#apocalypse!au schlatt

[espresso-lessdepresso]

First Contact || Apocalypse!au Jschlatt

a/n: 1. The Last of Us Universe 2. Sorry to the girls and gays this has no kissing whatsoever, quite lacking in any intimacy really 3. The ravioli is only in here because TLOU had it as well.

t/w: Mention of death. Mention of dying. Stealing. Weapons. Guns. Fire. Zombies. Infected. Blood. Blood wound. Wounded reader. Needles. Stitches. Reader gets stitches. Distrust. Suspicion. 

w/c: 3.6k

Cans of food, empty containers, rope, forgotten ammo and maybe a lone deer if you were lucky.

It was meant to only be a small run for some supplies. You would have gotten what you needed and left the rest for some rainy day. The town you frequented was small and it was supposed to be empty, its residents had long since been evacuated. And probably shot down by FEDRA soldiers, from what you had heard, to prevent any more from getting infected and roaming the earth. You were in someone's old house, packing up cans of food, medical supplies and other items when you heard the sound of glass crunching. Before you knew it, an infected emerged from behind a broken-down wall and lunged at you. As you dodged and shot at its head till it dropped dead, more came.

A whole horde. As fucked up as it sounded, they looked fresh. Infected for a few days or weeks. Runners and Stalkers both. Again, the town had been empty since the first few weeks of the outbreak, so you could've only guessed that they somehow migrated to this area. Maybe followed a group of survivors, maybe bit one and infected them before quickly spreading to the others. Runners were bad because if you saw one, there were probably going to be a handful of others nearby. But stalkers? Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. They were smart. They moved fast, they knew how to hide from you and would ambush you and straight up hunt you down like you're their little prey. It didn't help that you needed to use a few extra bullets to take them out.

And it was just your luck that the Molotov cocktail you had fashioned got knocked out of your hand when one of the infected jumped at you, pinning you to the ground. Within seconds, the bottle shattered and the floor was set on fire. The whole building was going to be swallowed by the flames.

After kicking the infected off of you and beating your hatchet into its fungi-covered skull, you crawled on the ground in a coughing fit trying to escape the burning house. Wooden beams fell from the ceiling, crushing a few infected underneath them. The wall beside you collapsed, trapping your lower body beneath its rubble. 

The rest- they flinched and screeched and groaned, but they still made their way towards you.

Black smoke surrounded you. Strokes of fire licked your skin. Breathing had started to hurt and your eyes burned red. All you could see was the blur of lights and the shadows that grew closer.

Fire. 

Smoke.

Infected.

Horde.

....Sounds of gunshots came from somewhere.

You woke up to the dull sound of metal clanking against each other. Blinking your eyes open, you were met with the dark blue sky, littered with specks of small stars. You were in the woods, on a worn-out sleeping bag and laying under a jacket that was far too big to be your own. The sweat had dried on your skin making you feel a bit sticky and tacky. Hours must have passed seeing as how the sun was high when you were in the town. Breathing hurt, every slow inhale you took felt like something was scratching the insides of your lungs and your throat was dry.

Tic tic tic tic... Foosh.

When you turned your head to the side towards the sound, you were met with the sight of a gruff-looking man hunched over a portable gas stove. The fire burned low, on top of which he placed what looked to be a pot of water.

The first thing your eyes darted towards was the head of a rifle poking out from behind his shoulders, hung by a makeshift strap across his torso. Your gaze briefly wandered to the shadow behind him, a pickup truck a few metres away from you. Your eyes went back to him, his face illuminated by the orange light. While he was staring at the water, waiting for it to boil, you could make out the tense expression behind his unkempt brown hair; furrowed brows and chewing on one side of his bottom lip. His clothes were battered and a bit dirty, but who the hell had clean clothes in this world? With the sweater, gloves and boots, he looked well-prepared for the coming winter, keeping his fingers from freezing off. Oh, and the fleece jacket that on top of you was also probably his.

With a flick of your wrist, you sat up and from your back pocket, pulled out your pistol, barrel pointed at the stranger's head. 

Sure, he gave you his sleeping bag and he might have saved you from the infected horde, but that did not mean he was some nice guy you could risk trusting. No one is just nice, especially not these days, not unless they want something from you. For all you knew, he could be a part of some raiders or hunters or bandits or any other fucking club. As if the infected weren't enough, you had to watch out and hide from these types of people. Somehow, they were worse than the infected. If an infected gets you, you're dead. But if you get caught by the raiders or hunters... You'd seen enough people get dragged off to their camps- heard enough screams to know all the horrors they could do to you.

So, you don't know the stranger in front of you. And he sure as hell doesn't know you.

He looked up, seeing the gun pointed at him and he shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle. "Guess I should've left you in that burning shit hole." His fingers came up to scratch his beard nonchalantly, watching you with the most uninterested and unimpressed look on his face. He wasn't the least bit worried about the possibility of having a bullet between his brows.

You didn’t reply. You took a shallow breath and were hit with cramping pain that pinched at your chest and sides. All that smoke you inhaled was probably still in your lungs. Maybe he knew that, as much as you did, you were in no condition to fight him. Even with the gun in your hands, anxiety itching your finger on the trigger, you could tell this guy wasn't someone to mess around with. 

"Your things are over there," He nodded his head a little way to your left, "by the tree." Your backpack and duffle bag were sitting at the base of an old mossy tree, along with your hatchet and empty shotgun. "If you're going to keep pointing that little thing at me, then better you grab your shit and leave without making too much noise." He held his glare at you, tired brown eyes almost turning black, a solid warning that if you tried anything-

You contemplated, giving yourself a chance to think things through. Really, if he wanted to kill and rob you of even the clothes on your back, he would have done all that before nightfall. You were most likely knocked out for five or six hours, four minimum. He had more than enough time to leave you for dead.

A sudden rustling of leaves caught both of your attention, your necks snapped towards the bushes. Before you could think of pulling the trigger and before the stranger could pull the rifle in front of him, an orange cat hopped out of the dark. Its big green eyes glistened in the twilight, as well as the silver army name tag that was fashioned to its collar. The cat trotted towards the man and dropped a rat from its mouth, paying no mind to you, much like its owner. The man's posture went back to its slumped state, his shoulders relaxed and he pushed the rifle back. He murmured something as he scratched the cat behind its ears, to which it meowed back at him. The cat then shifted its focus to the rodent, starting to nip and tear through it.

"Name?" You asked, lowering your pistol, though your finger remained on the grip. 

He looked up, somewhat glad that the person he had saved was no longer going to blow his brains out. Or at least not yet. "Jambo." He said, slightly drawing out 'o' of the name. The cat then looked up at him, curling its orange tail around the man's leg. 

A sigh left your lips. "I wasn't asking about the cat.” You were dumbfounded, almost amused seeing someone bring around with them a pet. This was really the last thing you expected in a world of chaos and fear.

"Oh. Right, of course." He nodded before properly answering. "Schlatt. I uh- I go by Schlatt."

You tried to rack your brain because you swore you had heard that name before. But you couldn't recall why or from where you heard it. With a parched mouth, you gave him your name in return, to which he nodded again with a rather tired and solemn expression.

Deciding that that was more than enough chit-chatting, you went to push yourself off of the sleeping bag. You were about to stand up from a kneeling position when searing hot pain shot up your thigh. For a split second, you were back in that old burning building, the fire and smoke suffocating you and the infected closing in on you. Something popped against your skin. Wincing and staggering, you dropped one hand on the ground to balance yourself as the other hand instantly went to place itself on your leg where you felt the warm tearing sensation. Only then did you notice the bandages wrapped around your thigh and the makeshift ankle brace on the same leg. There was already enough crimson on the white bandages but because you had moved so harshly, a darker red dot started to rise to the surface. You pressed your lips into a thin line, seeing the blotch of fresh blood travel further down the leg of your pants.

"Wait, don’t just-!" Schlatt hissed through his clenched teeth, "You're going to tear your damn stitches." As tall and as big as he was, his footsteps were light and almost undetectable, something he had perfected throughout the years of the outbreak. You didn't realise he was behind you until you heard his voice right next to your ear. He hooked an arm under yours and motioned you to sit back down. With his other hand on your back, you were laying down again on the sleeping bag. "Tch." The bandages were almost soaking at this point like a wet sponge. 

Pulling out a switchblade, Schlatt hastily cut open the wrappings and peeled it off of the wound with the tip of the blade. There is a massive torn hole on the leg of your jeans. Your breath hitched at the sight of several messy stitches crossing over a long and deep gash on your thigh. That popping you felt seconds ago was undoubtedly the snapping and breaking of two or three of these stitches. You could see how deep the cut was with the lighter layer of skin peeking through. The area around the gash was blushing red, inflamed and irritated from all the tension and reopening of the stitches. 

“What the hell, you did this?” Your breath was laboured but you tried to inhale and exhale calmly, your eyes unable to look away from your leg. 

"I was trying to help you!" Schlatt snapped back at you. “But all for nothing I guess, great fucking job bleeding again.” He wasn't the best when it came to any sort of medical aid. Everything he knew he had learned on his own when the time called for it. And fuck, You were bleeding profusely when he found you. He had no other option than to hold your skin together and run a needle through you like it was a piece of cloth. Though now the stitches were popped and he was all out of medical supplies. Schlatt took a quick glance at you, seeing the thin sheet of sweat beginning to form on your forehead from the spike of adrenaline. "Used all my gauze on you, shit..." He pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it against your leg. 

Grunting, you pointed towards your bag and no other words needed to be said after that. Schlatt shuffled both your bags closer and began to quickly look through it for anything useful. His hand landed on a tin box which somewhat resembled a first aid kit and opened it to find a small tube of antiseptic cream and a roll of gauze. He first poured water on the wound, doing his best to clean and dry the area before gingerly applying the cream. Not knowing what to do about the torn stitches, he just left them as they were. With a firm hand, he finally wrapped the bandage tightly around your leg. The bleeding would stop soon enough. 

Minutes later, you were lying on your back again, the pain dully pulsing in your leg. It was sure to slowly make its way to your hips and you knew it would give you one hell of a back pain.

"Now you owe me twice," Schlatt quipped. 

Even though you felt like your already small reserve of energy had dried out, you without missing a beat rolled your eyes at Schlatt, earning you another dry breathy laugh.

Schlatt had moved to sit a bit closer to you, still on the opposite side of the fire but two or three feet apart this time. He pulled the sleeve of his sweatshirt over his fingers and picked up the pot of boiling water to set it on the ground. Before turning off the stove, Schlatt used a few dry leaves and sticks to make a small campfire to light up the area. He poured some of the water into a metal cup and pulled out a piece of folded paper. Unwrapping the paper revealed a few sticks of what looked to be dried jerky. "Here." He placed the cup in front of you and after picking a few sticks for himself, he held out the rest.

Wearily accepting the food, you muttered thanks. 

The two of you ate quietly, tugging at the stick of meat and then taking a sip of water so that you could actually chew and swallow it. The jerky was old and lacked any flavour, tasting more like leather than food. Glancing at your bag, you thought for a second.

At the sound of a zipper opening, followed by rustling, Schlatt cocked an eyebrow as he looked at you. Out of your other bag, you pulled out a red coloured can. Within days of the outbreak, people stormed every mall and shop and cleared out all the shelves. If you weren’t growing it yourself or had some inside source from the FERDA, then food was hard to find. And your luck was thin of finding something that was both edible and rotting. You eyed the can once more before tossing it over to Schlatt.

In a swift motion, Schlatt caught the red can with one hand and brought it close to his face to read the label on it. "Chef Boyardee Beef Ravioli" was printed on the front of the can with the picture of, what Schlatt assumed, the said chef and the ravioli. He rotated the can, running his thumb over the metal and checking it for dents or rust.

“It’s in pretty good condition.” You said when he raised his brows at you questioningly “Canned food has a pretty long shelf life... and if that's true, I’m pretty sure we won’t die of food poisoning if we eat it.” "Eh," he shrugged, "it's worth a shot." Schlatt rewrapped the unfinished jerky and slid it into his bag. With the help of his pocket knife, he cut open the can and poured some water into it before setting it on the fire to cook. A few minutes later, you both were eating halves of the steaming ravioli. Granted it was a bit off and you had to water down the sauce a little but it was miles better than the leather you were just eating. You did not miss the way Schlatt took his first bite and had to duck his head into his hand, eyes closed in satisfaction as he chewed. "This is fuckin' good." Finally, food that actually tasted like food.

Even the cat- Jambo came around to you, sniffing at the small piece you let him have before scarfing it. 

You stuffed the spoonful of pasta into your mouth, taking a moment to enjoy the hot meal while staring up at the night sky.

A subtle sense of calm and security cloaked around, warming you like the low ambers of fire as you stole glances at the man. The stranger. You knew better than to place your trust in someone you just met. But he- Schlatt- you leaned back in an attempt to physically recoil from your thoughts- he felt different. He acted different. His eyes didn't glaze over with violence or greed, they didn’t linger on you too long for you to suspect anything nor did they threaten you (unprovoked that is). They just looked tired. Eyes that had seen too much, all the chaos and massacres that plagued the world. Eyes that bore witness to his hands trembling in disbelief as he had done the very things he swore to never do. All the scars on his face and the calloused skin proved that. Tiered tiered eyes.  

You felt inexpressible relief- 

Don’t.

-and a bit of regret. 

You let out a long and heavy sigh, not letting your mind wander to hope for anything more than this. This was good. You would live another day. 

This was good enough.

"Nice truck." You commented. It was a pretty decent rig by the looks of it; a four-seater and cargo bed which was covered with a tarp. With the way it was rusting and had its paint scratched off exposing silver streaks of the body, the poor thing had definitely seen better days. "Headed anywhere in particular?" 

"Not really. The last place we-" him and the cat "were staying was ambushed by raiders. Was near the deserted FEDRA hospital down south- y'know the place where they were looking for a cure?" Then it clicked. Since FEDRA abandoned the building and withdrew the general area, quite the ruckus started going down there. Hunters started marking the area as their land. No longer heavily guarded by FEDRA soldiers, raiders slithered their way in. And that was when you first heard his name. Schlatt. He was the only one, who supposedly, gunned down more than half of the raiders before finally escaping. "We made it out just in the nick of time."

"Were... there other? With you?"

"Yeah, but uh, we got separated." Schlatt pulled out a walkie-talkie, flicking it on to only hear the sound of steady static. "It's been months so-" He cleared his throat, "They're as good as dead at this point."

But you're going to put that radio back in your backpack or on the dashboard of your truck. Flicking it on every few days or so, telling yourself that they're dead but unable to take out the batteries that could be used for something better in the future, holding on to that sliver of hope. You won't tell him to lose that hope, since hope is the only thing that keeps most of you going. “I’m sorry.”

"Nah, don't worry about it." Schlatt flicked it back off.

“Hmm...You’re headed east from here?” You asked.

His brows raised as he looked a bit off to the side, “Sure.” He wasn’t. It was as clear as the night sky that he didn’t know where the hell he was going or where he wanted to go.

“Drop me off a few miles from here.” You placed a hand on your thigh. “I’ve got...” A beat passed. Hesitation crawled up behind your neck before somehow letting go. “I’ve got a place. A small farm.”

“A farm? Like with cows and shit?”

“More like Chickens. And a garden. And running water.”

"Chickens?" The corner of his mouth twitched upwards in surprise, for the first time giving you something besides a sneer or dead-eyed glare. The only place he knew that had some sort of functioning farm was at some place called Jackson. “Aha, think you can spare some for this little guy?” He asked, eyes pointing towards Jambo.

“Why not? Drive me there and if you’d like, umm, you can rest there for a while before heading off to wherever you need to go.”

Schlatt squinted at you, "I hope you're not planning to kill me. Like, I drive you to your so-called base and a dozen men show up out of nowhere." It wouldn't be the first time he fell for something like that, but that was years ago and he now knew better than to just walk into a trap like that. A teasing grin played on his face. You shook your head, mirroring the grin and relaxed a bit as you felt a bit of the ice break between you two. “What? You pull a gun on me and think I’d trust you just like that? Geez.” Craning his neck back, his eyes turned towards the sky, looking at the moonless night while tapping his thumb on his hand and the cogs in his brain turning. 

Schlatt turned back to you. "Promise not to kill me?" 

How often did people keep up with those?

"As long as you promise not to kill me... or steal my shit."

Not often these days. 

Schlatt let out a chuckle, showing off the row of his upper teeth. "You've got yourself a deal." 

++++++

Engage and let me know if/how you like the writing. Reblogging/Sharing is much appreciated.

master list

[fear-consumes-my-body]

THE FOUR HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE VS THE ANGELS OF ASCENSION (their opposite) AU (I made Molympus the villains and Sleep Deprived the morally-skewed heroes)

Slimecicle - Pestilence

Bizly - Famine

Condi - Death

Grizzly - War

Apandah - Health

Schlatt - Abundance

Aztro - Life

Mika - Peace

(M for Molympus and SD for Sleep Deprived) EXPLANATION:

M found out the best way to get under people's skin (both metaphorically and literally) was to seem nice to them, kindness gets you close, and then you can inflict what you want. SD have a tendency to be not so nice, sometimes unintentionally, to be able to show people on what they need to achieve, Schlatt showed the DSMP how much they had by taking it away and gradually giving it back. A lot of the time, both teams try and get to a server before AND after the other because they know they can always reverse the other teams affects.

[peachmi1k]

hi frieeends i misst u guys! life has been a little crazy lately 😪

[gibsongirled]

the fall.

description: on the night of the outbreak, schlatt is forced to run for safety and everything sinks in as he deals with the fact that this is his new reality.

warnings: mentions of blood and death (not schlatt), apocalypse au.

The apocalypse happened on a Tuesday.

A lot of things happened on that Tuesday all around the world. Children being born, someone being promoted, someone finally having a good day, and some news about some people acting strange in Little Rock. Fuck happens in Arkansas, anyway?

Schlatt didn’t care about what was happening around the world or why people were acting strange in Little Rock. It was America- he’d be concerned if nothing strange was happening. He had a jam-packed schedule that was supposed to be done before his head had hit the pillow that night. Record that podcast episode that they’ve been putting off due to issues. Reply to work emails that started to pile up in his inbox. Meet up with some old friends he had suddenly gotten back into contact with. It was an ordinary day for him.

The New York sirens were a little bit louder that night when he stumbled back to his apartment after hanging out with his old friends at a random bar they picked off Google Maps. He didn’t drink much, the climb to his apartment made his legs more tired than they should have been. The sirens didn’t bother him that much- he had already gotten used to the New York City ambience from a young age. He cursed and huffed, trying to unlock his door, so that he could get some well needed sleep after a long day.

While Schlatt was a deep sleeper and had always joked that he could not be easily awoken, he woke up in cold sweat that night, having heard loud screams and the sound of cars honking continuously out on the streets. Then the sound of glass shattering made him leap out of bed, carefully running to his window to check outside.

The streets were pure chaos. Schlatt could see the broken windows of the small corner store he always frequented, fire engulfing the entire building. He could see smoke from a distance as well. People fled from the scene, some screaming while some just ran. They looked like they were trying to run from something, Schlatt couldn’t figure out what. What was happening? Loud stomping was heard from the room above him. Muffled voices and shouts before it just went quiet. His upstairs neighbors weren’t the type of people to suddenly go quiet.

Something was wrong. He felt it deep in his bones and he needed to leave now. Notifications flooded from his phone, lighting the room up. He grabbed it, seeing the panicked messages from Ted, Charlie, and the others. Missed calls and one hundred plus text messages from his friends combined, his phone died before he could send any text out. God fucking damnit.

His front door slammed loudly like something - or someone - was trying to break in. Schlatt moved quickly, throwing on his sweater and grabbed the baseball bat he kept in the corner of his bedroom. Slowly opening his bedroom door, the loud banging from the front door increased and Schlatt held the bat up, prepared to swing at anything that managed to break down his door and come at him. Then he heard the wooden door crack open, hearing the door fall onto the floor with a loud thud, a chill ran up his spine. Hands gripped the handle tightly, knuckles turning white.

It was like a scene from his nightmares when he was younger. The kind that made him wake up in cold sweat and made his mouth dry. The former human now turned deformed creature from the depths of hell let out a shrieking sound, its grotesque figure standing upright and its eyes suddenly trained on him. It made a janky turn and sprinted towards him, Schlatt swung the bat as hard as he could, hitting the creature with a crushing sound. Wide eyes and heavy breath, he looked down at the motionless creature on the floor of his apartment, his hands shaking at what just happened.

The - usually clean - hallway was splattered with blood- some smeared on the beige walls. Schlatt looked away from the scene, feeling bile rise up his throat. He held his bat up in case someone decided to strike. His surroundings were eerily quiet now and the only sounds were from the street below. Schlatt rushed down the stairs and out onto the street. Cars honked at each other, people pushed other people on the ground and some grabbed each other, trying to escape before something like the dead one (God, he hoped that it was dead) back in his apartment got them.

So Schlatt followed the strangers. Ran behind them, grabbed some hands to pull them up from the ground and hoped they followed him. Was New York even prepared for this to happen? Did they even have shelters? There should be a cure, right? His heart was pounding out of his chest and his breathing was heavy. Schlatt could feel his legs throb and cramp up, but he pushed through.

Somehow, by some luck, he made it on the Brooklyn Bridge. Helicopters flew overhead, the sound of them jarring to his ears. Lights shone down on him and the group of strangers, he winced at the brightness. A military tank rolled up on the bridge, and a man's head popped out from the hatch with a megaphone.

“Get off the bridge.” He said, his voice firm. He wasn’t asking. He was forcing them off the bridge.

Schlatt could feel tension around him get worse after the man’s words. Children let out loud cries and their parents tried to shush them. An agitated man pushed past the crowd of people and stood in front of Schlatt. The man twitched oddly and Schlatt froze, gripping the handle of his bat. The man began to move erratically, his foot shifted to sprint at man in the tank. A loud gunshot pierced through, a high-pitched sound ringing out in his ears. Cries, screams, and the high-pitched ringing mixed together in an unholy cacophony of sounds.

He felt something wet on his face, he wiped it off with his fingers. He froze, unable to move or speak. Blood. Blood on his face. Blood from the man that was in front of him a moment ago. The man who now laid dead in front of him, pool of blood surrounding him. Blood on his sweater.

He will not be able to look at that sweater again. It was his favorite too.

[mister-sandwich]

Another episode of Chuckle Sandwich, another text post to create. SO. I watched episode 40, and they end up doing a Fuck, Marry, Kill: Ghost, Werewolf, Vampire. NOW, while this is hypothetical and could mean absolutely nothing I am choosing to share the answers, their reasoning (if applicable), and any other thoughts I personally have about it in case Tumblr wants to write some fun monster AUs (AHEM HALLOWEEN AHEM). Or, if Tumblr wants to use their answers as insight into how they'd be in relationships. I'm hoping to help feed that delusion with my own observations. Since this is FUCK, marry, kill there is some mild nsfw so be warned.

(also I'm still pretty new to this but- I'm trying to make these posts look prettier as I go. ALSO. this is 2 years old so maybe some opinions have changed idk!)

✧.* Schlatt ✧.*

∙ Marry Vampire, Kill Ghost, Fuck Werewolf ∙ Believe it or not this is exactly what I chose in my head before they read out their answers (This is because I LOVE vampires, am a monster fucker/like BIG MEN, and think fucking a ghost would simply be like fucking the air so take that as you will for how it applies to Schlatt) ∙ He chose to marry the vampire purely because he doesn't want to be seen with the vampire and the burning in sunlight helps that LMFAO ∙ Kills the ghost because of least remorse because it's already dead (admittedly I thought the same) ∙ Then he fucks the werewolf because he likes big hairy men. (he's actually so zesty in this episode I can't.) ∙ Honestly his answers are so non-serious I'm going to look like a fool for analyzing them but whatever I'm doing it anyway this is how I destress ∙ I think if I were to take any genuine thoughts away it would be that marrying the vampire speaks to his more introverted, night owl self that he describes throughout a few of these episodes (also I believe he's into emo/alt chicks OR MEN I GUESS SINCE THIS EPISODE HAS GOT ME THINKIN THAT.) ∙ I'm not gonna comment on the werewolf. He's a monster fucker OR furry. ∙ ACTUALLY WAIT I AM. I think this slightly validates my "he likes angry or over confident people" arguement cause werewolves are stereotyped to be aggressive AS SHIT. I genuinely think this man wants someone who will challenge him. ∙ The ghost thing kinda fuels my parasocial belief that he's actually pretty considerate, like viewing the other two as alive and not wanting to kill them is sweet (AHEM- TED.)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Ted ࿐ྂ

∙ SPEAK OF THE DEVIL. ∙ Marry Vampire, Fuck Ghost, Kill Werewolf ∙ Chooses to marry the vampire because he views it like Twilight and he wants to be carried around by his super speedy vampire gf ∙ Also says the sparkly skin is a bonus (again if Twilight vampire) ∙ Fucks the ghost because "worst-case scenario it's some ectoplasm, slime situation, could be some good lubrication" but then the actual worst-case scenario, he clarifies, is he's just jerking off ∙ And he kills the werewolf because he "has a lot of silver bullets lying around" ∙ Again. Dumb, stupid answers. Well, more serious than Schlatt's at least. ANYWAY HERE WE GO. ∙ Vampire marriage confirms my own delusions that this man is a WIFE GUY. If his partner is good at ANYTHING he is happy to just sit there like ":)" ∙ He's just being low-risk on the sex imo, I mean he says it himself. It's either slightly goopier normal sex or jackin it, so I just believe this man is kinda vanilla (sorry all the freaky Ted fans, I could be wrong, maybe it actually just means Ted is straight while Schlatt likes BIG HAIRY MEN.) ∙ Killing the werewolf I think just feeds into the little hero fantasies he's talked about having like how he'd survive and even thrive in a zombie apocalypse or save everyone in a car crash. A werewolf is the most "beastly" option so I think he just thinks he'd look badass killing it

︶꒦꒷ Charlie ꒷꒦︶

∙ "Well, it really depends on their personality." ∙ Anyway, after the other two told him to shut up and pick he ended up settling on: Marry Ghost, Fuck Vampire, Kill Werewolf. ∙ Charlie chooses to marry the ghost because "it seems fun, go on fun ghost dates :D" ∙ Really thinks it's cool that they can go through walls ∙ Anyway his answer is too genuine, loving, and whimsical for the other two crusty men at the table so he doesn't explain his reasoning for fucking the vampire and killing the werewolf ∙ I guess it's up to me to make assumptions: ∙ Well to start, I think marrying the ghost is very cute and on brand for Charlie, the personality thing at the beginning was probably just a joke because I mean it IS fuck, marry, kill after all... But I think there was some truth to it ∙ You may or may not be able to physically touch a ghost and it just seems like that isn't important to him, just a person who died and who is probably pretty interesting is enough for him, it's very sweet ∙ Again I think he's fucking the vampire because I mean- at the end of the day who wouldn't. It's just like a sexier person who maybe sucks your blood. C'mon. Also, he just isn't a werewolf fucker type. ∙ Admittedly, originally he was going to marry the werewolf for it's ability to go out into the sun but then he was reminded that every month that thing is HULKING OUT so he switched ∙ So like, I assume he was just focused on the negative aspects of the werewolf and that's why he said kill

ANYWAY-- I hope you enjoyed this, most of you seem to be as freaky obsessed with these clowns as I am so I thought it'd be good to write. Use it for Halloween I double-dog dare you.

[fridgrave]

schlatt in zombie apocalypse au gives me a brainrot

actually i have some thoughts on "the last of us" crossover where he helps tommy (who is immune to the virus-fungus shit) and wilbur to get into the medical station where scientists can make a cure

[dotts-inkings]

Stitches don't heal AU overview - minus final arc ideas @maskedbutsilly :3

Before

So it starts like a decade post-apocalypse. Lorelai is the head of a settlement of people (definitely not lmanburg mhm mhm) and doing pretty well at it actually. People are happy. Connor at this time is travelling with Schlatt I mean Jay, and they two are in the business of inflitrating and taking down settlements n ramshackle cities for hire and for fun. They go in build trust then tear the settlement down for profit.

So Connor and Jay find themselves outside Lor's place, as Jay has history with Lor and wants him dead. This spawns a split in the settlement's loyalties, as the J + C team are very charismatic n lay down lies about Lor's ability to lead, about his past that very few know, basically just fucking Lor over at every turn from the outside (as Lor banned them from being able to come in). 

Lor around this time gets bit by a zombie and, already being accused of being an all-around poor individual, gets really paranoid that his people will turn on him. He hides the bite and gets deathly ill over the course of a few weeks, all the while battling J+C, inside dissent, and his own self-worth issues (as he can't help but listen when everyone around him is questioning his worth). Towards the end, when he thinks he's about to turn, he runs into the wilderness taking only a token to remember his son by and a cloak to die in.

Connor and Jay find their way in when Lor runs, and that night, torch the whole place. 

Survival

Lor survives the bite. In the weeks after he runs, he feels the worst hes ever felt-- sick to the point where he can't walk, colder than anything even in june, and starved. He doesn't know why he didn't turn completely, but he blames it on his dad, that good-for-nothing jerk. 

But Lor doesn't come out the other end unchanged. He's nearly dead- blood flow reduced to a bare minimum, eye corneas blackened (hides with tinted glasses), temperature regulation all wack (clothing clothing clothing for days), wounds dont heal (stitches don't heal they only bind meat together), and of course his body also rejects all food except human flesh. 

He wanders for a long, long while before he meets anyone that won't kill him within the first day of knowing him.

Lor and Connor (unknowing of their history together) meet face to face for the first time in a run-down barn on the edge of some surprisingly well-maintained farmland. Connor and Jay's whole deal had gone south very quickly when Connor started getting ambitions of his own, wanting more than to be some asshole's crony and trophy husband. Connor escaped Jay and hopped from city to city, trying to make his way, until he made some of the wrong enemies and was nearly killed. He avoided people for the most part after that, only coming into contact to get goods to stay alive.

They meet when Lor stumbles upon Connor's temporary resting spot- Connor startling into waking and reflexively driving a blade across Lor's chest. This ends up with the two of them travelling together, Connor feeling guilty and Lor enchanted by Connor's failgirl vibe. Lor hides his weird zombie-ness from Connor. Connor, after learning Lor's name, hides his complicity in the destruction of Lor's home.

They wander together for a good while. Theyre like the worst little dudes youve ever seen- they can't stop aggravating each other, but are drawn to each other because the other is the only one who's been able to tolerate and even appreciate the other for their flaws. 

Lor after all this time feels apathetic about most things, callous towards the bad, and cracking jokes at the good. Connor on the other hand finds himself caring too much- he finds a stance to argue on just about any topic, and has killed when his conversation partner pisses him off too much. Lor feels deeply about the past he shares freely with Connor, how he misses his son, his friends. Connor would prefer to forget it all and bury it before his only friend finds out his secret. They pick at each other.

At some point down the line, they get into a relationship. And shortly after, Lor finally breaks the whole zombie thing to Connor-- its kind of hard not to notice when youre kissing a guy with zombie-cold lips, and Lor knows enough about normal people behavior to know thats kind of a stupid thing to hide from your partner. Connor reacts poorly, of course, but better than Lor thought. Connor doesn't attack him or run. Instead he blows up- Lor eats people??? Lor is a zombie, just like the shambling wrecks all around them, and he expects Connor to believe that Lor's not planning to kill him? Or use him to kill others? Has Lor been sneaking away to eat human the whole time theyve known each other (yeah)? They get closer together, but Lor revealed too much and Connor can't deal with the knowledge.

Death(?)

Its a tense few days later when Lor and Connor are passing through a dead city. Its overrun by hordes of zombies, who pay no mind to Lor, but seem all too happy to hunt Connor down. Theyre just doing a supply run, but it gets bad fast, and theyre overcome. They break into a locked building, shattering a window (and Connor slicing his leg open on the glass). The position isn't tenable. They know they have to find a way through the horde somehow but Connor, limping and smelling of blood, can't think of any way out. He knows Lor will make it out safely, but there's no way for Connor to survive here. Lor has an idea. 

They'd split the hordes attention. If one runs first, most of the horde would focus on that one, giving the other time to escape. The only problem is that zombies aren't attracted to Lor, he smells like death. Lor looks down at Connor's bandaged leg wound and warns that what he's about to do will probably freak Connor out, but its the only thing he can think of. He replaces Connor's makeshift bandage with his cloak, and wraps the cloth over his shoulders. 

Smelling of blood, Lor runs out the window and takes most of the horde with him. Connor follows soon after, but is caught by surprise when a small group of zombies grabs at him just outside. Slowed and weakened, he manages to fight them off, but at a cost. As he limps out of the suddenly cleared city, he finds his arm aches something fierce. Connor already knows what he'll find if he looks down at it. 

Looking back into the city from a hill on the outskirts, he sees a large shuffle of motion at its center, and wonders if Lor is still caught in the horde, if he escaped or was torn to pieces. Alone on the hill, Connor hopes Lor escaped.

[doetic]

Memento Mori - Jschlatt x F!Reader (Zombie AU!)

1/? -> Next Part (Coming soon)

Plot: New York City is not the most pleasant place to be stuck in during a zombie apocalypse, especially as a tourist from another country. After just barely escaping a dangerous situation, Y/n finds herself saved by a standoffish man named Schlatt who seems to think she's more trouble than she's worth. Unfortunately, the perilous world the couple has found themselves in requires them to stick together in order to survive, even if they can't stand each other. Warnings: Zombie apocalypse typical violence, Descriptions of blood, wounds, and fainting. guns. Word Count: 2160

A/N: It's been a while! I'm sorry I keep promising fics that never appear, I've had a hectic school and exam semester. I ended up submitting my wips to my prof for grades so I couldn't post them unfortunately. Luckily they're back now so I'll be revising and trying to get into a good schedule. I hope you enjoy this one especially, I've been sitting on it forever!

 “Just tell me, once this is over, would you stay with me? Would you want me like this?” The tall brunette’s voice was filled with a sense of nervous urgency, his brown eyes that were usually filled with a closed off sense of overconfidence pleading to you with unfallen tears of affection. 

You were quiet, your mouth unable to function as you looked at him with sad, wet eyes. It was a shock, seeing the man so desperate before you. He was usually cocky or angry, nothing like this… It made you wonder how things turned out this way. How you both ended up in such a fucked up situation. How you couldn’t give him a true, honest answer. - Memento mori

Remember you must die

Your whole body felt weak and faint while your shoes slammed against the ground as you ran down the street, the heavy black backpack you had slung over your shoulder was causing your body to tilt to the right underneath its weight, your hands constantly adjusting its position on your shoulder out of discomfort. The sunrise was slowly dipping below the horizon, casting a heavenly golden light between the buildings, although it did little to save you from the summer heat that the excess of pavement in the city amplified, coating your body in an uncomfortable sheen of sweat. Although you were dressed light in your too small shorts and thin tank top that was about half holes half fabric, your flesh felt as if it was physically melting off of you from the heat. You were lucky people forgot about sun safety during the apocalypse, it meant you were easily able to scavenge for good sunscreen, although you probably had sweat so much off by now that it wouldn’t do anything. The yelling from the men behind you made the situation all the more frantic, especially with the addition of the heavy and steady stream of warmth on the lower right side of your stomach that refused to go unnoticed. Your amateur attempt at stitches had ripped a while ago when the chase began, and the reopened wound was clearly the cause of your woozy feeling. Somehow, Despite the dire situation, you felt a desperate jolt of regret in your body for not letting your grandmother teach you more about sewing past the basics when you were a child.

You sharply turned the corner, running into an alleyway. The quick turn disoriented your lightheaded body. Time felt thick and slow as two options presented themselves to you; climb the nearby fire escape and find a way out through the apartment complex (but risk being cornered inside), or continue down the alleyway to the street it connected to and risk being ambushed on the other side. The sound of your heartbeat played as a steady yet fast paced drum in your ears as you heard the sound of the men’s running feet slamming on the pavement coming closer and closer. Your mind envisioned the bullets that would swiftly pierce your skin once they found you. The feeling of your body collapsing onto the pavement in a painful heap that was warm and sticky with your blood seeming more like a prophecy than a possibility. With sweaty hands you scrambled on top of the nearby dumpster and grabbed a hold of the fire escape ladder. The rusty appendage creaked dangerously under your weight. You could feel even more stitches tearing as you pulled yourself up. Your battered and weak body yelled at you to stay still and rest as you made it onto the platform, collapsing onto your stomach. Acting on adrenaline alone, you pulled yourself shakily onto your hands and knees and sent the hardest kicks you could to the ladder, causing it to slam into the ground below and render your pursuers unable to follow you up. Just as they rounded the corner to the alley, you crawled through the broken window of the apartment, only just barely avoiding detection. The tan carpet was moldy, presumably from rain entering through the broken window you had used to get in. Still, you collapsed into a heap on the carpet, panting heavily from the run. You were especially unlucky to have been in New York City as a tourist when the apocalypse broke out four months ago. Even though quite a bit of time had passed since the apocalypse broke out, you were still a novice at navigating the concrete jungle, which made avoiding scavenging in places already claimed by hostile groups of survivors a difficult task. You were honestly surprised you even managed to escape the current situation alive and find a safe spot, although the whole interaction was not worth the lone can of beans that had started the whole conflict. You hardly had time to catch your breath before your weak and disoriented body was quickly pulled up into a kneeling position by the now unbearably heavy backpack you wore, your tired body feeling much like a ragdoll. The cocking of a gun and cold metal pressed against your head soon followed.

You didn’t even have the energy to be scared anymore. Your mind was woozy, the world spinning from the blood that flowed and flowed uncontrollably from your weakened body, and the only thing you had the strength to do was wonder what death would be like. It sounded nice to no longer exist, to not think or experience anything anymore, to have your consciousness absorbed by an unending black void. To not be. But as death placed a cold, metal kiss to the back of your forehead, you couldn’t help but picture a set of sheer white curtains. You would feel content, watching them tinged orange from the sun that set over your childhood hometown through the window. The breeze softly leaving small kisses all over your face as you stood a few meters away from the open window, the curtains dancing in the gentle wind transfixing you to the sight. It would smell like the irreplaceable evenings spent with your friends as you waited for someone to start a bonfire. You would feel like you did once you finished swimming in the quarry on a perfectly warm summer day, but without the soggy feeling of being wet. It would be the manifestation of being hugged by a loved one you hadn’t seen in a while, your bodies pressed together into a gentle yet tight embrace, a soft feeling coating your body. You never wanted to let go. As the world seemed more and more distant, you squeezed your eyes shut, savouring the image you could practically taste upon your tongue. Death would be easy. It would be safe. It would be peaceful. It would all be okay. It would all be okay. It would all be okay. By the time your body slumped face first onto the floor, you were no longer around to experience the sensation of falling.

-

You woke up in a bed that someone you would never know once called their own, dust and the powder of broken plaster covering nearly all possible surfaces in the dilapidated yet fairly well kept bedroom. A steady breeze was blowing in through the large broken window, the sheer white curtains that flowed with it were tinged yellow with both age and the light from the setting sun that lowered solemnly into the horizon. The wind from the half opened window grazed against your skin as you inhaled the crisp, thick breeze into your lungs and felt your body be painted in a heavenly gold by the ethereal golden hue. The pain that seeped into every bit of your being breathily whispered into your ear that this was not heaven. A faint rustling grew closer and closer to the door of the room. You wanted to sob loudly as you propped yourself up in the bed feeling a tightness in your side where your wound had been. It wasn’t moving like the rest of your body. You peeled off the covers gently, bandages covering the biggest problem area and more staring back at you. You had been patched up. You carefully put the covers back on as if any exposure to air would ruin it. Your still adjusting eyes wandered around the room, cautiously searching for something to use as a weapon against whatever could be making the noise that came from just outside the door. The only reason you could imagine having been cared for by a stranger was if they belonged to one of those radical fringe cults that began popping up after the apocalypse hit. Unfortunately, you had no interest in joining them and they never took too kindly to rejection. You inhaled sharply as the room’s door opened and perhaps the tallest man you had seen in person entered the room, a can of beans with a spoon stuck out of it looking small as he held it in his hand. His hair was brown and long enough to peek out of the weathered New York Yankees cap placed on his head, a stray bit falling in front of his face. The man’s facial hair was odd, styled into a mustache and mutton chops although it was roughly trimmed, likely a result of having to use scissors.

The sight of him was inarguably intimidating. He was dressed in bits of gear he must have looted from dead riot police that had come to defend the city at the beginning of the outbreak. His large form was adorned with the bullet proof vest, forearm covers, and knee pads they often wore. Strapped to his waist in a holster was a handgun. You suddenly felt silly wielding the 70’s alarm clock you had instinctively picked up. “I’ll give you a few moments to think about if you really want to attack me,” he said, his dark brown eyes watching you quickly drop the alarm clock to the floor. “Smart.” “Who are you?” You asked, trying anything you could to seem in control over the situation in which you could not possibly be less in control. “I should be asking you that. You’re the one who broke into my safehouse and bled all over the place. Do you know how hard it is to clean up blood well enough that it won't attract zombies? Especially without cleaning supplies,” He countered bitterly. Although his movements were casual in nature while he placed the can of beans beside a glass of water you hadn’t noticed on the end table, everything about him exuded an intimidating level of power and dominance, not to mention annoyance towards your presence. He picked up the discarded alarm clock from the ground, his gaze hard as he examined it in his hand before also placing it on the bedside table. “Well yeah, but…”

“But what? You’re not in any place to be making demands,” His eyes flickered back to yours, his gaze daring you to go on. “So either we’re at an impasse, or you cough up your name. I really don’t care either way.”

“Y/n,” You let a few beats pass before responding, looking down at the weathered duvet that covered your body rather than at him. “Schlatt,” He replied in turn. Wordlessly he lifted the duvet that covered your injured side and peeled up your shirt. With precise hands, he shifted around your bandages to inspect your patched up wound. You knew better than to make a comment about his odd name and cold hands.

“Well thank you …Schlatt… for helping me out,” Your words were shy as you tried to ease the tension between you two.

“Don’t,” came Schlatt’s curt reply. “I didn’t do it for your sake or anything, I’d just rather not have to deal with body disposal on top of everything.”

You stayed silent, watching as he continued to inspect your wound before re-covering it and pulling away, looking down at you. Every second spent in the same room as him had you feeling like more and more of a burden. Although you were grateful to Schlatt for saving your life, you couldn’t help but dislike being around him.

“You should eat,” He broke the silence, motioning to the can of beans he put beside your bed. “Don’t let them go to waste, it’s hard getting shit around here. And sleep too. You’ve been out for a few days but you still don’t look in good shape, if anything were to happen you’d be a burden.”

Not wanting to cause any issues, you stayed silent. In lieu of a response you quickly picked up the can of beans and began to eat, not noticing how ravenously hungry you were until you had food in your grasp. Schlatt’s cold eyes watched you for a few moments before he walked out, leaving you alone in the dimming room as the sun set.

[mcytrecursive]

Nomination Overview - Post-Apocalyptic AU

A niche tag, so you'd think? Well not THAT niche, not in this fandom. 7 post-apocalyptic works so far, including our longest work nominated to date, (over half a million words), and several art AUs!

Title: this is about a stuffed bird Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36163102/chapters/90146260 Fandom: Hermitcraft SMP Author: Bee_4 Relationships: Mumbo Jumbo & Evil Xisuma Characters: Mumbo Jumbo, Evil Xisuma Length of the work: 78,043 words Genre: Action/Adventure, AU, Character Study, Friendship, Horror, Post-Apocalyptic AU, Type: Fic Summary: In which Mumbo crosses several towns, learns some creative methods of self-defense, fights some monsters, sees things no human is meant to have seen, befriends a stranger, steals multiple cars, has inconvenient moral scruples, grows increasingly terrified of his own culpability in the apocalypse, grows a spine, blows up at least one building, accidentally prevents a murder, and attempts to find his best friend in the futile but ever-burning hope the man’s still alive. He has to say, he’s so exhausted and terrified that he thinks he might just be mad? (OR: the one where, after most of humanity turns into a series of terrifying monsters, Mumbo decides he’s going to risk his life on an apocalypse road trip to try to find out if Grian is alive. Things, as you might imagine, devolve from there.)

__

Title: greener grasses Rating: E-rated Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31163336/chapters/79676620 Fandom: Dream SMP Author: Apocynaceae Relationships: Quackity/Schlatt, Quackity&Karl, Quackity/Eret Characters: Quackity, Schlatt, Karl Jacobs, BadBoyHalo, Awesamdude, Ponk, Tommyinnit Length of the work: 569,475 words Genre: AU, Crossover, Drama, Horror, Modern AU, Post-Apocalyptic AU, Slow Burn, Time Travel, College AU Type: Fic Summary: Twenty-two years after the Survival Multiplayer event, Quackity has dreams of attending a law program in a walled city out West. Desperate to pay for expenses during his next semester at ManbergU, he accepts a TA position with his former professor. It's Quackity's last chance to get out of Manberg. It's his worst mistake. Features ghosts, time travel, possession, alternate universes, nonconsensual drug use, academic misconduct like you would not believe, an apocalypse, and midterm drama. 

__

Title: Space Mining AU Link: here and here Fandom: 3rd Life SMP Author: wszczebrzyszynie Relationships: Team Ranchers, Cledubs, Ethubs, Scarian, Treebark, Convex brothers, ImpSkizz, Flower Husbands. Zedaph, Doc, Pearl and Gem are also characters. Everything mentioned as platonic, except romantic Jizzie. Characters: Tango and Jimmy Genre: Action/Adventure, AU, Drama, Post-Apocalyptic AU, Space AU Type: Art Summary: Space Mining AU. Tango was an engineer, became a wanted terrorist after he blew up Callisto, a moon where he was doing illegal skulk mining. He blew it up alongside other miners after finding out that skulk is alive, parasitic and infecting people, but he ended up being the sole survivor of the explosion, and the skulk wasn't completely sealed off. He ends up living with Desert Duo for a while (a pair of also dangerous criminals), and that's where he meets Jimmy. It kind of all goes downhill from there.

__

Title: the last days of the free angel of carrows  Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41524917 Fandom: Hermitcraft SMP Author: Bee_4 Relationships: Mainly Joe & Cleo & Pearl Characters: Joe, Cleo and Pearl Length of the work: 79,327 words Genre: Action/Adventure, AU, Casefic, Fantasy AU, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Apocalyptic AU, Angels & Demons AU Type: Fic Summary: The Atsign Agency: run by Joe Hills and the zombie Cleo, they're here to solve all of your supernatural problems, hauntings, magical accidents, and also just about any contracting work or errands you need if you're willing to have it done cheaply by two unqualified odd jobbers struggling to make rent. After over a decade together in the city of Carrows, the two of them frequently see things and deal with things that are probably a bit too ridiculous to name, and have the experience to handle it, if not particularly frequently the money. When the mysterious (and clearly very rich) Pearl Moon walks into their agency, offering them a massive payment for a simple job, what are they to do but accept? Yeah, they may be about to regret that one. This job is going to be anything but simple, and the entire City of Angels may be at stake. Careful, Atsign Agency: the past is watching.

__

Title: future site of something Better [a fabulous killjoys au] (Restricted) Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48146797/chapters/121412023 Fandom: Dream SMP Author: hallmarked_error Relationships: Jack Manifold & TommyInnit, Ranboo & TommyInnit, Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Phil Watson, Jschlatt & Wilbur Soot Characters: Tommyinnit, Technoblade, Philza, Wilbur Soot, Jack Manifold, Ranboo, Tubbo Length of the work: 54,020 words Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, AU, Found Family, Post-Apocalyptic AU Type: Fic Summary: a fabulous killjoys au featuring the cast of the dsmp (plus a few others thrown in for good measure), inspired by the concept album by mcr and the comics by gerard way.

__

Title: Last of Us + Tntduo Link: here Fandom: Dream SMP Author: ashthefrogprin Relationships: Quackity/Wilbur Characters: Quackity, Wilbur Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, AU, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Apocalyptic AU, Romance, Slow Burn Type: Art Summary: A series of images depicting quackbur in a The Last of Us AU, followed by a brief summary of a few scenes the artist was imagining. Wilbur has a shotgun; Quackity has an axe. They're both traveling across the country together trying to find a safe harbor with other survivors-- and, as it turns out, being in close quarters with someone during life-threatening situations means the two of you tend to bond. Odd thing, that.

__

Title: Just the Two of Us  Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45549838/chapters/114615043 Fandom: Dream SMP Author: eepyvoid Relationships: Philza & Tommyinnit Characters: Philza & TommyInnit  Length of the work: 6,675 words Genre: Angst, Dark Fic, Found Family, Post-Apocalyptic AU Type: Fic Summary: As the world descended into zombie apocalypse driven madness, the number of living people was cut in third - two of those people being Philza Minecraft, an infamous criminal who was wanted by everyone for all the wrong reasons, and a small former 'lab rat' kid, TommyInnit, a small and scared child being free for the first time. The two meet, and team up, both not sure how mere friendship looks like. Or, Two traumatized blondes bonding over their shared lack of other people to trust in their life, under the looming threat of the zombie apocalypse.

[orbillusion]

An SCU x Qsmp AU crossover thing has been rotating in my brain ever since I rewatched the apocalypse 100 days.

Like just imagine, Charlie just pushed Tommy into the lava, and he's ready to give up. He's completed the 100 days. His friends are alive (except for Condi, rip world hopping scientist man), and well, and they can take care of themselves. He's done all he could. He completed his goal.

He threw everything he owned into the lava. He was ready to give up. He walks to the hoard of zombies, "Come and get me!" He says as the zombies crowd him. He stares at Schlatt as he is mauled alive by the undead.

But Schlatt doesn't look disappointed. Why? Why is he not disappointed? Why was he grinning?

And then Charlie wakes up just outside the train everyone arrived to the island in. Bruised, wounded, and bloodied. He looks around and he realizes, this isn't the right world.

Cue traumatized af Slimecicle being told to raise and egg with ElMariana then go crazy when said egg died because holy fuck maybe I can get attached to something and not fear losing it for once. Cue Wizzly's famous word, "Sike"

[espresso-lessdepresso]

so.... i saw that you were interested in apocalypse au schlatt....

(may have written some things previously, but i have no idea where to take the plot so i sorta gave up after two chapters. feel free to extend it or use it or whatever, or ignore it. I don't care lmfao)

_____

You’d always assumed that the end of the world would be quick.

That everything would all be gone in an instant, a big flash of light as the sun blew up, no pain, no nothing. Just gone .

Not this. 

Your baseball bat smashes against the skull of the creature in front of you, splattering bits of rotted brain and blood across the cracked pavement. The heavy scent of iron and the sickly smell of death linger in your nose, making it wrinkle in disgust. Ew . 

You bring the baseball bat back down to your side, rubbing the access gore off of the wood against the dying grass. 

The pavement stretches out ahead of you, splattered with the remains of what once were other people, other humans. Multilevel buildings line the sides of the road, windows broken and falling apart from the first wave of panic that had hit the city, when word had just gotten out. 

Zombies. 

Something out of a dystopian novel, or the plot of several TV shows and movies. It had seemed like a joke at first, the news telling us that “ everything was fine” and that “It was all under control”. 

It wasn't. 

After people started to realise that something was very, very, wrong was the moment the panic had started- grocery store shelves emptied, rioting, looting, and more. 

And now you’re here .

Releasing all you pent up anger on the undead, walking corpses. They aren’t very smart, either. Slow, clumsy, easy to distract and fight. It was a wonder how anyone had died to them, honestly. 

Scratch that. You did.

The memories of animalistic shrieks haunted your nightmares as you slept, always the same. Never changing. 

Back to the present- 

You peer through the grimy broken glass of a store front, spotting the familiar fallen shelving and trash that covers the floor. There didn’t appear to be any remaining food, but it was always better to be safe rather then sorry, so you carefully headed into the dilapidated building. 

Obviously it was completely looted, but food was getting more and more scarce, to the point of this - going through each store methodically to find any last remaining food. 

A pack of gum, a chocolate bar, and a snack sized bag of chips. They all go into the backpack slung against your back. You leave the building, heading towards the next, satisfied with what you had collected. 

The next building was an apartment building- usually a hit or miss, dead bodies cluttering the halls alongside the undead, but the reward could be plentiful.

You creep through the parking lot, abandoned cars smashed and destroyed  creating a graveyard of attempted escapees- their bodies re animated  only to slowly rot away. 

The zombies are dealt with rather easily as you enter the building, stepping past what once had been the reception desk and the decrepit elevator, moving to climb a set of cement stairs. 

The first door opens up into a hallway with rows of doors on either side, not a single sound besides your footsteps as you wander down the hall. You pause in front of a random door, the glint of metal shining in the beam of the flashlight. You move closer in fascination, spotting a solid three extra padlocks attached to the side of a door covered in different coloured sheets of metal. So much for being inconspicuous…

You swing your backpack off of your back and unzip it, pulling out a pair of bolt cutters. Moving in closer to the door, you slide the bolt cutters around the first lock, and with some straining and a grunt the lock is broken. 

Once all three locks have been taken care of, you toss the now ruined locks out of the way. The door is now slightly ajar, leaving you feeling apprehensive at the thought of opening the door now. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea..

Oh well.

You've already cut through the locks; what was the worst that could happen? And with that thought you push the door open, baseball bat at the ready.

There was no one. 

And not much that you could use, either. Just the remaining odds and ends of a family long dead, trash piled in the corners. The next room was even more strange- a few food items laid out amidst the wreckage that you quickly scoop up, shoving them next to the other things you had found, and moving on to a bedroom. 

And that's when you find it; The motherload.  

“ Holy shit.”

You whisper, in awe of the amount of things stacked in the room- non peroshible foods, bottles of water, weapons- 

You first attack the food, filling the remaining space in your bag with canned chilli, vegetables, and whatever else you could get your hands on. The place you called home had more then enough water, so you didn’t need the bottles, and next up was the weapons. 

Of course, you had the baseball bat that you had used ever since the apocalypse started, but you didn’t really have anything else besides random kitchen knives and such that you had found. Whoever had created this stash had everything. The first thing you spotted was a black switchblade- perfect. You turned it over in your hand, feeling a grove in the metal. Curiosity got the best of you, and hesitantly you pressed it, dropping it in shock when the blade shot out of one side. 

You bend down to pick it up again, and that's when everything goes to shit . 

From behind you comes the click of a gun, and a voice speaks out. 

"Step back." 

____

(that was like half the first chapter, sorry for the long message. i also have the apocalypse schlatt brainworms)

i can send the rest, if you'd like. i have it posted on ao3 but i was sorta nervous to send it off anon lmfao

anon you have no idea what you've just done to me/pos

this is feeding into the apocalypse au SO HARD I NEED TO CRANK OUT MY FIC. I had to reread this twice it's really good man. I would definitely love to read the rest of it, ill take any and all crumbs really. If you'd like, you can simply share the ao3 link in the ask and ill post it on here or add reblog thread, this deserves some kudos

[sketchy-noodles]

SCU Thoughts & What-Ifs

With the 1-year anniversary of the SCU 100-Days in a Minecraft Apocalypse video coming up, I have some tHOUGHTS. Many a thought, if you will.

So without further ado, here’s my self-indulgent SCU thoughts and what-if AUs/thoughts/scenarios that keep the brainrot going strong:

So what if SCU!Charlie actually visited SCU!Tommy after he locked him up so Tommy wouldn’t feel alone?

What if Tommy didn’t escape his prison right away and instead hung out for a day or two so he could plan and figure out how best to proceed? Would he be angry when Charlie forgot about him to tend to repairs?

What if Charlie never died at the end of the video? What if Schlatt found him just interesting enough to keep him alive?

SCU!Tommy finding Zombie!Condi later, wandering around aimlessly and taunting him. Because goddamn. If that’s not irony than what is?

What if Charlie never killed SCU!Tommy during their final confrontation and instead reached a peaceful conclusion? After all, they were “friends” once, weren’t they? (Peaceful Ending)

SCU!Charlie giving Tommy a home and taking him back to his base with him after Day 100.

Charlie having to hide Tommy from Florida Man and the others so that nobody ends up trying to kill each other.

When Florida Man and Ronald leave the base for long periods of time to go exploring (they do it a lot), Charlie takes Tommy into the base with him (Wizzly basically spends all of his time in his wizard tower so it’s not an issue). Tommy insists that Charlie lock the door to his bedroom at night just in case. Charlie finds him in the morning snuggled up all warm and toasty with all of the cows in their pen.

Tommy disappearing for several days/weeks on end but he always comes back to visit Charlie’s base. Usually with a half-hearted attempt to kill the guy.

SCU!Tommy and SCU!Charlie going “grocery shopping” and picking up a bunch of stuff from the local convenience stores and malls that have been abandoned (things like toothbrushes and toothpaste, blankets, puzzles, toys, art stuff, just all sorts of random things that Charlie just goes and picks up to help Tommy feel more comfortable).

Charlie slowly figuring out how to cook/bake (with Florida Man’s help. I just think he’d be good at baking. It’s the vibes) and making cookies for Tommy which he almost likes more than the rotting flesh he’s always carrying around.

Also yes. Florida Man cooks. Florida Man bakes. He’s amazing at it.

Charlie being careful to try to not kill any zombies in front of Tommy if he can help it and Tommy being a lot more willing to rip his brethren apart if they try to attack Charlie.

Imagining Tommy and Charlie reconciling in the other dimension and realizing that they’re stuck. They prep themselves to fight the incoming hoard and suddenly they’re yEETED back to their dimension. The first thing they see when they come to is the lab and a smug-looking Schlatt leaning against the lever.

Tommy finding Zombie!Condi again after Day 100 and bringing him back to the base like “HEY CHARLIE LOOK WHO I FOUND!!!!!” And Charlie just screams.

After Day 100, Tommy being super clingy for the first few days/weeks. He literally won’t let Charlie leave his sight or patrol without him. He forces Charlie to hold his hand a lot so he can make sure that Charlie isn’t going anywhere.

Tommy still wanting to kill Charlie and hurt him even after Day 100, but also not wanting to lose the one person who actually gave a shit about him enough to try to keep him around.

Tommy setting up all sorts of deadly pranks and traps around the base for Charlie & Co. to set off. Imagining him laughing his ass off from wherever he’s perched while he watches them struggle and try not to freaking die.

Tommy establishing himself as a “threat” to Charlie & Co. but also allowing Charlie to see his more vulnerable child-like side when the two of them are alone.

It’s like keeping a lion as a pet. It’s going to try to bite you and scratch you, and it probably doesn’t care about you much outside of seeing you as the source of its food. This creature is not domesticated. This is a wild animal and it is dangerous. If it wanted you dead, you would be. No question about it. But there’s also softer moments where the lion will be excited to see you and want to spend time with you and it purrs and acts like a really big cat. And you can’t help but think “Awwww, cute” and you want to let your guard down. That’s SCU!Charlie & SCU!Tommy.

I have. So many thoughts about them. So. Many.

[qfitpac]

19. favorite fanfiction(s)

This is really just so I can add to my tbr LMAO

Ooh this is a hard one actually, I don't read much qsmp fanfiction. Everying in the fitpac tag is awesome (not biased at all), starhalo and starcicle tags are also great (also completely unbiased). The celltw ppl have some AMAZING fics but avoid if you're squeamish around gore or unhealthy relationships. (specific fics under bcuz this ended up long lmao)

Definitely check out this roier/mariana fic by my lovely friend molly halftheway and also their ongoing work, 4 guys 1 car (not the actual title)

Also taking the opportunity to plug my own favorite fics: this roier/slimecicle/mariana series that I love to death, this slimecicle/etoiles fic that made ppl like me (/hj), and this starhalo fic I'm extremely proud of

I mostly write fanfic (looking through, I've written 27 for qsmp which is INSANE) so between that, work, and fucking 8 hour streams I haven't been reading much at all. Actually, if u have any recs pls lmk lmao.

Also bcuz I can, these are my two favorite fics in the entire world. (disclaimer that they're both rpf so avoid if ur not into that).

These fics like, SHOOK me. I think about them unprompted to this day, and I first read them back in like 2020. The second one in particular sparked such a visceral reaction in me. I think I died.

This one is an apocalypse lunch club au. I don't know any of these people except slimecicle and vaguely schlatt and Ted, but god the ending makes me cry every time. (Also cmc is not in it)

This one. God. This one. I can never read it again because I'll get nightmares but I'll never stop thinking about it. It's set in a haunted mansion (warning for horror, blood, abuse, and a lot of relived death, def heed the tags) and it's SO good. It honestly rewired my brain, I've never had such a gut reaction. Even thinking the title makes me tense a little in my gut. It's an EXO fic but it's so AU that you really don't need to know the ppl in it. I HIGHLY recommend if you think you can stomach it. I need more people to read this fic and talk to me about it.

[gibsongirled]

the fall.

description: guarded and left jaded by the apocalypse, schlatt is tasked to accompany a rather upbeat scientist across the united states to help create a cure that just might save the world. along the road, the two find out that they're not that different from each other after all. they were just two people who somehow found each other in this post-apocalyptic world.

warnings: sunshine and grumpy trope, apocalypse au, very loosely based off ‘the last of us’, angst, slow burn, mentions of blood and death (not schlatt or reader), mischaracterization of us states (because i'm NOT american), i THINK that's all (lmk if i missed anything).

a/n: this wasn't supposed to be the first series that i post, but we're rolling with it.

the fall

the scientist

the two strangers

the reintroduction

the house

the hospital

[dreamsclock]

How do you feel about Discduo Mentor/mentee au's? Or as brothers?

i fucking LOVE them. i think because we’ve seen so many times where dream coaches or helps tommy with mcc / youtube stuff that i can’t help but love it when it spills into characters too — aus about cdiskduo pre-war, where cdream helped ctommy improve his aim with a bow only for ctommy to freeze up when it’s cdream he’s aiming against in the revolution…… aus where cdiskduo form an alliance after all hope seems lost on the server, because of time travel or egg stuff or c!schlatt’s rule or whatever…… aus where they grew up as brothers, distant but fiercely protective, only for that to sour as they grow older and into themselves….

i love those canon divergent aus but also the whole aus. zombie apocalypse aus. percy jackson aus. anything that sees c!diskduo teaming or c!dream as a mentor figure leaves me VERY happy lol

[publishedwhores]

I read a fic MONTHS ago that was a zombie apocalypse au schlatt/reader (slow-ish burn? nsfw size kink stuff was in the tags I'm frothing at the mouth) and it only has 2 chapters and I think about it everyday (i fear the author will never update it) and it got me thinking an au that's based on DayZ would be so good like it's his favorite game (he's so hot when he plays that game) and like if you teamed up with him he could be all protective or whatever... idk this isn't very specific but every now and then I remember that fic and I'm devastated that it hasn't returned - 🌪️

i have been wanting to write an apocalypse au for sooo long (i’m a whore for writing fics based on songs and albums and i’ve had the idea to write an apocalypse fic based on the american idiot album by green day for literally years) and schlatt would be so perfect for that type of au 😩 i haven’t watched anyone play dayz but i did just finish watching the last of us and my brain is going brrrrr overprotective schlatt would very much give joel miller energy

- judah 👾