falling as he exhales out through his mouth and then presses down on the switch again. “Hawk’s Nest, additional intel for the line.”

A few seconds of hum before the voice replies, “Ready for the line.”

From your point of view, you can see Eddie rest his free hand on the table top, head falling forward as his eyes squeeze closed. His lips twist in a grimace, head rocking back and forth a few times, before he brings the receiver back up to his mouth.

“Memphis QZ is gone. I repeat, Memphis QZ is gone.”

This time you do hold your breath while you wait – heart pounding in your ears loud enough to drown out the static hum as you stare into the black coated machine. The silence stretches on way too long, the longest pause you’ve heard since the conversation began. You almost have to inhale just to keep from passing out, lungs groaning in protest, before the two of you hear a reply.

“Heard, will relay. Status on Flycatcher?”

A sigh out of his nose before he replies. “Headed your way, arrival unknown.”

Another, shorter pause. “Heard, will relay. Standby for 1500 report. Over and out.”

He sets the receiver down with a heavy hand, raises the other to flick the radio back off. Both hands on the table again, he exhales shakily as he hangs his head.

You don’t move or say a word until he does. Allowing him that moment to collect himself, if nothing else.

Slowly, he rolls his shoulders back to his full height, posture squaring off as he takes a step back from the table.

“Come on,” he requests softly, “let’s go clean up, change your bandages. Get something to eat.”

You follow him out of the barn, light flicking off behind you, across the red tinted dirt circle between the barn and the house, and into the shadows within.

August 24th, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

Last night, Eddie showed you around a bit. They had an outdoor shower with a water heater, a working toilet and sinks, a small fridge, a wood stove. Electricity and hot water. And beds. Both of you would be able to get your own bed.

You’d awkwardly turned down his assistance on getting clean, insisting you’d be really careful with your arm. He let you go first – when you re-emerged from the wooden enclosure of the shower, there was a little bundle of clean clothes waiting for you. By the time you got inside, there was a small (but warm) meal prepared. He was already halfway done with his, and when he finished, he insisted on changing your bandages again despite your reassurance you could do it.

After making sure you were clean, bandaged, and fed, he told you where you could find a bed and went out to take his own shower. You washed the dishes as well as you could with one fully functioning hand and tucked yourself into bed before he even came back inside.

This domesticity felt unnerving. His care felt unnatural. It was different from the apartment in Memphis. This was the home of a family of four, with kids toys and art and pictures and everything. And, despite it only being the two of you, Eddie watching out for you, taking care of you, putting you first… It was overwhelming and uncomfortable and felt unsafe.

Somehow, laying alone in the dark child’s room, in clothes that weren’t yours and in the silence. It was worse than anything.

You couldn’t fall asleep until you heard Eddie come back inside and close the door to the room beside you.

When you wake up, there’s sunlight coming in through the opaque curtains, a soft yellow cast across the homemade quilt you had pulled up to your ears. As you slowly shift it down to your waist, dust starts to kick up and dance along the beams into the room. Making the blues and greens of the bedding and the child-drawn artwork look almost pastel. And while part of it was comforting, imagining a kid who still got to have a room like this – live a life like this – there were a lot of other feelings that came up. Feelings you weren’t ready to face this early in the morning.

Instead, you get up and get dressed to go find some water.

Your door is barely open an inch before you hear something going on in the kitchen, the scrap of wood against metal and the clink of a glass. Not sure if maybe the homeowners had returned while you were out, and you were now about to meet them, you walk as quietly as you can to the end of the hallway that leads to the rest of the house.

The only person you can see is Eddie with his back to you.

He’s standing in front of the wood stove in a tank top and sweatpants, bare feet on the uneven tile flooring, long hair down and haphazardly placed on either side of his shoulders. The scars along his arms are on show, allowing you a better glance as you slowly approach from behind. His right arm isn’t too bad, a vague slash mark here or there, along with a couple of black ink tattoos scattered across the skin. There’s a healed over bullet graze at the top of his right bicep, the skin indented and slightly puckered pink. Probably somewhat similar to how your own arm will heal.

His left has larger patches of scar tissue, a big section on his forearm and a few other spots as it goes up his arm. They almost look like burn scars – the skin damaged and discolored but healed over. It’s the same texture of the scar on his side you saw last week, also on the left. He must’ve been in some kind of accident with flames or maybe some kind of chemical. 

You wonder if he’d tell you what it was if you asked.

The closer you get, you can see there’s some small bowls on the counter beside him and one of them is stacked high with brown spotted eggs. He has a cast iron pan over the crackling fire and scraping at the yellow liquid inside it to scramble them.

Without otherwise announcing yourself, you ask him, “Are these fresh eggs?”

He nearly screams, wooden spatula going flying and almost losing the pan too as he jumps away from you. “Jesus Christ, Bambi,” he gasps, running a hand through his hair before dropping it on his heaving sternum, “Are you trying to scare me to death?”

“No,” but your mischievous smile heavily implies you’re not exactly upset about the outcome. “Where’d you get the eggs?”

He glares at you while shuffling back to the front of the stove. He still sounds a little out of breath when he replies, “Ama has a henhouse out back, takes care of them. Tries to keep them out of the garden.” He points toward another wooden bowl that has 2 small pears, some leaves of lettuce, and a single shoot of green onion.

“Holy shit.” The fresh, home grown food nearly brings tears to your eyes – brushing past his back to take one of the small, green pears and hold it up in the sunlight to examine it. “I mean the food, the animals, the water, the electricity… How do they keep it all going out here?”

“The reservation was already making attempts to be self-sustainable before the pandemic hit. Their own power grid, water collection, the works.” He continues to cook while he explains, scraping the bottom of the cast iron to keep the eggs from sticking as he watches it carefully. “After everything went to shit, they fast tracked it. Jeff and Ama were living in the city and moved back to her parents' place to help them. Her folks died a couple years ago so then it was just them and their two kids. Jeff is a mechanical engineer and Ama is a fuckin’ genius in general so they made this into the best compound someone could ask for in an apocalypse.”

Looking over the house, you couldn’t help but agree. The stable fencing, communication, their own food and water. Depending on how they sourced the power, they could probably stay out here for who knows how long and the only thing they might need to worry about is bandits. Even then, there’s not much around. A bandit group would have to be really lost to end up here.

“That’s… amazing. I honestly didn’t think it was possible to still be living like this. Anywhere.”

But then again, I thought that about Memphis too.

He hums an agreement as he scrapes the eggs out of the pan and onto two plates. “Yeah. I know they are still in touch with other families around. Maybe they are out helping one of them with something.” He nudges his elbow against your arm, pointing for you to grab the other bowl of greens and bring it over to the table with him. “There was a ton of feed in the henhouse, like they prepped to be gone for a little while.”

You follow his lead in setting the bowls on the circular table in the center of the room before taking a seat to his right. “Well that’s a good sign, isn’t it? That they were prepared to not be here?”

He hums as he settles into his chair, the wood groaning as he leans too far back in it. “I guess so. I just hope Will has something to tell us at noon.”

Laying out a piece of lettuce, he makes a sort of egg wrap with bits of green onion before taking a bite right out of his pear. “So Hawk’s Nest, that’s Will? He mans the radios out on the farm with Dustin?”

“Mhmm,” he confirms as he finishes chewing, eyes locked on his plate like he doesn’t know where to go next. “With Sally, apparently.”

Long fingers wrap around his wrap and bring it up to his mouth with a crunch, so you pick up a fork and start to spear into your own warm eggs. Unseasoned but still warm and fresh. A hundred times better than the powdered egg stuff they made back at Quantico. Even just having a warm meal settles you in a way you hadn’t anticipated, relaxing further into your seat as your eyes close.

When you open them again, you’re struck by the sight of Eddie. The sun coasts in through an uncurtained window – bathing him and the table in bright morning light. His slightly frizzy hair, greys visible, is pulled to one side, showing off the length of his neck and the broadness of his shoulders. The scruff along his jaw has only gotten thicker, salt and pepper across weathered skin, almost enough to hide the scar on his chin. There’s a tattoo of a dragon along his bicep, a slashed scar of white right through its abdomen, and a swarm of bats on his forearm. His hands are clean, maybe cleaner than you’ve ever seen them and you find yourself thinking that he looks good like this.

This is a different person from the Eddie you first met. The wolf in denim and leather who is intimidating, unapproachable, someone you wouldn’t want to get in a fight with. With the sharp glares beneath aviators and sharper remarks against anything you had to say. This is a man who has seen terrible things – done terrible things – and now gets to rest. A safe place where he can just live. Not be constantly fighting to survive.

If only he would sit around long enough to enjoy it.

The two of you finish your breakfast and clean up the dishes. Eddie roots through closets and cupboards until he finds a jacket that will fit you (since they tore yours apart to make a sling), a corduroy coat in a forest green that probably wouldn’t stand up well in the elements but keeps you warm nonetheless. He helps you slide it up one arm and hang it over your other shoulder. Your arm is still in your makeshift sling at his request, insisting it would be better to take it off in another day or two.

After that, he explains he’s going to go check the trap line Jeff normally has set up, see if there is anything caught so the two of you might be able to eat some fresh meat tonight. You offer to go with him, to try to help, but he’s quick to deny.

While he says something about your arm and wanting you to rest since it’s still healing, you get the feeling he just wants to be alone for a while. So you watch him re-emerge from one of the bedrooms down the hall in his jeans, boots, red and black tie dye shirt, and his leather jacket before walking out the door with a promise to be back before 3pm for Will’s call.

Leaving you to your own devices.

At first you snoop around the house, trying to bide time. Walk the walls like an art gallery – seeing old and faded photos of families, women in calico tear dresses and men in their ribbon shirts. Newer photos of people gathered in churches, an older man and his three kids all climbing on a pasture gate. 

Closer to the fridge, there is a set of three polaroid photos. The top is a family of four sitting on the porch of this house, a man and a woman sitting on the steps with a boy and a girl posing between them. The boy is older, looks almost 7, and the girl looks about 5, with his black pigtail braids draped over her shoulders. The other two are each centered on one of the kids; a shot of the boy with a stripe of grease on his cheek and holding some kind of contraption in his palms with a huge smile, the name ‘Ahuli’ written in cursive underneath, and a shot of the girl sitting on top of the father’s shoulders, her hair wild and windswept as she appears to scream out with laughter, the name ‘Tay’ written in cursive beneath.

This must be Jeff, Ama, and their kids. All living out here on this land. These were kids born after everything fell apart. A family created in utter tragedy. There’s something bittersweet about it all. These kids… This is the only world they know. A world ravaged by man eating man and fungus that takes over your body, pilots your muscles and tendons, and leaves you aware. Cities were destroyed and millions of people died and society collapsed. They don’t even really know it. They’ve probably been told, at least some of it. But they don’t have any idea of what it was before – don’t have anything to miss. This is what they have, have always had. A safe home with a happy family.

The chained creature roars in agony, jaws snapping at the bars like it will tear free and take out its anger on them, on their happiness. Roars for you to grab the polaroids and tear them to pieces, to destroy, to light fire to it all. Burn it to the ground.

You go for a walk.

Slip on your boots with some difficulty and just start walking. Past the outdoor shower, the light clucking of the henhouse behind, and out into the grass beyond. Going until you reach the edge of the fence line and then follow along it, looking out for anything that catches the eye. There are a few horses grazing on the property, a single cow with its calf in the acres beyond the fence. Birds flit by overhead and the drying grass shifts as small creatures scurry far away from you.

You’re not sure how long you walk but the sun beats down, along your shoulders and a sweat breaks out. The breeze keeps you from being miserable but you’re still definitely getting sunburnt along your cheekbones. You’d think after days and days of walking, you’d want to do anything but that. But this feels different. It’s peaceful and relaxing. You’re not on edge, listening to every sound and searching for any sign that something or someone is coming after you. Somehow, your body has gotten the message that you are safe (for the most part) within this chain link fence, allowing some portion of your guard down. So you walk and listen to the birds without constantly looking over your shoulder.

Somewhere toward the back acreage, you intercept Eddie on his way back to the house with a string connecting two dead animals hung over his shoulder. He looks surprised to see you but gives an awkward little wave, waiting along the fence until you get there. “Dinner?” You ask, free hand stuck in the pocket of your coat as you look over the furry animals hanging from him, one on his front and one on his back.

“Dinner,” he confirms with a small smile, adjusting the line holding the animals together before you set off back toward the house together. “I can skin ‘em easy enough, and make sure they’re cooked through, but can’t guarantee it’ll taste very good.”

“If you skin them, I can cook them. While I was snooping around the house, I found some bone broth and other stuff. Should be able to make something edible at least.”

His head tilts toward you, eyebrows raised slightly. “You know how to cook?”

“Yup,” you keep your eyes forward, across the waving prairie grass and toward the outcropping of trees that hides the house and barn. “My mom taught me. She used to work in the mess hall on the base.”

He audibly swallows beside you, a nervous pause before he asks, “When, uh… How long ago did she… pass?”

“Eight years, I think. 2008ish. I think it was summer.” Your voice remains surprisingly steady as you explain. “I still don’t even really know what happened. My dad just came home one day and told me she was gone. I was 17, old enough to be more aware of stuff, but it still felt like he was protecting me from something.” You kick at a stone that caught the tip of your toe in the tall grass, eyes on your dusty boots. “Guess now I’ll never know.”

You cross another 15 feet or so before he replies. “One of the shittier parts of keeping secrets. Once you’re gone, they’re gone too.”

You huff a small laugh, gazing ahead at the trees as you continue to inch closer. “He says as a man overflowing with secrets.”

“There’s a difference between not knowing someone and being ‘filled with’ secrets,” he points out, almost defensively.

“Oh yeah,” you roll your eyes, “because you’re an open book.”

He quiets down again, the silence growing more tense than before. When you finally glance over, you see him looking straight ahead, a muscle in his jaw rolling with tension. Despite your desire to say something else and lessen the sudden distance between you, you decide to let him sit in that. Stew in it even. Like maybe if you reflect that mirror right back at him, he’ll see something.

Maybe something will change for him. Even if you’re not going to be around to see it.

The rest of the walk is quiet as you pass back through the treeline. You follow Eddie into the barn, where he disappears through a door into the other half before reappearing sans animal carcases. The two of you settle in front of the radio again.

Will comes through at 3pm sharp with almost no news. No reply from Colorado about Memphis. No news about Jeff. The only thing he is able to tell you is that he will have more for you at 1300 tomorrow and he lets you know Max arrived at the farm early this morning, unharmed. It’s all in code, but you’re able to get the gist of it. When the radio clicks off, Eddie’s frustration boils over. He kicks hard at a metal can sitting on the ground, the side caving in before it goes sailing out the open door and bounces across the dirt drive of the house. You watch it roll to a stop before looking over at him, one hand on his hip and the other over his mouth as he stares at the object, the sun reflecting off the coating in a glare.

“I’m gonna go skin the animals.”

The door slams shut behind him.

You stare at the closed door for a few minutes before getting off the stool and heading back inside the house.

When you wake up on the couch a few hours later, the sun is even further toward the west. The light no longer shines into the windows of the front room, leaving it much darker than it had been when you and Eddie ate breakfast this morning. Rolling up to sit, you stretch overhead with one arm and a yawn before glaring down at the sling keeping your other arm captive. You’re well past tired of the limitation now and slip it over your head, tossing the fabric to the other end of the couch.

Extending your arm, there’s still some pain and discomfort, but as long as you don’t bring your arms above your head or lift too heavy with your bad arm, you’ll be fine without the sling. It is well past time you were able to use both hands again.

The heavy glance from Eddie when he slips back inside implies he disagrees, but it seems not enough to say anything.

Heavy footfall breaks up the silence until aluminum hits tile. “They’re cleaned. Are you still willing to cook?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Padding across the room in your socks, you step right up next to him to peer into the container. Trying to ignore the way he shifts his shoulder back to make room for you at the counter. Tilting your head toward him, you’re closer than you thought when you add, “Thank you for doing that.”

He looks surprised by the proximity too – brown eyes even just a little bit wider as he scans your face. You can see the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down in a hard swallow. The words sound a bit caught in his throat when he replies, “Sure, no problem.”

Although he looks nervous, maybe even uncomfortable, with how close the two of you are standing, he still makes no effort to move away. Neither do you, although you do lower your face to look over the meat before you in an attempt to ease some of the tension.

If you didn’t know any better, the warmth to your side makes you think he drifted even closer when you stopped looking.

Softly, entirely too intimate compared to the standoffish man who slammed the door behind him mere hours ago, he asks, “Do you want help cooking? Or can I go take a shower before we eat?”

“Go shower.” He doesn’t move an inch. “Oh, actually,” you twist and your noses almost knock together, causing both of you to jerk back in shock. What in the hell is happening right now?

“Could you…” Your voice is unsteady, a bit breathless. “Would you light the stove before you go? I’ve never used one like this before.”

The corner of his mouth tilts up in a small smile before he drops down to his knees right there beside you. Steady hands reach in toward the wood burning stove as you avert your eyes, shifting out of his space and over toward the cabinets you scoped out earlier. Overwhelmed by his quick change in attitude, you busy yourself in preparation until he pushes himself up with a groan.

Seeking some normalcy, you sigh louder than necessary. “Sorry, shouldn’t have asked you to do that. Old knees and all.”

He huffs a laugh, hair shifting while he shakes his head in your periphery. “Careful, Bambi, or I’ll have to give you a taste of what these knees can do.”

A laugh bursts out of you before you can contain it, turning toward him again. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

His eyes narrow playfully, a hand raising in an accusatory point. “Better hope you never find out.” Raising your hands in surrender, you turn back to the counter before he offers one more, “Anything else before I go?”

“Nope, all good here. Thanks.”

He dips his head in acknowledgment before leaving you to your cooking.

As the door clicks shut behind him, you find yourself wondering which Eddie will he be when he gets back.

Evening of August 24th, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

The chirp of crickets is nearly deafening out on the dusty porch now that the sun has sunk below the horizon. It echoes through the circular clearing of the drive – ricocheting off of thick foliage and the aluminum siding of the barn in a chorus of hissing. A cacophony of noise that drowns out everything but the creak of the rocking chair while it slowly shifts beneath you.

A knit blanket, softened with age, is draped across your lap, frayed edges rolling between your fingertips as you look out over the darkening landscape. The wind has softened from earlier today, meaning you don’t really need the blanket to combat the cold itself. But there’s something about curling up on the porch with a blanket that feels so… Novelty. Comforting.

Another thing you never thought you’d be able to do again.

Dinner with Eddie had been… Strange. He wasn’t quite the tease from when he brought back in the meat, but also wasn’t the grump you left in the barn. Somewhere in between – or maybe something else entirely.

His mood appeared to be wildly shifting by the hour and left you feeling unsure in how to act. While dinner itself had gone relatively easily, you couldn’t help being uneasy by what the next shift might bring.

After eating, he’d insisted on cleaning up. You didn’t fight him on it and made yourself scarce. Found your current blanket, bundled it up into your arms to keep it from dragging across the ground, and made your way to your current spot in the rapidly darkening dusk air. Taking a little while to breathe in fresh air and do your best to reach some sort of relaxed state.

You don’t get anywhere close before the metal hinge of the door behind you creaks open to announce your companion’s arrival.

“I come bearing gifts.”

A cool, glass bottle of liquid is set in your lap – two long fingers releasing either side of the neck before retreating out of view again. Twisting it toward you, you recognize the label of the familiar liquor.

“Where did you get this?”

Eddie drops into the rocking chair beside you with a sigh while he sets a flickering candle on the floor between you both before moving to untwist the top off his own bottle. “A lady does not reveal her secrets,” he murmurs before lifting the bottle to his lips and taking three long swigs. He hisses in through his teeth as it lowers, face contorting in a sort of pleasured pain before falling slack. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Curious if the label is true to the contents, you’re quick to follow - popping the top and bringing the cool glass mouth up to your lips in a more cautious sip than Eddie’s gulps. Sure enough, the liquor is strong and sharp as the burn invades your mouth before sliding down your throat. You groan slightly, not sure if it’s a good thing or not, as you lower the bottle again.

“That’s strong,” you cough slightly, face pulled back in a grimace. “Haven’t had any real shit in a long, long time.”

“Yeah, well.” He glances over at you, brown eyes warm and bright in the dancing flame between you, as the corner of his mouth tips up in a small smile. “Don’t get used to it, Bambi.”

“You sure they won’t miss these?” You ask him, curiously. Despite the burn, you bring the bottle up to your lips again, seeking the numbness that is sure to follow.

He takes another long chug, releasing his mouth with another hiss. “I stashed ‘em here. Guess I should feel lucky they didn’t drink them.”

“Guess so.”

Silence falls again. Or, what can be considered silence beyond the buzz of insects in the dark. You both continue to silently nurse your bottles – you more gently than him – as the red hues of the sun disappear into the navy blue blanket of stars.

When you glance over at Eddie, he has his head hanging back, the base of his skull resting on the back of the rocking chair, baring his throat to the night. He looks exhausted but at rest. Like the alcohol is finally lulling him into some semblance of ease. His legs are splayed wide with the bottle resting between them, hands loosely resting on his thighs. The salt and pepper scruff on his jaw grown thicker than when you’d first met him and his hair pulled back haphazardly.

It’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen him. Completely unguarded. Even with you right there beside him.

Which makes him breaking the silence first even more terrifying.

“I think I owe you an apology.”

You try not to tense too much in response, looking over at him again. His head is still facing up but his eyes are open now, trained on the stars above you both.

While you can think of a few things, you’re still unsure exactly what he might be referring to. “I feel like I might regret asking this but, for what?”

His hands shift in his lap, tensing into fists before relaxing again. Shoulders rising and falling in a heaving sigh, his eyes pinch closed again. “I haven’t exactly treated you fairly since we met. I…” He trails off, head slowly lulling forward to glance at you before sticking to the ground before him. He clears his throat before continuing again. “Your dad and I never liked each other very much, for a lot of reasons. The biggest one being how he treated Rob.”

You can’t help but cut him off there, confusion apparently in your face. “What do you mean how he treated Robin?”

Eyes shifting over to you nervously, he takes another swig before explaining. “I’m sure you know the story - your dad and Rob’s mom had her really young, didn’t know what they were doing, all that. You probably heard the sugarcoated version but your dad just kinda up and left them. Didn’t really call, definitely didn’t visit. Moved on… Started a new family.”

Your heart burns then, sorrow and guilt pulling you in different directions. A new family – your family. 

“Robin never blamed you, or your mom for that matter. She’s never had anything but good things to say about you.” He’s quick to add, making minimal eye contact with you as he continues to explain. “But I did. I was real protective of Rob around the time your dad came back around wanting to make amends. I remember how much it hurt her. And I think a part of me always blamed you for that.”

Definitely not what you were expecting, you don’t say another word, waiting to see if he’ll keep going. It’s a bit painful; knowing he disliked you for something that couldn’t have possibly been your fault. Almost like he hated you just for being born.

“Anyway, that wasn’t cool or fair of me. The fault was always with your dad and his choices. So… I’m sorry.”

While the sentiment is appreciated, it’s still hard to swallow. You counteract the choking feeling it leaves in your throat with another sip of hard liquor.

“Thanks for telling me.” You offer softly. While you might not be ready to forgive him or even to accept it, you’re still at least grateful to understand a little better why your relationship had seemed doomed from the start.

His chest rumbles in a hum of acknowledgment, turning his attention to his bottle again. You let that hang in the air for a little longer before you speak up again. “What were some of the other reasons?” You ask curiously, looking anywhere but his face. He mumbles a ‘huh?’, urging you to clarify. “You said there were a lot of reasons you and him didn’t like each other. What else?”

You see him grapple with the question, rolling it around in his mouth as he figures out how to chew it. The liquor has definitely loosened him, mentally and physically. Maybe you shouldn’t press for more info like this but… Maybe this is your only chance.

“He tracked me down a few years ago. 2011, I think. It was a week after… After my Uncle Wayne died.” His voice is thick with emotion now, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration as he remembers it. “He asked me to help him with something – something big. But I… We argued. Barely held back from punching him square in the jaw a couple times. He said a lot of shit about ‘expecting more from me’ as if he knew me at all,” he let out a bitter chuckle, his head shaking slightly.

“I was in a lot of pain,” he admits, slightly choked up. You’re shocked still, not sure how to handle this turn of events. Should I comfort him? Let him talk through it? Ask more questions? “I told him to go fuck himself and he called me a selfish bastard. And we kept our distance from each other after that. I’m sure he’s probably rolling in his grave right now knowing I’m one of the people escorting you around.” A huff of a laugh at that, bringing the bottle back up to his lips before his eyes widen and glance your direction. “Sorry.”

You swallow around the lump in your throat. “No, uh… Don’t worry about it.”

Suddenly feeling yourself scramble for something else to say or some way to keep the conversation going, you put your foot right in your mouth by asking, “What happened to your Uncle Wayne?”

He looks at you, shock and maybe even offense clear on his face, and you wince as you kick yourself mentally. What kind of question is that? What the fuck do you think happened to him, idiot –

“Cancer, actually.”

Not sure if you’re more shocked by that response or the fact that he actually answered, you focus in on his face now to make sure he knows he has your attention.

“He worked in a factory for years and years before everything fell apart and smoked a shit ton. Lungs started giving out a couple years after everything fell apart. Coughing blood, wheezin’, the whole thing. Wasn’t really much anyone could do, everything being like it is.” 

He pauses to take another long gulp of liquor, the points of his cheekbones tinged pink with it. Or maybe emotion, it’s hard to tell in the candlelight. “Did everything we could but he, uh… Decided he was ready. Said he didn’t wanna wait around for the day he tried to take a breath and couldn’t. So I helped him out to a church in a small town that’d already been picked clean. Held his hand while he said his prayers. Gave him a hug. Gave him a pistol.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, Eddie’s gaze far off. Reliving the moments in his head. “Went outside and shut the doors. Waited… waited until the shot went off.” His hand harshly clasps over his mouth as he leans forward, nearly knocking the bottle to the floor as he leans his face away. You can still see the reflection of the tears escaping his eyes.

The softest whisper you can muster, you twist your fists in the blanket in your lap. “Eddie… I’m so sorry.”

His face pinches tight, tears spilling out of his closed eyes, as he shakes off the feeling and rights himself again. “Better end than most people get nowadays,” he admits, voice rough and dismissive. “Least he got to decide on his own terms. Not everybody gets that chance.”

Pained by his dismissal but accepting this is how he needs it to be, you give a solemn nod. After Memphis, you’ve learned your lesson about pushing him.

“Haven’t talked about that in a long time,” he adds with an embarrassed laugh, rubbing his scruff with the palm of his hand. And while there are still tears in his eyes, he looks a little bit lighter. A little bit more free. Your mind flashes to the church in Memphis – Eddie staring up at the missing head of Jesus in reverence, a pistol strapped to his belt.

Searching for something.

You tip forward, the chair creaking as you rest your feet on the ground below you. He looks over at the noise, watching as you lift your bottle towards his in an offering.

“To doing things on your own terms,” you toast quietly, a small smile on your face.

He blinks at you a few times before a small smile tugs at his own face again. Eventually, the bottom edge of his bottle gently clinks against your own.

“To doing things on your own terms.”

August 25th, 2016 – Three Corners, Cherokee Nation, Oklahoma

It’s with a lot of difficulty that you blink your eyes open from a dead sleep – heavy lids and crusty corners protesting the smallest movement. Warmth surrounds you, coaxing you back to rest and away from the headache that is already starting to appear behind your eyes. It must be very early based on the blue toned light that comes in through the window, which you’re not even conscious enough to realize is not in the same spot as it was yesterday.

Barely aware of anything other than how comfortable you are right now and how much you have to pee, you groan softly before attempting to move.

You freeze up when there’s an answering groan from behind you and the weight around your waist tightens to pull you back in.

Shocked fully awake now, you take stock of your surroundings. You’re in a bed you’ve never seen before. There’s a half empty bottle of liquor on the floor beside you. Your pants are gone. And there’s a tattooed forearm wrapped tightly around your torso, belonging to the warm body lining your back. Hot air coasts along the back of your shoulders, the slightest hint of scruff on your skin, and the rhythmic rise and fall of his sleeping chest.

You’re in bed with Eddie. And you don’t remember how you got here.

Heart starting to pound in your chest, you try to calm yourself from spiraling with questions, many of them starting and ending with why am I not wearing pants–

He shifts behind you and you hold your breath, waiting to see if he’s waking up. You remember he drank a lot more than you so, with any luck, you’ll be able to extract yourself from this situation before anything too horribly awkward happens. When he falls still again, curled tight to the back of you, you cycle through your options.

First and worst, make a scene. Scramble out of the bed, shouting and hiding the fact that you’re half undressed, and mortify both of you in the process. Absolutely not.

Second, try to slowly and carefully remove yourself from his hold. Maybe you could replace yourself with a pillow or something, give him something else to hold onto. Or maybe just remove yourself and make a break for the door, hoping he doesn’t wake up in the 5 seconds between and realize what happened.

Third, accept this is your life now. After all, it’s really comfortable. He’s warm and holding you tight – comforting and safe. Feeling his breath across the back of your neck. You feel like you could drift right off again if not for the slight pressure of something against your lower back…

You need to get up. Now.

Like you’re the worst secret agent navigating the worst bank vault ever seen, you somehow manage to extract yourself from Eddie’s surprisingly tight grip. He moans in disapproval but remains asleep, bringing a pillow in to tuck against his chest in a poor replacement. If it wasn’t for the nearly empty bottle on his bedside table, this surely would’ve gone a whole lot worse.

Taking a few moments to admire his sleeping form in the early morning light – the crows feets beside his eyes only noticeable as tan lines, the harshly indented wrinkles between his brows smoothed over – you rush out of the room when he adjusts again just in case he’s waking up.

You make a pit stop in the room you stayed in the previous night, grabbing a pair of pants from the piles of clothes on the floor, and lock yourself in the bathroom.

After a quick wee, you appraise yourself in the mirror. Your hair is a mess. As messy as it normally gets with sleep, you tell yourself. You don’t have any hickies or other noticeable signs of something less “friendly” happening. In fact, it really just feels like you had the best sleep you’ve had in years, not including the rapidly progressing hangover you’re experiencing now. Still, you think back to last night, trying to remember how you might have ended up in Eddie’s bed.

After he told you about Wayne, the two of you ended up reminiscing on other people you’d both lost along the way. Your school friends, his band mates (other than Jeff), both your parents, a few of the friends he made in high school. A little bit of pondering where you both would be now if the world hadn’t gone to shit. He talked a little bit about Memphis and what he’d lost, which you listened to intently. Then… Nothing.

Resting a hand against your forehead as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you’re terrified to realize you can’t remember what happened between the two of you sitting on the porch and when you woke up in his arms this morning.

What the hell did you do?

-

-

-

-

i bet you thought you'd seen the last of me!!!!! well guess what!!!! you haven't.

i obviously went a lot longer than i wanted before updating this but i have never, ever stopped thinking about it. i still have it all fleshed out in my head and i will finish it if it kills me. i appreciate your patience in the meantime.

and let me know what you think!! comments and reblogs mean the world <3

#happy birthday gods favorite princess #this one is for you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson series #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #Old Heart #myos ideas #myo4munson

[rosesandoranges90]

Dead island 2 Slayers x Vampire Reader

(You have been a vampire since 1749. You left *your birth place* to the USA back in 1973 but been living in Los Angeles since 2016.You have gone used to being alone for decades after all of your family and friends died,so you go and work one of your odd jobs and stack up on blood:from hospitals to blood banks.This was your life until it wasn’t…zombies was everywhere and was ripping into anything that was not one of them.You had a clear advantage from humans with your super strength and speed, ability to turn into a bat,float and fly and that you don’t need food,water and sleep to live but you need blood and getting blood from humans without harming them was now limited,making animal blood the only option for now. On one faithful night,you were getting supplies from a grocery store and you were in desperate need of blood when you found the jackpot:A pack of chicken breast soaking in blood.You immediately poked a hole in the package and started to drink the blood with your fangs out,In the middle of your feeding,you heard a gasp and whipped your head around & you were face to face with a survivor.Oh no….)

AMY

•Stood there for only five seconds and made a bolt for the door but you immediately caught her

•”NO!NO!PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!”, “I promise I’m not going to hurt you,but I need you to be quiet okay?”

•After agreeing to stay quiet because of zombies,you get what you guys needed and run out(with you of course beating the Paralympian)

•The next night,she comes back with some ground beef soaked in blood as a peace offering,you did the same with canned fruit and you two have been close since.

•Is amazed by your super speed and you help her improve on her skills.

•She asks about your life before the apocalypse and you do the same.

•On some nights you let her ride on your back and run all around HELL-A;all while she laughing and is have a great time.

RYAN

•Starts running without hesitation and you caught him instantaneous.

•”I’M NOT A V*RGIN,I SWEAR!” “What?No,ew..You was being loud. “…oh”.

•You help what you thought was a real firefighter to get as much stuff you guys needed and bolted.

•The next night,he told you that he was actually a stripper and you laughed your ass off,with him following suit and that how you guys met.

•You show him painting of men back in the 1700s and he laughed his ass off.

•He hacks zombie heads with his fire axe while you search for more supplies.

• You show him turning yourself into a bat and pick him up like it’s nothing,You two do it almost every night.

BRUNO

•Was white as a sheet but didn’t make a run for it

•”Are you…..a vampire?” “Yes and I’m not going to harm you (crosses heart) I promise.

•You guys left the store after looting it for it’s remaining value.

•He actually came back with a pack of cookies as a thank you for helping him and not killing him.You welcomed him into your hiding spot and the rest is history.

•You two purposely confuse each other :His Gen Z slang and the ancient version of your first language.

•You tell him stories on how you hustle some rich folks back in the day and he be writing them down for future reference.

•One of each other best memories together when you fly over the city with Bruno on your back so he can see his Hometown in this breathtaking view.

CARLA

•Almost vomited but stopped herself

•”Ew,què carajo?! why are doing that?!” “Because I’m a vampire.” “Oh…..FUCKING A!!!”

•You two leave with the best stuff in HELL-A.

•The next night; she came by you on her bike, offering to give you a ride to wherever you were going as a thank you for helping her and you two have been stuck like glue.

•You two take turns bench pressing each other,saying to the other that they weight less then a feather.

•Have to leave the room when you’re about to feed so you don’t make her sick,knowing she’s a vegetarian.

•Is still amazed by your super strength and with you two still walking and talking,these zombies don’t stand a chance!

JACOB

•He just stood there unfazed

•”Don’t be a fool for the Devil,darling. *chuckles* “ (awkward silence and cue the two of you wheezing)

•When you two was finally done laughing,you two parted ways with your supplies.

•You found him on a rooftop one night and invited you for a smoke and that’s you two story on how you two met.

•You two share each other scar stories all the time (even if it’s the same scars over and over again)

•You two also shares your fondest memories about each other moms,showing each other photos,jewelry and makeup.

•Always and I am ALWAYS makes vampire jokes,puns and quotes when he given the opportunity.At first it was annoying but now it’s endearing to you and only you.

DANI

•Immediately pulled out a shotgun

•”How do I know your not allies with those feckers out there?!” “I would of already alerted them when I first saw you.You see any running towards you?” “No,I guess not,Besides I don’t have silver bullets.”

•You two left without saying another word to each other

•You two saw each other again the other night and you both punched a hole into a zombie head at the same time.You two shook hands and that’s that.

•You two show each other photos of your hairstyles and colors though out the years.

•You have rescued her at times by turning into a bat and flying her to safety.

•Dani teaches you how to roller skate at your free time.you have are shit many times but you’re now getting a hang of it now thanks to her!

#dead island 2 #dead island 2 carla #dead island 2 bruno #dead island 2 amy #dead island 2 dani #dead island 2 jacob #dead island 2 ryan #dead island 2 x reader #dead island 2 headcanons #vampire reader

[ao3feed-itafushi]

The Universes I Travel for You

by itagumis After a bloody and unmerciful battle, The King of Curses and all his terror has finally come to an end. However, for Itadori Yuuji his next line of suffering had just begun as Fushiguro Megumi perishes on the battlefield. Stricken with grief and guilt, Yuuji makes a binding vow with an ancient curse to allow him to travel through different universes in search of the one where Megumi is alive. The task becomes harder than it seems as their fates were originally lined up to never cross. But Yuuji won't accept defeat. He is willing to cross through a million universes in hopes of fulfilling his promise of saving Megumi. Words: 7512, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Itadori Yuuji, Fushiguro Megumi Relationships: Fushiguro Megumi/Itadori Yuuji Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, this is like a mash of AUs, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Hurt, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, Fluff, mentions of domestic violence, Character Death, Itadori Yuuji Needs a Hug, Fushiguro Megumi Needs a Hug, tags to be updated from AO3 works tagged 'Fushiguro Megumi/Itadori Yuuji' https://ift.tt/JaGrUIs

#IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic #itafushi #itadori yuuji #fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #fushiita

[angxliquel]

Random Hcs I have of the main four (this applies to the books)

Jack:

Lactose Intolerant

Has a small gap between his front teeth

Would be the kind of guy to wear dino slippers in the morning

Knows the first half of three different songs on the piano (Just the first half)

Can wiggle his ears?? somehow??

Would go on shopping trips with Rover and come back with like a gazillion different squeaky toys, mainly cause Rover tore through each of them in a minute

Can rollerskate but can't iceskate for shit

I know he was picked up by the hoodie by King Wretch in book three, but I imagine that if he'd been picked up by the shoulders, he'd have some claw marks there.

Quint:

Used to collect scratch and sniff stickers

Sleeps so god damn still you'd think he's dead. I'm talking arms crossed over his chest and everything

Allergic to strawberries

Has a few not-too-serious burn scars up and down his arms, thanks to some experiments gone wrong

Played the flute in Varsity Band before the Apocalypse. He'll bring it out every once in a while on the gang's karaoke nights.

Good at sketching monsters and other things because he used to do it with animals before the apocalypse

Knows bird calls

June:

HATES chocolate

Grew up on Nancy Drew

Her hair is actually slightly curly, she just straightened it before the apocalypse, and now she doesn't

Her stares can kill (mostly likely)

One time, the fabric lining within Blasty somehow ripped, causing the metal to scrape against the top of her hand. She has a pretty big scar there now. Her hands are really fucked up 😭 her palms are absolutely littered with cuts from gone wrong spear sharpening sessions

Can do the splits

Writes songs, but mostly ends up scrapping them

Dirk:

His pupils are slightly dilated, and his eyes are a little grey due to being half zombie

Actually has a lot of freckles that come out in the sun

VERY prone to sunburns

Loves the Mall Cop Movies

The mowhalk was an impulsive choice in sixth grade. Probably saw some guy in a magazine with it and thought it looked cool. (I know Book Six says otherwise but hush)

Coin collector

The gang decorated his helmet with all kinds of stuff. He appreciates it a lot

Undefeated bowling champ

On a totally unrelated note, I'm trying to do a voice headcannons thing for the main four in the books (cause I imagine they have different voices than in the shows) but MY LORD. I can't find a voice that suits Dirk anywhere 💀

#Angst? Never heard of her #the last kids on earth #tlkoe #jack sullivan #june del toro #dirk savage #quint baker

[whatlurksbean]

Do you have any other projects or comic ideas when you finish WLB? Or plan on continuing the story until it feels done?

Oh so many!

WLB has an ending, im unsure how long it will take to reach it though! Before it ends, id like to continue working on and finish Stone Hearts.

And I have a mini comic Im working on privately that will be posted when it’s fully complete.

After WLB ends, i likely will begin production on my comic Curse of the Living, ive posted a bit about it on deviantart. It’s a zombie apocalypse romance story that takes place in a magic world (same world as stone hearts actually but it’s humans not animals)

I also have a comic called Blackbird Crossing which is about two men who travel dimensions and fall in love.

I have my eyes set on romance stories for the time being, and I prefer to write romance with humanoids so unfortunately the animal comics may take a back seat. But I do have ideas for comics about wolves, lions, meerkats, and all sorts of little guys, so it wont be goodbye to my fuzzy friends forever

#answers #dont get me wrong romance can work wonderfully in animal comics also #but i wanna make them kiss #perhaps even hold hands

[ciaossu-imagines]

Hello, hello, my lovelies! Since I've gotten zero bites for asks for my other non-KHR/K fandoms, I'm going to host a little special event before my box reopens (after I finish writing fic and have posts done for all my fandoms) and I have another big event! So, this is how it's going to work!

I have exactly 42 fandoms, if I'm counting right. Below you'll find all 42 fandoms listed. Under those fandoms, you'll find a list of 42 AU's. I'll accept 1 request per fandom and one request per AU. For example, if someone requests KHR and mermaids, for example, I'll cross out both KHR and Mermaids and neither the fandom nor the AU can be requested for anymore. It's first come, first serve and I'll do my best to keep the lists up-to-date with requests. This event will close when all prompts and fandoms are taken. You can just request a fandom or you can request a specific character or group of characters from the fandom and you can request a reader insert character as well. YOU CANNOT REQUEST SCENARIO OR HEADCANONS OR HOW EXACTLY THE PROMPT WILL BE WRITTEN OR INTERPRETED, UNLESS STATED. That will be left up to the admin and what ideas I have, honestly. Any questions, feel free to inbox me! Without further ado!

FANDOMS

KHR

K PROJECT

NANBAKA

WELCOME TO DEMON SCHOOL, IRUMA-KUN!

BUNGOU STRAY DOGS

SERVAMP

SAIYUKI

MYSTIC MESSENGER

IKEREV

EYESHIELD 21

THE OUTSIDERS

RONIN WARRIORS

KEKKAISHI

GETBACKERS

BLUSH BLUSH

CLASS OF THE TITANS

DISNEY'S ULTIMATE SPIDER-MAN

DOGS: BULLETS & CARNAGE

BLACK CAT

HUNTER X HUNTER

KARNEVAL

THE ROYAL TUTOR

GANGSTA.

PSYCHO-PASS

THE MIGHTY DUCKS

THE COVENANT

DATE WARP

SEDUCE ME THE OTOME

POWER RANGERS MYSTIC FORCE

POWER RANGERS JUNGLE FURY

POWER RANGER NINJA STORM

BLEACH

NARUTO

HARRY POTTER

AO NO EXORCIST

OURAN HIGH SCHOOL HOST CLUB

DEADMAN WONDERLAND

DURARARA!!!

SKY HIGH

HOLES

YU YU HAKUSHO

GINTAMA

AU'S

ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE

COFFEE SHOP

ROYALTY

BOARDING SCHOOL

HOGWARTS

SOULMATE (YOUR CHOICE OR LEAVE IT TO ADMIN)

VAMPIRE

WEREWOLVES

AMNESIA

ANGELS & DEMONS

ANIMAL SHELTER

DETECTIVES/BUDDY COPS

SUPERNATURAL DETECTIVE

PARANORMAL

ARRANGED MARRIAGE

RETAIL WORKERS

PARAMEDICS/DOCTORS/NURSES

MODERN DAY

SENT TO THE PAST/SET IN ANOTHER DECADE (YOUR CHOICE OR LEAVE IT TO ADMIN)

ASSASSINS/NINJAS

SUPER SPIES

AVATAR THE LAST AIRBENDER

CHILDHOOD/ELEMENTARY SCHOOL (YOUR CHOICE)

HIGH SCHOOL

OLD AGE HOME/RETIREMENT COMMUNITY

PERCY JACKSON

BABYSITTER

BATTLE ROYALE/HUNGER GAMES

PRISON

PIRATE

CIRCUS/FREAKSHOW

DELIVERY PERSON

FAIRY TALES

PRETEND DATING

HAUNTED HOUSE

HAREM/REVERSE HAREM

MERMAID

MASTER/SLAVE

HOST CLUB

MAFIA

MAGICAL GIRL/BOY

DUNGEONS & DRAGONS

#mini event #au's #please read the rules #underloved fandoms always appreciated #nanbaka #bungou stray dogs #mairimashita! iruma kun #servamp #saiyuki #mystic messenger #ikerev #eyeshield 21 #the outsiders #ronin warriors #kekkaishi #getbackers #blush blush #class of the titans #disney's ultimate spider man #black cat manga #karneval #the royal tutor #gangsta. #psycho-pass #the mighty ducks #the covenant #power rangers #bleach #naruto #harry potter

[crackedpumpkin]

guys. It's time. CRH is reaching its finale, and besides Bad News and Cherry Blossoms, I'm ready to bring on more fics.

You however!!! Get to decide which one through our combined love for pressing buttons :D

I'll be doing these fics in order of votes, so the most popular one will be posted first, etc.(you catch my drift?)

However! If you're here for any of my other fandom posts, there is another poll I've set up -> HERE.

You can vote for the next fic as well, also by order of votes for which goes up first/is completed :)

Other fandoms include: Miles Morales, Ninjago, Danny Phantom, Haikyuu.

Here's the Lowdown + Explanation for each one:

Zombie Apocalypse AU! Rise Leo x Reader

Warnings: Includes mentions of death, and graphic descriptions of both gore and violence. Angst, Fluff.

Example drabbles can be found in this order -> HERE! & -> HERE! & -> HERE!

You didn't know how it started. One minute you're out and about with friends, and the next moment the nationwide alarm sounds. Sirens blare, people scream, and you flee.

Now, you're a lone wolf, looking out purely for yourself and taking down any Zombie that tries to harm you. You're alone, just how you like it.

But when a fateful encounter with a turtle wearing a blue bandanna changes your outlook on your new life, you begin to think that being alone might not be as great as you once thought.

Human Disguise! 12 Leo x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Slightly Aged Up! Turtles, Friends to Lovers

Theft isn't always right.

But in this instance, Leo's willing to do it as many times as it takes, all to catch the bus with you at the same time everyday.

Luckily, Donnie has just the tool for that, a watch that would allow him to disguise himself as a human.

All he has to do is make sure you don't ever find out.

Your Name AU! X Female! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Time Travel, Body Swapping, Fluff, HEAVY ANGST.

Inspired by the anime movie with the same title

Mutagen is the base of how all mutants are created, its unknown properties managing to bring to life both miracles and nightmares.

It's almost like magic.

But it doesn't explain how Leo wakes up in the body of someone else.

You're just a girl living in the countryside, the daughter of an influential polititian, and a shrine maiden in training.

You're tired of life and everything it throws at you, not to mention the best friend you're slowly falling in love with, whom has eyes for someone else. So, in a moment of anger and frustration, you curse at the goddess you're supposed to praise and worship instead.

And in return, you wake up in a mutant turtle's body.

Rise Leo! X Genie Reader

Warnings: Aged Up! Turtles, History Things, Fluff, Friends to Lovers.

Being one of the most mythical (and extremely rare) species on the earth has both its perks and disadvantages.

Pro? You're worshipped heavily, many of your previous summoners too frightened to cross you.

Con? Some of them are horrible and abusive, so you decided to use loopholes to ensure their uncontrollable greed would never make the light of day.

As such, you disappear back into your lamp to nap for a couple thousand years, waking up with a yawn to a baffled group of turtle yokai.

And it's just your luck that the cutest one happens to be your summoner.

Star Crossed Lovers! 12 Leo x Reader

Warnings: Addresses Discrimination, Fluff, Angst, Fluff, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Violence and Gore.

Inspo can be found -> HERE!

"We shouldn't be doing this." You murmur, slipping your hand out of his. However, before your hand leaves his grasp completely, he grabs it gently.

"We don't have to be like them. To confine ourselves to the rules they've set."

"But, your position... You can't be seen with a human, or the rest of the Yokai would riot." Your eyes water, and you swallow a sniffle that threatens to give away the tears that start to trail down your cheeks.

"I don't care about the rest of them. You're the only one whose opinion matters to me."

#rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #leo x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #tmnt #tmnt x reader #tmnt leo x reader #2012 leo x reader #polls #tmnt polls #rottmnt polls

[videogames-i-wish-were-real]

Videogames I wish were real #44

A videogame where characters from a certain genre are dropped into a videogame of a completely different genre where their skills, knowledge and personality turn out to be very useful (or because they could simply use a break). One level is a magical girl in a zombie apocalypse battling zombies with sparkles and rainbows. Another level is a detective straight out of a typical noire visual novel dropped into a charming farming game where he has to figure out how to stop the big evil corporation from taking over the town. Or a level that is a hack and slash game were you play as the chef from a cooking game. There could be a level where the main character of gritty game full of violence and political intrigue ending up in an animal crossing type of game where they get to enjoy a peaceful life, watering flowers, catching bugs and chatting with their neighbors. The most stressful choices they have to make are about interior design and they've never been happier.

Feel free to comment/reply with other combinations of characters and genres that would pair surprisingly well!

#viwwr #videogames i wish were real #videogames #video games #animal crossing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #prompts #writing prompts #farming game #magical girls #zombie games #hack and slash games #concepts #game design

[virusinfected-memes]

AU PROMPTS FOR AU AUGUST ;

It’s August, that means it’s time for more AUs. Send a number for an AU, dynamic, or trope that will be used to write either a drabble or starter. Send 💫 for a random number instead. You’re welcome to send multiple in one ask to combine them.

POPULAR PROMPTS.

001. aristocrat au  002. assassin au  003. bakery au  004. band / musician au 005. coffee shop au 006. college au 007. cyberpunk au 008. dark fantasy / grimdark au 009. dystopian au 010. high fantasy au 011. historical au 012. monster (vampire, werewolf, etc.) au 013. murder mystery au 014. paranormal au 015. pirate au 016. roommate au 017. royalty au 018. superhero / supervillain au 019. time travel au 020. zombie / undead apocalypse au

LESS POPULAR PROMPTS.

021. alien invasion au 022. circus / performer au 023. deserted island au 024. host (alien, parasite, etc.) au 025. host club au 026. imaginary friend au 027. mad scientist au 028. mmorpg / virtual world au 029. no humans au 030. penpal au 031. podcaster au 032. private investigator au 033. role reversal au 034. influencer / streamer au 035. space opera au 036. street racing au 037. treasure hunter au 038. underground fighting au 039. urban fantasy au 040. writer au

FANDOM CROSSOVER PROMPTS.

041. Alice in Wonderland 042. Among Us 043. Animal Crossing 044. Assassin’s Creed 045. Avatar: the Last Airbender 046. Battle Royale / Squid Game 047. Beauty and the Beast 048. Dead By Daylight 049. Dragon Age 050. Dungeons and Dragons 051. Mass Effect 052. Peter Pan 053. Phantom of the Opera 054. Pokémon 055. Scooby Doo 056. Silent Hill 057. Stardew Valley 058. Stranger Things 059. Studio Ghibli (any film) 060. The Lost Boys

POPULAR TROPES.

061. bad guy won’t die 062. break the cutie 063. conjuring evil 064. dead cell phone 065. deal with the devil 066. everything is a simulation 067. false friend 068. final boy / girl 069. fire-forged friends 070. found family 071. found footage 072. hidden in plain sight 073. idealist vs. pragmatist 074. library full of secret knowledge 075. nightmare on Halloween 076. secret heir to the throne 077. the chosen one 078. the powerful artifact 079. the reluctant hero 080. the world that never progresses

LESS POPULAR TROPES.

081. aw, look! they really do love each other! 082. awesome, but impractical 083. bad guys doing good things 084. blessed with suck 085. condensation clue 086. dark is not always evil 087. dead all along 088. eviler than thou 089. false chosen one 090. genius bruiser 091. genius ditz 092. golden hero to anti-hero 093. good people with evil powers 094. light is not always good 095. mood whiplash 096. nature’s revenge 097. really 700 years old 098. villain is actually the hero 099. you are number six 100. you can’t fight fate

SHIP TROPES.

101. afraid to commit 102. bet / dared to date 103. dating app 104. drunk / Vegas wedding 105. enemies to lovers 106. fairytale retelling 107. fake relationship 108. fated mates / soulmates 109. forbidden love 110. friends to lovers 111. grumpy person with sunny person 112. holiday fling 113. love at first sight 114. marriage before romance 115. marriage pact 116. playboy / girl in love 117. right person, wrong time 118. secret admirer / unrequited love 119. there’s only one bed 120. work rivals

#ask meme #inbox meme #roleplay meme #rp meme #writing prompts #send a #* mine

[manorinthewoods]

Here's a take on the zombie apocalypse.

It just... doesn't happen.

The military successfully fends off the zombies. The protagonists are in the military and government and have to make sure the zombie apocalypse doesn't destroy society, escape the country, etc. Thankfully, zombies follow most of the standard tropes, which means they are stunningly incompetent and therefore the apocalypse is not a big issue. What is the issue is the politics of the situation. Anti-masker equivalents, power-hungry politicians, incompetent generals - all sorts of crap.

But maybe add a bit more creativity. Remove some of the standard zombie flaws; for instance, the zombies will (in an idea I thefted from another post), instead of moaning, try to speak, but only produce garbled syllables, words, and phrases. They lose most of their intelligence but are smarter in a horde, they require very little sustenance, can slowly heal injuries, go into torpor when critically injured and regenerate faster in this state, and they look more-or-less like humans so they tug on the heartstrings.

These zombies would still have a good number of weaknesses (cleared weaknesses crossed out):

Slow speed, can be outpaced with brisk walk (These zombies aren't fast.)

Constant noise alerts any prey (probably they are not constantly rambling)

Main food source is also primary predator and only source of reproduction (Let's say these zombies can consume and zombify wild animals. That will make them an enormous threat, actually! I dunno about clearing this weakness, my zombies are already superpowered.)

Extreme temperatures in summer or winter will clear zombies (The torpor state would clear this risk. This is one of the major issues; if there's nothing done with the zombies to prevent this, the zombie apocalypse probably wouldn't survive a year or something. Also, anywhere up north would probably see all the zombies die.)

Zombies will constantly injure themselves (Regenerating zombies clears this risk. If zombies cannot regenerate, they *definitely* will not survive a year.)

Numerous quantity of natural predators, including flies which will infest their tissues with maggots (If zombies are internally decaying, any old wild animal could probably rip them to shreds. Also, bye-bye eyes.)

Cannot damage armored or airborne vehicles (Short of giving zombies magic spells, this will remain a severe risk. The #1 weapon for dealing with zombies is a tank. No, the guts won't tangle the treads.)

Moans alert all enemies in the area and convey very little information to other zombies (The garbled gibberish will at first not be a sign, but as cities are evacuated it will become more noticeable, especially if efforts to discern what is being said by local survivors reveal that it is garbage noise.)

No problem solving skills; zombies cannot open doors, perform any tasks involving complex dexterity (even simply throwing objects), cannot use any sort of tactics and simply beeline for potential prey (Zombies are dumb. They will remain dumb and thus will be easily manageable. A simple chokepoint will be enough to slaughter a horde. Also, since they're slow, you could probably destroy large quantities of them with artillery - although with torpor added into the mix you'd still need to properly clear the field afterward.)

Zombies are exclusively melee combatants (Again, one chokepoint and the horde's dead. With a steady supply of ammunition - possibly requiring international aid if ammo factories are abandoned - zombies can be pretty easily defeated. They are known for being weak to guns and there is one major thing militaries have a lot of.)

Cannot take shelter from storms (Minor, but after a severe storm there probably wouldn't be as many zombies around.)

Conclusion: Zombies gon' get wrecked by any competence.

#zombies #ideas #zombie apocalypse #long post under read more

[ridiasfangirlings]

gaming tournament/game night non au homra vs scepter 4

This is definitely one of those post-ROK alliance bonding things, they decide to have a ‘friendly’ gaming night together (Munakata suggests they set up in Bar Homra and Kusanagi refuses because he knows full well this will not be friendly and he’s not subjecting his bar to this kind of mayhem). Imagine Munakata and Anna have been discussing ways to smooth over tensions between their clans, now that the Slate is gone they both think it would be best if they all lay their differences aside and start to get along more, especially since S4 is as busy as ever and having Homra to assist would be beneficial. Munakata naturally thinks about a game night first but he probably thinks of it a more low tech way, like what if we play mahjong and Candyland and do puzzles. Yata happens to be in the bar and overhears, snorting that only old guys play those kinds of games. Munakata is immediately intrigued and asks what manner of games Yata prefers, Yata is totally taken aback at having the Blue King suddenly all up in his personal space and he sputters out ‘y-you know, like video games…and stuff…’. Munakata’s glasses shine as he makes a note of this.

The next day Homra receives an invitation for a ‘fun and friendly game night,’ where they will all play video games to their heart’s content and engage in heart-pumping rivalry with S4. The Homra guys think it’s weird but also they’re all for it, Bandou is totally ready to finally get to shine. Kusanagi thinks it’s nice to see the boys so hyped, even if he’s not entirely sure that this whole thing is a good idea. Munakata’s chosen some kind of neutral ground, like an old unused government building that Fushimi gets to spend all week re-wiring so that they have the best wi-fi in the city. The S4 boys are more mixed on this idea than Homra, both because the more mature members of the squad are not exactly skilled in gaming (Enomoto is surprisingly pumped though, now it is his time to become the strongest glasses character at last) but also because they all have developed a deep seated level of anxiety whenever Captain mentions the word ‘bonding.’

Munakata does set everything up nicely though, he gets several gaming systems (imagine Bandou and Enomoto both fanboying over all these ancient game systems that Munakata somehow found, like this goes for thousands online where did you find it and Munakata is just smiling and sparkling. Enomoto feels sorry for the requisitions and budgeting departments) and there’s lots of comfy seats and refreshments. Anna’s come along as well and they all expect her to enjoy some calming games, like Benzai and Fujishima have already developed a wordless bond over Animal Crossing and Yata tries to steer her in that direction. Instead both Anna and Munakata end up playing some kind of super violent and bloody zombie apocalypse FPS, both very intent on the screen in wordless camaraderie, and the Homra alphabet boys quietly agree not to tell Kusanagi about what his little girl has been playing. Yata and Fushimi find some old game they played in middle school and Yata challenges Fushimi to a game, soon they’re yelling and trash talking at each other and the other Homra guys are throwing popcorn at Yata telling him to keep it down. Bandou and Enomoto immediately recognize each other as a comrade and eventually they decide to combine forces, together taking down everyone else in some melee-type game. Enomoto is even willing to recognize Bandou as a fellow glasses character despite the sunglasses, like an unexpected bond has now been formed and Munakata is very proud his bonding plan worked.

#k project #Talking K #imagine Anna and Munakata playing the most scandalous game #all blood and guts and shooting #Anna with a perfectly flat expression and Munakata with a mild pleasant smile #it's scarier than the game

[pinkeoni]

What is "Filler?"

I'm ignoring my many school obligations to make a post about something that I'm very passionate about and has been on my mind for a while.

A discussion I've seen around television lately, especially sparked in the case of The Last of Us, is the use of "filler" in television, or at least, what people perceive as filler.

As someone who is highly interested in television writing, and one day hopes to be apart of a writers room, I have a lot of strong opinions regarding the idea of "filler," why people have the wrong idea of what filler actually is, and why "filler" might actually good for television, and part of what makes television, television.

Filler is an anime specific term

For starters, filler is a term that originated with anime. But specifically, it's a term used to describe any arc that isn't in the manga. This was most prolifically used in the Naruto anime. While the anime was waiting for more issues of the manga to come out, they would quite literally fill time by using non-canon filler episodes. Filler got a bad rep due to the low visual and narrative quality compared to canon material.

Of course, the term has been bastardized outside of its original definition to simply mean any television episodes that people deem "unimportant" to what they consider to be the main plot of the series, and given the negative history surrounding filler, any episodes like this are therefore seen as bad.

Character is Plot

The reason why people may perceive an episode as being "filler" is because it may include a plot that is not pushing the main storyline forward. I saw a tweet recently about The Last of Us episode 7 and how this episode is perceived as filler, therefore bad. The episode includes backstory for the character Ellie, which steers away from the present story at hand.

Here's the thing though, the episode was important to the development of Ellie's character and revealing more of her motives. In the present plot line, we see how determined she is to help Joel after he is injured, and the show uses a backstory to show us exactly why Ellie is so determined to save the people that she loves.

Plot is driven by character. Characters are developed through their actions. Any stories used to develop character is not "filler," it's part of the plot.

To hammer in my point I'll use a show that is pretty widely regarded: Avatar the Last Airbender. The main storyline, people would argue, involves Avatar Aang learning to bend the four elements to defeat the Firelord. Now, let's imagine ATLA without any of the episodes that would be considered "filler"— that means no "The Beach," no "Tales of Ba Sing Se," no "The Puppet Master," none of some of the most iconic episodes of the series. But I know what you're thinking, all of those episodes are important to the story! That's because they are! There isn't any big action moments in these episodes, at least in terms of the plot of taking down the Fire Lord, but they all push the development of the characters forward and thus are very important episodes.

Theme is Plot

Let’s look at another example from The Last of Us, episode 3.

This episode got a lot of flack for the same reasons listed above (although some people are also just homophobic) because it was an episode that “took away from the main plot of the series.”

What is TLOU about? It’s a show about a man who brings a girl cross country during the zombie apocalypse to find a cure, but more than importantly, it’s a show about saving the people that you love. That’s the main plot. We see this with Joel and Ellie, we see this with Henry and Sam, and we see this Bill and Frank. Each of these plot lines help reinforce this theme as well as flesh out the world. It’s not a “filler” episode because it reinforces the main theme of the show, thus is does have “plot”relevance.

Why Has Television Structure Changed So Drastically?

The answer is streaming and the rise of binge model.

That isn’t to say that ~13 episodes and fewer seasons didn’t exist before the advent of streaming, nor did episodic series cease to exist once the binge model rose to popularity. However, the binge model is absolutely to blame for the rise in shorter and shorter seasons with hardly any standalone episodes becoming more popular.

Basically, binge model television is written with the idea that the audience member is going to be consuming the entire season in one go, and weekly episode structure is written with the idea in mind that the audience member may only be consuming a little bit of the larger story once a week. Thus, binge model television seasons tend to feel more like longer movies, while episodes in weekly television shows feel much more individualized.

For me personally, I greatly prefer the weekly model. The reason being is because it forces the individual episode to be stronger. It can’t rely on the episodes before or after it to make it good, it has to stand on it’s own two legs and tell it’s own contained and compelling story, even if its still part of an overarcing story.

Do I think binge model is all bad? No, not necessarily, I think it works great for some shows, but can also become a hinderance for others.

My blog is pretty much a Stranger Things blog, so I’ll use it as an example. In my opinion, the first season of ST is perfectly written. It’s the perfect number of episodes at the perfect length for what it wanted to achieve. There are no loose ends, everything is tied together, and there's still a little wiggle room for extra seasons. If there had been an extra episode that told a standalone story, it would have broken up the flow of the season.

The subsequent seasons of the show attempt to use a similar episode format, all while simultaneously wanting to build the scope and stakes of the story as well as increase the number of characters. The side effect of this, which is especially apparent in season 3, is that the show began to feel cramped and the story and characters barely have any room to breathe. The action is constantly moving and the appropriate story beats are all there, but with the wide breadth of characters that needed to fit into the season, a lot of them end up feeling sidelined or undeveloped in order to squeeze everything in.

But I don't necessarily think the answer is just longer episodes, either. This is what season 4 of the show did to remedy the congestion of the previous season, but the issue became that the episodes felt bloated and the story beats become way too stretched out. An easy example is the Russia subplot, which took way too long in order for its story beats to play out.

Am I saying that Stranger Things needs to completely change, and become a 20 episode season with filler? No. The answer is complicated, while I do feel the story is cramped, I still understand that there is still intention behind these writing choices, and the story would be different from what it is now if the episode structure was different. I also don't want it to seem like I'm trying to claim that I myself am a better writer and that I would be able to do a better job myself. I just can’t help but wonder if the attitude towards insistence of keeping with the “main plot” of the story which may have worked in one season of the show ended up becoming a hinderance in later seasons.

Conclusive Thoughts

There’s more I could say on this topic and many more examples that I could bring up, but I’ll just leave my thoughts with this.

“Filler” is not necessarily bad. Any episode can be poorly written, but just because it doesn’t have A-plot relevance doesn’t mean it’s bad.

Most “filler” actually isn’t filler at all.

Anything that develops character has plot relevance.

Anything that develops theme has plot relevance.

Some of the best episodes of television would be considered “filler” in this new binge climate.

More television shows (not all, but some) could actually benefit from having episodes that would be considered “filler.”

What makes television so special and such a great storytelling medium is the ability to be told in a serialization of smaller stories, something that should not be lost with the binge model.

#the last of us #stranger things #avatar the last airbender #tv posting #robin stink pieces #byler #<- target audience #normal people wondering why im tagging byler #making this because i am so TIRED of seeing people use the word filler incorrectly #thats not filler! #thats an episode of television! #i feel like theres a lot more i want to say but ive had this in the drafts for awhile so i might as well just post it #netflix #hbo

[topazy]

Inside, outside

Pairing: 10k x reader, Addy Carver x sister reader

Warnings: Swearing, Z deaths

Chapter: 4.08

A sigh passes your lips while studying 10k’s emotionless facial expression as he listens to Doc and Sarge sing a song about getting high on weed. It made you sad because a couple of years ago he would have joined in, but now? Not many things seemed to make him laugh or smile the way he used to.

“Here we are, officially in cannabis country,” Sarge says once she stops singing.

Murphy exchanges an unimpressed glance with you before shaking his head. “Oh, my god. Oh, those aren’t pot leaves, dear. They’re maple leaves. Those are Canadian flags.”

A look of confusion crosses her face. “Oh, Canada. I thought it would be... different.”

“The zombie apocalypse definitely takes the charm out of the place,” you smile, thinking of the last time you were in Canada. “It’s usually cleaner.”

Murphy snorted at your sarcastic tone. The Canadian border looked as if someone had emptied a skip full of trash onto it. Despite the mess, the place seemed oddly quiet.

“You’ve been here before?” Sarge asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“My grandmother lived in Toronto. We used to fly out and see her.” You turn back to address the rest of your group, “How far away do you think we are now?”

“Newmerica is probably less than two days' drive now,” Doc confirms.

The same night your group almost killed Zuggalo’s Warren, you decided that it was time to head to Newmerica before anyone else died. She blamed herself for Lucy’s death. You tried to tell her it wasn’t, but she wasn’t ready to hear that just yet.

“Barring any unforeseen zombie action. Saying that, we haven’t seen any dead for a couple of days now.”

You elbow Sarge in the arm and frown, “Don’t say things like that. You’ll jinx us.”

Doc looks over to Warren and says, “What do you say, Chief? Are we doing this?”

Murphy butts in before Warren has the chance to reply, “She’s not that chief anymore; she said so herself.”

“Shut up, Murphy.”

Warren glances at Murphy; the pain in her eyes is obvious. She clears her throat and answers, “We were doing this.”

10k comes up behind you and rests his head on your shoulder. “This kind of seems too good to be true.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean, kid,” Doc says. “I remember when Newmerica used to be California.”

Murphy gives the older man a death stare. “Yeah, well, I’m back to believing in nobody but myself. I'm still alive, and I keep going.”

“You’re like a cockroach that way.”

You roll your eyes at the faint snarling sound that is getting closer. You turn your head and kiss 10k on the cheek before pulling your knife from its sheath. You step into view of a pathway leading onto a forest walk and throw your knife. It lands on the head of a Z. You reach for your gun to shoot the one beside it, but Doc shoots it in the head.

“More is coming in from all sides!” 10k announces before firing to his right.

It became clear that a lot of the people who worked at the park’s information center had never left.

—

Before being outnumbered by a large horde, Doc led you all into a church to take shelter.

Catching your breath, you slumped against the wall. The only sounds you could hear were your own heartbeat and zombies trying to break in. Once your breathing had normalized, you started to walk further into the church but froze when you heard what sounded like an animal giggling.

“What’s-”

You spin around fast and press your finger to your lips before pointing upwards towards the staircase. You let Sarge and Warren overtake you so they could lead the way. Truthfully, you were glad; you didn’t want to be anywhere. You followed in silence until you reached the top of the staircase, where a small horde of zombified nuns were gathered.

“Oh shit.”

“Zombie mother of god.”

You never enjoyed killing Zs, but killing in a church turned your stomach. You had to remind yourself that showing them mercy was the kindest thing you could do.

—

You raise your brows while watching as Murphy takes a drink of holy water, then splashes it on his face while Doc freaks out about being in a church. He said it was giving him flashbacks to the Catholic school he went to. “We’re already in hell, Doc,” Murphy says harshly. “We can only go up from here.”

“Hmm, you can only go up if you stop lying,” you say quietly.

“Pfft,” he scoffs. “I’ve lied about nothing. Not today anyway.”

“You keep blathering about only caring and believing in yourself, again like you used to. Just admit it.” You say it in a slightly teasing tone.

“Admit what?” He snaps.

“You’ve always cared about us.”

“Nonsense! I hate you all.”

10k stifles a laugh. His eye met yours, and a brief smile crept onto his face before Murphy sulked off to the other side of the room. For a moment, you see the sweet boy you first met. Your heart ached at the memory of how happy he once was and how much light radiated from him even when the world was in darkness.

You reach your hand out for his, and 10k links his fingers with yours with a grin on his face. He blows on a few dark locks that fall in front of his face, “You really need a haircut.”

“I’ll cut yours if you cut mine,” he jokes playfully as he pulls on the end of your hair.

You turn your attention to Warren, who looks deflated. “We’ve got Zs on one side of the building, and now we’ve got mad Zs on the other side.”

This was bad. All the food and water were left in the van outside, and now Warren was sharing that she didn’t know what her dreams—the dreams that had caused you to follow her instead of heading straight to Newmerica meant nothing.

“Only if we could see inside your head.”

“He could do it,” 10k says. “Murphy’s pretty good at getting inside people’s heads.”

The room suddenly becomes more intense, and you try your best to ignore it and look directly at Murphy. “Warren’s got your blood in her; could it work?”

He shrugs, “she did…”

“Worth a shot, isn’t it?”

Reluctantly, he agrees, “Fine, but if this goes wrong, I’m not getting the blame.”

—

You are staring up at a stained glass window admiring it when you feel a hand resting on your hip. “What are you staring at?”

“The colorful window. I always thought churches had a special type of beauty to them.”

10k looks surprised. “I wish I could take a look inside your head sometimes.”

“You wouldn’t find much.”

“I’m being serious,” he says, tightening his grip. “You find beauty in most places. I wish I could.”

Both of you turn to face the door closest to you, as it opens slightly at the bottom before jamming. Fuck. The wooden panels weren’t going to hold for much longer. You rush to find anything heavy to place in front of the door.

You notice Sarge and Doc going in the opposite direction. 10k goes after them, “I’ll check it out.”

You struggled to push some smaller wooden furniture in front of the door that covered the bottom half of it. Luckily, there were still some nails and hammers in an abandoned toolbox. You're about to start hammering a nail into a panel when the church bells start to ring.

At first, you thought it was an accident, but when the ringing didn’t stop, you knew someone was trying to attract the dead. You follow the noise and reach the end of a hallway just as 10k, Sarge, and Doc burst open a door, and Doc tackles the person ringing the bells to the ground.

You look down at the staircase when you hear a loud crash. “The Z’s have gotten through!”

You rush down the staircase and see Warren and Murphy fighting off the Zs that have gotten through. You use the hammer to show mercy, just as Sarge and 10k come to join you.

Sarge manages to hold Z's back with her machine gun while the rest of you block off the hole in the wall. When it was safer, Doc brought the bell ringer down to be questioned.

He revealed his name was Louis, and he had a bag full of different religious icons that he’d taken from dead bodies. You didn’t know if Louis was crazy or on drugs since he was talking in riddles until he was pressed into making sense by Sarge pointing a gun at his head. “Have any of you ever heard of Saint Teresa of Aurea?”

You nod. “They say her touch could heal the sick.” You sigh and kneel in front of him and start to untie the ropes binding him to the chair. “You do whatever you want, aside from getting us killed.”

“I’m sorry about that... I just didn’t know who you were, where you were, or what you wanted. I thought you would have heard the bells and run. I didn’t know so many Z’s would come.”

“Well, we are now screwed,” Warren announces. “We are completely surrounded with no way out, and those doors aren’t going to hold forever.”

Louis sits forward and says, “I know a way out.”

—

You’d done a lot of stupid things during the apocalypse, but escaping a church full of zombies into a crypt had to have been one of the most stupid yet. All it would take is one Z to let loose, and all hell would break out.

10k takes all his frustration out on the brick wall that was blocking the exit with Louis' ax.

“Hand me that; I’m opening the tomb for Louis.” Warren says sternly.

You felt sorry for Louis; he was clinging to his faith that the saint could somehow save the world. Not long after you’d entered the crypt, he found her tomb, but you went on ahead, not wanting to see what was inside.

You cross your arms over and lean back against the wall. Sarge leans beside you. “You look lost in thought. Care to share with the class?”

“I just thought that since everyone turns when they die, everyone inside the tombs would have turned us well.”

The second the words slip from your lips, you hear a commotion coming from where the tomb is. The saint inside the tomb had officially turned.

—

After finding nothing useful inside the saint's tomb, 10k managed to knock more of the wall down to find out there were metal bars on the other side preventing anyone from leaving.

“You guys hear that? The bells are ringing again.”

“Do you think it’s a trap?” You ask.

“There's only one way to find out,” Warren says before leading the way back to the church.

You were relieved to see the bell was only ringing because two zombies got caught up in the ropes when you climbed back into the church. Your group took the opportunity to leave.

Warren abruptly stops walking when she spots the body of a little girl who had been shown mercy, holding onto a golden hand. Louis said it was the relic he’d been looking for. The young girl had a strong resemblance to Lucy, which made escaping feel like an actual miracle.

—

Once outside, Warren handed the golden relic in the shape of a hand to Louis. On his return, he handed over a large battery to Sarge.

Back at the vehicle, you used the battery to turn on the transmitter. The signal was strong enough to hear Kaya's citizen Z partner, but she couldn’t hear you.

“What now?”

Warren clicks her tongue and says, “We go back to America.”

#z nation #10k x reader #10k x you #z nation 10k #z nation fanfiction #doc z nation #10k z nation #z nation warren #murphy z nation #z nation fandom #inside outisde #10k/you #10k/reader

[chryzure]

what are chrysi, jacks and azures LEAST fav dessert and foods....what would chryzure/chrysijacks be like as animal crossing villagers....best chryzure dates theyve ever had? how do chrysijacks get on each others nerves?

chrysi does NOT like cupcakes… they’re too dry… normal cakes are fine but they’re on thin ice. she tolerates them only because aurora’s good at making them.

jacks hates apple pie. you’ve fucked up a perfectly good apple (and also he can only take a couple bites of a normal apple. you expect him to attempt to eat a whole apple AND something else? awful.)

azure hates cinnamon rolls. he doesn’t have a reason. he jst thinks they’re awful. he jst hates cinnamon in general, honestly..

i know NOTHING abt animal crossing, so i jst spent an inordinate amt of time on the wiki, and ive come away w this: jacks would b a lazy wolf. hobby is annoying chrysi but would probably b classified as “play” (…?) ummm chrysi’s a peppy cat (even though i mean peppy in a manic sort of way… idk how it works in animal crossing) w hobby as music probably & azure OBVI is a snooty rabbit. look at him.. hobby is education because he doesn’t know what else he should do..

best chryzure dates have included snow fight where chrysi briefly buried herself in the snow to jump out and attack azure when he came by (she got sick afterwards. what was she expecting) & azure ever-so-sweetly dropped a snowball under chrysi’s shirt, movie night where they got a little buzzed and watched weird italian horror movies, and zombie apocalypse photography / journalism outing 🫶🏻 they 🖤 each other..

jacks gets on chrysi’s nerves by how short-sighted and stupid he is abt everything. he’s dense as hell and also so full of himself ANYWAY and it makes her want to throttle him.. it also makes her mad that she’s attracted to this asshole anyway. he is the WORST. he’s self-absorbed and overly self-confident and STUPID. and she adores him.

chrysi gets on jacks’s nerves by being beautiful and mean at the same time, because it’s rlly not fair. how DARE she know all the right things to say that are going to hurt and how DARE she make him love her all the more for it??? ((honestly, he hates how MEAN chrysi can get. yes, he still adores her, but FUCK can her words cut. even her teasing ones. and it sucks….)

#did i spend my entire lunch break trying to figure out the ac thing? yes. does my answer reflect that? no… #thank you btw i’m feeling a lot better. #.asks #m.moon🎀 #s.chryzure #s.chrysijacks