#if all the zombies of the apocalypse look like me i think i'll be fine with them in the end | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 2 years

Note

ZOMBIE AU YES steve and you but reluctant allies - forced to travel together and when you get stuck in a tight spot, you fully believe he's going to leave you behind. but steve does what he does best, he comes back

tysm for ur request! reluctant friends to lovers arc starts now. tw for zombie typical gore, violence + apocalypse struggles (near enoigh starvation, weight loss, isolation) this got longer than it was meant to

It's not that you don't like Steve. Though maybe that's what he thinks. He doesn't seem to like you all that much.

Steve Harrington is pretty. He's a pretty boy. You hadn't expected him to be able to fight or defend, or even run all that fast. He'd proved you wrong on each account eventually — "I ran track, idiot," — but the reluctance of your pairing has remained.

You can't like everyone. You and Steve simply don't fit. You didn't in high school and you don't now, and you know in reality that he doesn't like you. Not really. He tolerates you and he shares with you because you have more chance of surviving together than apart.

He searches the waste of Indiana for his friends. You follow. You have nothing else to do.

You're scouring for supplies in a mall not unlike the Starcourt in Hawkins. You imagine it's as desolate and derelict as this one. Escalators frozen in time, storefronts destroyed by time. Dangerous. There's a thousand places for a zombie to be dwelling. They aren't good at hiding, obviously, but you're also not good at finding them. Steve says you have poor observational skills.

"Yes, well, I'd hardly have any reason to need them if it weren't for the end of the world," you mutter.

"Why do you talk like that?"

"Like what?" you ask with a scowl.

"Like- like a rich girl. A really rich girl."

"I don't sound anything like you."

"Weak insult based in sexism. Next."

You drop the shirt you'd been looking at. "Right, I forgot. Steve Harrington, King of Hawkins High, progressive."

He meets your gaze and smiles at you. He does this, sometimes, where he forgets he doesn't like you. Then something happens, a disagreement or an argument, and you're back to square one, Steve and his burden.

"I'm very progressive." He looks between you and the shirt he's holding, a men's cut, plain with long sleeves. It looks warm. "I think this'll fit. Come here."

You step over a fallen mannequin and let him hold the shirt to your abdomen.

"You're losing weight," he murmurs.

"Lucky me."

His hand touches your shoulder and he draws very close. "Bad news."

"I had it to lose."

"You need all the help you can get." He doesn't bother saying why. You're both more than aware of how dire the food situation is getting. If you can't find anything worth eating here, you're probably fucked. You might be fine. (You're fucked.)

You take the shirt. "Do you think it's silly to put it on now?"

"Definitely. I'll turn around."

He turns. You put your bag on the floor and quickly take off your outerwear. Your shirt smells bad because you smell worse, the strong smell of sweat no matter how much you scrub at it lingering. The fabric is imbued with a permanent odour.

New t-shirt in place, you preen at the feeling of new cotton over your skin.

"Are you done?"

"No-"

"Hurry. We need to move."

You always 'need to move'. You think Steve says it to sound cool.

You pull your clothes back on and hang your backpack from your aching shoulders. Over time, the bag feels heavier. Funny, as it's contents constantly lighten.

"We haven't found anything for you yet," you say.

Your shirt had needed replacing, it was thin and stained with a seam slowly unthreading. Steve's pants are worse. The zip is tied closed with a hair tie and the cuffs are pulling apart.

Steve reveals a pair he'd already set aside. "Tada."

"Put them on!"

"Sheesh, hold your horses."

"You could've been changing while I was. You always nag about wasting daylight."

"And leave us both defenseless. Good idea." His tone suggests a genuineness he doesn't possess.

You stand guard. Steve changes. You have that intrusive thought to turn and look at the sound of his belt unbuckling, the shucking of fabric. Intrusive, unreal. You don't look because you're not a pervert. You do, however, wonder about it. His naked legs, his thighs.

You shake your head and bite the inside of your lip to stave off bad thoughts. Stupid.

"Let's go."

Out of the clothing store and back to the walkways. You and Steve skulk with your backs to each other and some space between you, watching the open shutters for zombies or other people. You don't know which is scarier.

The mall is wrecked. Smashed glass, mysterious liquids, no electricity. Daylight streams in bright and unhindered by the huge skylights above. Nature struggles to fall in with it, but it does. Birds nest in the rafters, bugs cling to the walls. You suppress chills at the scuttling sounds of vermin and almost trip over an upended rack of stuffies outside of the toy store.

"You okay?" Steve asks. You don't know if he's looking at you, your eyes pinned on the stairwell across the way. Accidental or otherwise, making noise is a signal to the zombies that you're here.

If there's anybody here, they definitely would've heard you.

You don't answer Steve's question. He doesn't ask again.

"There's, like, a hot pretzel stand to the right," he says, intrigued.

You check what's in front of you one last time and then catch up to Steve. You'd love to take his arm, not because you think he'd let you or anything, but it's easy to miss touching people and he's right there in front of you.

"Under the shutter," he says quietly.

You crawl under and emerge in the dark. Steve joins you with his torch already in hand, flashing light quickly in all four corners of the room.

"This might be a bad idea," you whisper.

"It's okay. I doubt zombies can crawl."

"If they can?"

Predictably, Steve ignores you.

He weaves between untouched chairs and tables. You catch onto the end of his shirt and he's generous enough to pretend you haven't, the two of you making your way to the front counter. There might've been edible food behind the glass once but now it's all infested. It's disgusting.

You've seen a lot worse.

"That's gross," Steve says.

You tap the display and a dead fly falls off of the glass.

"Lift the counter?" you whisper.

You make your way to the employees only door. "Be careful," he reminds you under his breath, "be quiet. You have your knife out?"

"Got it."

He throws the door open quick and looks around. There's a walk-in freezer to the left, an old couch in the middle, and a storage area to the right. Steve again checks each corner with the flashlight, the both of you holding your breath. You're holding the knife so tightly you can feel each divot of the grip moulding your skin.

"I think we're clear."

"I think we need another torch," you mumble.

It's really scary in the dark.

"They'll have batteries somewhere," Steve says. You think he might be humouring your fear. He's likely tired of having to reassure you.

Again, you grab his shirt. It's too dark to navigate the room without him.

Steve leads you to the staff kitchenette, opening the cabinets one by one. There's mugs in one, plates in another. Untouched by dust.

He has you hold the torch while he searches through drawers of kitchen tools and equipment.

"Do you miss pretzels?" you ask.

"Mm. With the cinnamon sugar."

"You like cinnamon?"

He pushes aside what looks like an ice cube tray of all things and finds an old key. He offers it to you with a peculiar smile, as if to say What do you think that does?

"Everyone likes cinnamon," he says.

"Not everybody."

"Everybody I knew did. Robin fucking loves cinnamon. At Christmas, she'd make me take her out for warm cinnamon cookies and... frozen cokes." His tone had started soft. It ends strangled.

"Frozen cokes? In winter? Isn't that sorta weird?" you ask.

He shuts the drawer harshly and doesn't answer. Your attempt to cut the tension backfires once again with him. Who could've guessed.

The next drawer is a motherlode.

"Yes," you say, cheeks taken by a sudden smile.

There's enough batteries to power your torch for a year. Steve tears open the packet and holds a hand up without looking at you. You scramble to open your bag and pull out your torch. Bigger and heavier than his is, it illuminates larger spaces and makes for less nerve-wracking supply runs, but it eats batteries like no tomorrow.

Steve cracks open your proffered torch and loads it up with batteries. The light flickers on before he's put the closing back into place.

He shines it straight in your eyes.

"Nice," you grumble.

"Now you got your own you can quit clinging," he says. "Why don't you go look in the freezer?"

"It'll all be spoiled. There hasn't been electricity in forever."

"Might find a can of something," he says with a shrug.

"If you want me to leave you alone, just say that."

"I want you to leave me alone."

You huff and spin away. Your torch shines over the couch, an ugly mess of floral pattern that went out of fashion a decade ago but is surprisingly new for a staff room. You drop yourself into it and stare at the ceiling for a while, dust motes drifting in the ray of torch light like snowflakes. You haven't seen snow in a long enough time that you're surprised you can remember what it feels like. If you close your eyes, stick out your tongue, a cold like ice feels sharp on your taste buds.

Steve cusses to himself. You sit up and find him sucking on an injured finger.

"Need help?" you ask.

He sticks his knife into the top of a cardboard box. "What did I tell you? Go look in the freezer."

"Steve, there's not gonna be anything in there."

"I worked in a place like this before. Just look."

You roll your eyes, feel super guilty about rolling your eyes, and then roll your eyes again when he says, "Don't be lazy."

"I'm not," you defend. Your whining falls on deaf ears.

The freezer door handle is fucked. You pull and pull until your palms burn and can't get it to unlock. Changing tactics, you press all of your weight forward and feel something click like it's not supposed to. The door crashes forward and you fall to one knee with a startled shriek.

Your heart slams between your ribs. When you're trying to be hypervigilant of every small sound, every movement, every change in your environment, sudden events are like a shot of adrenaline.

You land on one hand. Your torch flickers further in the room.

"Fuck," you mutter.

"What happened?" Steve asks, his footsteps fast and moving toward you.

You scramble forward to grab the torch before he can see you've broken it. You're ashamed at your own idiocy — you burn with it, a flush of heat in your cheeks that. Steve won't lie to you to make you feel better, so if the torch is broken he's gonna call you an idiot for it.

"Nothing!" you call.

The smell hits you like a freight train. Spoiled milk. Shelves and shelves of spoiled milk and batter. You gag and throw a hand over your nose. It smells almost as bad as a zombie, and they smell like fresh hell.

"Y/N," Steve says.

You throw your eyes over your shoulder and realise the door has closed behind you. There's a sound of a jiggling door handle on the other side. From your side it doesn't move.

A sinking feeling begins.

"Steve," you say, hitting your torch against your thigh. The light flickers off completely. You gawp.

"Can you open the door?"

You push your weight against it urgently. The handle doesn't want to move.

"I can't get it," you say, panicked.

"Push it inward."

"I am!"

"Okay, alright. Hold your horses."

"Steve, it won't open."

"I heard you the first time. Don't worry. I'm gonna get it open."

You throw yourself at the door. Steve must guess from the sound. "Stop," he says, frustration seeping into his low tenor, "that's not gonna work. It's hinged inward. Stand back, okay? I'm gonna force it."

"It's dark in here," you murmur pleadingly, moving away from the door.

"What?"

Your own fast breathing echoes around you. You hit the torch with the meat of your palm and the light flickers. You hit it again and it dissapears. You shouldn't be so scared, but the door closed means your trapped and the dark feels so oppressive now. Dark means you die, because you won't see a zombie before it bites you.

You realise that there's more than one person breathing.

Or rather, an illusion of breathing. A moan.

Your blood turns to ice as you spin. Your torchlight flicker flicker flickers, illuminating the face of somebody long dead.

"Oh my god," you say. It sticks to your throat like each word has been dipped in honey. Or ichor. "Fuck, Steve! Steve!"

"What?" he shouts back, equally freaked.

One eye opens. The other remains closed. One second, you can see the open socket, half an eyeball. The next, pitch darkness filled only by the grind of clicking teeth. Your breath catches in your throat and you keen as you walk backwards, the torch shaking in your hand.

The light flicks back on with your movement.

The zombie's face appears in front of yours.

You scream and fall flat on your butt, backpack preventing you from slamming onto your back. The torch turns off. You scrabble for your knife — where the fuck is your knife? Where's your knife?

Steve hammers against the door. "What the fuck?"

"There's a fucking geek in here!" you squeal, throat tight. You can barely get the words out. The zombie can't see you in the dark but it can hear you, it can smell you, and it's footsteps draw closer, one after another.

"Steve, get me out of here!" you beg.

He doesn't answer.

"Steve?" You don't sound like yourself. You're not sure you've ever made this sound before.

Nothing.

Your hands shake hard. You can't feel them as you bring the torch into your lap. You try to find the catch in the dark. When you can't you mess with the lens, screwing it tight to the right. You feel it move in, spinning back on.

The light exposes the zombies gained distance. He towers over you and you can't speak, can't breathe, can't sob. You hold your arms in front of your face and hope it won't hurt.

The door slams open. You get pushed roughly into the zombie's legs, the breath knocked from your chest.

You crumple in on yourself.

Footsteps slide with a rubber screech over the linoleum and you search the floor for your torch, breath coming in shirt pants. Your hand closes around it and you flick the switch with little success. Broken again. You must've loosened a fuse.

"Steve," you say desperately. Please don't die.

The zombie makes a noise like retching, Steve groans in extertion and then there's a sound of wetness, a sinking. A body falls to the floor.

Silence.

You flinch as he turns on his torch and shines it in your face.

"Oh, thank god."

Steve leans down and helps you up into his arms. You struggle to catch your breath, your face pressed hard into his chest. You can't cry though you desperately want to, too busy fighting for air.

Steve holds you, hands at your back. "It's okay. You got it, dummy, just take it slow."

You nod. You can't really focus as he pulls you out of the freezer. The air noticeably changes from brain matter to plain old stale.

"I thought you-" You swallow against an aching throat. "I thought you were gonna leave me."

"Why would you think that?" Steve asks.

"I was- I-" you stammer to a halt.

Your arms move of their own accord, over his shoulders and behind. You hide your face in the crook of his neck, hot tears spreading over his skin as you pull him in close, as close as you can.

Steve's hand is slow at first, hesitant against your shoulder. Your backpack stops him from hugging you properly, but you think maybe he might try otherwise.

"I wouldn't have left you here," he says.

There's hints. Confusion, sincerity. A rawness. You can't see his face, his torch pointed up at the ceiling, only where the light kisses his brow, the bridge of his nose.

Steve let's you cling until you've caught your breath.

"Let's sit down," he says.

He encourages you onto the old couch and shoves his small torch between the cushions. You miss his touch as soon as he leaves, an anxiety at being left alone dawns like a yawning chasm between you. Your relief when he returns can't be understated: you feel like a spent, abused nerve.

Cortisol and adrenaline crash through your veins. All that's left to do is come down. Hard, when you don't feel completely safe. Haven't felt completely safe in a long time. Steve's return helps.

"Don't touch the rim. It's sharp," he says, pressing an open can into your hand.

"Steve, is this-"

He passes you a spoon. "Sure is."

You don't have the luxury of nausea. Life or death situations start to wear off quicker when you're hungry, half-starved, and after a few good mouthfuls of pudding you're starting to feel better. Not perfect, not any less afraid, but there's a door between you and the zombie's dead dead body, and a door with a chair propped under the handle between you and the rest of the world. And there's Steve, a spoon between his lips with your poor torch in hand.

"You left your knife on the table. Do you know how stupid that is?" he asks, a spoon hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Yes."

"Hm." He whacks the torch with his spoon. "Shit."

"I'm sorry."

"About the knife? You should be. You were totally defenseless."

"The torch."

He puts your torch down on the floor besides your gathered things. "Couldn't be helped."

"How'd you open the door?"

"Running start."

You sniffle and eat another spoonful of pudding. The last thing you'd eaten was half a gronala bar in the early hours of the morning when Steve had insisted you'd need your energy. It had been a year out of date and chalk in your mouth. The pudding may as well be straight molten gold for how valuable it feels.

It goes down soft. Calms your aching throat. By the time you've finished you almost feel settled. Almost.

"Steve... I'm sorry. For thinking you'd leave me. That's not fair. I mean, I know-" Why is it hard to talk to him? He's the only perosn you've had for company in God knows how long and you're still fumbling for the right thing to say. "You wouldn't do something like that to me. You have morals."

"I would do anything for my friends," he says, like he's disagreeing. "I would do anything to see them again. See them safe. Anything."

You bite your tongue. Tears sting. Hypocritical tears, because haven't you had that thought before? You'd do anything to get what you want. You'd do anything to live. Steve doesn't owe you anything.

"I didn't think you'd come back," you confess sheepishly.

"I'm always gonna come back for you."

You look up at him, finding his eyes illuminated in the dim light sweet and soft and brown.

"I want you to be safe."

"Are you saying I'm your friend?" you ask.

He glares at you. "Are we in middle school?"

"What?"

"What do you mean, what? What, I have to invite you to my birthday party or something? We need to go rollerblading together?"

"You're an asshole."

He snorts. "Asshole just saved your life."

"I didn't even wanna go in there, if you remember. I expressly said that I didn't wanna go in the freezer. It's your fault I was even in there in the first place."

"That's ridiculous. And a low blow. And fuck you."

"Not very friendly."

He laughs abruptly. It's a pretty sound, made golden by it's genuineness. Steve does sarcastic snickers and mocking chuckles, and none have ever sounded as his true laugh does now.

"I'll show you friendly," he mutters.

You raise your eyebrows. He moves enough to make the couch shift, upheaving your empty can and spoon. They fall together with a metallic clinking.

You watch mournfully. "I kind of wish I hadn't eaten it that fast. When's the last time we had sugar?"

"Don't speak too soon."

Steve shows you the stash. An entire box of pudding, enough to feed you both for a month, though the sugar might rot your teeth.

"We'll be sick of it in a week," Steve promises.

You're not so sure. Chocolate is chocolate, whether it's eaten during the zombie apocalypse or not.

more steve zombie!au

#steve harrington imagine #zombie!au #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic #steve zombie!au

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callofdudes · 1 year

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ghost x fem or gn reader headcannons of a zombie apocalypse AU??? just them trying to survive with the rest of the 141<33

This tickles a little itch in my brain, might have gotten a little carried away 😊

Ghost x reader Zombie apocalypse headcanons

You'd think in a million years no one was ready for the apocalypse. Hell most people didn't even know how it started. But it did. Cities were crumbling, rabid monsters that followed their hunger for blood anywhere it took them.

You were one of few in the grand scheme to survive. Your parents, siblings, they weren't as lucky. You had been unable to protect them at all. Though after escaping and going on the run with some spares of clothing and your father's pistol in your pocket you were soon to become aware this was your new life.

It wasn't easy having to learn to hunt in one day or find all these tactics to remain silent, undetected, all of that.

You felt alone. So alone...

That is until one day, after having spent two days out in the wilderness with not a hint of prey around and you were starving. Walking through the woods up stumbled upon a camp. A fire was lit, a small pot strung by three bundles sticks above the flame, and something delicious boiling away.

Your curiosity and hunger got the best of you and you toed into the camp. A canopy set up of sorts and some old books that looked to have been torn for fire food.

You were about to look through a cooler under the canopy when you heard the sound of a gun above. "I wouldn't do that mate."

Your eyes snapped up, looking up at the tree tops to see... A man. A large man strung up in the tree by a rather thick rope. One used by professional rock climbers and such. Perfectly sat on a thick enough tree branch to hold his weight.

"I... Apologize... I wasn't trying to- I'm just hungry."

He scrutinized you, noticing the backpack and the possibility of a weapon on you. He flicked something on the hook of his rope and hopped off the branch like it was the back of a horse and slid gracefully back down the tree.

You noticed then his mask. A chilling thing. Considering you had been around zombies the last few years, that was saying something. And my dear he was tall.

"Hungry huh? Got a group?"

You could tell he was very excited to get you out of his little set up and didn't seem to want any meddling around with outsiders. People he didn't know. And in this day, hell you could understand and respect that.

"No... Do you?"

He didn't answer, and probably wouldn't answer most of your questions by the way he was acting. However, he didn't exactly push you away either. He was more waiting for you to get the hint through your thick skull and piss off.

And yet you didn't move.

"Look, I don't work with people, you don't want to be with me. So piss off." He finally grunted, checking whatever he had boiling away.

"Sir, I understand. But I'm hungry, I have no where to go and you look like you could be a good protective companion."

"We wouldn't be companions. Extra luggage is what I call it."

"I won't bug you I promise I'll be quiet, but.... Please??"

He rolled his eyes, tearing down the canopy of the set up and shoving it down into his large duffle back. "Fine. But if you piss me off I'm dumping you at the side of the woods alright??"

You nod, slowly sitting down by the stack of books, your stomach twisting and growling painfully. He looked at you, then his food. He sighed and pulled the pot off the small fire and doused it out, finding a small spare bowl and shoved it your way.

He was surprisingly lenient. Although he was telling the truth when he told you to shut up. He didn't want to talk to you and he clearly didn't trust any part of you one bit.

He allowed you to keep your gun and you stayed out of his way. And you tagged along for any scraps of the meals he would make. Even if he clearly was not the best chef in the woods.

This continued for upwards of three months. Not much changed. You learned his name, Ghost, and he pretty much knew yours from near the start of this expedition.

He was closed off, maybe from the fact zombies were a total 65% percent of the population mark up now. Maybe something else.

Eventually though, you made a small trip at a gas station. Ghost went in to search the place while you remained near the entrance, a meat shield should anything try to get through the door. How nice of him.

You stood by the door in waiting, your little pistol ready for any threat while Simon rummaged through food inside the store. It was dead quiet outside. Not a single sound.

You were waiting patiently until you heard a clatter from inside and a loud screech. You knew that all too well.

You ran inside, your pistol at the ready but Ghost had it covered, letting the thing tear into a chip bag and shot it in the back. And then he spotted you.

"I had that." You pouted.

"Sure you did tough stuff." Ghost roughly messed with your matted hair and you were off soon after.

You were pretty much just extra baggage to him for the most part. Though he fed you, bandaged you, cleaned your wounds and made sure you were always able to defend yourself.

"You solid?"

"I have two more clips. Take them, and use them sparingly."

"We don't have all day, we cross the river by dusk and then you can rest... don't make me carry you."

But slowly his belligerently tough nature gives way to care. Slowly here and there you can point it out. The extra glances, checking you in more spots than you say it hurts just to make sure you don't have a single scratch or bruise.

Giving you extra soup or food of whatever has been made. He's strong and healthy but will ration off, having less than two meals a day has become a normality, one at all was a blessing from God, so he'd give you what he could.

And then after his scouting trip was done, he brought you back home. Simon and his small group were all ex military. I say ex military because despite the weapons there isn't much of one anymore.

He brought you back to an old military base, a barbwire fence with a buzzer stretching high and all around the base keeping it secure.

Pressing the buzzer and announcing his presence the door was opened. "Don't worry... only two of them bite." Simon teases, shifting his gun behind his back as you come inside.

He walked into one of the main areas which lead down to the barracks. Inside were three people around a small campout, a fire pit of sorts made in the middle of the living room with ash and bricks.

"Son, you're back." An older man said, standing. "And whose this??" He watched you intensely, looking you up and down.

"This is my carry-on. Dragged them through the wastes with me."

He nods, walking over to shake your hand. "John Price. Glad to see you're well and safe under Simon's care."

So that's what his name was. Simon. A lovely name.

The next to greet you was a man with a ball cap on and stern brown eyes. Looking like he was far away in though. "Kyle Garrick. Welcome to our... bunker."

The last to greet you was surprisingly a little hesitant. Johnny was the least assumed to your presence. He was all for welcoming people but the current conditions has left too many dead or gone and no one trusted.

"John MacTavish... you can call me Soap though, so you don't get me and the captain confused."

And before you knew it you were given a room in the barracks and a place at your table. They were very nice people, they gave you a job, and split the resources and news Simon brought of his last months mapping. So much had changed since they'd last really gone outside.

Overtime you grew to understand how it all worked. Gaz was a bodyguard of sorts, when you needed to go outside to fix something, get some water to filter from a river not terribly far away, he would be there. He'd go short distances with you and the others, being their back and watching their six.

Soap was more of the tinkerer. He put together traps and levers and fixed up any weapons or gear that needed repairing. He called most of it Guerilla warfare.

Price was the leader, you could tell. He had everyone under his voice and what he says went. If there was something going on outside he'd be the first one out there to see if he could take care of it alone. He went out on food and water runs sometimes as well. He is also resident cook.

And Simon, he did a bit of everything from what you saw.

Soap had managed to get the power back up briefly in the base. Somewhere a power grid was still operational that the base connected to and he got the heaters working. Even on colder when you found yourself alone with a blanket around you, you weren't alone.

Simon would watch. His sleep schedule was still on night duty mode even if they were surrounded by brick and mortar.

He'd even sit with you sometimes. The more you came out to sit in the living room the more he'd be with you. Wrapping w second blanket around you or offering you his jacket.

It was small, but it meant something, to both of you.

Ghost eventually stopped letting you come with him into the wastes. After you got hurt badly, needing a tetanus shot they didn't have, Simon didn't let you go with him. He couldn't. Not because you were weak, you know why. He's just a big softy under all that muscle toned to harsh circumstance.

So you'd wait. By the window where you could see the gate, you'd wait until you could see him coming back. One night even passing out at the window when he returned, and he delivered you gently back to your bed, wrapping you in the blankets.

And after careful consideration, a gentle, small kiss on the forehead seared by the fabric of his mask.

Over the many months and then a year you lived with them you became family. You saw how they took care of each other. When Gaz got sick it was like bees back to the queen as they flurried to help him, and you did too.

He was weak, and you didn't want him to catch anything, so you would gently sit him up.

"Here Kyle, gentle."

Kyle winced in thank you as you fed him the soup Price had made.

You couldn't help but notice also how protective Simon was of them all. If Johnny didn't like the taste of the texture of something Price had made and would refuse to eat it, Simon would help.

"Johnny, you need to eat. Try and focus on me, not the texture. At least eat it." And Johnny usually would.

"Guys... I need to run outside really quickly, you think I could take one of you??" Kyle asked while Simon was already standing, grabbing his gun and escorting Kyle outside to watch over him.

Whenever Price was handing out assignments Simon would take the bulk of the work that had to do with being outside that gated fence. If there wasn't enough food for all of you Simon would cut back so you and Price would have enough.

He genuinely cares for all of you deeply under the mask.

The playful banter as you went out on scouting missions with him when you bugged him enough to let you go increased.

The affection he was willing to take and give like a hand on the shoulder or a hug. Sometimes even inviting you to wrap your arms around him and seek his warmth while laying under the cold stars in the sky.

Whispering to you on nights you couldn't sleep. He always took night watch, no exceptions. When you couldn't fall asleep he'd whisper to you. About random things. Maybe something he did the other day or what he remembered about the world before it went to shit and how beautiful it was.

"Simon..." you whispered back, holding onto his jacket. "I'm scared." You admit, tears filling your eyes as you thought of how you might die out here. This would be the end.

Simon brought you in a little tighter, resting his chin on top of your head. "I know y/n.... I know."

Simon was scared too. In his own way. Scared for himself, but scared for you, for his team. In the end Simon is a selfless creature and you all come before him.

Your breathing slowed, relaxing. Feeling safe and protected in his arms, because you were. Simon had you, he's always got you, and he always will.

Come zombies or raiders, or manic survivalists, anything. Simon won't let it hurt his team. He won't let them hurt you. Not you. He may not say it, but looking back, he's glad he met you that day in the woods...

I do hope this is satisfactory. I had started this a bit ago and came back to it after I posted my first zombie fic. Enjoy egg folk.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #call of duty headcanons #ghost x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley headcanons #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x reader

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sachirobabe · 7 months

Text

Chapter 6

Gojo Satoru x reader

Wc: 2835

Curseless au

Summary: Amidst the zombie apocalypse, your courage shines as you not only saves lives but capture the heart of Gojo Satoru. Together with his first-year students, you all embark on a perilous journey, not only for survival but in a quest for a cure that adds a poignant layer to the unfolding romance.

<— Previous | Masterlist | Next —>

You packed as much as you could in your backpack, it was hard finding the balance between clothes and medical supplies; you never know what could happen.

Satoru somehow always finds a way to be near you, right now is no different. "Which ones should I bring?" He smiles happily, showing you two parts of socks, both having the most crazy and ugly patterns you've seen.

"Don't you think those are a little out of style, Satoru?" You raise an eyebrow at his sock choices.

"Yeah? Well I could say the same for you." He eyes what you're putting in your backpack.

"Are you suggesting we go to a mall? I hear they have great deals." You laugh, "buy one get the whole store for free."

Satoru laughs loudly, throwing his head back, his white hair going everywhere. You've started to find some of his hairs on your clothes now that you've been near him for a while. Each time you do, you return it rightfully back to him.

"C'mon, we should go get our weapons." You roll your eyes, but before you left you turned back to face him slightly, "and bring the pink ones." You point to his left hand.

He shakes his head, still chuckling to himself and throwing his backpack over one shoulder. Despite you guys planning on being gone for a few weeks, Satoru suggested everyone just bring one backpack, it was safer that way in case you all had to be running.

You meet up with Itadori who seems excited about switching out his brass knuckles for a gun. "Are you still going to use your bow?" He asks you.

"Probably not. I don't see how effective it would be, bullets are faster and quicker." You answer, your back feeling empty without your arrows.

"It would be quieter though. None of the guns here have silencers." He tells you. You only shrug, but still opt to use a gun.

It was still dark outside, with it being winter the sun arose later, that also meant it would be freezing outside. You zip up your third layer jacket, knowing you'd need it.

Shoko looks exhausted, she had a tendency to stay up late reading, last night was no different.

"Nobody's carrying you." Satoru points to her and she rolls her eyes.

"I'll be fine."

"You really should've gotten more rest. We aren't stopping until sundown." Nanami's deep voice echoing in the room. Shoko goes off into the kitchen, most likely to make some coffee for the go.

"Who's carrying the food?" You say, looking at everyone who's only carrying things in one backpack, knowing it'd be a lot of food to carry for everyone going.

"I have some granola bars and other small things, but if we want to eat, we'll need to hunt and cook it ourselves." Nanami says, "I suggest bringing your bow still, the guns scare the animals." You nod and make a mental note to grab if before leaving.

"Won't the fire we'd be cooking our food on bring attention?" Nobara asks.

"Not at night. Nobody in their right mind is out at night." Satoru answers for Nanami, wrapping a scarf around Megumi for warmth, knowing his face gets cold easily.

Everybody had chosen their guns, and were waiting at the basement door, you had quickly gone back and grabbed your bow and arrows.

"How're we gonna get let back in?" Itadori asks Maki.

"This door leads underground, We can get back in through there." She says, putting on her gloves, mentally preparing herself for the cold to hit her.

"Where is it," Megumi says, slightly muffled by his scarf.

"A little into the woods." Inumaki signs, he pauses before saying anything else, but ultimately signals he's done.

"Good enough for me." You smile and join back in, you had been practicing signing with Satoru and Inumaki while you were healing. You were getting a lot more comfortable. "Ready." You say.

Satoru leads the group, you falling somewhere in the middle to protect the younger ones, Nanami found himself in the back. It was a narrow hallway after the stairs.

You were a little claustrophobic, but this wasn't too bad, you still had a little room put your arms halfway out, but nobody could walk side by side down there.

It was cold already, your breath could be seen and you weren't even outside yet. You prayed to whoever was above that this would be a safe trip with no casualties.

Satoru signaled to stop as he opened up the door above, it took a little strength because it had been frozen, but that was no issue for him. He went up first and Megumi following after him.

After everyone was out, Nanami shut the door, making a mental note of where the door was when you'd all return. Everybody took out their flashlights, the sun was peeking on the horizon, but it'd still be awhile before you'd all be able to see.

You scoped the area around, making sure no zombies were close. Your gun was over your shoulder, but you had never shot one before. Nanami gave you the basic rundown.

The single file line that was underground had dismembered, you found yourself walking with the second-years, Nanami and Shoko leading the way and Satoru with his students.

You all kept conversations at a low volume, you were very tense. Every noise caused you to look in that direction despite nothing being there when you had looked prior.

At some point, Satoru and you had ended up behind the second and first years, time went by much faster after the sun came up, it was warming, but not enough.

"You scared?" Satoru asks.

"Not really." You answer, putting your flashlight away, calmer too now that you could see around you.

"That's good." He says, copying you and turning his flashlight off.

"I am starting to get hungry, though." You rub your stomach.

"Same here, you take a bite out of me and I'll take a bite out of you." He jokes, you roll your eyes at him and call him stupid. "I know Nanami said we would only stop to sleep, but he'd let us take a break after a while."

"Good, I know our legs will be needing it." You chuckle.

Nothing interesting had happened for the last 4 hours, occasionally you'd run into a zombie and Nanami would get rid of it then keep walking. The cold wasn't bothering anybody no more, who knew walking for hours would make you sweat.

"Let's go for another 4 hours and see how we feel." Nanami tells the entire group, Satoru extends his hand towards you to help you up and you gladly take it.

After the four hours the sun was setting, Nanami led the way to the first checkpoint to get settled into for the night.

You're unsure on how they found this place, but you're not complaining. It's in the middle of the woods, surrounded by trees which oddly makes you feel safe.

It was a little dusty inside, but everything was intact. The second years were tasked with setting up the beds and the first years did some light cleaning.

"You've got an hour or so of daylight to catch anything." Shoko tells you as she hands you a small map of the area.

"Any preferences?" You chuckle and wink at her, "You comin' Satoru?" You yell behind you.

You hear rushed footsteps and see the white haired boy, now wearing a beanie. "Aww, how cute." You pinch his cheek really hard making him frown.

"Can I shoot one?" Satoru asks as he opens the door for you both.

"Be safe." Nanami waves you two off.

"Absolutely not. You'll shoot me." You joke.

"How'd you know my plan?" He bumps into you. Your head shakes and you sigh at him. "Let's try this way." He points to your left and you both walk in that direction. "How're you feeling?"

"I feel alright, not too bad. And you?"

"Just cold." He shivers.

"You didn't have to come with me, I could've gotten Nanami or Shoko." You say, ducking under a tree branch.

"I'm offended." He says loudly and you hit him to remind him that he's scaring off the animals. "I'm better than any of them, so I figured you'd want the best."

"Cocky much?" You roll your eyes, "didn't I save the 'oh so strong one'."

"I wasn't armed." He side eyes you. "Plus I know you enjoy being around me."

"Mhm. And what gave you that idea?" You scrunch your nose.

"You're always near me."

"You follow me everywhere I go." You deadpan and he thinks for a moment, but ultimately changes the subject.

He extends his strong arm, making you huff as you run into it, he puts his finger to his lips, eyeing what's in front of him.

A fox was half behind a tree, it hadn't seen you both yet so you quickly crouch down and pull his tall self with you. Quietly you remove an arrow from your back, letting your bow fall slowly into your hands.

It was eating something it had killed, all of its attention was on it. You carefully draw your bow, slowly so it didn't make much noise, your aim was right at its head, wanting to make this quick and as painless as possible.

You let out a breath and released the arrow, the fox made a noise as it was hit and ultimately fell to the ground. Satoru was up before you were and ran as quickly as he could to finish it off.

He tied the foxes legs together to make it easier to carry. "Nice job." He praised. Then he pauses taking a good look at the fox. "What the fuck..." he whispers.

"What's wrong?" You ask worriedly.

"You hit it right in the eye." He says amazed. "You're incredible." His compliments gave you butterflies.

You took the arrow out of its eye and put it behind your back with the others. Satoru insisted on carrying the fox himself, you think he just wanted to show how strong he was. It was about 30 pounds, his guess.

Satoru tried to gloat about how he did all of the work, but nobody in their right mind believed him. Nanami was impressed, he was worried most of the animals would be dead from the zombies.

You watch from the window as Nanami chopped up some wood, you were just keeping a lookout for him in case anything happened, but Satoru had a sour look on his face.

He knew it was wrong. He quickly hid his very expressive face and stood alongside with you to see what was so interesting about Nanami.

"Oh good, now that you're keeping a lookout for him I'm gonna run to the bathroom real quick." You say and leave him.

Now he feels stupid for thinking you were just watching Nanami to see him in action. Nanami then dragged him out to help make the fire and skin the fox.

You've never had any sort of animal besides the basic ones, but fox wasn't too bad, it was bland.

"I'm still hungry." Itadori says.

"No, we have to save this." Nanami frowns.

"Please?" Itadori rubs his still growling stomach.

"I don't mind hunting, Nanami." You join in, feeling bad for Itadori.

"That's not the issue, I'm afraid that there won't be many animals left to hunt." He explains. "Go drink some water, Itadori. Fill your stomach."

Itadori sighs and does just that before getting ready for bed. Nanami kept the fire alive in the fireplace. Nobody could see smoke in the dark and especially not this far into the woods. You still suggested that somebody keep watch and he agreed.

You offered to do first watch, so you sat in the living room couch, feeling the warmth of the fire. Shoko handed you a book to read, but you had gotten some word puzzles to work on instead.

Just as you thought everyone had gone to bed, Satoru startles you as he walks into the living room with a blanket and pillow.

"What're you doing?" You frown.

"I wanted to keep you company." He smiles widely, setting his pillow up against you and lying down with his blanket, his long legs were stretched across.

"At least get some sleep." You shake your head and return to your puzzle. He mumbles something and you notice his eyes are closed. He's so exhausted, he barely sleeps every night and it catches up to him.

You hear his soft breathing, thankful that he doesn't snore like 90% of the male population. You feel yourself nodding off every once in a while, but you keep yourself busy.

Satoru had shifted in his sleep, but you paid no mind to it. Suddenly he opens his eyes and jolts awake, you're scared as he hyperventilates. You quickly make him face you and you softly tell him to breathe.

His eyes were filled with fear, this was new to you. After a few minutes he had calmed down, slumping himself onto you.

"Do you want some water?" You ask him and he silently nods. You quickly come back and hand it to him, he takes slow sips as he's still calming himself down. "Is..everything alright, Satoru?"

He nods his head, not making eye contact with you. "Yeah. Just a dream." He whispers, rubbing his eyes and feeling his cold sweat go away.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" You ask him and he immediately denies. You frown, he made you talk to him when something was wrong with you, now you are determined to get him to do the same. "What happened? Talking about it makes you feel better." You urge him.

He denies again. This time moving his head to face the wall. You take hold of his chin softly and turn him to face you, "This is my question." You demand and he shuts his eyes momentarily before talking.

"I had a bad dream." He says, almost embarrassed.

"What happened in it?" You urge him more and he shakes his head, "you can't back out of this." You say. "You made me tell you and now I expect the same."

"We all got split up and some of the students turned because of me." He says, his voice trembling a little, he told himself he was not going to cry and he was standing by it.

"That's really scary, I'm sorry Satoru. It was just a dream, nothing bad will happen to any of us." You promise. "It's okay to be upset."

"Ive been having these nightmares for a while." He admits. "Since day one of all of this."

"How often?"

"Everyday." He says. "Well—not since we've had you join us, it stopped for a little."

You nod, thinking about your next words. "I get nightmares too, it's normal. But I believe one day we'll never have them again, all of this will go back to as normal as it can get."

"That's starting to feel like this is now our new normal." He sighs.

"I know." You sink into the couch. "I don't like that you have nightmares."

"I don't like that you get panic attacks." He says.

"Nothing will happen to your students. I promise." You look into his eyes, they are half-lidded as they look down at you from the height difference.

"We'll survive." He nods.

You two were silent for a while. Satoru occasionally took sips from his water.

"Thank you." He says, "for talking to me, I do feel better."

"I told you so." You bump his shoulder lightly.

"Don't you wonder how the rest of the world is?" Satoru lays back down.

"Sometimes." You say.

"Like what are other people doing? Do they feel as hopeless as us?"

"Of course they do. I bet they have nightmares and panic attacks too." You fight the urge to play with his hair, it's really been getting long.

He hums, "You better get some sleep." He says to you.

"And what about you?"

"I won't be able to sleep after my nightmare." He sheepishly smiles and gets up from his spot to switch with you.

"Are you sure?" You say, already feeling your eyes closing as you lay on the warm pillow he left for you.

"Yes." He chuckles and throws the blanket over you, taking your seat and continuing your puzzle.

You begin to drift off, you can smell Satoru's hair off of the pillow. He smells really good. It helps you fall asleep.

Satoru notices your steady breathing and cannot resist the urge to not touch your hair. He twirls it around in his fingers for a little, not in a creepy way at all, but he finds a lot of comfort with you. He notices his heart beating a little quicker whenever he's near you.

He's really screwed now.

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falconearring · 2 years

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goood day! hope you're doing splendid

if you have the time, would you mind explaining a bit of the lore of your au so far? I'm very interesting in lot of mechanics of aus, and apart from whatever bits you've dropped about the gang and what they're upto, is there any specifics you'd like to add on as a note? this isn't about spoilers, and if doing so might reveal some then it's completely understandable!

I'm really interested in how your story progresses and if not the above, id love to hear what you think so far about it and what you think of the thoughts of people, like their interpretations if have any! thank you for taking the time for this and its completely fine if you don't want to answer

apologies if I came off as rude or too assuming, and for the rather long ask ahah

thank you again! have a great day or night ahead! take care

Hey thank you so much for dropping this in my inbox!! You taking interest warms my heart!

I'm gonna use this ask as a means to drop these headshots and notes. Below is every person who currently resides at the repurposed logging yard. They call themselves the Hermits. All of these people will appear at least once in the comic, and I'm going to do my best to include these little bits of info within the actual story too!

Other members of traffic/life smp will also appear, they just aren't associated with the group established here. So Scott, Lizzie, Jimmy, Martyn, Bigb, Scar and Grian are going to make an appearance later.

As for the setting, we're 2 years into the apocalypse at this point. There are safe guarded cities, but these places are far away from where the story is taking place. The Hermits have pretty much been living their lives completely isolated from other people as a means of keeping safe.

Weather in this universe can be a bit extreme, as the world faces an imminent climate crisis a few years before the zombies start appearing inexplicably. Space stations were in the midst of being established before the apocalypse, with hopes that humanity could reestablish itself in outer space. When it hit, much of the remaining human race was evacuated from the planet as a last ditch effort. The status of the shuttles that were sent up is unknown. The stations being set up really weren't ready to be inhabited so soon, so its kind of iffy whether or not things are going much better up there.

Early into the apocalypse, helicopters would fly overhead looking for survivors and escort them back to safe zones and launch sites. This stopped not long after though, and whether or not they're going to start looking for survivors again is unknown.

As for the zombies themselves, the 'science' behind them is beyond anyone's understanding. Upon being bitten, the body instantaneously progresses through the stages of decomposition and takes on a sickly kind of bruised look. As far as any one can tell, there is no brain activity beyond this point, but the bodies still move inexplicably. Kind of a night of the living dead situation. Important to note that much like a human, if the heart or brain is destroyed they will die, despite not having a functioning nervous or circulatory system. I'm taking a distinctly supernatural approach to them because I just think it's cool.

I have no clue what year this is set in, but the Hermits are residing in the wilderness somewhere in Canada. I'll touch on pretty much all the above within the comic as well, but I thought there was no harm in sharing anyhow because you asked so nicely!

As for the second half, people have said a couple interesting things. Sadly I can't comment on a lot of it because it dips into spoilers! Somebody said they find it funny that Bdubs is probably freaking out while Etho is just chilling and that's absolutely spot on and made me laugh.

Thanks for such a detailed ask, anon! And thanks for your patience, I had to think about what I wanted to say ^_^ Hopefully this is what you were looking for, hope you have a fantastic day!

#asks #falconearringzombieau

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somethingsbehindyou · 1 month

Text

~~ looking for new roleplay partners ~~

Hi everyone! I'm not new to roleplaying at all, but am looking to get back into it after a little break and hoping for some new writing partners. I only write on discord!

Sorry in advance for the long post:

I'm 25f and have been roleplaying for a looong time. Please be 21+ before interacting (I will be checking and blocking if not). My availability fluctuates, but I’ll keep you in the loop and I won’t leave you in the dark for weeks.

I've been having so much inspiration recently and am dying for some new roleplays. I'm a real sucker for writing deep and complex characters, and very much enjoy writing for the plot and character development as opposed to poorly written smut just for the sake of it. NSFW / romance isn’t required if it’s not something you vibe with, or if it fits in with the rp I'm happy to write smut, or fade to black, whatever you're more comfortable with.

I like writing MxF, and MxM. I prefer writing complex male characters, but have a handful of female muses I adore writing.

I love playing multiple characters in a rp, but you're welcome to play as many or few as you like. The guys I play are pretty well thought out, with lots of depth, background, emotion, and usually a bunch of trauma (please tell me any limits in advance). All I ask is your character is not dry and impossible to work with. If you present me with an overly subby character who's lacking personality, I’ll probably drop the rp, sorry.

I prefer quality over quantity. I can get carried away and write pages upon pages, but if you can only manage a couple of good paragraphs, that's fine with me. I'll try and match your length in replies as long as they're not one liners, please.

I have a special soft spot for horror roleplays, and roleplays which have a lot of plot more than a dry romance between two characters. I don’t like playing the villain / victim trope constantly. I’m not going to write a kidnapper to a cutesy innocent character, sorry. But apart from that I’m open to pretty much anything, so if you’ve got any plots you’d like to try out please let me know and I’m sure we can work something out together.

Very few dark themes are off limits with me, which can all be discussed through DMs, but at the same time I love soft and fluffy plots just as much so please don’t be afraid to ask for anything!

Here’s some tropes which have been nagging at my brain recently:

Cannibal family x prying detective (or something equivalent)

Apocalypse (zombies, plague, etc — I’ve got so many characters to play for this)

Your characters car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and he stumbles across a shitty looking motel, my character is the receptionist but he’s a morally grey ghost who was murdered in the motel 20 years ago

Haunted house (I’m thinking we play a family, one parent and one teen / kid each kinda vibe - or a group of friends on vacation)

Pirates

1960s catholic orphanage with lots of religious trauma

1950s criminal x good girl

Victorian era - I have a thieving conman character who would love to scam your character out of everything they own

Supernatural creatures: vampires / werewolves / sirens (mixed with small town vibes?)

WW2 - I’ve got a couple of injured soldiers to pair with a sweet lil nurse

1930s outlaws

Stripper x gang member

Killer x cop

I’m rambling on now, but I’m open to a lot and would love to hear any thoughts or ideas you have. This is my new account so please message me if you’re interested because I don’t want to get shadow banned, but if not leave a like and I’ll reach out as soon as I can, I might just be a bit slower.

If you’ve read this far, thank you! Please don’t hesitate to reach out with any questions or ideas or anything at all really. 🌸

#1x1 #1x1 rp #1x1 rp search #discord rp #roleplay #rp #1x1 roleplay #discord 1x1

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sparkles-rule-4eva · 1 year

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New chapter of the Wachowski Family One-shots is out!

I already posted it on AO3 and Wattpad but I'll share it here as well :3

The Wachowski Family-

"Going to the Pool"

Summer had been in full swing when Knuckles and Tails had first joined the Wachowski family, and even though it was beginning to wind down, school hadn't started yet, and the hot weather had yet to cool down. So, in an attempt to find something fun and together to do on a free weekend that both Tom and Maddie had off work, they decided to take the kids to the local pool for the entirety of Saturday.

When they'd called their trio together and announced the weekend plan, Tails had gotten excited and started cheering, saying things like "I saw kids go there for so long, it looks so fun, thank you guys so much!"

Knuckles had seemed interested, not excited per se, but interested in going. He'd smiled at his youngest brother's eager anticipation and decided that it would be beneficial to their bond as a tribe (which was what he'd taken to calling their family).

Meanwhile, Sonic had just stood there, silent for once, his eyes wide and . . . troubled?

As Tails flew back up the stairs, still happily rambling, Tom had knelt down beside the hedgehog. "Is everything okay, bud? You don't seem all that excited at all for this."

Sonic had tried to brush it off, insisting he was fine, that he'd just spaced out and was distracted by homework. He'd made it clear he didn't want to talk about whatever was bothering him, so Tom hadn't pushed too hard, but he privately informed Maddie about the odd situation later and asked her to help him keep an eye on their middle child.

Sonic was a good kid, a great kid. But he did have a lot of troubles from his past, troubles that were sometimes impossible to get him to talk about and help him with. And since they didn't want to force him into uncomfortable, possibly triggering conversations, they just let him know they were there for him and that he could come to them with any problem he had.

So here they were, 10 a.m. on a hot Saturday morning, pulling into the parking lot of the public pool. The boys didn't technically need swimming trunks, but they'd thought they looked cool, so they each had gotten their own pair. "Group of five, please," Tom informed the guy at the front. "All three under age 17. We'll be here till 4."

The guy glanced at the three alien boys, the younger two of which were bickering over whether or not zombies still biologically counted as humans, and chuckled. "I believe it."

While Tom paid for their visit, Maddie reached back and flicked both Sonic's and Tails's ears playfully. "Come on, guys, it's not that important. Don't argue."

"It's very important!" Sonic insisted. "What if we ended up in a zombie apocalypse one day? We'd have to know so that Tails could possibly make a cure! But like, if they're not human, then I don't think that'll work. Because . . . that would be like giving cold medicine to a . . . giraffe. Wait— do you think cold medicine would work on me and Tails? And Knuckles? What if—"

"We're in, boys!" Tom called back, cutting off Sonic's ramblings. "Let's-a go!"

Knuckles sighed. "Mother, he is copying the Italian construction worker again."

Maddie snickered, then nudged him and his brothers through the gate to the shower room for the men. "I'll see you guys on the other side."

Once they were all on said other side, Tails immediately made a beeline for the nearest bit of pool and jumped in with a whoop of glee. Knuckles smiled and followed him, calling, "I will make sure you stay safe, little fox!"

Maddie headed for the beach chairs, wanting to heat up in the direct sunlight before getting in the water. Tom was just about to follow his two newer boys in when he realized Sonic was still lingering back by the door, his arms pressed up to his chest, eyeing the water with a glint of . . . was that . . . fear in his eyes?

With a concerned frown, Tom stepped back out of the water and headed back to his kid. "You coming in, Sonic?"

The little hedgehog jumped at the sound of his name, his eyes somehow growing wider. "I— n-no . . . I'm . . . just gonna go sit with Mom, if that's okay," he mumbled, slinking uneasily along the side of the pool to where Maddie was reclining.

Tom watched him go, remembering the kid's first reaction to the pool announcement. For a kid who talked almost nonstop, getting to really know Sonic the way any parent should know their child was unbelievably hard. Basically, they only knew what he told them and what they managed to catch through observations. Tom tried to think back through all the time they'd had him, trying to find a clue to why he so obviously didn't want to be here. Had he said he didn't like the pool? Or didn't like swimming—

The memory hit him like a brick over the head, making him wonder why he hadn't thought of it before.

"I can't swim!!"

Gasping words, flailing limbs, when he'd once fallen asleep on a fishing trip and tipped out of their rowboat.

That was why he didn't want to join them. He couldn't.

But . . . they could teach him. Didn't he know he was safe with them? That they would never let him drown on their watch?

Maybe there was more to it than that.

Tom considered getting out and going to talk to Sonic about it, but he could see Maddie sitting up slightly, saying something to him. And based on Sonic's body language— knees tucked to his chest, half curled into his spiky ball, the position he got into whenever he didn't feel safe and the threat wasn't Robotnik— they weren't just discussing the weather.

So he decided to trust his wife to handle it, and went to join his other two boys.

"You're sure you don't wanna get in, hon? You look a little overheated. Especially with all your fur."

"I'm sure." Sonic's response was mumbled, almost grouchy sounding, and he wouldn't look at Maddie.

She studied him. Tom had told her a couple days prior that he'd seemed uncomfortable with the idea of the pool day, but refused to talk about it. They'd come anyway because Tails and Knuckles had wanted to do it, and Sonic hadn't asked them not to.

But now . . . he looked so miserable, and it broke Maddie's heart. With the longing way he stared at his brothers and father laughing and splashing in the water, it seemed he did want to. But for some reason he thought he couldn't.

She tried to start small and gentle with questions. "Have you ever gone swimming before? Like this, for fun?"

". . . No." His voice was muffled, words spoken into his arms and knees.

"So . . . do you know how to swim?"

He didn't say anything aloud this time, but his silence was enough of an answer.

"Because," Maddie ventured carefully, "if you don't know how, we could always teach you . . ."

"I can't—!" Sonic broke off quickly, but he'd already said enough, although Maddie wasn't sure why he thought he couldn't learn.

They sat in silence for the next minute, until she finally added, "We're not gonna force you to do anything you don't want to. We just want to help. We don't want you to be upset when everyone else is having a good time."

Again, Sonic didn't answer for a while. But after another few minutes of people-watching, he said quietly, "I don't like water."

"Yeah?"

"I really don't like water."

"Alright." He was building up to telling her something, she could tell, but she didn't ask more questions. She would let him open up in his own, comfortable timing.

"I mean, you can't run in water. Can't breathe in water."

"You're not wrong."

"And water could kill you, too. I should kno—" Again he broke off quickly, lowering his head and almost curling up completely, while Maddie slowly sat up straight.

"Hold on, sweetheart, back up." Her heart pounded in her chest, ringing in her ears in sudden anxiety. "Does that mean— have you . . . you almost drowned once?"

This round of waiting in silence was significantly more agonizing than the previous ones had been, and the fear only heightened when he finally muttered in response, "Maybe."

"W-What happened? When?" If only he knew how hard she was fighting to keep her voice calm.

At this point in the conversation, Sonic was almost completely curled into a ball, with only his nose and eyes poking out, and he was staring at nothing. His ears were flat, and his breathing sounded just a little too fast as he replied quietly, "Actually twice. Didn't make it across the ocean to the Master Emerald island. Robotnik took the Emerald and the maze collapsed. Water came in. Knuckles got pinned underwater. Tried to save him. Blacked out."

"Were you— how did you get out?"

"Knuckles."

It was . . . unlike him to be talking in such short, stunted sentences, and in such a quiet voice. It was worrying, especially when she realized he was ever so slightly trembling.

Then the worry got a whole lot worse when electric sparks started flying from his quills, and his troubled eyes started to flicker blue.

"Hey, hey, hey, honey it's okay." Maddie quickly moved just a little closer, reaching a hand towards him. "If you don't want to talk about this anymore, that's okay!"

Having noticed what was going on, Tom had scrambled to get out of the water and was hurrying towards them.

"Hey bud, what's going on?" He was trying not to sound too worried, but Maddie could hear the undertones in his voice. "Buddy? Can you talk to me?"

"I'm sorry," the boy mumbled, starting to take deep, soothing breaths the way Maddie had taught him. "I'm trying."

"We can drop the conversation, honey," Maddie reassured him. "You don't have to go in if you don't want to."

Some of the stress left Sonic's eyes as she spoke, but sparks were still flying.

"What else do you wanna talk about? Oh! Would you think vampires would count as humans?"

A tiny snort escaped him at her attempt of more fun conversation, and they counted that as a small win. "Maybe. Don't they have fangs and different blood though? Would that change them enough?"

Good, it was working. "I don't know," she laughed. "Would that mean they'd need a shot for medicine instead?"

"Probably." The blue in his eyes began to fade back to green as he relaxed. "Me and Tails should write a research paper about it later."

"Do my ears deceive me?" Tom pretended to gasp in shock. "You're saying you want to write a paper?!"

Sonic giggled a little at his father's exaggerated tone. "It'd be a fun topic. I still don't want to write papers about some politician from the 1800s who had a boring life."

"Fair." Maddie laughed, inwardly heaving a sigh of relief as the last of the sparks on him vanished.

They sat in more comfortable silence, although she was still trying to calm her racing heart at the thought of her little boy nearly drowning, not once, but twice, and not telling either of them.

Then again, that was just like him. He'd never liked to talk about the more painful parts of his life. He much preferred to live in the present, which was good and fine. They just didn't want him to be running away from his traumas instead of getting help with them.

So it was a bit of a surprise when he actually the broke the silence again a few minutes later with "How deep is the shallow part of water here?"

"It's about three feet, assuming you're not talking about the baby pool," Tom told him, and Sonic made a face at the latter half of the sentence.

"So just a little shorter than you," Maddie added.

"How can water be short?"

"Would you rather me say 'shallower than you'?"

"Ah. Yeah, no."

"Uh huh."

A pause. "So . . . maybe I could . . . try. A little."

Hope lit in Maddie's chest. At the very least she'd expected him to possibly suggest learning next time they went swimming, so it wouldn't be too fast and too much at once. It was an encouragement that he was willing to try.

Again, that was just him, the way he was. He was willing to face his fears. Just like he must've done before.

"Of course," Tom replied brightly. "Try not to worry too much. We won't let anything happen to you."

Sonic smiled sheepishly. "I know."

The lessons went fairly well, even though they ended up taking up the entirety of their time there. Tails and Knuckles, much to their parents' pride and relief, were thrilled to see him edging into the water and spent most of the lessons cheering him on (in their own individual ways). It wasn't that Sonic was afraid to touch the water, it was more the feeling of being submerged that made him nervous. He hesitated after wading in to about his knees, but with a constant barrage of encouragement from his parents and brothers (plus the close presence of both Tom and Maddie on either side of him) helped him take the remaining steps until he was standing on the bottom of the shallow end.

From there, they showed him how to use his hands as scoops and paddles for propelling, how to balance that with kicking, and how to float on his back (which he actually picked up really quickly). He still panicked every now and then, mainly when he slipped underwater, but Tom or Maddie were always there to pull him back up.

As they drove home that evening, Maddie nudged Tom's arm as she heard the boys talking in the backseats.

"Did ya have fun?" Tails was asking, presumably Sonic.

Smiles crossed both of their faces as he replied with breathless excitement, "Actually, yeah! I mean, it was a little scary—" He lowered his voice for that part, although both parents still heard— "but I'm actually looking forward to next time so I can learn some more. Hey, maybe we could try swimming in the lake!"

"But there's fish," Tails argued. "Plus, that water can't be sanitary."

"It's swimming, not taking a bath. It doesn't have to be sanitary."

"Eww."

"The hedgehog is right!" Knuckles' voice piped up cheerfully. "Swimming is meant to be unsanitary! Like the fun, like you told me about the mud puddles last week!"

"Hey, shush!" Sonic's voice hissed, and Maddie snorted.

"Guess we found the culprit of the muddy footprints on the back door carpet," Tom called to the back, and the three boys collectively groaned.

"It was Tails' idea," Sonic complained.

"It was not!"

"But it was the fun!"

"You mean 'it was fun.' No 'the.'"

"C'mon, Tails, don't be the grammar police. I like his funky way of talking."

"I do not speak funky!"

Tom leaned over slightly. "Successful trip, I'd say?"

Maddie nodded, smiling. "Success for sure. No one got electrocuted, and we finally got him starting swimming lessons."

And hearing the word "funky" come from Knuckles' mouth had the rest of them laughing and giggling for the remainder of the trip home.

--------------------------------------------------

It's time to FAACE YOUR FEEAARRSS

Hope y'all enjoyed!

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hopepetal · 2 years

Note

Oh ho hooo hello hello hello! I see you are doing requests????

(I'll trade you, you do a request for me and I'll draw u something u ask me for)

Anyway I think you know who I'm going for

Scar!!! And uhhh reveal of some kind??? You pick. (I love reveals but I think you already know that anfjdjskak)

Hello there!! Here you go :D

Part two of this post!

Scar took panicked, gasping breaths as he leaned against his tree, the huge starter base he had built at the beginning of the season. His lungs ached from the strain of pulling in more and more air as Scar struggled to not have a breakdown, failing pretty badly if he was being perfectly honest.

He couldn't stop seeing it, even as he sank down against the tree and hugged his knees to his chest, sobbing loudly as he rocked back and forth. The zombies, not having been satisfied with taking his first world and first life, had snatched away his friend as well. And now he was alone again, because he hadn't been quick enough to defend Grian.

Scar remembered how they had just been jovially walking through the forest, talking and laughing and not keeping their guard up and it was all his fault. He clearly hadn't learnt his lesson from the zombie apocalypse, so now whatever higher power that was out there was punishing him–

And Grian. Grian hadn't deserved it, to be ripped apart by an undead thing. He hadn't even seen it coming, hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye before dying, dying just like everyone else Scar had ever cared for. Now he was gone and Scar would never get the chance to tell him everything he felt. He had always put it off because he had grown soft, had forgotten that time was limited and life was fleeting.

Scar wailed, tugging at his hair as he sobbed, his rocking growing more frantic. His entire body burned as he took in too much oxygen, the panic attack setting in and gripping his chest in a vice. Images of Grian flashed in his mind, sending fresh waves of grief through him. So wrapped up in his sobbing panic, Scar didn't hear his name being called until the person was right next to him.

Scar reacted instinctively, reaching for his gun sword, pulling it out as he swept the legs out from under the person zombie, putting his sword to their throat. Panting heavily, Scar faintly wondered why he hadn't gone for the kill immediately when his vision came back into focus.

“Woah, woah, Scar!” Grian, a dead man walking, was staring up at him with a slight look of concern. Not fear, like he wasn't afraid of dying with a sword at his throat.

Scar's hands trembled as he stumbled back, eyes wide. “You,” he choked out, “how are you alive? How–” He quickly examined Grian, noting the lack of wounds. “You died. You were killed by the– by the–”

Grian slowly sat up, making no move to stand. He looked very confused, but there was a gentle understanding in his eyes. “Scar, this is Hermitcraft. We die all the time here. You die all the time here. I'm perfectly fine, see?” He patted himself down with a kind smile. “No injuries. Just a wounded pride.”

Scar hesitated for a moment, before it all came crashing back. Hermitcraft. Safety, sanctuary, freedom. Living, even after death. His cheeks coloured a bright red from embarrassment as he plopped back down on the grass, letting out a soft huff. “Oh, oh gosh. Grian, I'm so sorry, I don't know...” That was a lie. He knew exactly what happened, exactly why he freaked out.

Grian stood up, moving to sit next to him. “Yeah,” he murmured, “this stuff happens, Scar. You don't need to tell me anything– we all know the rule about backgrounds here. Don't ask, don't pry, everyone has their secrets. But I just want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what.”

Scar paused. He knew Grian wasn't expecting anything. When he spoke next, it was a surprise even to him. “I was in a zombie apocalypse.”

Grian looked over at him sharply, expression turning into a mixture of concern and fear. “What?”

Now that he had started, Scar couldn't stop himself from rambling. “You know hardcore worlds? Those really scary ones– like the life series, you know? Except it was only one life, and, well–” he chuckled bitterly, shaking his head– “it was the zombie apocalypse.”

Grian listened in silence. He was clearly horrified as Scar went on about how he had fought tooth and nail to survive, scrounging for food and resources, all alone in that desolate world. At one point, when Scar's breathing hitched and his shoulders started to shake, Grian put a wing around him, helping to ground the vex next to him.

“–and then the zombies... there were too many. It just. It got to the point where me and my gun weren't enough. And, well. I took my last stand there.” Scar's eyes shone with tears. “I died there. And a part of me died with it.”

Grian recalled how Scar had famously not spoken for the longest time, only first talking to him in a voice that was raspy from disuse and absolutely beautiful. “...oh, Scar,” he murmured, selfish tears of his own beginning to fall. “Can I touch you?” Upon receiving a short nod, Grian reached out and cupped Scar's face, turning his head so their eyes met. “Thank you. Thank you so much for trusting me with this, I–” his voice trembled as he spoke, though he tried his best to keep his words steady and calm. “I'm so sorry.”

Scar shook his head, tears beginning to stream down his face. “It's– it's okay, Gri, it's all over now and–” He started crying in earnest, unable to speak through sobs.

Grian pulled Scar into a hug, wrapping his wings around his friend. “It's okay. Let it all out. I'm here for you.” Holding rightly to Scar, he murmured the two most comforting words he could. “We're alive.”

Scar wailed, holding onto Grian like he would a lifeline. “I– I–!” he gasped out, scrambling for the words he so desperately needed to say.

Grian just held him, crying himself. “It's okay. You're okay, Scar. You don't need to force yourself to talk.”

Scar shook his head, hands curling into fists to tug on Grian's jumper. “I–” he tried again, sobbing in frustration as he once again stuttered to a halt. “I– I love you!” he finally got out, and the weight on his chest was relieved. “I love you so much,” he sobbed out.

Grian let out a soft sound of surprise, before smiling through his tears. “I love you too,” he whispered, “gosh, Scar, I love you so much.”

“Thank you,” Scar sobbed, burying his face in Grian's chest. “Thank you...”

The two sat there for a long time in each other's arms, as night slowly turned to day. Eventually, the sobs died down, and Grian felt Scar relaxing and slowly falling asleep. He had exhausted himself with all the crying, and Grian smiled wearily as he gently maneuvered Scar onto his lap. Stroking the man's long brown hair, Grian watched the sunset rise.

Later, they would talk more. But for now, all they needed was rest.

#my writing #answered ask #knights of the angst table #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #scar #grian #angst #hermitcraft fanfic #tcd scar

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stonersnowyyy · 2 years

Text

I wanna be yours

quick little story about Tallahassee from zombie land, its not necessarily a x reader but it can be goes by town names main characters name is jersey, I dot really have a summer but its about the song I wanna be yours, enjoy <3

Falling in love in the apocalypse wasn't easy, you weren't supposed to love somebody when you never knew if you never knew if you'd ie another day, he fell for her fast, the first day they found her actually, names were to formal to them but calling her by her home town really suited her, Jersey worked well for her, almost to well. he had this need to be by her side and protect her.

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner, breathing in your dust.

they grew closer during the time they had with her, fighting side by side. staying up late nights while driving, she would fall asleep in the back of the truck with him when they would switch drivers, as time went on Tallahassee really felt something for this girl, he never thought it was possible.

I wanna be your ford cortina, I will never rust.

he saved her one to many times, it was something he felt like he had to do, he couldn't lose her before he got her, being in love was scary but not knowing if the person loved you back or not was scarier, he wasn't the kind of man to let his emotions show, but he was up some nights thinking about it, did she really want him or were they just friends.

if you like your coffee hot, let me be your coffee pot

she loved him more than he would know, she fell for him the minute he got out of the truck when they found her walking the interstate, she felt like she could trust trust him, something about Tallahassee drew her more into him, like a moth to the flame, he was beauty in mortal form, she wanted him to be her's forever.

you call the shots, babe, I just wanna be yours

over the months she tried to amen her feelings more apparent, going out of her way to help him or get him something he needed, Jersey would be first to tend to his wounds, always making sure he's well and taken care of, he would do the same for her, Tallahassee helped her with her aim and taught her more self defence moves.

Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought, maybe I just wanna be your's, I wanna be your's

the group started to notice the change in their relationship, the way jersey would take to him and the way Tallahassee would look at her, something about how they acted with each other verses others spoke volumes, they both wanted each other but they were both to scared to scared to make the first move, maybe time would tell.

I wanna be your's, I wanna be your's, I wanna be your's, I wanna be your's,

she almost got bit and that made Tallahassee realize they might not have forever together, he almost turned a cold shoulder to her, he still cared but stopped acting like he was in love, Columbus and Wichita helped Jersey through a lot of stuff since Tallahassee wasn't in her corner like he used to be, Jersey felt foolish, how could someone like Tallahassee love someone so basic like her.

let me be your 'leccy meter, and I'll never run out.

turning a cold shoulder to her felt wrong Tallahassee wanted nothing more then to hold her and tell her it will all be fine, he just wanted to be there for Jersey and live in domestic bliss with her, having a life in the zombie apocalypse was hard but he still wanted to try and have one with her, he just didn't want either of them to be hurt.

let me be the portable heater, that you'll get cold without.

Tallahassee tried to get back to what it used to be but it was hard, her walls were back up, he knew it was his fault he pushed her away, Tallahassee hurt Jersey trying to protect her, he learned two things that day, you can't protect somebody who doesn't want it, and that everything comes with a cost so why not risk it to feel something for once.

I wanna be your setting lotion, hold your hair in deep devotion (how deep).

it all went back to normal one night, they all had drinks at their temporary home, Jersey's true feelings slowly came out, she would lay on Tallahassee a bit more, nuzzled her face into his neck at points and hold eye contact with him with a look she never had before, she had followed him to his room that night.

at least as deep as the Pacific Ocean, now I wanna be your's.

Jersey laid on Tallahassee clearly wanting more than just cuddling but Tallahassee couldn't bring himself to do anything but hold her, he didn't want the women he loved to hook up with him while hammered, Tallahassee wanted a first with her that meant more than sex, he held her that night as they stared at each other, Tallahassee played with her hair till she fell asleep, he fell asleep with Jersey and never felt more in love.

Secrets I have held in my heart, are harder to hide than I thought, maybe I just wanna be your's.

waking up bids Tallahassee made jersey feel safe, the feeling of him gripping her hips and holding her securely against his chest made her really feel like she was in love, she didn't want it to end, the sweet feeling of bliss, but she didn't know if he felt the same, what if Tallahassee just pushed her away again when he got up.

I wanna be your's, I wanna be your's, wanna be your's, wanna be your's.

when Tallahassee did wake up he just held her and kissed the back of her head, Tallahassee didn't want to leave the bed, he wanted to stay in that moment as long as he could, jersey was the one for him, they never knew if tomorrow was promised and he didn't want to wait anymore, he wanted to call jersey his.

wanna be your's, wanna be your's, wanna be your's.

Tallahassee finally asked Jersey if she would be his and if he could her's, she said yes and they spent that morning laying together both wanting to soak in the bliss, but of course they must stay on the move you can never truly get comfortable, everything felt better now, Columbus had Wichita, Little Rock found comfort in seeing her sister happy, they all had peace, as much peace as they could get.

Wanna be your's, wanna be your's, wanna be your's.

being on the road was always a highlight, Jersey, Tallahassee, Columbus and Wichita spent time singing songs together while driving, making some up or just trying to remember songs the group used to like, it felt like they were truly a family. Jersey never thought she would find what she was looking for in a black truck on the interstate that day but it was.

I wanna be your vacuum cleaner (I wanna be your's) breathing in your dust (I wanna be your's)

they all wanted somewhere to call home, somewhere to feel safe and have relaxing days, not having to stress about the outside world unless they needed food or medical supplies, the started searching threw LA for a place to live they planned to stay together they didn't want to split up, they grew close over the months they spent together.

I wanna be your ford cortina (wanna be your's) I will never rust (wanna be your's).

after finding a home in the hills they all started to settle into a routine and normal life, Jersey and Tallahassee would be the ones to go out and collect supplies, it gave them both a rush they craved, they both wanted the feeling of freedom it brought to walk in a store grab what they want and walk out.

I just wanna be your's (wanna be your's) I just wanna be your's (wanna be your's) I just wanna be your's (wanna be your's)

Tallahassee and jersey had the peace they needed and the love they both craved, finally Tallahassee had someone who matched his energy, jersey finally had a man that let her be herself and not feel a pressure to be a perfect girl, they really were made for each other, Tallahassee had never been happier that he fell in love and stuck with the feeling, he wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

I hope you guys like it this is my first fic I've posted if you have any feed back or want any more let me know <3

#x reader #tallahassee #zombieland saga #zombie #welcome to zombieland

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legolasghosty · 11 months

Note

I’m still thinking about jatp zombie apocalypse au, so i’d love to hear thoughts on that if you’re feeling like it

Hello Anon!!! Yes, I am still thinking about it! Just had a rough school week and didn't have the spoons to respond! But here we are now!

To recap what I already said in the tags on this post, you have the guys as ghosts, as per canon, when the zombie apocalypse hits. One way or another, they happen across the zombie bodies of the guys. And clearly their souls are still totally fine, they're still ghosting around like they did before. This would indicate that zombies no longer contain the souls of the people they once were. Sooo... you don't have to feel weird about killing them. They're literally just killer meat sacks.

Headcanon time!

Okay starting off with a lovely idea that @innytoes had, ghosts would be super helpful in the apocalypse cause they can get in and out of places without getting attacked. Alex becomes the designated Grab and Go ghost, mostly because he's less likely to get sidetracked by random stuff that would take up more space than they have and serves no purpose. (But Julieeee, the stuffies looked so lonely!!!)

Julie ends up having to tell her whole family that the guys are ghosts, cause she's a terrible liar and fails at explaining how she knew that the last 5 pharmacies were infested before they even got close.

Carlos already knew of course. Ray is like, "....actually that makes a lot of sense. Okay." He has many followup questions once they reach a safehouse, but he kinda takes it in stride fairly well. Tia... probably would be freaking out, except she's already freaking out about the whole zombie situation. So she's just like, "Nope, not dealing with this right now." Full scale denial. She comes around eventually, but slowly. (More credit to Inny about Tia!)

Julie is definitely a screamer, but she's honestly pretty good at killing zombies. She's got good reflexes, and will fully swing a baseball bat at anything that moves when they're in an unknown area. She does end up swiping right through the guys several times though...

Reggie saves a stray dog when they're escaping a grocery store, and then freaks out when Ray tries to chase off the mutt that's 'following them'. Reggie gets Julie to convince her dad to let the dog stay with them. Ray is like, "Julie you don't even like dogs that much?" And Julie is like, "Well... sorry, but the literally puppy dog eyes plus Reggie's are too much. And Mando is growing on me." (Because yes, Reggie did name the dog after the Mandalorian). Mando becomes part of the gang. Tia claims to hate him cause he probably has fleas and stuff. She has also been caught by the ghosts(and the humans) slipping him food scrapes. So they all know she is lying.

Luke is lousy at fighting zombies, but his musician ear is pretty good at picking up both zombie mutterings and the distress of surviving humans. He's a great scout as long as he doesn't get distracted! Thank goodness for ghost magic and soul connections, cause Julie has to go way off the plan more than once to find him. Alex and Reggie are her backup usually. He's usually swept up in some abandoned music store or jotting down lyrics somewhere.

Okay Inny asked about the same AU, so this will be continued in another post shortly!

(Send me an AU and I'll give you 5+ headcanons about it!)

#legolas tag #legolas answers asks #jatp #jatp fanfic #jatp zombie apocalypse au

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emxisms · 1 year

Note

Hi I was just wondering if u could write a Glenn x reader with reader being hurt on a supply run? Maybe some hurt and comfort pls and thank you 🙏

"ℑ'𝔳𝔢 𝔤𝔬𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲."

Glenn Rhee x GN!reader (they/them)

Summary: Glenn and reader make their weekly supply runs. This time, reader is caught in a room full of zombies. They're cornered, with nowhere to go. Thankfully in time, Glenn is to their rescue.

Warnings: Mentions of guns, blood, violence, strong language.

You were in the middle of helping Carol sort out the crops, lining up and marking what each row will be growing. You had planted carrots, cabbage and a few other vegetables. It was hot outside, but it had to get done some time, right? You were exhausted, having stayed up all night watching out for walkers with Glenn. You and him were normally in charge of night watches, because the rest of the group was busy with whatever the hell else. You'd only gotten a couple hours of rest, you refused to let Glenn stay up alone no matter how much he protested against it. It was only a matter of time before the night rolled in, and you were back in the tower. You never really minded it much, it meant you got to spend more time with your boyfriend.

"Alright, I think everything is finished up. Thank you for all your help, sweetheart." Carol expressed her thanks, and walked away to alert Rick that the task is done. You give her a small smile before walking to the opposite side of the field, ending face-to-face with your favorite person.

"Hey, babe. Do you think you'd be up for a run today? We need some groceries, and meds. We ran out of almost everything yesterday. I totally understand if you're not up for it. I wish you'd have gotten more sleep last night." he frowned and pulled you closer to him. You smiled and came by his side.

"Yeah, I'm fine with that! As long as you're with me." you kissed his cheek, and walked away with a wave, him giving you one in return. You got to your shared cell with some other members, and gathered your things. You carried a bat, and a pistol on you. Even though it's the zombie apocalypse, you still weren't very good with guns, even after all this time. Rick wouldn't ever allow you to even hold anything bigger than a pistol, so you were normally stuck with a baseball bat, and Glenn guarding you with a rifle. You do a final pat down, making sure you had everything you needed, and make your way back to Glenn. You made sure to let Rick know on your way out, and he was okay with it.

"Hey. You ready? I've got everything I need. I cleared out my bag, so we should have enough room for everything." you announced, letting Glenn know all the updates. "Yeah, I'm as ready as you are!" he smiled and placed your stuff inside the red minivan. He entered the driver's seat, you accompanying him in the passenger's seat. He signaled to Daryl that you two were ready, and he opened up the gates.

On your way to the now abandoned shops, you wrote out a list of all the necessities. "You're so organized. If I were doing this alone, I would've just winged it, and hoped for the best." Glenn scoffed. He always adored how you did your best to keep things in their place, no matter what it took. How you tried to keep things humane, as if walkers never existed. "Well thank you! I like keeping everything in order. Plus, I would hate to miss something and for the group to not have everything we need." you suggested. Things have been super tough recently. Many people have been getting sick, and everyone is working as hard as they can to keep everybody safe. Especially Rick. He's been so stressed out with everything going on, the least you could do is cut him some slack.

Glenn pulled in to the parking lot of an old shop. The exterior walls red, with many broken windows, and automatic doors that no longer work. You grab your bag, and make sure you've still got your gun on your side. "You ready?" Glenn looks into your eyes, cocking up an eyebrow. "As ready as I'll ever be." you chuckled, and him as well. You two entered the commercial store, grabbing everything you needed as you made your way through each isle. You and Glenn had come across your fair share of walkers, but you made it through safely without a scratch to be seen. You'd turned the corner, and found a pharmacy. You whispered some 'perfects' to yourself, happy with the find. You made your way behind the counter, and claimed all the pills and medicines you needed. You were placing the last bottle in your bag, when your hand slipped. You dropped the bottle. "Fuck.." you mumbled. You were jolted aware as you heard growls coming from behind you. As you turned your head, becoming aware of your surroundings, you were met with a swarm of walkers. There had to have been at least ten or eleven. You pulled out your bat from the backside of your bag, and worked through the crowd. You managed to get through three or four until your bat started to crack, getting weaker with each hit. The walkers were getting closer, hungrier, stronger. More had come out from behind the shelves. Now, there were at most twenty. They kept coming and coming, and you ended up being backed into a corner. You kept on swinging, and screaming for help.

"Glenn!! Fuck, help! There's a swarm, hurry the fuck up!" you squealed. You pulled out your pistol, making shots into numerous heads. After three bullets were blown into the walkers' heads, you no longer heard a loud gunfire, but a faint click. You were out of ammo, and your bat had broken in half. You were helpless. Not a single sharp item by your side, and not a single sign of Glenn. "Come on, come on! What the hell?!" you were screaming at yourself. Why didn't you think to make sure you had a full gun? Where the hell is Glenn? You had too many thoughts running through your head at once, you were in a state of panic. You were kicking off walkers, them coming inches from biting your limbs. You didn't want to die, not yet. You stood up, and did your best to fight as many as possible off, breaking necks and smashing their brains into the wall. When there was only twelve to ten left, you heard shuffling and panic coming from your side. It was Glenn.

"Oh my- I'm so fucking sorry! I was stuck between two shelves and everything was piled on top of me, the ceiling collapsed- I didn't have a way out. I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, are you okay?" he was fumbling everywhere, shooting off the walkers and fighting his way to you. You were lightheaded, out of breath, sweat beads falling down your forehead. "I'm, yeah, I'm okay. It's okay Glenn." your chest was heavy, falling up and down with each breath.

"Fuck, babe. I'll never leave you again, I promise. I've got you." He cried, a tear falling from his right eye. "I'm so glad you're okay."

You kissed him, your lips pressed against his. He smiled into the affection, and picked you up. "Let's get our shit and let's leave." he carried you out of the room, holding your bag, and his. As he stepped outside, the sun beamed on your sweaty body. It was hot, but the air was refreshing. "I can walk, Glenn." you declared, but he refused. "Nope. You shouldn't have to when I'm capable of carrying you." he protested, wiping the sweat from your hairline. He put you down, and your bottom hit the cushion of the passenger seat. He placed down the supplies and now broken weapon, and turned the vehicle on. The cool air blowing against your face, drying and icing your heated, red face.

On the drive back, Glenn could not stop letting out numerous apologies, and many I Love You's. When you finally made it back to camp, Glenn immediately took you to the infirmary for your wounds. Your knuckles were bloody and red, your arms covered in scratches, and your lips bloody from biting them so hard. He made sure you were cleaned up and tended to with perfection. He never left your side, not since the incident. Not even for a moment. "Babe, I told you I'm okay. It wasn't your fault, you were in trouble too. We've learned our lesson. We won't go back." you assured him, but he was still so upset. He hated himself for leaving you alone, knowing the dangers. "I left you alone. It is my fault. If I had just stayed by your side, this wouldn't have happened." he vented. "That place was packed, I should've made sure it was safe before I let you go in." he cried into your shoulder, and you pulled him close to you, squeezing him tight, keeping him against your body. "Don't put this on yourself. We had no way of knowing for sure. It's okay, Glenn." you kissed his temple, then his cheek, and finally his lips. You pulled away, wiping his tears, and pressing your forehead against his.

"I love you, forever and always."

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