#of zombies down on them and leaving them to die | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

empresskylo · 8 months

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➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓

ZOMBIE!SIMON 'GHOST' RILEY X AFAB!READER

SUMMARY | Simon is dead. And you were forced to leave him behind as the rise of the dead took over. When you volunteer to sneak back into base to grab med supplies, you don't expect to run into Simon—alive, but certainly not himself...

WARNINGS | dead dove do not eat! this is literally smut about zombie!ghost... so... beware i suppose. gore. dub-con?? afab!reader. wc 3k

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ lock me up! send me to jail!!! i can't believe I wrote this yes i can. This is how down bad i am for Ghost, I literally wrote smut about fucking him as a zombie... someone send the authorities, i need my internet taken away. (happy oct 1st btw)

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

It had been less than two days since you lost Simon.

The image of him dying in the infirmary wing, bleeding out on the bed, was plastered behind your eyes. You saw it every waking moment and even dreamt of it during the night. You could still feel Soap’s hands squeezing your arms far too aggressively as he dragged you out of the infirmary while you cried out for Simon. You tried to claw your way to him but Soap was stronger than you by a long shot. “We have to get out of here!” he shouted at you over the cacophony of voices, people running around frantically. You let him drag you away to safety, your body limp in his hold, thinking of Simon’s dying breath.

The infirmary had promptly been boarded up, the doors all sealed tight. The breakout had begun a few weeks ago and it only just infiltrated the base. When Ghost had come back, bleeding out after a mission gone wrong, you furiously checked him for bite marks. The relief you felt when you didn’t find any was short-lived. Simon had lost a lot of blood. Too much blood. You could still see it covering your hands the days following like a wraith. You felt like his blood was still wedged under your fingernails even after scrubbing your hands violently in a bucket of water.

With the infirmary infected and the outside world gone, you had little options but to hunker down in the barracks. There were small hunting groups that would leave base and dare to edge into the city, trying to help people, and gathering resources. Ghost had been in one of those first groups to leave the safe confines of base. You wished you had begged him to stay. Pleaded with him not to go.

The lights above you flickered, the generator not the most reliable of equipment. You looked across the table to your teammates, trying to keep yourself pulled together. It was only at night that you let yourself feel the pain, crying yourself to sleep.

“We’re never gonna survive here if we don’t get that medical supplies,” Soap explained.

“It’s too dangerous, Soap. We have no idea how bad it got in there. We have no way of knowing if all the bodies left behind turned,” Price retorted, pulling off his beanie and running his hand through his hair in nerves.

“So, what then? We’re gonna send more men off to die, tryin’ to get shit from the city?”

Price closed his eyes momentarily. The bags forming under them showed just how little sleep he was getting. “We can’t risk more men. We’d be sendin’ them to their death, Soap. We don’t have the ammo to spare.”

“We don’t know that. We’re still not even sure if it's a guarantee the dead will change, or if they have to be bit.”

“It’s too–”

You cut the men off. “I can go.” Both their heads snapped in your direction. “I’m just a technician. With everything gone to shit, I haven’t been as much help as you guys have been. I can’t fight. I can’t–”

“No. We’re not riskin’ you,” Soap said sternly.

“Soap,” you breathed. “I’m the only one here that isn’t crucial to the team. And don’t argue with me. It’s just a fact. Let me go. I can sneak in and grab what we need. I’m far quieter than any of you boisterous men anyways.”

Soap breathed your name. He was worried about you. He could see the pain in your eyes after losing Simon. He was worried this was a suicide mission. And that you wanted that.

“Let me be of use,” you begged. Soap wanted to argue. So did Price. But you were right. You would be the fastest. And as much as they valued you, the remaining men couldn’t survive here without Soap or Price.

“Lass, are you sure?” Soap said finally. He wanted you to feel useful, but he didn’t want you running off and risking your life because of the pain you felt from losing Simon.

“Let me do it, Soap. Please. I need this.”

He couldn’t argue with you. He didn’t have it in him to hurt you more than you were already hurting.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

You stood in your gear, an empty backpack plastered to your back waiting to be filled with medical supplies. Price had gone over the layout of the wing with you, showing you exactly where you needed to go to get the right supplies on a map of the building.

You stood before the infirmary doors, the ones that would lead to a long, winding hall that would bring you to the center of the infirmary. Off of that were several rooms and more halls, and a surgical floor. It was a large span of space to cover, but you believed you could do this.

“Be quick about it, lass. We’ll be right here when you get back,” Soap said to you, his hand resting on your shoulder.

You took in a breath and walked up to the doors that had been unlocked, a large piece of plywood that had previously been nailed against it, removed so you could go in. Before you reached out to the door handle, you turned around and rushed into Soap’s arms. He held you tightly, your head tucked right under his chin. “Don’t you fuckin’ die on me,” he mumbled into your hair.

You pulled back and gave him a sad smile. Then you nodded at Price and faced the daunting doors again. Once you stepped through the threshold and the doors shut behind you, you could hear the plywood being put back up, a hammer nailing it in place. When you got back, you were to knock and Soap would be there waiting to let you back in.

The hall was flickering with a few overhead lights, the generator still powering a few of the rooms in this wing.

Ghost had a glazed-over expression when he rolled off his medical bed. The room around him was silent apart from the ticking of a clock in the corner. There was blood pooled all around him and dripping onto the tiled floor as he stood. He had some semblance of who he was, of what happened, but most of his thoughts were hazed over like he was stuck in a daydream.

He had walked the length of the room, a sudden craving for food hitting the pit of his stomach. Any sound made him snap in that direction, rushing towards it as if on cue. He heard banging coming from one of the med rooms, the door locked and nailed over with whatever scrap of wood they could find. More people like him were trapped behind those doors, their groaning echoing down the hall.

Ghost limped as he walked, remembering how he had been shot in his leg. He looked down at his crimson-stained pants, almost like he should be feeling pain, but he felt nothing.

Days had passed and he roamed the halls aimlessly, not even getting bored. His mind had drifted off, somewhere that wasn’t in his body, allowing him to walk around like a zombie, completely void of any logical thought.

He grumbled as he made his rounds, stuck in a time loop, walking down the flickering hall again and again, passing by bodies that had been left behind.

He hesitated when he heard something. He turned to look in the direction of the noise, intrigued. It sounded like someone had just walked blindly into a metal medical tray, knocking instruments onto the floor. His movements were fast and nimble as he approached the sound.

He froze in place when he saw you–though he didn’t know who you were at that moment. You cursed yourself for being loud but didn’t hear anything in retaliation so you figured you were safe. Your hand rested on the knife strapped to your hip anyway.

You were edging towards the main infirmary double doors, your hand touching the metal of the handle. You should go in there and get supplies, but that’s where you had last seen Simon. You didn’t have it in you to see what had become of him, his body rotting alone.

Instead, you walked down the hall and into a storage closet, oblivious to the shell of Ghost who trailed behind you.

You left the door to the storage room open to let in a few strips of light so you could see better. You hunched over and began to dig through the supplies that had been thrown all over the floor in panic.

Ghost rolled his neck as he saw you in the room, your back to him. He had a sudden urge to sink his teeth deep into your skin, to tear you to shreds. In fact, he wanted nothing more; the instinct was overpowering.

But when he got close, he could hear your voice as you mumbled to yourself, going over the list of the items you needed. You held up a pack of linens, trying to see if they were clean. “These will have to do,” you said softly, shoving them into your backpack.

A wave of familiarity surfaced inside Ghost, a strange feeling of being alive pumping through his veins. When he got to the doorframe, he could smell you. His senses heightened, the waft of your natural scent sent Ghost into a daze. He remembered—though he wasn’t sure what he was remembering. All he knew was that he recognized that smell.

His body had felt like it was in hibernation, his motors set on autopilot as he mindlessly walked down the halls. But suddenly, Ghost’s true mind was brought to the forefront. And his body craved you, though not in the way he had just moments earlier. He didn’t want to sink his teeth into your neck, he wanted to feel your warmth against him.

Ghost moved with such dexterity and silence, it was clear he was no longer human. When you stood, his arms immediately wrapped around you, eliciting a scream from your throat.

Ghost still wasn’t fully comprehending what was happening; all he knew was that his body wanted you. His hand slid up around your neck, leaving a trail of blood on your clothes. He tried to speak, but he couldn't fathom what he wanted to say. All that came out was a strangled groan.

You sputtered, trying to catch your breath as your heart raced in your chest. Ghost felt for your pulse beneath his fingertips, relishing in the way your blood pumped through your body.

You turned your head slightly, spying the man who had you trapped against the many shelves in the closet.

It was Simon.

Terror flooded your system. He didn’t look like himself. His eyes were glossed over, his pupils and iris almost unidentifiable, the entirety of his eyes were white, appearing like he was blind. The blood that had soaked his face had congealed, the rusted color running down his clothes where he was shot in the chest and leg. He looked just how you left him, and it sent a sense of terror through you.

“S-Simon?” You whispered, unsure if you were caught in a nightmare.

A groan escaped his cracked lips. You gulped. He had become one of them .

You were certain he was about to tear you apart, just as you had seen other fallen men do to your teammates. You closed your eyes, tears rushing down your cheeks as you prepared for the worst. His hands felt cold around your neck, like ice. You shivered against him. You accepted your fate—a small part of you actually wanted it. You wanted him to end you. To take you down with him. You didn't want to be alone anymore.

He nuzzled his nose against your neck and you squeezed your eyes shut, preparing for him to bite you. But it never came.

Instead, he just moved his nose against you, smelling your hair and skin. His hands were still locked tightly against you, but they began to travel across your body. You opened your eyes in shock. Ghost’s hands trailed your chest, groping you with one hand, the other sprawling over the front of your thigh and stomach. You gasped in surprise.

You felt him harden against you, something you had experienced many times before now, and the familiarity of it made your heart pound with mixed emotions. Your mind was too caught up trying to decipher what was happening to truly take the moment in.

Ghost’s cold hands slid under your black shirt, snaking their way up to your breasts, cupping each one in his hands. Your nipples immediately hardened from the iciness of his touch. He ground himself against your backside, making you close your eyes in a moment of reprieve. You got lost in the past, imagining this was how it used to be. How he had touched you so many times before.

You breathed his name and he seemed to like that, for he rolled his hips against you harder, his chest rumbling in satisfaction.

The cold of his hands left you, making you oddly yearn to have them back on your skin. His fingers traced the hem of your pants before aggressively pulling them down. He got them past the curve of your ass and turned your bodies so your hips hit the edge of a shelving unit that acted as a table. You knocked all the supplies off as Ghost pushed you down against it, using your hands to catch yourself.

Ghost shuffled with his own pants, wasting no time at all to slip himself inside you. You called out in a brief shock of pain. He held himself deep within you, his hands squeezing as he held you, his body bent over slightly, his chest flat against your back. Your own hands reached out to grab the edge of the table to help steady yourself. The searing heat of you against his frozen skin spread through him like wildfire.

Your cries ignited a flame in Ghost’s chest—the feel of your body, the sound of your gasps, the smell of your hair—felt natural, like this was exactly what he was supposed to be doing. That he was made to take you like this. That your body against him was something so ingrained in his system, that he had no choice to to let his limbs move on muscle memory.

He began to thrust inside you, your hips hitting the table with each snap of his hips. His hand snaked around your neck, the smear of blood now coating your skin. One of your hands came up to wrap around his wrist, resting it there in support.

You groaned as he rocked into you harder. The pain from his sudden intrusion had subsided, and now you were filled with a haze of rapture. A tear slid down your cheek. You were unable to process what was happening, but what you did know was that you had missed Simon more than anything and that this wasn’t real. This wouldn’t last longer than this moment in time.

Ghost’s chest rumbled in pleasure as he thrusted into you. Your walls squeezed around him and he let out a loud groan. His arm not clutching your neck wrapped around your midsection, pulling you away from the table so you were flesh against him. He held you tight, almost like he couldn’t get you close enough. That if he had his way, he’d let you make a home beneath his skin.

His hips snapped vehemently against you, his pace quickening. You moaned, your sounds coming out strangled as his cold hand held your neck. Your walls tightened around him, your climax rapidly approaching. You couldn’t quite believe that you were not only fucking your dead boyfriend, but you were going to come in record time.

You were absolutely intoxicating to him as your warmth clenched down on him, your heat something recognizable to him, and yet, the intimacy was foreign at the same time. Now that he was devoid of his usual body temperature, the warm feeling of you around him was almost painful.

When you mewled and cried under him, your walls spasaming, he drew himself to the edge right behind you. Ghost came inside you with a great urge, growling in your ear as he tried to support the two of you. You felt him fill you, the white fluid seeping out around where his cock continued to pump in and out of you. His movements became sloppy, your legs shaking, your hand clutching onto his wrist for dear life.

You couldn’t hold back the cascade of tears, finally letting them flow as Ghost slowed his pace before stopping altogether. He edged out of you, his arms hesitantly letting you go, and you immediately turned around to face him, burying your face in his chest. You sobbed as he stood there. His arms didn’t reach out and hold you like he once would. He didn’t try to comfort you like he always did so well.

But still, he just let you huddle against him, taking what you needed from him. He didn’t attack you. He didn’t try to kill you. He wasn’t himself, but he wasn’t fully gone either. You turned to look up at him, resting your chin on his chest. He looked down and you stifled a cry. His white eyes were going to be permanently burned into your mind, haunting you for eternity. His face was sullen and blanched, blood smearing all across him; fresh blood dripping slightly from his mouth.

You tentatively reached a hand up and rested it on his frozen cheek. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled. Ghost made no indication he could even hear you.

You took in a deep breath, willing yourself to do this, and stepped back. You adjusted yourself before slowly reaching down for your bag. Ghost stood and watched you, the only thing moving was the tilt of his head as he traced your movements.

You shuffled to the door, anticipating him to reach out and end this daydream, ripping you apart. But he just watched you go, his mind riddled with foggy thoughts. He wanted to tear into you, but another part of him prevented him from doing so. He wanted to grab you and hold you against him for some reason. He liked the warmth your body provided. But another part of him felt nothing at all.

He watched you leave in a stupor, his mind just barely grasping onto the image and memory of you. It’s true, he wasn’t completely gone, but he was fading fast.

You cried violently as you stumbled back to the exit. When you banged on the doors, you heard the plywood being ripped off and the doors swinging open. Soap pulled you back into the base and held you at arm's length. “What happened?” he asked desperately. You were sobbing and covered in blood.

Should you tell him? Would Soap let you return to Simon knowing he wasn’t gone? Or would they make you stay here, letting Simon slip away forever?

You suddenly regretted leaving him. You should have stayed with Simon, even if he was a shell of who he used to be. You should have waited the time out together until he fully lost himself, and you would let him take you down with him.

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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cherubfae · 3 months

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jealous slashers~!✧

With Michael, Brahms, Jason, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Vincent Sinclair, Bo Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Thomas Sawyer, Sal Fisher, & Patrick Bateman

tags: gn!reader, jealousy, creepy men, unwanted attention/touching, uggestive and mature themes, gore/blood, violence, canon typical behavior, billy x reader x stu poly, rob zombie!mikey, I know Sal isn't exactly a slasher but he's my baby and needs to be included

Alexa, play Love to Die by the Slashstreet Boys

Michael

Rest in Peace to the poor, stupid man who thought it'd be a good idea to mess with the Shape's partner, and Michael had witnessed it all. How this man shoves you into an empty alleyway, the clatter of your groceries falling. The guy doesn't get much more than a few bruises and claw marks when Michael's knife slices through the back of the man's throat, protruding from the other end in a splash of blood. The Shape watches you wipe your bloody face off, not doing much but picking up three of your four fallen bags and tugging you into his side.

Brahms

Absolutely not. Brahms is fuckin' seething from his safe space sheltered behind the walls. Heavy breathing muffled by the porcelain mask, he watches with wild eyes as some idiot decides to break into the mansion whilst you were sleeping, and proceeds to hold you at knifepoint, effectively pinning you to the bed in what little nightclothes you wore. The unwanted guest and you are certainly going to know when Brahms is upset. There's banging on the walls coming from every direction that leaves the would-be burglar panicked and you slightly more comfortable.

"You're not allowed to be here," comes the eerily childlike voice Brahms has perfected. He crawls his way out from behind the large antique mirror. "I'll make sure you never come near them again." With a sudden slam, Brahms downs the intruder with a lead pipe repeatedly bashing the object until all that remains was brain matter and gooey blood. He drops the pipe with a huff and collects you into his arms, the cool porcelain biting onto the heat of your chest.

Jason

As the protector of the surrounding forest, Jason is always watching. He's omnipotent, he sees all. He seems to know where people are at all times and he can sense when you're in distress. Your shared cabin door left ajar sends his blood boiling and his heavy footfall increasing as he approaches your home. Barging in, Jason's pale eyes lock onto you and your assailant holding you by the throat. His thunderous steps are quick, slicing through the man with his machete and proceeds to lift him up while still pierced with the blade. The man gurgles, arms weakly reaching behind him in attempts to claw at Jason. All attempts were futile. He tossed the body to the side before he gently frets over you, his large hands soothing the fingerprints tarnishing your throat.

Billy & Stu

Rather snake-like the two will wrap themselves around you (they adore your personal space) and stare down whoever else demands your attention. Billy's arm hooks around your waist and Stu wraps himself around your shoulder, tilting your chin up with a single finger. "Is this guy bothering you, baby?" Looking like a shark that's tasted blood in the water, Billy's eyes grow more wild. He's already making a mental note of who and where this guy lives. The guy raised his hands in defense backing down the more the two stared at him, walking off completely.

"We're gonna take care of him, doll," Billy promises, kissing your cheek. Stu cackles lightly, tongue sticking out. They would strike tonight.

Vincent

There's no one Vincent trusts more to watch over you when he can't than his own two brothers. He had his hands full, turning Dalton and Wade into wax people. Nick and Carly were proving to be hard to get a hold of and there was still another tourist that needed to be taken care of.

But then Bo is telling him that the person escaped and he doesn't know where you were. His two worst fears confirmed. Vincent is soon on a wild hunt, trying to find you anywhere with Bo hot on his heels. He soon locates you, passed out with a bit of blood on your head. Your eyes slowly open as he touches your cheek, catching you as you wobble into his warm embrace. He shares a look with Bo who nods.

"I've got you, brother. Keep them here with ya. Wait til I'm back, ya hear?"

Out in public, he's all cordial and kind smiles. Especially if this is an intended victim. Some random person putting the moves on his partner is a huge no-no and one Bo doesn't take lightly. That person just warranted themselves a for sure death sentence and Bo isn't feeling too kind, so perhaps he'll drag things out, yeah? Touch what's his and you got what's comin' to ya.

"Can I see, baby? That bastard leave any marks on ya?" Bo strokes your shoulders, blue eyes drifting over your frame like water. He has every intention of marking every place that person touched, no matter if you tell Bo the guy only grabbed your arm. Once he has his mind set on something, he's gonna do it.

Lester

Unlike his older twin brothers, Lester is actually pretty chill. Especially in comparison to Bo. He doesn't think much of the people he's helping get into Ambrose knowing full well it's their final destination and Vincent and Bo will take care of things as they always have. What he doesn't like is some dude making a pass at you right in front of him. Can't he see the engagement ring on your finger? It leaves a sour taste in his mouth, watching with narrowed eyes as the small group heads towards the mechanic shop in search of a fan belt.

A familiar hand on his arm calms him down instantly. He turns to you and musters a weak smile as your hands slide around his torso from behind, leaning your cheek on his shoulder. "Y'alright?" Lester nods too quickly and unconvincingly, giving you a quick kiss. "Yeah, darl', always."

Thomas

Your partner is not unlike a bear, watching with wild eyes as one of Hoyt's new catches clasps onto you, their nails digging into your arms, and pinning you to the barbed fence. The cry of pain you let out has Tommy barreling towards you, chainsaw revving to life. A deep snarl echoes behind his mask and he wastes no time cutting down the poor soul with a single swipe of his motorized saw. Tommy turns it off and picks you up in his large arms as gently as he can. With his masked cheek leaning against yours, he carries you back towards the house. Mama Luda Mae will take a good look at you.

Sal Fisher

Honestly Sal isn't one to get jealous. He's pretty level-headed and understanding in most situations. He respects your choices and he's not gonna step on any toes or do anything drastic; Sal isn't a monster. However, if he sees some guy make a creepy pass at you and clearly overstep your boundaries, he won't hesitate to swoop in, looping his arm around your shoulders. His sharp blue eyes staring at the man from behind his prosthetic mask.

"Do we have a problem here?" His voice is cold, lacking any interest in what excuse the man finds. Sal's main focus will be on you, rubbing gentle, soothing circles into your skin. His main priority is to get you away from this sicko and would totally call in reinforcements from his brother Larry if need be.

Patrick

A jealous Patrick Bateman isn't a good scenario for anyone. Especially not with his deteriorating mental state. He trusts you explicitly, with his thoughts, ideas, and recreational hobbies that most would find distasteful. So when a colleague of his gets too big for his britches and unabashedly begins to flirt with you in his presence, Patrick finds it difficult to keep his boiling bloodlust at bay. The heat of his anger is getting to his head, the fierce emotions only swelling well it's clear how uncomfortable you look in that man's company. He must see to put an end to him quickly.

|| I DON'T GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORKS TO BE REPOSTED, RESHARED, OR EDITED. TUMBLR IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT AND THE ONLY PLACE WHERE I POST MY WRITING. ALL CHARACTERS BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS, THE STORY BELONGS TO ME. || CHERUBFAE © 2024

"Are you alright, my darling? That man surely didn't know his place, did he?" Patrick places a hand at your back, guiding you out of the office party. "Let's get you home and into a nice hot bath, hmm? I'd rather not taste that swine on your lovely skin."

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luveline · 3 months

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Omg please kbd uncle Eddie:’)

dad!steve x mom!reader, 1k

“Hi, Uncle Eddie.”

Eddie rubs his hands together, holds them out in front of himself, and summons the prodigal child forward. “Bethany. Quick, give me a hug.”

Bethie walks into his waiting arms, her giggle infectious as she says, “That’s not my name.”

“Bethie,” Eddie says with a sigh. “You know my full name is Edward. Full names are nothing to be ashamed of.”

“It’s Bethie.”

She pushes the hair off of his shoulders. He smiles at her and her little hands. If someone told him ten years ago he’d be carrying Steve ‘King of Hawkins High’ Harrington’s babygirl around like a treasure he’d laugh in their face, but he loves Beth. She’s hands down his favourite Harrington, and he’s allowed to have favourites as an uncle, though the other clingers are cool too. Beth is Eddie’s favourite because she’s an underdog, and because she’s so clearly infatuated with him. They’re best friends.

He gives her a pat between the shoulders and slips down into a seat in front of the TV. There’s no signs of the other babies nor their parents; Eddie always lets himself in when he’s coming around and he doesn’t expect wait service, but a hello would be nice. “Where’s mom and dad?” he asks, setting Beth down into the seat beside him. He zeroes in on a plate of pretzels and snags a few for snacking. “You’re downstairs by yourself?”

“No! They’re in the kitchen.”

“Really? What about Ave and Dove, then?” he asks through chewing.

“Dove is napping and Ave, um, went somewhere.”

He raises his brows. “Dad took her somewhere?” He imagines Beth would tell him Avery’s run away with similar nonchalance.

“To Grandma’s. They’re going to watch a play.”

“Oh,” Eddie springs up off of the couch. “Stay here, sweetheart, I’ll just go make sure they know I’m here.”

Eddie is scared to open the door. Why is it closed? He supposed parents are deprived of one another but he doesn’t wanna see you kissing. Then again, if he does see you kissing, Steve will die of embarrassment. That’s worth it.

“Hello!” he shouts, throwing open the door.

He makes you both jump hard, Steve’s head thwacking a cabinet and your hand thrown to your chest. You almost fall on your ass where you’re kneeling by Steve’s leg. His pant leg is pushed up to the knee, and you have a tweezers in hand —Eddie frowns abruptly.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks.

“Steve has a tick, you fiend. When did you get here?”

Steve groans. “The door was locked,” he says, rubbing the back of his head.

“Not well. Just stuck my credit card in there and wham. You guys should slide the chain in if you’re gonna leave poor Bethie all by her lonesome, don’t you think?”

“Eddie, the door was locked,” Steve says. “You’re the only weirdo in Hawkins willing to break in. Plus, I still have that baseball bat in the garage.”

“Sure. Come on, sweetheart, get off the floor. Let Eddie have a stab at it.”

You laugh and pull Steve’s pants down over his shin. “It’s fine, I already got it. He might get Lyme’s now because you scared the fuck out of me–”

“Language.”

“–but I heated it up and I think I got it.” You look up with a smile. Steve pauses his pained head rubbing to beam at you lovingly.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. Or he’ll turn into a zombie, and that would make him cooler. Win win. So, dinner?” Eddie asks. “Should I go get something?”

“Nah, I made ravioli, you rude idiot. Where’s Beth?”

“I told her to stay put in case you were making out.”

Steve helps you up from your kneeling to dust you off. “Thanks for saving my life,” he sighs tiredly, kissing your cheek.

Eddie rolls his eyes and turns away. Steve should love and appreciate you, you’re awesome, but he’s also a loser and Eddie’s entitled to thinking such disparaging thoughts about his friend from time to time.

You and Steve made a kid as cool as Beth, so Steve can’t be too bad of a loser.

“Uncle Eddie?”

“Yes, my lovely sweetpea angel?” Eddie asks.

She stares at him, adorable in all her chubby-cheeked, sugary-eyed sweetness with her hands held up for another hug. Eddie leans down, says, “Daw, I can’t say no to you,” as she giggles into his hair. He strokes the top of her shoulder with his thumb. “So what’s happening? How did that painting go with mommy, did you put it in the contest?”

Steve nudges you forward with a hand on your shoulder. “He’d make a good dad, right?”

“For sure,” you say, “not as good as you, though.”

“Oh, you’re flirting with me, that’s cool… Are you free Friday night?”

“Probably gonna be pulling ticks off of some other guy's leg.”

“Oh, that’s fine, I was busy anyways.”

Beth giggles as Eddie tips her backward, a mixture of nerves and excitement that kids experience so much more than adults.

“I always expected him to just end up with a kid. Like, one night stand style,” Steve says.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. At least then he doesn’t get stuck marrying somebody he doesn’t love.”

Steve glares at you as you laugh, dragging you into his arms to smush kisses into your cheek. “Don’t even joke about that.”

“Sorry, honey. I hope Eddie gets as lucky as me someday.”

Beth begs to be put down through giggles. “I don’t know,” Steve says, resting his cheek on your temple to watch her laugh, “I don’t think Eddie has luck, just sheer force of will.”

“He’d totally get a baby in a basket on his doorstep.”

Steve mulls it over. “God, he totally would.”

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legally-allowed-to-slime · 6 months

Text

The last few people had logged off the server, leaving it in its burnt, damaged state.

She knew where Gem would be.

Cleo scaled up the ladder and clambered up to the rickety roof of Joel’s tower — where you could look out on the entire server.

Sure enough, Gem was perched on the railing, sitting on the edge with nothing to support her but the wind, staring in the direction of the Secret Keeper.

Cleo looked around at the short cobble walls. Grian had told her that he’d hid away here. Not a bad strategy, overall. You could shut yourself here and forget everywhere else existed.

“Hey, Cleo.”

“Am I that loud?” Cleo joked weakly.

“Who else?”

Cleo watched as the last remains of the green flesh flaked off Gem’s skin, leaving her regular human tones. “No more zombies now, then? Good job, anyway. Killing people left and right.”

“Not you, though.”

“Not me. Only way I’m going out is my way. I’d rather die on my own stupidity than someone else’s callousness.” Cleo allowed a hint of pride to enter her voice. “You were great zombies, though.”

“We weren’t zombies.” Gem turned and hopped down from the railing.

Cleo noticed that unlike the other zombies, or even Scott or Grian, Gem didn’t have a single scratch or injury, save one neat bandage that no doubt was due to Scar’s reckless arrows.

Which meant the blood splattering her face wasn’t her own. “What do you mean?”

“That’s not how zombies work. No offence, Cleo, but most zombies aren’t sentient.”

Cleo blinked. “No worries, I know they aren’t. I kill plenty of them at night.”

“So you should know how they work. They’re mindless. They lurch along, they kill without thinking, they probably bump into trees.”

Gem tilted her head. “They don’t set TNT traps, or betray their teammates, or ask for permission to kill their wife’s perceived murderer.”

Cleo’s mouth was dry. “So you’re saying…”

“I’m saying the apocalypse wasn’t zombies, Cleo. It was human.”

Horribly, incredibly human.

Cleo remembered when they were up on the tower, staring at the others down below, condemning them as monsters.

Somehow, it was better to think of them as a mindless horde and not people she’d been laughing and arguing with a session ago.

Gem was watching her. “You know I’m right. Look at Pearl. Was running from us, convinced we were infected or something but once she realised she had permission to kill, she went in. Even unleashed a warden, or two. That’s how quickly we switch.”

Ironically, Cleo realised, the roles had been swapped this session. The humans were chasing the zombie, but it hadn’t been any different.

“That’s not true,” Cleo said, “It’s not all bad. Did you know, Grian snuck down from this tower to check on his magma pet, and I was there too. And so was Etho. He didn’t kill us.”

Irritation flashed across Gem’s face. “He didn’t kill you? If he had, or, like, told us your location or something, we could’ve all just gone after Scott, and, and, the task would’ve succeeded…”

She trailed off, and looked at Cleo. “Is that the point you’re trying to make here?”

Cleo shrugged.

“Alright, I get it,” Gem grumbled, “No need to rub your holier-than-thou alliance and great morals in my face.”

“Well, no one asked you to put your task over your bandmates.”

Gem didn’t say anything to that.

“It’s not as if I’m exactly a paragon of morality either.” Cleo continued.

“I guess not.” Gem gave a short laugh. “Neither am I. You know, all the murder and stuff? I don’t feel bad! In fact, I feel great. I feel proud of myself for it.”

“…I feel you should be a little less bloodthirsty.”

Gem smiled at Cleo, an innocent, cheerful smile that would have been such if not for the circumstances. “Oh, no.”

Cleo was suddenly feeling very unsafe on the highest platform on the server. She wished Etho was here, or even Grian.

She knew Gem couldn’t take any lives, not now, not when the session was already over. But still…

Cleo raised her sword to stop the axe swing that came, but it was a feint, and her sword hit nothing.

Gem dramatically swung her axe back into her inventory.

“You really thought I would attack you?” Gem said.

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” Cleo retorted curtly.

“That’s true,” Gem conceded. “But the curse is just so- it’s so freeing, Cleo? Can’t you see? You could do anything.”

“Uh- no thanks. Session’s over, anyway,” Cleo pointed out.

“That’s true. But I’m still kinda cursed, you know.”

In response, Cleo warily raised her sword. But all that Gem did was deliver a mock salute before logging off with a chirpy “See you next week!”

Cleo stood silently. There had been one zombie on the platform just now. Her.

And thinking about it, she wasn’t sure if there hadn’t been two.

#concept: gem is simply evil #god forbid women do anything #oh no this story turned into that are humans good/evil thing again #that’s great i don’t care #geminitay #zombiecleo #gem centric but i did put in some cleo stuff because etho sparing his allies was so woahwhaha #secret life fanfic #secret life #secret life smp #life series #trafficblr

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lab1rynth · 1 year

Text

Yan!Zombie

Yan!Zombie who you met, alive, a few years after the Apololypse started. You both had became friends and protected each other, you had stayed in his base and ate food he found for the both of you. It felt safe, that all changed when you left for a few weeks to find more survivors. You came home to him chained up and turned, a chunk of his wrist was bitten off.

Yan!Zombie who had left you a note before he turned, telling you that he had chained himself up, how it felt as he was turning, how if you wanted to kill him you had full permission to. He just did not want to leave you without answers, so to keep you safe he chained himself up to a wall.

Yan!Zombie who immediately tried going after you when you made noise, being yanked back by the chain. His eyes were locked on yours as drool ran down his chin. It was quite weird to see a zombie that wasn't rotting like most of the others, since zombies are mostly docile unless set off my loud sounds or hungry. He may have run into a hord while scavenging.

Yan!Zombie who, after a while, calmed down and stopped trying to get out of his chains, as even in this animalistic state he could understand that no matter how much he struggled he wasn't going to get out. His eyes stayed pinned on you though, it honestly freaked you out.

Yan!Zombie who you start talking to, of course he doesn't respond, but it feels nice to pretend like he is, to pretend that your only pillar is still alive. You tell him about how he use to act when he was alive, stuff you both did together, sometimes you just told him about your day.

Yan!Zombie who you started feeding raw meat you found, you weren't just going to go out and kill survivors just to keep your zombie friend satiated, that's just wrong. You train him to not try to bite you, waving your hand in front of his face (with protective gear) and not feeding him every time he bit into the gear. It only took a few months until every time you waved your hand in front of his face he just sniffed it a few times and stared up into your eyes.

Yan!Zombie who after a while, you unchained, you had trusted him. The only thing he really did was stumble around behind you, just following you and staring at you confused when you stopped and looked back at him. Sometimes he would go missing for a few minutes then come back with a dead animal, trash, or something shiny. He'd place them in front of you and hope you'd take his gift.

Yan!Zombie who gets touchy after a while, who pokes you or rests his head on your shoulder. He pouts every time you don't pat him on the head when he gets you gifts. If you dont pay attention to him he growls at you or goes limp in the corner of the room, laying and sniffling on the floor until he gets affection.

Yan!Zombie who eats any survivors you bring to the base while your back is turned, causing you to chain him up for a few days for timeout. He whimpers and whines every time you put him in timeout, sometimes convincing you to unchain him earlier than you originally planned.

Yan!Zombie who chases off other Zombies that try to get at you, afterwards bringing you back to the base and cuddling against you, chirping and coo'ing as he lays in your arms and bathes in your scent.

Yan!Zombie who finds a box of his old clothes, sniffing it and wondering why it smelt like him. He dug through the box before finding a comfy shirt and bringing it to you so you could wear it. He would slowly give you more and more of his clothes, loving smelling his scent mixed with yours.

Yan!Zombie who is sensitive to sound, but would absolutely love to hear you talk and talk for days, you're voice reminds him of music, or of what he remembers of music. He would argue that your voice is better if he could talk!!

Yan!Zombie who will honestly die again, and again, and again for you to just be happy. He loves your smile, it makes his unbeating heart feel all tingly. With all the gifts you've accepted from him he assumes you already know he's laid claim on you! You're his and you wearing his clothes and walking with his little trinkets only proves that even more!

#male reader #x fem!reader #x female reader #x gn reader #x male reader #x male y/n #yourprettyboyswriting #x masc reader #x f reader #x female y/n #yandere #yandere writing #yandere x you #yourprettyboysposting

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ecoamerica · 1 month

Text

youtube

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The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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groguspicklejar · 7 months

Text

part 7 of zombie!ghost

Ghost was startled when Soap hugged him. the Sergeant, John MacTavish, shed a few tears upon seeing his friend again, regardless of the slight change in him. you watched them with a smile.

the two men took you and Ghost back to their base, a small cabin deep in the woods. it looked as if they weren't going to stay here for long and you wondered if you and Ghost had something to do with that.

their Captain, John Price, arrived an hour later in a small truck and he looked as weirded out as the other Sergeants by Ghost but otherwise, they were also glad to see their comrade.

Kyle offered a handshake and a cup of coffee and listens as you narrate everything down to the last detail. you left out the part about getting bitten, though, not sure if they'll believe you when you tell them that you're not infected. that you're... something else.

like Ghost.

you're glad to have the new pair of gloves. and you kept that bit of information to yourself.

"so you haven't seen others like him?" you asked, gesturing to Ghost, who sat next to you.

Gaz shakes his head. "didn't even think it was possible for the undead to be sentient."

"or for the living to walk among them." Price added. you gave him a worried look. "believe it or not, news travels fast around these parts."

you realize it must've been that last raiding party that spread the word. Soap and Gaz must've heard about it from one of them and that lead to you and Ghost being here.

"i'd like to know how that happened." the Captain prods with a gentle tone.

Ghost clutches his gun. the Sergeants tense up because of this.

normally, people don't react well to seeing a bite on anyone. with good reason. no one wants to be infected.

but with the fact that Ghost is different and you can walk through hoards of zombies without getting a single scratch on your head, you suppose they can make an exception.

your jaw clenches. "promise you won't freak out."

"we won't." Price nods.

you glance at Ghost, who looks at you. then you take a deep breath. "i was bitten a couple of months ago."

the silence that follows is deafening. your heart pounds in your chest as you hold the Captain's stare. the Sergeants glance at each other, utterly bewildered by what you'd just said.

Price leans back on his chair with a hard expression. "and you didn't turn..."

"so far." you shrug, though your movement is stiff. "i don't know if i ever will."

your hand reaches for the vecro on one glove, the one that covers the mark. immediately, Ghost's hand clasps yours. you look at him, confused, but he's staring at his Captain.

and you know that look. he's haunted. he knows what people think when they see a bite. he's had to kill people over it.

he doesn't want his team to hurt you. he doesn't want to hurt them.

"it's okay..." you whisper to him.

it takes a minute for him to let go. and you slowly remove the glove on one hand and show him the scar. your fingers were shaking as he looked at it and extended his hand. you placed yours in his and allowed him to examine it.

Gaz and Soap moved closer to observe too.

"it was... scary... those first few minutes after i was attacked." your voice becomes shaky. "Ghost didn't leave my side during that time. i waited those six hours thinking that i'll probably be killed by someone defending themselves from me, but... but when the sun came up, i was still... me."

that day still haunts your nightmares. feeling the inevitable. thinking you were going to die without really dying. some nights you see yourself tearing through flesh, sinking your teeth in people who've long since passed.

after a long moment of consideration, Price smiles as he lets go of your hand. "interesting."

"what now, Captain?" Gaz inquires once you've gone to sleep. Ghost sits by your bed, ever the sentinel.

"contact Colonel Vargas." Price says. "tell him we found what we were looking for"

"and Ghost?" Soap adds, looking at him through the crack of the door to your room.

Price considers him for a moment. the boy hasn't been himself since Ghost left. none of them were. but they held onto each other because that's what Ghost would've wanted.

but he's here now. through some sick, twisted miracle, he's still here with them. and he brought another miracle with him.

you.

you were the way forward. a spark of hope in this desolate nightmare. Price would be damned if he lets either one of you go.

"he's coming with us." he tells the boys, placing a hand on Soap's shoulder and smiles. "can't leave a man behind, can we?"

for the first time in a while, Soap grins. "'course not, Captain."

you guys didn't think i forgot about this, did you?🌚 banners by @cafekitsune Cure For Me Masterlist offer a coin to the picklejar

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peachesofteal · 8 months

Note

read dd zombie au as a horror and zombie enthusiast and I had to say this-

what if darling was bitten but somehow "immune"?

she gets bit, symptoms come in but strangely she doesn't turn. she hungers like a zombie but the thought of hurting someone brings her back.

johnny and simon are kinda happy. you're not a zombie! yay! but the blueish bite on your shoulder says otherwise. at night, they tie your hands to your waist and bind your mouth shut, but apart from sleepy shuffling and grumbling, you don't seem to want to eat them.

the bagged mre's they try to feed you make you gag unless it's suspicious patties, so they guessed you were hungry, just not enough to try to eat them.

strongly believe that johnny treats you like a child. hand feeds you your meals that you reluctantly chew on, washes your hair and braids it ( he knows you hate waking up with tangled hair ) even brushes your teeth for you. he does this because you're too weak and tired to do it yourself ( no he doesn't. he does it because he hates seeing you like this, wishes he could cure you, but he can't. so he makes sure you eat and drink. he needs you. )

simon has seen so many people die to the virus that it feels unreal to him. he's still waiting for you to suddenly snap at him. however, watching the way you stare at him and johnny like you genuinely are there, it reassures him. he tries to talk, have conversations with you, make sure you remember. he despises having to leave you, though. he feels that if he take his eyes off you for a second you might pass or turn.

by the two week mark, you're getting better. the dark circles under your eyes are fading and the hollow dent of your cheeks is getting fuller. the mre's still make you gag, but it seems you'd rather eat those than a squirrel.

there's hope, they think. but if people find out you're immune... they'll try to take you away.

you can't leave them. they'll make sure no one takes you.

BITCH (affectionately) the way this is so fucking good. I LOVE a caretaking fic (clearly) and a protective Simon and Johnny. Love the idea of them on the run, hiding you, protecting you from those who are hunting immunes. Honestly could be an entire book. This scratches my itch so well. Love your brain.

Johnny just wants to take care of you. He knows you’re still in there, knows you’d be so distraught if you realized how filthy they’d let you become, so he takes him time leading you down to the creek by the campsite. He uses one of the t shirts they’ve been using as a washcloth to sponge you clean, humming sweetly to gentle you as you flinch against the water. Your skin is starting to turn back to its normal color now, a recent development that they both feel good about, and you’ve become more sensitive to temperature, occasionally shivering against the chilled cloth. Simon keeps watch, and you watch too, tracking Johnny’s hands with sluggish eyes and a half open mouth, tongue flicking between your teeth.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re preparing to take a bit out of him-

“Just gon’ brush yer teeth, darling.” He cradles your jaw with strong fingers and your brow furrows, confused when he pops your mouth wide, the little toothbrush you packed for yourself when you evacuated lightly scrubbing across your bottom teeth.

“Be careful, Johnny.” Simon warns, but he clucks his tongue.

“She’s alright. Cannae hurt me.” He knows you wouldn’t. You already would have, at night. Already would have turned on them, ripped their jugulars free with your teeth when they slept.

But you wouldn’t. Because you’re still in there. You’re still darling.

Once he’s done, fixed your hair so that it’s up but not weighing your scalp down, ensured it’s in place how you like, he passes you to Simon so he can make dinner.

Simon walks patrol at this time, and you go with him, listlessly walking at his side.

“D’ya remember last summer, when we all went to that carnival? You were so excited. Made Johnny and I play that bloody ring game against one another. You were so chuffed, I swear I can still hear you giggling when Johnny beat me the first time.” You moaned in response, something that didn’t sound quite like words, but more positive to negative.

Something catches his eye. A deer in the woods. A doe. Sizable. He glances from you, to it.

“Darling.” He holds your shoulder, trying to jog your gaze. “Darling, I need you to stay here.” He doesn’t want to leave you, but if he can get closer, he can get a clean shot off. You stare at him, and he sighs. “Alright.”

He makes it ten meters before the brush rustles behind him, the sight of you lumbering slowly towards where he’s crouched. You’re staring past him, watching doe with a glazed over look, and he tenses.

Once you get to his side, you look down to where he’s kneeling behind a bush, and then you start to, painfully slow, crouch beside him, fingers lightly brushing against his thigh.

You look at him, and then at the deer with a grunt. The hope that blooms in his heart is infectious, and he can’t fight it. He won’t.

Weeks later, they’re on the road when they come across a group of others.

You’ve improved, greatly, but your ability to speak never came back. You can’t talk, only point and make little noises here and there, and your fine motor skills are still struggling, (Johnny is still brushing your teeth for you, and feeding you. He doesn’t complain, they both have always loved taking care of you) and your pace is very slow, like you’re sore, and always tired. Simon is careful to go easy, not wanting to do anything to stress you or make your condition worse.

The bite mark on your neck has never gone away. It’s a scar now, rough and raised flesh like a fucking beacon on your skin. They usually keep something tied to it, but for some reason on this day, you had pulled it free, and they never noticed.

But the others did.

“Is that a bite?” One of them says, and Simon tenses, positioning himself in front of you, Johnny pulling you into his chest, protective arm across your shoulders.

“No.” Simon tells them, but they don’t buy it. One them stares at you, greed dripping from his gaze.

“Heard there were immunes out there somewhere. NHS is offering a big payday for one alive. Or dead.” He licks his lips, and Simon shakes his head.

“Trust us. Ye dinnae want to do this.” Johnny calls, but the group is already staring at you like you’re worth your weight in gold.

There’s five of them, versus Simon and Johnny, but they like the odds.

They’ve got bullets in three before you even realize what’s happening, Simon’s blade buried in the flesh of another’s neck in a flash, Johnny pressing his weight into the last one on the ground.

“He’ll tell others.” He spits over his shoulder, and Simon nods.

He will. And they can’t allow that. Can’t allow anyone to know about you.

The last thing the man sees is Johnny’s hands around his neck, and you watching half interested over his shoulder, half bored.

#peaches asks #peaches writes #dead disco zombie au

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n1ghtfurys · 23 days

Text

Apocalypse with König

Part 1: Word count: 9475

There's a little bit of gore, mentions kidnapping, weight loss due to lack of food

You'd found him on the road.You'd been planning on making it to your grandparents, since they were in the country. You figured you'd be safer with them if they were still alive and if not you'd at least have a house, maybe their food was still good. They had a greenhouse and so maybe you'd even be able to figure it out.

You hadn't expected to find anyone on your way. Especially since everyone of importance had been evacuated to quarantined cities, and most of the other people who hadn't made the cut had either: started or turned. An unlucky few probably fell prey to the military, and other people who had decided it was better if everyone was dead.

The motorways were mostly deserted and as much as you were out in the open, you felt safe enough. There were deserted cars for cover, which you'd pick through, and sometimes get lucky in finding a first aid kit or something wearable.

You'd lost your mother and siblings in the chaos of the first days, you hadn't heard from them in months and figured…hoped they'd gotten to safety. You knew deep down that they'd probably died looking for you but it was, and still is, easier to hope.

You'd never been great at maps but you could remember places from how they looked and the road signs were all relatively intact. Unlike the movies with zombies, the government hadn't tried bombing or burning down populated areas. They'd simply taken the rich and important and hid them, stowed them away, and left the regular people to die. At the start there were churches and homeless shelters trying to help; Taking in traveling families and stragglers, trying to at least; especially, in their own cities but all it took in those places was for one infected to get in and they'd all be gone.

You'd tried one for a while, even made a few friends, but you'd barely managed to get out with your own life so you didn't figure anyone else had.

When you found König, him finding you might be more apt but still, you were running low on water. You didn't trust yourself to leave the main roads and since you hadn't come across any running water you didn't have the chance. It was autumn so you'd scavenged blackberries from the bushes on the side of the road and occasionally you'd come across a granola bar in one of the cars but other than that you'd been hungry and tired. Sleeping in cars hadn't done you much good either.

It has been quiet, eerily so. You hadn't come across an infected in at least a few days, which had surprised you but you didn't want to jinx your sudden good luck. Dealing with the infected was hard, at least before him it was. They were often stronger than you, and even if they weren't they were hell bent on ending you. You had managed to get your hands on a hatchet from the back room of a hardware store somewhere along the road.

You were sleeping in the back of an abandoned car before you heard his footsteps. You weren't sure if he'd seen you or not, you hoped not. Most people on the road were desperate, like you, so they were often willing to use whatever force they deemed necessary. Of the bodies on the road, at least the ones you'd come across in the past few days, only a few of them were probably due to being infected, the rest had various stab wounds; while others had arrows sticking out of them- You wondered who had provoked who.

The memories of all the dead you'd passed on the road in the last few days came flooding back. You had thought, at the time, that the chances of the guy who was practically stomping around out there, was probably the guy who killed all of those people; People like you, who were just trying to get from point A, to B. You tried to stay low hoping that he wouldn't see you. you could just about see him in the rear view mirror.

He was tall, like really tall and very built. The bruising on some of the bodies made more sense considering the size of him. You waited until he had disappeared completely from view before you got the courage to open the door.

It opened more quietly than you had expected, much to your appreciation. You pushed forward, essentially following the man. He was slow and gradually more meticulous the further along the road he got. When he had passed you he was just casting fleeting glances around the sea of deserted cars but now he has started peering through the glass and checking under cars. You had managed to stay relatively out of sight or at least you thought you had.

You hid behind a car when he turned back on himself. You hoped he wouldn't see you. He didn't move for a while and then he chuckled deeply. You heard what sounded like the creaking of a slowly deteriorating car as he assumably lowered his weight onto the hood. “I know you're there maus” his accent was heavy but his voice was definitely not what you'd expected. You'd expected deep and gravely. It had only met one of your expectations.

Regardless, his acknowledgement of your presence made your blood run cold. You were already on edge, the lack of food and good sleep had left you in a state of near constant anxiety. You didn't say anything in response hoping that maybe he would just forget about it and leave you alone. “Come out, kleine maus” his voice was softer this time but he was still a threat.

Maybe if you managed to surprise him ,If you injured him enough then he wouldn't be able to come after you. You settled on making a run for it.

You often wonder if things would be different now, if you had chosen to attack him instead of trying to outrun him. If maybe you would have joined the bodies on the road or even made it to your grandparents.

It ate at you for the first few months with him. You resented him for taking you away from the road, for being nice to you when you treated him with such venom. For keeping you there, at first you had felt like a prisoner, refused to talk to him- look at him; even to eat for the first few days but that didn't last as long as you'd hoped it would.

You'd hated him for months. Despised him so entirely that you couldn't count the number of times you'd considered his death.

You'd attempted to escape a few times only to end up lost in the dark, then thrown over his shoulder the next morning when he'd somehow find you.

You hated it. Hated him for it. Just hated everything. In hindsight it made sense, he was probably just lonely and really, you were too but at the time it felt like hell.

When he brought you back; Originally, you'd kicked and screamed doing no real damage past hurting his ears. You did the same every other time he found you. You both had a routine by your third escape; he would find you curled up under a tree, trying not to freeze to death (after the second time he started putting out wooly clothes, in case you tried to run off again) and then he would carry you back to the house. You'd be locked in the sitting room for about 10 minutes, before he'd open the door and wait for you to walk through it. When you inevitably refused, he would just throw you over his shoulder again.

You would be put down in the bathroom next to a hot bath, which you would refuse on the grounds that you don't want to like him. Despite him being incredibly nice to you (past the kidnapping part) you didn't want to like him. You found out after the first night that he'd give you about an hour; in that hour , you assumed, he hoped you would bathe but when he came back he'd always find you wherever he left you- which for the first few times was the floor but later became a rocking chair.

It was a nice chair, rustic. It looked almost as if it had been hand carved, probably not but maybe. After his failed attempt at a bath he would move onto food.

In between your attempts to run away, you'd begrudgingly accept food. Usually, it would go cold before you would even consider touching it, but it was never too long before you to got sick of ignoring how your stomach growled.

You assume he took note of what you liked eating or at least did his best, because more often than not there were things you liked on your plate. You're not sure how he knew really, if it was how quickly you ate or which order you chose to eat things. He never really said anything, not that you would have responded but still.

Since the last time, you'd been trying to figure it out, racking your brain and trying to remember which way he had walked on the first day. If you ran fast enough you could probably make it back to the road, or you would end up terribly lost and scared and utterly screwed.

You waited until all movement in his room had ceased and then made a break for it. He hadn't taken any of your stuff. You thought that it was because he found you entirely unthreatening or he thought you were too weak to use it- either way it pissed you off. Sure you'd been living on scraps long enough for it to take its toll on your body but you weren't weak. Boney, sure but weak? No.

You managed to get out of the house with ease, as much as you thought he'd kidnapped you; he gave you free range of the house and the garden. It was nice, you could see yourself living there if it wasn't for him.

You make it to the forest and come to the conclusion that it was downright idiotic to try this again. The leaves of the trees made such a thick canopy that they all but separated the sky from ground, so much so that when you made your way into the forest you could barely make out your hand in front of your face.

You ignored the ringing sound in your ears and the way your heartbeat was hammering in your chest . You grip the hatchet you'd found on your trip and venture deeper into the forest. You hadn't heard any howls as of yet, so that was a good sign- it was actually relatively still.

You made your way deeper and deeper. Sinking slowly into the monotonous task of walking and the comfort of silence. You came to what looks to be the center of the forest, you can't remember whether you had come this way when he took you from the motorway.

The bushes behind you rustled and panic seeped into you. You recognised the uneven steps and incoherent muttering almost immediately- infected. You freeze, maybe it wouldn't see you. You thought you only heard one set of shuffling feet. Maybe it wasn't even coming in that direction, maybe you would have gotten away but your luck was never that good.

A scrawny, unkempt man stumbled out from the bushes. You tried to stay completely still but it was no use, he'd either spotted you or heard you earlier. His gaze was trained on you. He was probably about 17 before he got it, he was missing a shoe. It would have been funny if it wasn't for your impending doom.

He'd stopped muttering, the froth around his mouth dropped down his chin as he drooled. The government had tried experimenting on the first hundred-ish infected. The only thing they had determined was that it was similar to rabies. There were some consistent traits, infected wouldn't go near water, you could even hear them screaming whenever it rained. At first it had upset you listening to them wail but it had become a regular occurrence especially since it was autumn then.

It was all good and well knowing that they didn't like water but it did you no use then. You didn't know where the nearest source of water was. You couldn't hear the sound of a stream or anything similar.

The boy hadn't moved the mixture of froth and drool that had collected around his mouth made you feel sick. It was vile, worse to think that he probably had a family or friends that he probably hurt without even knowing. He had a bite mark right above his ankle, on the foot without a shoe.

You wondered how long he'd been wandering around. If maybe he was like you and he just happened to be less lucky than you. Maybe one of them had gotten him from under a car or while he was sleeping.

He took a step forward and you were forced back to the reality of your situation. That you were probably going to die, in the woods alone. You stepped back almost on instinct. He took another step, then another and then broke out into a full on sprint. You did the same, you bolted forward until the shrubbery got too thick and then wrapped around a tree and came back on yourself.

You looked back to find him only a few feet behind you, he was breathing heavily but quiet. You always hated when they got quiet, meant they were focused, determined. He was probably hungry too.

Your foot caught something as you ran and you hit the floor hard. You scrambled back as fast as you could but he was on you before you could even get up.

That was it, you were gonna die in the forest alone. All because you didn't want to accept help from that shockingly, nice kidnapper.

You locked your arms out in hopes you could hold him back but he was heavy and strong and even though you'd been eating again, you hadn't had time to get much weight back on, let alone muscle.

He wasn't focused on your neck specifically, he was searching around for any exposed flesh. Your mind flicked back to the people you'd seen on the road, the few you had figured weren't by the man. They'd all been missing flesh, the infected here were hungry. They definitely weren't fast enough to catch wildlife and these places didn't get much foot traffic.

You heard a branch snap. It was most likely just a deer or something being far smarter than you and leaving the area before it too got itself killed but for whatever reason the movement had caught the boys attention too. He stopped trying to push towards you and instead looked up at the source of the noise.

A large boot crossed your line of vision before it made contact with the boy. It sent him flying back off of you. He didn't even have time to react before a machete was pushed through his chest. The sound of ribs cracking under the strain made you feel sick, the boy tenses and let out a strained sound. The man twisted the knife, another crack but this time he went limp.

You wanted to be sick, wanted to cry, wanted to run but your chest hurt and your legs wouldn't move. The man looked over at you then back at the body in front him

“Sorry Maus.”

You looked back at him entirely dazed- He'd got a mask on. He had never worn a mask around you before. Looked more like a sheet he'd thrown over his head with some stitched eye holes. It's funny, it should make him less intimidating but the fact that he's upwards of 6’6” eliminated any sort of humour in the situation.

You were completely frantic and scared. Tears welled in your eyes, you tried to will them back down but you couldn't. You didn't want to cry in front of him, didn't want him to think of you as any weaker than he already did but you couldn't stop them. Overwhelmed was an understatement. You were relieved but still so terrified.

You looked past the wall of a man in front of you and watched the boy's body twitch. He was definitely dead but that didn't make it better. You felt sick, disgusted by the sight of his mangled chest. Plus the adrenaline was leaving your body faster than you would have hoped. It left you aware of how fast your heartbeat was, how much your arms hurt from having to hold him back and a dull throbbing in your wrist.

He retracted his hand and made his way over to a log. He sat facing you, you couldn't make out his eyes under the mask, you didn't even know what colour they were.

He didn't say anything, just watched you. He didn't speak; didn't make any more moves towards you- just sat there and watched. It was weird but you felt safer having him there. Maybe it was because he'd saved your life or because it was in his interest just as much as yours to kill the infected on sight but it was still a comfort.

You eventually pulled yourself up from the floor, you did your best to avoid putting pressure on your wrist. With the last of the adrenaline having worn off, the dull ache had morphed into shooting pains.

He watched you get up, probably watched how your legs trembled slightly. “Nobody's keeping you here Maus” His voice was soft, nice and somewhat familiar. He didn't talk much, at least not to you, but he'd mutter around the house or humm songs in what you assumed was German.

You immediately started off walking in a direction you hoped was the motorway but there was no way to tell.The forest was thick and it was dark and there could be more infected; not to mention the state of your wrist. It wasn't going to be much use to you if it was broken. You barely made it out of the clearing before you stopped and turned to look at the man still on the log.

He cocked his head to one side and examined you. You had supported your damaged wrist with the other arm and lifted it to dull the throbbing, at least a little. Not that it had helped much but still you had tried.

“You're hurt?” He sounded almost amused by it. That had annoyed you, how was any of this funny? You had almost died and he was amused by it or maybe it was the crying- either way it pissed you off to no end.

You moved to flip him off but it sent waves of pain up your arm. Maybe it was broken. He watches you wince and lets out an amused huff.

“So yes?” he still sounded the same, slightly softer after watching you wince but still. You bet he had a stupid smirk on his face.

“Why the mask?” It's the first thing you had said to him since you met. It seemed to shock him. He took a while to answer you.

“Military. Used to be part of my uniform.” It didn't really explain much past the sheer size of him. Actually it didn't explain anything at all. He wasn't still in the military since it didn't exist anymore and you had absolutely no context to why he put on the mask in the first place. You nodded regardless.

You weren't really sure what you wanted. If you wanted to go back to the house where you knew it was at least safe or if you wanted to run. Ok you did know, you had wanted to run but that feeling of safety he had, unfortunately, presented you with made you want to stay. You hadn't felt truly safe in months and it was nice, even if you didn't want the source of safety to be him.

“What are you doing, Maus?” It was as if he could tell what you were thinking. Maybe he could.

“What?” You responded quickly. Pretending to be confused by the vague question.

“You wanted to leave, no? This is your chance. Leave.” he sounded a little flat, there was always something to his voice when he spoke, some sort of emotion but it was gone. “Nobody is going to stop you Maus.”

You're not sure why but it upset you, that he was suddenly so flat. “What happens if I stay?”

His head fell to the side. “Change of heart?”

You nodded. Really you just wanted to not be attacked. You didn't exactly enjoy life on the road, not that you enjoyed life with him any more but at least you didn't have to deal with the stresses of the road if you stayed.

“So I don't have to carry you back?” He chuckled and you just nodded again. It had become part of your ritual, a part that you didn't want to admit you enjoyed but it was fun to see him lift you with such ease.

Still, it wouldn't have made sense to make him carry you back after you agreed not to run off. “No.” You nodded and got up from the log, you kept your arm in your clutches, it still throbbed.

The walk back was entirely silent. You kept your eyes trained on the floor and he walked slightly ahead of you. You weren't sure why at the time but you had appreciated it.

When you got back, he fell right back into his old routines. You found yourself back in the living room, although this time when he had gone to lock the door he paused and simply left instead. You considered following him, watching him draw the bath but you decided against it. You weren't sure why you wanted to be around him, maybe it was the whole saving your life thing or maybe it was because he was sweet. Not that you would ever admit it.

He came back right on time, around ten minutes and stood at the door waiting for you. You stared back at him, you didn't really know how you wanted to play this. He wasn't keeping you here, so you didn't want to be inconvenient but you still didn't like him. Not that you had as much of a reason to but regardless it didn't change how you felt about him.

He stared back for a while before he sighed and pushed himself up off of the door frame. You looked back down at your feet and then stood up. You heard his footsteps stop as you got up, he waited for you to look up at him before turning and waking off.

He looked back after a moment to check that you had followed him, you had. He still had his mask on, you were so curious about it. Once he escorted you to the bathroom he paused at the door.

“Let me check your arm.” He held his hand out waiting for you to present him with the wrist that was still throbbing.

You looked at him skeptical before you offered your wrist, you flinched when he ran his fingers over it. After a few moments of examination he lets go.

“I don't think it's broken, and if it is, it's a fracture. I'll put it in a sling later. Just try not to bash it on anything.” He sighed and started to leave.

“I'll be back in-” he started looking back at you as he said it.

“Yeah, 1 hour. I know.” you cut him off. You expected him to be annoyed by this but he wasn't. You could see his eyes crinkle up and he made an exaggerated exhale sound, one that could be mistaken for a laugh.

“Clean yourself up, Maus.” his tone was lower,softer. He sounded quite nice really. You listened to his footsteps as he walked back down the stairs. For such a large man he was rather quiet.

You looked around the familiar room; at the bath tub which was filled with hot water and what looked and smelled like rosemary; at the chair in the corner which had a folded up towel resting on the seat; at the door that barracked you from the rest of the house; at the walls that separated you from the outside- from them.

The thoughts came flooding back to you and you shuddered, thinking about what could and would definitely have happened if…you still didn't know his name. He had a whole nickname for you and you didn't know his name. You felt a little ashamed by that.

You shook your head and tried to remind yourself that you didn't care about him even if he was really nice to you and clearly cared, at least a little for you.

Your muscles ached and you would be lying if you said a bath didn't sound good but you were still reluctant to be so vulnerable in such an unfamiliar place. He did say you had one hour and you knew you had one hour. Reluctantly, you started to pull off your shoes.

Who would it hurt? You were already in pain and if he had wanted anything like that he would have done it already. There was no point stressing, it wasn't going to help anyone, least of all you and you really wanted to not be in total discomfort. Especially not with the sharp pain in your arm.

Eventually, you had pulled off all but your underwear. Folded all of your clothes in a pile next to the tub. Only now had you realised just how dirty they were, how dirty you were. You dreaded having to put those back on but that was a problem for later. For now you wanted to enjoy warm water and an actually nice smell.

You looked back at the door once more, still a little paranoid that he would burst in and find you like this. All of those thoughts went away when you lowered your foot into the water. You hadn't had hot water since everything had gone to shit.

You put the other foot in and then lowered yourself into the water. You sighed audibly as the warm water enveloped your aching body. It was nice, you felt lighter even if the smell wasn't doing anything to help your pounding head.

You sat back, resting your back against the edge of the back and spreading out. Letting the warm water soothe your body. Gradually, you relaxed more and more. If you weren't so paranoid about a six foot ten man in a mask storming in on you, you would have stayed there forever.

You didn't let yourself relax for too long since your mind had drifted back to the boy, so you busied yourself with washing all of the dirt from your skin. You watched the water gradually go from clear to a milky brown, as you scrubbed the dirt from the skin and hair. It felt nice to be clean and to smell of something other than sweat. You looked up at the ceiling and tried to figure out how long you'd been in the water. It must have been coming up to an hour now.

If you listened really carefully you could hear him pattering about in the kitchen. You managed to pull yourself out of the embrace of the slowly cooling water when you heard the pattering switch to slow footsteps up the stairs. When he reached the door he knocked, you panicked even though you had already wrapped yourself in the towel he had left on the chair.

He opened the door a crack, clearly waiting for some indicator that you weren't still nude or in the bath.

“Maus?” He seemed unsure. Whatever semblance of confidence he had, had left his tone.

“I'm decent.” you assured him. You heard him puff out a little sigh of relief at that and he opened the door the rest of the way. He was holding a roll of bandages.

“You bathed.” he seemed both shocked and entirely unsurprised. You just nodded and looked down at your feet and the gradually expanding pool of water around them.

“I've got the sling.” He laughed at himself. “It's not a sling yet but-” He trailed off and looked down.

“I can do it later if you want Maus.” You shook your head and let him sling your arm, his hands felt warm on your skin and the fabric clung to the water still dripping from your hair. It wasn't so bad though, since some of the pressure on your arm was finally gone.

Your eyes drifted to the pile of clothes you had stacked by the bath. You really didn't want to have to put muddy clothes back on your finally clean body. His gaze followed yours to the pile of grimy clothes you had stacked by the bath.

“Come Maus.” This time he didn't look back to see if you were following. You hesitated for a moment, before you grabbed your clothes and scrambled to catch up with him. You weren't unfamiliar with the house. You had been there for a while, but now you were actually walking around it: One, when you could see and two, not while being flung over his shoulder.

It was nice, quaint. You had mostly envisioned living in a place like this when you were a kid. It was small and the floors were rickety, even crooked in some places, but it was nice. The walls, at least in this hallway, were a muted green and at the top of the stairs there was a table with a pot of flowers and a small book with a pen lying next to it.

He led you to the room in the corner. The one he had stowed you in, in the first few days. Originally, you had felt trapped but it was nice to walk around and actually take in the place.

He stopped at the door and waited for you to go in, then nodded towards the clothes he must have folded and placed on the bed.

You had previously refused to take in the room, but now that you were looking at it, it was nice. The walls were a pale violet and all of the wood in the room was light (birch maybe?); it was bright and airy, despite the fact that it was probably the early hours of the morning at this point.

You jumped when he shut the door. You heard him walk back down the stairs and figured it was probably time you stopped standing around in just a towel. He had left you another wooly jumper and a pair of baggy jeans, which were slighting too big on your waist, but you could definitely sort them out with a needle and thread.

You pulled your socks on before admiring the room for a little longer. There was a flower on the windowsill, you had never been good at flowers, but you were pretty sure it was a lily. On the wall to the left of the bed was a fireplace, it wasn't lit, but it was still warm from the fire he had built the night before for you.

You eventually made your way down the stairs, your steps never sounded quite as heavy as his. You placed that more down to the worn converse you had on, in comparison to his heavy combat boots. You could hear him humming in the kitchen, so you followed the sound and found him, slightly hunched, over the stove.

It was a little funny watching him in the kitchen, the ceilings were just high enough for him to stand up straight, but there were wooden beams running across the room in almost all of the rooms, so he had to hunch a lot. You wondered if he ever forgot and hit his head.

He turned his head when you hovered in the doorway. The mask lay next to him on the counter and he smiled when you met his eyes.

He hadn't said much of anything really, but he did nod towards a glass of water on the counter, which you reluctantly drank. You tried to look around him to see what he was cooking, but there was simply too much of him.

Instead, you retreated to the rustic looking table in the corner of the room. There were more plants in there than you had expected;it probably shouldn't have shocked you, because what better had he got to do than tend to plants?The world had literally ended.

You had thought about raiding a few bookstores, but you had never gotten around to it. You thought carrying books up the motorway would be a waste of valuable space and hell on your shoulders, but maybe if you were going to stay here you could get some? Who would it hurt? Not the already dead economy; definitely not the probably dead authors. That's if you were going to stay here. You had come back so you would have thought that meant- yes you were staying but were you really willing to stay with the man that had kidnapped you? Even if he wasn't still keeping you here.

On the other hand, it would be really nice to not have to worry about the world, or what would happen if you ever did make it up to your grandparents and they weren't there or they weren't alive or they had…Yeah, you would rather not think about that part.

It was times like these that you wished you had your mum, you hoped she was okay. That she had gotten somewhere safe and she had managed to stay with your siblings. You can't imagine she dealt well losing one child, losing more would probably break her.

You looked up to find him looking at you. You didn't entirely know what to do with that so you just stayed where you were and just looked into the water you were drinking. He turned back round when you didn't meet his eyes.

Whatever he was cooking didn't take long once you were downstairs, so you sat in a somewhat awkward silence for around 10 minutes before a bowl was placed in front of you.

You weren't exactly sure what it was, soup of some kind?. It smelt nice enough but you were still wary of it. It's not like you hadn't already been taking food from a stranger, but that was different. You needed that considering how long it had been since you had eaten real food and not just berries on the road.

Regardless, it felt different now, you pushed your spoon around the bowl and watched the vegetables move through the broth. It even looked like there was meat in there. It made sense, to you at least, you had assumed a man like him would know how to hunt.

He studied you for a moment, before leaning back against the counter and eating his own portion. You figured that was a good enough sign that he wasn't trying to kill you. You didn't really know why he didn't sit down at the table with you, maybe he was trying to make you less uncomfortable, maybe he also didn't like you. That thought bothered you a little, it's not like you should care because you didn't like him but what had you done to make him dislike you? Why did you even care that he might dislike you?

You decided to drown out your thoughts with soup- it was nice. Nothing particularly special but it was nice, you wondered if he likes cooking or if it was just a necessity for him. You didn't think you would mind picking up chores like that, if you did stay that is.

You took almost twice the time he did to finish your food. Especially since you spent most of the time pushing it around the bowl; it was mostly cold by the time you had finished, but you could feel his gaze on you and looking up felt like an unachievable task.

When you finally managed to look away from your empty bowl he smiled. “You look tired Maus.” He sounded sweet, almost concerned.

“Well I didn't get much sleep with my planning to escape and all.” Your response came out a little more dry and snappy than you had intended.

His face morphed into a frown at your response. “Maybe you should sleep then.” This time his tone matched yours. “You know where your room is.”

You felt a little bad, but you made your way upstairs anyway. You had no clue what brought on you being so rude in that moment. Maybe you were tired. You pulled the door, to what he had called your room shut, and got into bed. It was near dawn, but it was dark enough to sleep or at least to try. The bed was comfortable, a little dusty but it was nice, far better then the car seats you had been sleeping on prior to meeting him, you still didn't ask his name. Could you even now? Without it being awkward. Maybe? It's not like he knew your name either but he has been calling you Maus and you were okay with that.

You weren't sure when you drifted off, but now you wished you hadn't. You were back in the forest, you could hear the same shuffling from earlier, that poor boy's incessant muttering. You had tried to run but he was faster this time, on top of you in seconds. You stumbled, both of you hitting the floor hard and before you had time to react, he was pinning you down. The vile mix of froth and drool hanging from his mouth.

You screamed and thrashed, trying desperately to get out of his grasp or put some form of distance between the two of you- but it was no use.

Your eyes stung with tears and a sob tore through you, your wrist started to hurt again. The ache started morphing back to sharp pains. The boy shook you…the boy shook you? You slowly came back to reality, to the pale violet of the walls, to the dusty smell of the room, to the two warm hands that cupped your cheeks.

“Maus?” The man looked down at you, the concern he was feeling evident on his face.

You take a few deep breaths and then realise that he's touching you. You rip yourself away from him, as comforting as it was, you didn't want to like him. You did have to admit that it was comforting, but still you didn't want to get attached to someone and you definitely didn't want that someone to be him.

He seemed a little hurt but let you distance yourself from him.

“He can't hurt you, Maus.” You know he was just trying to comfort you but you also knew that the dead kid in the woods wasn't going to start walking again, and something about the fact that he felt the need to point it out annoyed you. Maybe it was that you were tired, you would have liked a good night's sleep or maybe it was just because you didn't want to accept that he was really nice.

“I know.” The words once again came out more snappy than you had intended. Maybe it was your lack of human contact prior to meeting him; you had never considered yourself to be one for holding grudges, but maybe it was because he kidnapped you.

He sighed and stood up from the bed. “I'll let you be Maus.”

“Um-” You immediately regretted opening your mouth. “What do I call you?”

The corners of his mouth curled into a slight smirk. “König.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, as he made his way to the door.

You hadn't heard a name like that before, when he reached the door you were suddenly struck with panic at the thought of his absence.

“Stay.” Your voice came out slightly strained and higher at the end, almost making it seem like a question. “Just until I-” Your cheeks had definitely flushed. “In case I-” You were embarrassed,you sounded like a child asking for a night light, but this was rational, right? It made sense to want someone there.

The smirk on his face morphed into a small genuine smile, as we walked over to a chair in the corner of the room. It was a bit worn but went shockingly well with the room. The chair groaned under his weight when he sat down.

You would be uncomfortable having his gaze on you if your eyes weren't so heavy. It was a struggle to keep them open. “König, is it German?” Your voice comes out quieter than expected, but he hears anyway. Despite your heavy lids you saw the nod he gave you.

“Are you German?” You muttered again, fighting off the need to sleep and taking advantage of your hazy mood.

“Austrian” he responded in the same soft tone.

By this point you had stopped trying to keep your eyes open. “Like Hitler.” your voice was heavy with sleep and you could hear your words starting to slur slightly.

He chucked at that, it was a nice sound. You heard the chair creak as he moved. “Yeah, I guess.”

You eventually managed to fall asleep, you weren't sure for how long, but when you eventually got up there was a warm stream of sunlight hitting your face. You weren't sure of the time, but you couldn't hear birds like you could in the early morning and when you looked over to the chair, König was gone. You could, however, hear grunts coming from somewhere beneath your window and the sound of metal hitting wood? You thought it was anyway.

You made your way over to the window, partly because it meant you got to enjoy the sun on your face for a while longer but also to investigate the noise. The room you were in backed out into the cottage's overgrown garden. Considering the size of the house the garden was quite big, although most of it now had been turned into space for crops there were still patches of unruly grass lining the areas of tilled dirt and the greenhouse that sat in one corner, near the hedge lining the back.

In the opposite corner was König, next to him were two piles of wood, one looked to be what he would use for fires and such and the other like the lumber he clearly intended to cut; He used a large tree stump as a surface to cut the wood.

You glanced around your room, the wardrobe caught your eye. It was nice, dusty for sure but nice. It had carved flower details on each panel of the door and a mirror on each side separating the panels. It didn't look like it had been opened in…well ever.

Much to your shock when you opened it, there was a small selection of clothes. You figured he must have scavenged clothes of all sizes ,but the ones in here seemed nice. There were a few pairs of jeans, more of those wooly jumpers he would put you in and some plain t-shirts. Folded up in the very back was a dress, it was sage green and had small embroidered flowers. It looked a little big for you -at least on the bust- but if he would let you, you'd take it in.

You held the dress up to your body, you even shut the doors so you could look at it against your form. You smiled at your reflection, it was a pretty dress and it suited you quite well.

As much as you wanted to wear it, you decided against it. Instead, you took one of the t-shirts and a pair of jeans before you folded the dress and placed it back in the wardrobe. It belonged on a hanger but they were none in there so delicate folding would have to do for the time being. Regardless, you had no intention of letting it gather dust in there.

You wondered if you would be about to find fabric in some of the looted stores, you had always had an interest in sewing and the idea of creating your own clothes brought a smile to your face- Something particularly rare since the outbreak.

You glanced back out the window and let your eyes fall on König as he brought down the axe on another piece of wood and finally made your way down the stairs and into the garden.

The sunlight felt just as nice, as it had through the window and the light breeze was equally pleasant.

König looked up when you walked into the garden. “Maus” he greeted you and placed the axe against the tree stump. He had worked up quite a sweat, which made sense;His sleeves rolled up and his breathing heavy from the activity.

“Good morning.” You had to look away because of how you felt your cheeks heat up. You had absolutely no idea what was happening, you hated him. He had essentially kidnapped you, so what if he had nice arms and his voice made you smile? So what if he was nice to you and had given you your freedom; not that you were sure he ever really took it away now. He still did it. Technically.

You looked up at the sun and figured it was probably late morning. Your days on the road had made it easier to judge, since after dusk you would have to take shelter in cars to avoid the sick.

“Do you do that often?” You cringed realising how much that sounded like a shitty pickup line.

He clearly picked up on that too because when he looked up from the stump he was smirking. “Gonna offer to buy me a drink too, Maus?” He teased. “I was running low.” He chuckled and picked the axe back up before looking at you again.

“Why don't you try, Maus? I'm sure it will make it more fun, at least for me.” He smiles and hands you the axe. “Know what you're doing?”

You nodded, even though in truth you didn't and having only one usable arm would probably make it harder. You hoped that what you had watched from the window would be enough to not have you make a complete fool of yourself. König set a log on the stump for you and then took a step back.

You gave him a nervous smile as you lifted the axe and then brought it down onto the piece of wood. The wood barely splintered but it was enough for the edge to go in. He snickered to himself while he watched you attempt to get the tool out; or the rest of the way through the timber.

“You can't laugh!” You complained. “You're ruining my performance!” You hadn't really noticed, but you were grinning too. You gave the wood a few more bashes before dramatically tossing it down.

You looked at him for a moment, trying to keep a straight face before the two of you burst out laughing.

“I did a great job! How dare you.” You spoke between fits of laughter. “Plus I'm down a hand!” You gesture to the sling before you cast your eyes back to the unchopped wood. “It was just really strong wood.” You tried to say it as seriously as you could, but it only made the two of you laugh harder.

“Thought you would be better with an axe” He nodded towards a bench at the back of the garden. Not too far from where he was. “Geh und setz dich.” When you tilted your head in confusion he smiled and translated for you. “Go sit, Maus.”

“You keep calling me Maus.” You weren't really sure if it was a question or if you were simply stating the obvious to him. In all honesty you were a little curious but maybe it was better not to know. “It sounds like mouse.” Yeah, definitely just pointing out the obvious.

“That's because it means mouse.” He chuckled again and if you were looking at him he would definitely still be grinning.

“You've been calling me a mouse the whole time?! Why?” You weren't sure why it shocked you but then again it wasn't exactly a common nickname.

“Because you're small, and cute, like a mouse.” He said it like it was obvious, you felt heat rise to your cheeks but that was just embarrassment- obviously.

“I'm like average height, you're just the size of a small house.” he let out an amused breath.

“Whatever you say, schatz.” the smile still hasn't fallen from his face, when he brought the axe down on another piece of wood. You gazed around the garden, it was pretty and very organised. You looked over the rows of crops, you couldn't imagine a guy like him gardening. Nurturing little seeds and shoots, but needs must right?

You got a little lost in your thoughts and the rhythm of him bringing the axe down onto the pieces of wood; You barely even caught yourself staring.

Why were you staring? It's not like you had never seen a man before. Technically, never that much man but still. He was just a guy, a 6’ft something guy that looked like he could snap a person in half but just a big guy.

He didn't seem to notice anyway, not that it stopped you from feeling embarrassed. You spent most of your time around him for the past few hours in some state of flushed. Which made no sense because you were still mad at him right? It only made sense to be. Even if he was sweet you were supposed to be upset.

You looked at the man you regarded as your captor. You didn't feel like that anymore. It was like if you really wanted to leave you could, probably could have in the beginning. He was sweet if nothing else, he was even willing to sit with you while you fell asleep ; You wondered how long he sat there for before he left. If he got up the minute you drifted off or if he waited.

God you were being such an idiot. It was definitely just because you had been alone for so long- Nothing more, just enjoying human interaction after so long.

You jumped when he brought the axe down on the wood again. You looked between him and the growing pile.

“Surely that's enough.” He nods in response.

“Probably.” He brings the axe down on another chunk of wood. “But I don't like doing this so it's easier to get a stockpile.”

“How long have you been here?” Considering the crops it must have been a while right? That would make sense at least, maybe it was a holiday home? Or he just moved here when things got bad because it was secluded.

“Found it.” He looked down at the wood, and his voice was quieter than before. “When I found it there were two-” He sighed.

“A couple lived here, when I got here they were already sick… I think the wife got it first, she was worse off.” He looked back up but didn't make eye contact. “They attacked, probably half starved and- well”

You got the rest, you kinda got the rest the minute he started talking. That explained the dresses in the wardrobe, the pretty furniture and probably the garden too.

After a while, you broke the silence. “Did the military know anything about it?” In asking, you failed to change the subject and lighten the mood but you were curious. You couldn't help it.

“Higher ups said it was like rabies, but they didn't tell us much more than shoot on sight. Not a lot else really” He seemed so nonchalant about it.

You knew that much, that much was on the news; then the radio when the TVs went down. The government knew it was like rabies and that you couldn't get bit, or swap any sort of fluids.

Regardless, it all happened so fast, since it was quite slow acting and nobody really showed signs;Until most people had it and by that time it was too late to think about a cure or a vaccine. Last you heard the government, or what was left of it, wasn't even trying to make a cure or a vaccine. They had simply hidden out in some ‘safe city', but that hadn't really shocked you either.

“Did you have to do that a lot? Shoot on sight?” He nodded in response and started piling the chopped wood back into the little storage shed in the garden, presumably to keep it dry.

When he got to the last few pieces, he picked them up and put them under his arm before making his way towards the house.

“You coming Maus?” You nodded and followed behind him, pulling the door shut after you. He placed the wood down in a basket and then went to the kitchen.

Lunch was cold soup, because he said he didn't want to start a fire this early in the day.You didn't particularly mind even if it was better when it was warm like yesterday.

The rest of the day was very uneventful, König went back into the garden and you sat with him. Mostly in silence, since you had run out of conversation topics and he was focused on the garden. Shockingly, more focused than he had been while he was working with the axe.

Over the next few weeks, you picked up the routine, it was rare that you would have breakfast; and lunch was always whatever had been cooked the night before. König would hunt every other Thursday- mainly hare. You went with him a few times, eager to spread the chores more. Only because you were going to stay, or at least until your arm healed then you might get back on the road.

So far you have volunteered for collecting and boiling rain water as well as cooking. Originally, you had offered to help garden (or hunt) but with one functional arm you weren't particularly good at either of those. The other problem with hunting being that you didn't really like guns or killing the animals.

So instead of hunting when he went out, you would forage somewhere nearby so he could keep an eye on you. He never put it like that but you knew that was why. It wasn't like you wanted to go far anyway, for fear of another run in with a wanderer.

It had been working well, the both of you appreciated the company and spreading the workload seemed to be helping König too. He looked less tired than he did before, you can't say he got any softer because he was always smiles when you were around but he did have more energy.

Obviously you did too, since you were finally able to eat more than scavenged granola bars, you were doing better too. The protein was helping your arm heal too and you couldn't deny how nice it was to have someone around to talk to.

Before you even really knew it, you had been with him a few months and your arm had almost completely healed. It was weaker than the other one and sometimes a bit achy but overall it was better and you were happy. The thought of leaving now was silly, why would you? To go up to your grandparents and probably find them dead? There was no appeal to it anymore, you had already lost enough people and the idea of potentially losing more was not something you really wanted to dwell on.

So it seemed like you were staying; regardless, you had become a functioning member of the house. You had jobs, jobs that weren't just to stay alive and not get lost.

So you decide you will stay because it's smarter, and that's easier to admit than staying because you're happy. Plus you just so happen to like the guy that ‘kidnapped’ you.

#apocalypse #konig cod #konig #könig x reader #könig cod #könig #konig x reader #slow burn #cod men

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rusmii · 2 months

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a/n:: this was completely self-indulgent.. it was to help me get out of my depressive state but i don’t think it’s working. decided to take it out of the drafts for you guys though aha💀

SKK INTO THE ZOMBIEVERSE x fem!reader

#( DAZAI🪽. )

apocalypse!zai who was walking around the streets one day on a case, when he witnessed a bloodied grandma tackle a little girl in her jammies. dazai knew that the world was doomed when he saw the incoming wave of zombified humans running in his direction.

apocalypse!zai who ran in the opposite direction like a madman, stopping by multiple shops to steal the necessary supplies to survive on for the next few days while the breakout was still in its peak—dazai wasn’t the type of person to leave warnings ignored though, always yelling at everyone inside that the apocalypse has started and that it was time to pack it up or die ignorantly.

apocalypse!zai who breaks into a car, and shoves everything he stole inside, hijacking the wires till it works and drives to the agency. upon arriving, he is met with the sight of multiple stressed faces—debating on leaving without bringing any civilians along with them. when they see dazai, they tell him to make a choice; save as many as they can or save themselves.

apocalypse!zai who has to weigh the situation, makes his final decision when he sees everything becoming more dire. the military was already on the case, but would they make it in time before the zombies bit everyone? being okay with what dazai chose, the agency sets off with their packed belongings—questioning dazai when they realize he wasn’t going with them.

apocalypse!zai who has to explain that he can’t just leave them behind. not minding their surprised expressions (with the exception being ranpo), dazai tells them that he’s been hiding his relationship for a while now, and now he had to get back to his lovers before deciding to take any drastic action. rushing away from them, dazai runs down the chaotic streets of yokohoma, praying silently that chuuya had already reached you before those monsters did.

#( CHUUYA🪽.)

apocalypse!chu who didn’t know about the outbreak until he got reports of suspicious looking people attacking his men. grunting in annoyance, chuuya is tasked with dealing with the aggressive group of people on ground level. but when he gets there, he is shocked to see the hectic uproar of literal zombies breaking in and eating his men alive.

apocalypse!chu who decides that it wasn’t worth the hassle to save his already infected men. chuuya orders for the uninfected to retreat inside and board up every entrance they could possibly leak into, and goes to deal with the zombies himself, swiftly taking out as much as he can before he makes a break for it and runs outside to the port mafias garage/parking area.

apocalypse!chu who had a few run-ins with the infected, but that didn't stop him nor deter him. after reaching his bike, chuuya is already out before the zombies could fill the place. he sighs, stressed when he sees the chaos emitting in the streets. gas stations ran through and blew up, cars crashed into each other, and chuuya himself couldn’t differentiate between what was human or not.

apocalypse!chu who races against time, drives to your work office as fast as he can while avoiding obstacles that pop in front of him every now and then. using his gravity to drive up the building, he finds your floor and breaks through the window, ramming zombies down with his bike—shouting for you to get your ass on when you come out of hiding.

apocalypse!chu who drove back to his place in the air once you were secured. knowing that dazai will go to his apartment, chuuya is quick to press on that gas and zoom straight to his balcony. he has his gravity locked on you to ensure that you don’t fall off while looking at chuuya in horror, who was dodging falling airplanes.

#( SKK🪽.)

apocalypse!skk who meet each other at the same time, dazai immediately running up to the both of you to inspect for any injuries. dazai breathes a sigh of relief when he sees no bites, save for a few bruises, but that’s fine. at least it wasn’t anything open. chuuya asks dazai to help him board up any entrances, telling you to go sit down and rest.

apocalypse!skk who huddle up with you in the living room, blankets and pillows scattered everywhere as the duo map out the entirety of yokohama—debating on the best route to escape from. you were asleep, too tired from running away and sneaking around the office zombies.

apocalypse!skk who decides that its best to stay in yokohama while the outbreak was still happening, opting to do all the supply runs and barricade upgrades while you take care of everything inside the apartment. when they come to an agreement, dazai and chuuya get themselves comfortable next to you, falling asleep soon after.

#𝙇𝙐𝙑 𝙍𝙐𝙉𝙄💕#yawl i was so sad while making this #it was made with my tears #and it’s not even that good i’m dead #what happpen to the quality of my works sighhh #chuuya x reader #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader x dazai #skk x reader #bsd x reader #bsd zombie au

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gonnalosemydougdimmadomedamnmind · 9 months

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It's literally impossible to read bat fanfiction because it's all based off those ridiculous fanon tropes that spread like crazy and people take as fucking biblical!!!!! Dick was never a jerk to Jason when he was Robin- they got along because Dick is mature as hell and in one retelling- Jason was a jerk to him!! And when he came back as Red Hood he had literally not a single damn reason to treat Dick like shit! Not a damn one! But he did, didn't he? Cause he's the fucking asshole! How dare you make Dick grovel towards that bastard! Dick has only ever tried to help him! Reached out during his Batman run, over and over! Also- Dick never put Jason in Arkham with Joker just a few cells down???? What the fuck! The Joker and all those other fuckers had been broken out of Arkham by Black Mask already for like the whole run??? Jason went to Arkham after losing to Dick, and Gordon put him in there because One he fucking deserved it, Two the literal circumstances?? And at that point!! Arkham was fucking rehabilitated itself!! By Dick!!! Because Bruce had him go undercover there for real, and Dick was actually tortured there before he got out!! So Dick put in the work to get that shit in order to actually help people!!

Dick never chose Damian over Tim- Tim refused to engage with him over his grief, shut him out, and left of his own devices! He never told Dick his suspicions on why Bruce was alive, never! And Tim is not the one to bring Bruce back either, there's a whole team at that point! Dick learns Bruce is alive through tossing his 'dead' body into a pit and the body comes to life as a zombie. Tim didn't tell him shit! Tim is also not a little crybaby- Damian cutting his line was a fucking blip on the page, he was momentarily shocked, that was it! He put Damian on his Hit List, which is why Damian cut his line. And his first attempt at "murder" is just pushing Tim off the dinosaur statue in the cave, he didn't go all assassin on him! Also Dick wasn't even there the first incident and wasn't told about the second incident. Alfred is the one who gave Damian Robin and Dick accepted him because he saw that Damian needed help! He needed guidance! He didn't fucking fire Tim the way Bruce fired him, and fuck all of you for thinking that Tim or Jason or fucking anyone has more right over Robin than Dick Fucking Grayson! He tried to promote Tim and Tim walked off. How dare yall make Dick fucking grovel towards that bastard!!!

Jason did try to kill all three of them!! Why does everyone just gloss over that like what the fuck??? Why does he get a pass for every shitty thing he's done??? "Bad writing" stfu this is the same dude that without hesitation kills random criminals, people who deal drugs, do you know how many random ass people deal drugs??? Jason doesn't give a single shit about being his own type of hero or saving Gotham his own way, nor do the people think of him as their savior!! Are you people fucking delusional?? I saw a post that said citizens would trust Jason over CASS and I cannot Believe the hallucinations yall are seeing???

It is literally downright impossible to find fics about Dick or Damian or Cass or fucking any of them that doesn't include these literal bullshit fanon takes!!! It's impossible!!! This fandom sucks!!!! You don't even need to go buy the comics, all these popular takes have been debunked right here on tumblr!!!! Also Dick can do literally everything!! He's hypercompetent as hell, die mad about it!! Jason doesn't like Wonder Woman???? Where the fuck did that come from??? Wayne Family Adventures is not real!!! Those people could not BE more out of character!!! Look at Bruce for crying out loud!!! Yall know that man ain't act like that!

Edit: leaving this here in case anyone wonders what my hot take is towards this question I was asked: "have you considered tho, that fanon is more fun..."

Well of course fanon is more fun if you're a fan of Jason or Tim. Fanon actively caters towards those two pasty white boys. Fanon actively shits on Dick and Damian though. And for Dick? He literally never did that shit! It is all made up! It's literal character assassination?? But by the fans?? And for Damian? He was 10!!! He grew up as an assassin! He was actively trying to grow with Dick's help! How can yall see him as the bad guy?? And not the literal bad guy, (Jason), and the 17 teen year old who literally fought him back btw, (Tim), like old boy did not act victimized the way you people portray. And Jesus for Cass? Cass is just a prop in fanon. So what exactly about this should be fun to me? Like seriously.

#dc comics #batman #batfamily #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #cassandra cain #anti jason todd #anti tim drake #anti batfamily fans #fanon bullshit #bat fans suck #i hate this place!!!#cant read anything!!!#bruce wayne #my posts

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baby-yongbok · 9 months

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You & Me

Han Jisung x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, idol

✨️Masterlist✨️

Warnings: mentions of wanting to die. (It's just for a second, I swear), Themes of a breakup/ ended relationship

Word Count: 1,460

Note: As soon as I heard Miserable (You & Me) I knew that I had to write based off of the lyrics. So I wrote this in thirty minutes while on anxiety medication that makes me a zombie so I'm sorry if it sucks but I actually love it.

Summary: You and Han's last call is emotional, to say the least.

"Did you tell them yet?" You whispered into your phone receiver. Han was quiet for a second before sighing heavily.

"No… I'm not sure that I know how to. Do I just say, hey guys y/n and I broke up during rehearsal or something?" He lets out a sad chuckle and a ghost of a smile pulls at your lips.

"Just sit them down and tell them, Ji… I don't want you to go through this alone." It's quiet for a few seconds. The dim light in your room embracing you softly, mirroring how you feel inside.

"I'm not going through this alone… you're going through it too."

"You know what I mean, Ji." You sigh, shutting your eyes and leaning your head against your bed's headboard. "You know… we probably won't really talk anymore anyway so -"

"Don't say that." Han's words are rushed but you can still hear the pain behind them. "Of course we can talk."

"About what? Do you want to reminisce about all of our arguments? Or talk about the future we gave up on? Talking to you would just…" Your voice grows smaller as you process your emotions.

"Don't." Han whispers, you can imagine his pained facial expression. Eyes closed and his nose slightly scrunched as he battled his heavy thoughts.

"It would just be painful… for both of us and I don't want you to be in any more pain, Jisung."

"Then let's fix this, y/n… let's figure out the long distance."

"Ji…"

"Please, you don't understand how many times I shut my eyes and hope that when I open them that this is all a dream. For two years you have been my everything, y/n. You have been the center of everything, you are a part of my life and if I have to let you go…if I really have to let you go then I honestly rather be dead."

Tears fall down your cheeks as you bring your knees to your chest and shrink into yourself. You knew that this would be hard when you decided to break up with Han but you also knew that the long distance and constant fighting wasn't what either of you needed or wanted right now. Deep down Han knew that too, he was just too afraid to say it.

"I know that this is hard… I've cried every night since we talked about it but this just can't work… I never see you, Ji… your job is something bigger than the both of us right now and it's not anyone's fault… it's just how your life is designed and right now I don't fit here… we don't fit here." You hear Han sniffle on the other line and you swear that your heart breaks a bit more. The sound only makes your own tears fall heavier.

"Is there someone else?" His question comes out in a whisper. He didn't want to ask it but knowing him he probably couldn't go another second without a solid answer to his intrusive thoughts.

"Of course not."

"Then… then tell me you're still mine, baby, please."

"Jisung… you shouldn't call me that." You pull your lips into a thin line as you take in the silence on the other line. At this point the silence has said more than either of you for this entire conversation.

"Please." His voice is once again barely above a whisper and you bring a hand up over your heart to make sure it's still beating. You're almost positive that the amount of pain in his voice could kill you but you have to try your best to stay strong. But, even if you are staying strong you can't leave him as the only one being vulnerable here, it just wouldn't be fair.

"I think… I think that I'll always be yours, you have my heart, Ji." That was the push that broke the dam for him. You listen helplessly as he sobs into his hands on the other line. You sit quietly trying not to succumb to your heavy emotions as well. The all too familiar silence swallows you both until your emotions seem to calm down a bit and all that's left is the sound of light panting and deep breaths every now and then.

"Do you remember when I came to visit you and I took you to the carnival?" A grin tugs at your lips as you shake your head.

"Yeah, I do, we got on the Ferris wheel because you swore you could handle it but you freaked out the second we started moving." You both chuckle lightly at the memory.

"It was terrifying but… when we got to the top and I looked at you.. and I watched you marvel at the view and that smile on your face when you pointed to the sunset…" He got quiet for a second as he recalled the memory. You could imagine a ghost of a smile across his lips.

"When I saw you looking like that… looking so beautiful, so breathtaking… I wasn't scared anymore, y/n." Now it was your turn to cry. The hand that was over your heart was now over your mouth as you tried your best to muffle your sobs. You knew it was no use, you knew that Han could tell that you were crying but you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to be strong for him.

"I kissed you on top of that Ferris wheel while the sun kissed the horizon and it was then that I knew that I love you."

"That was the first time you said it too." You manage to choke out through your small sobs. "I was so happy."

"I smiled for weeks after that. How could I not? You loved me.. I just.." The smile in his voice faded as reality hit him again. "I just wish that you would love me like that again."

"Han Jisung, I do love you… I love you with all of my heart but this relationship is going to hurt us way more than it is now if we don't take off our rose colored glasses and look at the reality of it all."

Han sighed in defeat, he knew you were right. The two of you weren't doing well with the distance and the dating rumors that social media constantly pushed out was not helping at all. They shipped Han with everyone they could think of which did horrible things for both your anxiety and his. You'd fight over pointless things and though you always made up you'd be fighting again a week later and it became a cycle that you two just couldn't seem to escape from. The last thing that you wanted to do was leave him but this just wasn't how your relationship was meant to go.

"You're my heart, you know? You always will be."

"You're my heart too, Ji."

"When I come to the states… Could I visit you?" He was shy to ask but he had to know if he could see you. It's all he ever wanted to do anyway, he always wanted to be around you. Hugging you, kissing you, cuddling you, and you used to love every second of it.

"You're always welcome here, Ji." You can nearly hear the smile that paints his face.

"And you're always welcome here, y/n… next time you come to Korea I'll show you all of the places I never got to show you while we were together… is that okay with you?" You smiled a sad smile 'while we were together' this is really over, huh?

"Sounds like a plan, Ji." Just as Han is about to reply you hear Changbin calling for him in the background and Han lets out a deep sigh. "Gotta go?"

"Yeah… we have promotions to do." His voice is sad again, small and distant.

"Can you promise that you'll take care of yourself, Ji… for me." Your voice is hopeful and pleading, something that Han can't seem to resist.

"For you, I'd do anything… So yeah, I promise." The silence came back to you both as you tried to figure out how to say goodbye.

"Well… I'll see you around, good luck."

"See you around, y/n.." Neither of you hung up for a couple of seconds, both wanting the other to say one last word. To hear one last breath escape their lips. Neither of you wanted to let go but you knew you had to. Just as you were about to hang up you heard Han's whispered words followed by the call ending. Tears welled up in your eyes once again as his words echoed through your head.

I love you, y/n

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leonw4nter · 3 months

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This Whiskey or Your Love?

Vendetta!Leon x F!Reader

TW ! graphic mention of getting stabbed, blood

Relationships in this line of work are always bound to be tragic, whether the relationships formed were that of friendships or ones that were more than that. You and Leon knew this too well so you two never gave a label for whatever was between you two. Even something as simple as sharing a whiskey flask after a long day was intimate, your lips connecting to where his was just moments ago. Or those late night sparring sessions, urging the other to come at them with a practice blade and engage in a tango consisting of lunges and blades; you observed that there is a sense of familiarity with these sessions, both of you familiar with the manner of how the other gripped their knives or what side the other preferred when it came to offenses, an interesting sense of familiarity with your partner. Most of all, you loved when you always took the chance to protect Leon. You are familiar with your partner and his tendency to throw away his life for the sake of preserving that of others’ so the opportunity for you to cover for him and protect him when he couldn’t always felt rewarding; he always made sure others were fine and never took time to check if he was fine so being the one to ensure his safety made you feel at ease.

The pursuit of that feeling at ease and eagerness to protect Leon is what led to your demise, your body skewered with several spikes of an Anubis BOW. Your partner was preoccupied with several other infected, he barely registered an Anubis behind him. The damn thing was right behind him, its sharp and bony wings about to dive straight into him. You were near him yet you were in pain, your rib having been shattered and you could bet that one of your bones were probably poking against a lung yet your legs still worked so you ran. You ran to be the barrier between Leon and the BOW, arms extended to your sides for maximum coverage for Leon. You closed your eyes and for a quick second, you felt fear. This was not how you imagined you’d die, you wished you’d die of old age and be surrounded by loved ones but here you are: death by impalement in front of the man whom you love but never called a “boyfriend”. You were afraid not just because you were going to die but because you’re probably going to leave him alone in this ruthless world. Last minute, you decided to shove Leon out of the way before moving yourself away from the monster too but it seemed that fate had already decided long ago for you. Leon managed to finish off the last of the zombies before he turned to you, his back to the ground but his gun trained on the thing behind you when he heard a gasp. You were facing him, body caging him but he noticed spikes– 3 of them protruding from your abdomen and chest. With a sickening squelch, the Anubis retracted its spikes before diving them back inside your body, carmine blood spilling forth from your mouth and dripping down your chin. You could not even keep a proper grip on your gun, the overwhelming pain of everything taking your consciousness away from you. Your eyes closed and your hearing was dulling but you swear you felt the most painful jab to your heart not because that stupid thing stabbed you again but because of the sheer sadness Leon had in his voice when he called your name. You heard the sound of gunshots and screaming next, the spikes retracting from your body before you fell to the ground and lay in a pool of your own blood. You forced yourself awake when you felt Leon gently shift your body, applying pressure to two of the three stab wounds. You rubbed your eyes, trying to get them to focus on Leon but then you regret that you did; his face is all red and covered with the muck of the Anubis, a bad bruise forming right under his eye but most of all he’s crying. He’s cried in front of you many times but never as hard as this.

“Don’t talk,” Leon says with a shaky voice. “You’re losing a lot of blood but you’ll be fine, I promise.”

He continues to apply pressure with shaky hands but stops when he feels you groan, realizing that he accidentally pressed on a cracked rib. There is nothing he can do but cradle you and cry harder, your body beaten and snapped beyond saving. To keep you alive in this condition as you wait for back-up would be pure torture for you, pain overriding every single thing you can feel. To let you die in this situation is the kindest act Leon can do for you.

“Yeah, I’ll… be fine.” You softly whisper as you raise your arm, a bloodied hand coming up to cradle his cheek. He nuzzles into your touch, not caring if he’s smearing your blood on his face. He doesn’t even smell the strawberry perfume you always wear now, the metallic scent of your blood filling his nostrils instead.

“Why did you do that?” Leon asks.

“You… you do so much for the world, Leon… It’s my… t-turn to… do some…thing for you…” You barely choke out.

You two stay silent for a bit, Leon brushing the matted hair away from your face and tucking a strand behind your ear.

“I’m not used to being without you, Y/N. I don’t think I’ll ever be used to being without you.”

Oh, Leon. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you the world.

“I’m… sorry… Leon,” you inaudibly apologize. Each breath was becoming increasingly difficult, causing a rattling noise to emit from your throat.

“I love… you. Always… have… I’ve got… so many words for you… but I can’t right now… because… I’m feeling a… little tired…,” you plaintively whisper to him.

“I love you too, Y/N. I regret not telling you sooner, I hate how I have to tell you this right now but I wished I had mustered up the courage to ask you to be mine. I should have tried instead of being afraid.”

“You can… always… wait for me… in the next… life… you know,” you sigh with a small smile. Leon never exactly believed in anything after death; if it’s the end then it’s the end, he thought but for you, he wished that there is something after death just so he could be with you.

“How long will I wait for you until we can be together again?” Leon quietly asks.

“Live… live… your life… while waiting for… me… make use… of it.”

Your hand relaxes but your eyes stay fixed on him, the lids not draping over lifeless irises. He takes your hand again, only for it to limply fall back down. He gently closes your lids with a blood-stained thumb, holding you close to him and gently swaying you back and forth as he cries into the leather jacket he gave to you, still wrapped around your lifeless body. He felt many different things at this moment: agony, resentment, desolation, and many others that he had no names for. Such a lively person didn’t have to die this way, he did– him and his vice of turning to alcohol, him and his vice of never letting people into his life. You were his greatest love and the center of his most impossible dreams.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Y/N wouldn’t want you to live like this!” Chris exclaims as he sees Leon passed out on his dining table, surrounded by several tall bottles of whiskey and empty packets of hangover relief pills. Claire had also come over, cleaning up around Leon’s apartment; when the siblings had come in, the apartment was dark and the smell of booze lingered heavily in the air. Claire turned the light switch on and saw Leon asleep on his table, head resting on his arm whilst his right hand was still curled against a heavy-bottomed glass filled with the amber drink. Immediately, Chris gently shook Leon awake which earned him a displeased look. Chris was more concerned by how Leon looked than the glare he received– his hair was matted and messy, his stubble unshaven for several weeks, with the heavy purple eye bags that hung on his eyes. His lips were dry and crusty and the wounds that Leon was instructed to bandage were not covered up with gauze, the stitches slightly red.

“Forget about Y/N,” Leon slurs. “She’s not around to see me look fucking pathetic.”

Chris stayed silent for a moment, Leon’s reliance on alcohol to deal with his grief reminding him of himself from years ago.

“Leon, you’re going to kill yourself soon if you don’t stop this.”

“Sounds real nice.”

He takes a deep breath before he takes the glass from Leon’s hand and pours the drink in the sink, setting the glassware on the counter.

“Y/N told you to do something with your life. Are you seriously going to stay in this cycle of getting drinking and getting drunk until we find you dead? Because I’m sure as hell that Y/N doesn’t want that!”

Leon stays silent, gaze fixed on the empty bottles in front of him. Chris’ words sobered him up real fast but he still itches for the relief of the burning sensation the whiskey gives to him as he takes a swig. He doesn’t even realize that a tear has wet his cheek before dropping down into the wooden table beneath him, Chris getting up from his chair and engulfing him in a hug. Before he could even think of stopping it, his tears stream down endlessly as he sobs into his shoulder. This is all Leon’s done ever since your funeral: drink, get drunk, and cry but to cry in the company of a friend makes him feel a lot less alone. He feels another figure hug behind him, realizing that it’s Claire. The comfort of her touch causes his breathing to slow down, his body becoming less tense with her soothing words.

“Leon,” Claire says in a firm but gentle voice. “We’ll get you to therapy and stay away from alcohol for a bit. You need help.”

Before Leon could protest, Chris faces him and gives him a nod.

“Yeah. It’s for your own good and trust me, I’ve been here before.”

With a sigh, Leon decides to get his life together. It won’t be easy and sure as hell won’t be smooth but for you he’ll try. Helping the Redfields clean up, he takes a trash bag and takes all the garbage before starting a shower in what feels like ages while the siblings start on a decent meal for him.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

It’s been months since he’s started seeing a therapist and he feels a lot less shitty than he did. Occasionally, he feels the urge to go get himself a bottle of alcohol but he fights the urges and gradually, those urges have gotten less strong and he feels proud of himself for overcoming this. Of course, he still misses you and he sometimes cries himself to the thought of you, your lifeless body still appearing in his dreams but therapy has been helping him cope with your loss a lot better than he previously assumed. He’s already got a dinner reservation with Chris and Claire to thank them for the help they’ve given him, along with the patience to listen to him every time he talks about you.

Leon finally finishes fixing his hair, fixing his suit and making sure he looks presentable before finishing up the look with a small spritz of cologne. Leon looks at himself in the mirror, looking better than he has in a long time. He smiles at his reflection, feeling a lot more confident than he has. His gaze falls to your dog tags on his bedside table, a painful memory resurfacing in his mind but he sets that painful feeling aside because he’s going to see you today. Even better, he’s got a basket ready with candles, your favorite sweets, lunch, flowers, and a Valentine’s Day letter (with songs listed down that he thinks you’d love).

“Looking good,” he tells himself as he admires his suit from different sides.

Taking the basket, he makes his way out of his apartment and into his car. Setting his radio to a station that plays sappy romantic songs, he pulls out of the parking lot and makes his way to the cemetery you’re buried in. As much as he wants to stay in and feel a little sad, he decides to celebrate Valentine’s Day since it’s one of your favorite holidays.

After a nice 30-minute drive he finally arrives at the cemetery. Taking a pink teddy bear and his picnic basket out of the passenger seat, he makes his walk to your grave that is buried in a more private corner of the entire place. He finally spots your grave and sets his picnic blanket down before taking out pink candles, lighting them up before he takes the contents out of the basket.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other,” he softly tells you. “I miss you. Everyday.”

It’s true; each passing day, his love for you doesn’t change and instead grows and extends to places he didn’t know love could touch.

“I got you sweets and a bear, though I’ll have to bring the bear home after this. No alcohol since I’m on a sobriety journey so you’ll have to bear with me on this one.”

He sets your bouquet of flowers down and lines up the sweets around your grave.

“Hope your ghost stays full with these.”

He suddenly remembers the letter he wrote the night before, fishing it out of the bottom of the basket. Much to his confusion, he can’t find it anywhere though he’s sworn that he placed it inside before leaving. He looks back at your headstone before he looks around, making sure that no one’s around to possibly take from your grave.

“I’ll be back, I just have to find something.”

He walks back to his car and looks around, looking for the letter. After a few moments, he nudges against something and the letter falls out along with an old picture of you and him from several years ago. You and him are wearing sleek suits, smiling brightly at the camera during the portrait awarding ceremony; the President decided to award a portrait for you and him as his token of gratitude for saving his daughter a while back. He remembers how you walked up to the photographer and asked him for a casual picture with you; Leon had a small smile on with his arms crossed while you were beaming bright, your body slightly leaned against his. The sight of you being so full of life caused tears to brim at his waterline, wiping them away before they could ruin the photo or his letter.

“You’ve still got some tricks up your sleeve I guess,” he quietly mumbles to himself. He takes the letter and the photo along with him, keeping the picture in the inside pocket of his blazer as he walks back. He looks up and sees a butterfly, fluttering right above him before disappearing and flying off into the wide open sky.

NOTE - I was literally rushing to get this done but I think this turned out pretty well. I tried to make chewy rice balls with my friend at his house yesterday and it turned out rock-hard 😭 We threw it to the wall and it literally bounced off and it sounded like we threw a pebble 😭😭What's worse is that this is a project and the teacher in charge for this subject is a culinary major... sir I hope you won't be disappointed 💀 Anyways, that's all for my fic and thanks for reading it!!!!!! Also thanks for 201 followers, this means so much to me, I <3333333 UUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!

The dividers are from @plutism , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x reader #fluff #leon scott kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy fluff #biohazard #rebhfun #resident evil vendetta #leon kennedy angst #leon kennedy x you #leon x reader #angst #light angst #resident evil x reader #resident evil angst

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alexfromjersey · 10 months

Text

A SCHOOL TAINTED WITH BULLET HOLES

Vada Cavell x G!P OC

Word Count: 2.0k

warnings: school shooting, mature language, gun violence

A/N: I’m trying to write as much as possible before I visit my dad for three weeks so pray that I can at least finish half this book and at least three chapters for my other book.

Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

Poke. Poke. Poke.

You were being awoken by the feeling of someone poking you in your side, face, and thigh. You peel one eye open and are met with wide eyes and yellow rotten teeth. You jump fully awake, frightened, and scoot to your wall.

The sickly-looking man let out a laugh at your reaction, “Oops didn’t mean to scare ya.” The man was wearing nothing a dirty stained white t-shirt, no bottoms on.

“Rip! I told you, this room is off limits” The familiar voice of your mother enters your room. She was in a red silky robe that was loosely tied and her hair was disheveled.

“My bad. I was just trying to look for the bathroom” Rip snorted and moved away from you.

“Last door on the right” Your mom answered.

Rip nodded and turned back to you. “Sorry kid” He shrugged and left your room.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Your mother comes to stand in front of you.

“I’m sorry baby but I told you to always make sure your door is locked every night so things like this can never happen” She spoke softly. She tries to push some hair out your face but you flinch away from her. A hurt look appears on her face.

“Get ready for school or you’re going to be late” She sniffled and left your room.

You sat on your bed for a good extra five minutes before getting yourself ready for the day. You got dressed in a black pullover hoodie, black t-shirt, faded blue jean shorts, and beat-up black and white Cortez. You grab your bag, skateboard, and essentials before leaving your room. You make sure to lock your room up before heading downstairs. Thankfully, Rip was still in the bathroom so you didn’t have to see him in the kitchen. You brushed your teeth and washed your face in the kitchen sink.

After you finished, you leave your house without a goodbye from your mother. As usual, you’re met with the sight of your two friends, Quinton and Devyn Hasland.

“Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken from her slumber” Devyn joked in a broken English accent.

A smile appeared on your face and you dap the brothers up. The three of you start your journey to school.

“You know Principal Adams is coming for you for missing like a whole week of school. He’s been hounding me and Q for the last week about your whereabouts” Devyn said.

“I don’t care. School is a fucking joke” You shrugged.

“School helps you get a job” Quinton commented.

“No, school helps you become a dumbass corporate zombie. It doesn’t teach you any life skills. Not how to do taxes. Not how to save money to get a house or car. Or basic life shit that you need to survive. How is a2 + b2 = c2 gonna help me in life? When am I gonna need to know that shit? Fuck school til the day I die” You smiled and stuck your middle finger up.

The three of you continue your journey to school. As you approach the school, you see a rail that you always practice on.

"Watch this" You smirked and throw your board down.

"Nice" The brothers compliment as you skate back towards them. You felt a pair of eyes on you so you turned around and they lock on to dark brown ones.

Vada Cavell.

You knew her from your Chemistry class with Mrs. Victor. The two of you never spoke but always catch each other staring. Quinton and Devyn follow your eyeline.

“Oh my god, I wish you would just let your balls drop and go talk to her. The longing gaze from across the room is so Twilight” Devyn groaned.

You pull your eyes away from her, “You watched Twilight?”

“I only watched it with Jazmine” Devyn defended.

“Lie. Mom and Pops caught you last week, without Jazmine, watching it in the basement. According to Mom, you look very engrossed in it” Quinton laughed.

“There was nothing else on TV” Devyn sighed.

You and Quinton let out a laugh as the three of you walk inside the school. The brothers make their way to their lockers while you head to breakfast. You were starving and didn’t realize it until you got inside the building. By the grace of God, you managed to get to the café before they closed.

You grab your food and head to pay for it. But when you pulled your wallet out, you realized a $5 bill you had was missing. You sighed out in frustration.

“Fucking dickhead” You mumbled. You put the food back and turned around but you ran into someone.

“Miss Vaughn, nice to know you’re alive and well. Follow me” Principal Adams demanded.

You sigh and begin to follow the principal to his office. But another body runs into you.

I can’t catch a break today.

“Sorry,” A sweet voice apologized. You looked down and saw Vada. You open your mouth to respond but Adams interrupts you.

“Ms. Cavell the bell is about to ring. Head to class now” Adams ordered.

“Sir yes sir” Vada mocked and saluted him before turning on her heels, and walking to class. You chuckled lightly and continued following Adams.

The two of you made it to his office which smelled like straight black coffee and boiled eggs. You already knew what the talk was going to be about so you just relaxed in the chair.

“Jordan Vaughn…failing every single one of your classes and racking up a whopping 37 days absent. It’s not even spring break yet” Adams read from your file.

You grab a red and black sharpie off his desk.

“What is your goal Jordan? What is it that you wanna do with your life?” Adams asked.

You continue to draw all over the underside of your board, not even paying attention to the man in front of you.

Principal Adams sighed, “Miss Vaughn.”

At the call of your name, you look up at him, "Hm?”

“Listen I get it, school sucks and you don’t have a care in the world about your diploma. But you know who does... the world out there. Jobs won't even give you a second thought if you don't graduate. You need to start taking this seriously or you will be left behind while everyone around you is making it" Adams lectured.

"My goal is to become a pro skateboarder, last time I checked you don't need a diploma for it"' You shrugged.

"But you need money. You need money for the fees. You need money for sponsors. What if your board breaks? A diploma leads to jobs that lead to money which can help you become a pro skater.” Adams explained.

He had a point but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of being right. Adams grabbed a pamphlet labeled, Summer School.

“You complete this program for one month this summer, you’ll be graduating with your friends next year,” Adams said and slid it toward you.

You reluctantly take it and leave the office before he could say another word.

The hallways were now empty due to everyone being in class now. You walk to your locker and open it. You are stunned to see an apple juice, strawberry Pop Tart, and an orange inside.

“What the fuck?” You questioned. You remembered putting this stuff back. You looked down the halls and saw you were alone. You shrugged and started chowing down on the food. After you finished you placed your board and the pamphlet inside.

SMACK!

You jumped at the noise beside you. It was then followed by laughter.

“I hate the both of you” You mumbled, mouth full of food as you looked at Quinton and Devyn. “Aren’t you two supposed to be in class?”

“Yeah, but Q saw you with Principal Adams so he texted me to come and wait for you in the hall. Why are you inhaling your food in front of your locker?” Devyn questioned.

“I was hungry. But I didn’t buy this though. It was in my locker when I opened it” You answered.

“Oh, food from Mother Theresa. I need one of those. Tell her to bring me some Burger King” Devyn joked. You rolled your eyes at the boy.

“Boys and Miss Vaughn, the three of you need to get to class before I-”

A loud bang is suddenly heard. Everything starts to go in slow motion for you as you see blood splatter against the school walls. Two more bangs are heard and a girl lets out a blood-curdling scream.

More bangs are heard, now in rapid succession. You barely process the fact Devyn is now on the ground in a pool of his own blood. You look up to see a kid from one of your classes standing there emotionless with an automatic rifle pointed toward Quinton.

“DEVYN!” You hear Quinton scream. It brought you back to reality as you looked down and saw Quinton holding his brother’s body getting blood on himself.

“Quinton! We have to go! Come on Quinton!” You shout as you pull him away from Devyn’s lifeless body. You push him to run down the hall. Another gunshot rings through the hall and you feel a searing pain in your hip area. You push through the pain, you quickly open the door to the girl’s bathroom and push Quinton inside before locking the door behind you. The two of you cram into a stall out of breath. Sweat was dripping down your face and tears were falling freely down Quinton’s.

Suddenly, the sound of metal hitting the floor made the both of you freeze.

“Who’s in there?” Quinton questioned.

No response.

“We’re not the shooter. It’s Matt Corgan, we saw him” Quinton added. As your adrenaline begins to fade, the pain comes back in full force.

More rapid gunfire outside the door makes everyone clench in fear.

“Do you know where he is now?” A fragile voice asked. You can hear another girl’s quiet cries in the stall next to you. But you were too focused on the pain.

“I don’t know. I don’t know, my brother” Quinton cried. Tears start to gather in your eyes from the pain and the current predicament.

“Come, come under” The girl ushered. You let Quinton crawl under first. You bend down to follow but a torturous pain shoots through your body.

“Ahh” You cried out. You lift up your hoodie and shirt to see a gaping wound pouring out blood.

“Jordan? What happened, you okay?” Quinton questioned.

You start to feel lightheaded and the world starts to spin and before you know it, you fall onto the tile floor with a loud thud. Quinton quickly unlocks the stall door to see you trying to keep your eyes open.

“No, no, no, no Jordan” Quinton cried and bent down to the floor. He lifted your tops and saw the wound.

“Shit, help me please” Quinton called out to the two girls. His voice was quiet enough for only the people in the bathroom to hear. He puts pressure on your wound which makes you groan and squirm. The two girls exit the stall but retreat when they see you on the ground.

“Please help me,” Quinton sobbed. The blonde-haired girl runs and grabs as many paper towels as she could. She hands some to Quinton and they put pressure on your wound to stop the bleeding.

“Hang on, Jordan” Quinton cried.

Meanwhile, your eyes start to flutter close but a warm soft hand brings you back.

“Hey, you have to keep your eyes open. Don’t close them. Don’t close your eyes” Vada’s voice echoes throughout your head.

Her eyes were bloodshot red and puffy with more tears falling freely down her face. She squeezes your hand tight to keep you from closing your eyes. The sound of police sirens and heavy footsteps can be heard.

“Oh thank God,” Quinton said.

You tried your hardest to keep your eyes open but they were getting extremely difficult. They were getting heavier and heavier until your eyes closed and your hand went limp in Vada’s.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x oc #jenna marie ortega #g!p reader #jenna ortega #the fallout #vada cavell #vada cavell x reader

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k-s-morgan · 5 months

Text

This is a belated post where I wanted to briefly address the outcomes of 2023!

While Ukraine mostly faded from the stage of world's news, unfortunately, the situation didn't get better for my people. Every day Russia kills, maims, and ruins everything it can touch. Every day civilians die from its imprecise missiles, random shootings and artillery, and outright executions. I often see that those living in other countries call this Putin's war, but it really isn't. This is the war sponsored by Putin and his regime, true, but first and foremost, this is the war of Russian people. It's hundreds of thousands of Russian people who arm themselves and go kill our defenders and our civilians. It's Russian people who fire from tanks and other deadly weapons to ruin the Ukrainians' homes, to scorch our land, to leave nothing but destruction instead of cities and villages. It's Russian people who build the missiles, load their bombers, and fly for 5+ hours to direct them at our cities, homes, factories, and even empty fields.

This is me during one of the latest massive attack that took place on January 2. At first, at night, 35+ Russian-Iranian drones bombed us. Then Russian people sent about 100 missiles at us, mainly at my city Kyiv.

Our air defense system managed to intercept the majority of them, but while it sounds like interception is an entirely positive thing, it might have terrible consequences. Because the parts of the missiles fall down randomly. They can kill any human or creature walking down the street; they can collapse on top of a residential building. There is no escape, no way to feel safe even with the best air defense systems surrounding the city. Here's one of many disastrous results of this attack.

Dead and injured people and animals. Damaged and lost apartments.

On December 29, another attack killed over 30 people in Kyiv alone. You can see their faces below. They deserve to be seen and remembered.

This is a short story of just two latest attacks that took place just within one week, just in one city. Imagine how many of them me and my people lived through during the entire year? How many more we will have to experience?

Actually, we lived through another one before I finished writing this post. It happened on January 8, and it killed even more civilians.

I know that there are good, sane, compassionate Russians. I have some relatives among them. One of them, my aunt, can't keep herself entirely silent: she's deeply religious, and a few weeks ago, in a church, she risked saying that killing Ukrainians is bad. Another man told her that she's scum and that if she dares to open her mouth again, he will report her to authorities. The headmaster of a school where my aunt teaches was imprisoned for 7 years for refusing to hold a Z-event among students. Living there must be a torture of another kind, where you are surrounded by zombies who openly promote terrorism and bless missiles sent to kill other human beings. The problem is that sane and compassionate Russians are the minority - the vast majority is happy to either kill us or they support those who kill us. Or they simply don't care, trying to claim that everything is complicated when in reality, there is nothing complicated about it at all. Russia is a terrorist state and the world allows its people and its government to keep being monsters.

Seeing the indifference and impotence of seemingly powerful countries makes me increasingly concerned and depressed. At this point, I don't think I'm simply affected by my experiences: the world is rapidly going to hell, with terrorist countries like Russia being allowed to revel in their blood-thirstiness and the other terrorist countries, like North Korea, or potential offenders like China, observing and taking notes. When a criminal sees that no one is punished for a crime, they escalate. More criminals appear. This is what I feel is going to start happening more and more, until half of the planet is plunged into death and destruction. I'll be so very glad to be wrong.

On a personal note, I lost my most beloved pet pigeon Daikiria in 2023. I love her and miss her so much that I still cry whenever I think of her. In turn, I acquired a red nightmare of a rabbit who eats everything, including my feet, and two more pigeons. Taking care of them brings me joy - I only hope that my effort will actually benefit them.

Here's a pigeon that I named Noveria the day I found her, in a video I made for my vet. Attacked by a cat, bleeding all over, with broken ribs and a missing piece of her wing, with no tail:

Here is she now. She is feeling much better, although unfortunately, she got sick because of her weakened immune system.

My kitties continue to be adorable dorks. Here's me sleeping with my cat Tom after one of the attacks - he's really scared of loud sounds, so he sleeps like a rock afterward, just like me.

My family stays strong, and I hope we will remain to be so.

Writing stories remains a huge source of relief and distraction to me, and your support, love, and care give me strength even when I feel like I'm about to run out of it.

Thank you to those who support me on Patreon and give me a chance to have a safety net shielding me from some of the horrors and insecurities - thanks to you, I can rest sometimes when I would have to work instead; I can afford some more distractions and to write more as a result. Thank you to those who leave comments, kudos, asks; thank you to my friends who never fail to message me with questions about my well-being. I love and I appreciate you tremendously, and despite all my fears and worries, I hope that we will get to see a better future still.

#personal #ukraine #kyiv #kiev #russia is a terrorist state #my fics #thank you

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shapard · 2 months

Text

Thorned 🥀

Lucifer x fem!reader

Zombie Apocalypse Au

The days word: Bitches

NSFW, Violence, use of alcohol, P in V.

You all wanted the second chapter so here it is<3

Safer

Chapter 1 < Chapter 2 > Chapter 3

You winced in pain as Lucifer treated your shoulder. The alcohol was burning through the wound, cleansing it.

You haven’t realized how bad injured your shoulder was. It started to bleed when Striker pushed you on the ground and pressed the shoulder onto a branch.

Lucifer apologized every time you let out a hiss of pain and you answered all the time that he is fine.

“Your shoulder looks pretty bad.” He muttered under his breath as he inspected the wound up close. Your shoulder was purple and was scraped open. “What were you doing?” He asked as he bandaged your shoulder.

“I had to break a stupid door open.” Lucifer laughed a bit, “Why?” He sat down beside you, waiting for your answer. “A zombie was in our classroom and the door was locked. So, I had to do it.” Lucifer raised his eyebrow. ours?

So, you weren’t alone, but no one helped you?

He breathed in the anger that built up in him, he’d rather ask than making assumptions. “No one helped you?” He asked and you Shaked your head.

“I was quite surprised that I was able to move. Normally when I panic, I’m stiff like a board. But I just knew I would not die there, neither will I die soon.” You sigh deeply and crossed your arms in front of you. Like it was a magic shield that would protect you from the danger that awaits you two.

“But at least I have now you, right?” You asked in the silence. Remembering this little precious moment you had with Lucifer, you smiled.

You turned your head to Lucifer who smiled brightly at you. His golden hair looked beautiful like a halo in the sun, with the soft shimmer.

The smile switched quickly to a frown when he heard shuffling from outside. You stood up but Lucifer softly pushed you back, “I’ll look.”

“No.” Lucifer gave an irritated groan, but you didn’t care. Yes, you are not as strong as Lucifer but still, you’re not just going to watch how Lucifer handles all the shit.

Just over your dead body.

“What do you mean with 'no'?” His face was now in front of your face his hot breath tickled the soft skin on your upper lip. “I’m not just going to sit here and watch you do the big things, noodle head.” Lucifer snorts at the newfound nickname.

You clearly made fun out of Lucifers hair color.

“I have a name you know.” He said defensively. You raised your eyebrow in a teasing matter. “So do I, and still you call me 'kitty cat'.” Lucifer raised his hands in defeat and backed up. “As you wish kitty, but don’t cry out for help.” Without injecting much you walked outside leaving lucifer behind you.

Your heart raced like you ran a marathon. The sweat that built on your palm was adding more fear in you. Even though that you wanted to do this, you’re still afraid what waits for you.

And that thing or rather who stood before you was very surprising. The Professor.

Your professor zombie turned on autopilot towards your direction, faster than before.

In the college he? It? was like a toddler who was following you around. but with this pace he suddenly gained, he would quickly catch up to you.

Can a zombie actually learn with time?

You began to wonder if they are more than just brainless monsters.

Your hand travelled to your hip searching for the butterfly knife you had, but it was not there. “Fuck.” The zombie started to sprint into your direction. you closed your eyes and waited for an impact that never came.

Bloody liquid started to soak you completely wet. You gagged at the smell of rotten iron and the feeling of blood all over you. “That’s so disgusting.” You complained as you opened your eyes to look at your red soaked clothes.

You just got them cleaned.

“Are you okay?” Lucifer asked as he dissected your butterfly knife from the zombie corpse. “Yeah, just full soaked of blood. Eugh.” You shake your hands and blood landed on his tuxedo. Lucifer lets out a couple of curses.

“Hey!” He gave you a big frown, “Why did you do that?” You smiled proud at his now dirty tuxedo. “Serves you right.” And he huffed, “This was expensive!” Lucifer complains as you let out a short laugh. “Stop being such a drama Queen. Y’know I am way dirtier than you.” As you continued to laugh Lucifer frown facade broke into a big smile.

“We should burn this human before he starts to attack again.”

_______

You and Lucifer by your side, watched the huge flame that raised high in the sky. A bottle of Vodka right between the two of you, as you watched the zombie gets burned down to his bones.

The smell was unbearable, but the heat was welcomed in such a cold night.

You raised the bottle up to your lips and let the burning liquid down your throat. You grimaced at the bitterness and burning sensation in your mouth and throat.

The alcohol started to warm both of your systems and you let yourself enjoy the feeling of free will.

The reason why you two were here was bad but how you two laughed and shared stories was amazing and something you enjoyed.

The first time you let yourself go with no worries.

A moment where you don’t have to worry about a home and a job.

No. It is just peaceful.

Lucifer was enjoying this night as much as you do.

He was happy that he was with you than anyone else. Maybe his daughter would take the first spot but after that you came.

He never felt like someone was really seeing him. Not even in his own marriage. But you were just different. It was like someone was opening the window for the first time in years and he gladly inhaled the fresh air.

The wind was calm, and the effects of alcohol started to show.

You started to blabber random things and he couldn’t help himself to laugh at your attempt to act sober. “I- I am sober you seeee~” You started to dance near the fire, totally a sign that the alcohol was indeed messing with you.

Lucifer stood up and held his hand out for you. “Please step back from the fire kitty.” You giggled and reached out for his hand, but it was too late.

Your foot slipped above the wet stone underneath you and you fell towards the raging fire behind you. You let out a small scream and Lucifer was fast to hold your hand tight. He pulled you towards him and you landed on his chest.

You stayed there for couple of more seconds before pushing Lucifer away from you. You laughed and continued to sway from side to side.

You sang loudly your favorite song and Lucifer watched you carefully with concerning eyes.

“Maybe you should sleep Y/n.” You Ignored him, but that only result in Lucifer throwing you over his shoulder. You whined a couple of “no’s” when Lucifer carried you to the cabin.

“Stop moving!” Lucifer softly slapped your thigh and you yelped at the sudden outburst. “You really are like a cat.” He said and you pouted.

The next day you got a pretty hard headache and stomach cramps.

Lucifer chuckled when he saw the after affects from your alcohol abuse. Everything was peaceful. Well, that’s what Lucifer was thinking.

You on the other hand had vivid nightmares about striker, zombies and the horror scenario that played in front of you in college.

The days past fast and you found yourself often in a panic and anxious state. You can’t describe why you felt that way. Lucifer started to worry as he saw your emotional dull phase.

“Are you alright kitty?” He asked as he laid a plate of deer steak in front of you. Normally you’d play it off and say everything’s fine. But you told Lucifer the truth. About your nightmares and your panic states.

A frown decorates his features as your sobs reached his ears. You felt pathetic crying in Lucifers arms about some nightmares and anxiety moments.

Lucifer rubbed your back softly. “You need some distraction?” His question caught you off guard, confused you looked up at him. “Huh-? Well… yeah?” What does he mean with distraction?

Lucifer watched as you tried to figure out what he means. Your brain was working so hard that Lucifer began to worry that you’d exhaust yourself.

Dumb little kitten.

His face neared you and he breathed slowly into your ear. “Don’t exhaust yourself little kitten.” His hot breath was tickling your ear and you let out a small laugh at the feeling.

Your body temperature raised when you thought about what Lucifer maybe has planned.

His sharp nail ran across your back and stopped when he reached the clip of your bra. With a swift motion your breast fell free beneath your new shirt.

The new shirt Lucifer and you found in a store in a random grocery store.

“I’m taller than you!” your sudden outburst caught him off guard for a second. A deep chuckle left his lips as he trailed soft kisses down your back.

A soft moan escaped you as Lucifer softly bit down on your shoulder, leaving a red bite mark on your shoulder. Lucifer turned your body around and laid your back softly onto the wood surface.

He wanted to see your expression while he worked with magic on your body. He nibbled on your skin and the marks started to slowly show.

Your breath grew heavy, and the clothes started to stick on your skin. The way Lucifer softly slipped down your underwear, and the hot weather were making it hard to stay in some clothing.

Lucifer's thumb quickly found your clit and started to move his thumb in a circle motion. “Fuck.” How can Lucifer be this good at it?

Striker was always rough with your clit that it hurt and sometimes even drew blood. You thought this was normal, but hell were you wrong.

How Lucifer confidently moved his thumb on your clit was making you see stars.

His middle and ring finger were teasing you even more. How he moved them up and down your folds collecting all the juice that dripped out of your pussy.

But he didn't enter.

His thumb slowed down and you whined needy at his teasing. You moved your hip needily against his hand but his free hand held tight onto your waist making It hard to even move.

“Not so fast kitty,” His face lowers down and kissed your thigh gently. He touched you like you’re made of glass.

“I want to see you beg kitty cat.” Your cheeks heated when his low voice vibrated through your body. At first you refused, but the way Lucifer stopped and slapped your Ass harsh was the last straw and you started to plea.

You hated that you had to beg but your sexual needs were hard to control. Your body and mind begged for relief after all those stressful months.

You moaned loud when you felt Lucifers finger entering you. Normally you would feel embarrassment at the shameless moans and groans that escaped you, but this feels way too good not to.

Lucifer was quick to find your g-spot and you saw black.

Your walls started to clamp down on his finger, pulling him almost deeper inside of you. The sounds your pussy was making when he moved outside was a big turn on for Lucifer.

His finger that was covered in your cum found its way into his mouth as he sucked it dry. Your body shivered when you watched him pulling off this sinful act.

You wanted more and you wanted to taste him.

When you came down from your high you sat up, the wood creaked under you, and you looked up to him.

This truly was a hellish sight for Lucifer. The way your fucked out face was begging for more. How you grabbed his pants with lust littering your eyes, making him whine in desperation.

The smirk that formed on your face was so hot for him.

You pushed Lucifer softly onto the ground and you licked your lips softly. Lucifer laughed a bit confused and scared. What was your plan?

You opened his belt and threw it aside and his pants quickly followed.

Lucifer grew flustered and gulped hard when he saw your greedy eyes. Your gaze lowered towards the large bulge that formed in his boxers.

Now that was something else.

Not even his Ex dared to touch him. She had a life of a typical pillow princess.

When your hands pressed softly at his bulge rubbing it up and down, he can’t help himself but to hiss from the pleasure.

The way how you looked down at him and taking control was making him almost lose control.

You finally slipped down his boxer letting his dick sprung free hitting his lower belly. Your hand grasp around him and you stroked his dick. You made it hard to breath for him with the way you treated him.

Your eyes never left him. And lord was he beautiful.

The way his chest heaved up and down and how red he got. His chest was shining from the sweat that pearled down from his chest. His eyes were glowing in lust and pleasure. His eyes looked red under the moonlight. The light bounced perfect against his paper white skin.

Striker never let you take control and now you understand low-key why.

The way how the other person just fell apart with a mere touch of the other was something else.

Lucifer cursed under his breath when you licked his tip. You gave him a couple of licks before you took his pulsating and twitching member inside your mouth.

The salty and a bit of apple aroma filled your taste buds. He tastes so good.

You bobbed and sucked harder when Lucifer mewls. The way those whiny groans left him. You wanted more. This really is addictive.

He taste so good in comparison to the other guys you gave a blow job. In every way Lucifer seemed imperfectly perfect.

It was the complete opposite how he acted when he gave you head. He was whining your name in a mantra.

“Fuck~ So good!” He moaned when you pressed your tongue on his tip. The warmth of your mouth and how your tongue moved around him felt so fucking good.

It didn’t take long before Lucifer moaned your name out loud and white liquid was pumping into your mouth. Your face left his shaft, and you gulped down his cum.

He whined at how good you were taking his cum.

“That felt… Amazing.” He was completely out of breath. His hair was all messy and falling onto his face. Lucifer restyled his hair as he pressed it behind. “Oh, you think we are done?”

You don’t know what has gotten into you, but you sat down on his now half hard dick.

Lucifer smiled up to you. His breath was still ragged, and he was a blushing mess. But he can’t wait what you have in stack for him.

Your grind your hips on his earning a moan from him. “Tell me what you want.” You whispered into his ear when you stopped. He whined at the sudden loss of friction.

“Kitty please.” He sounded so desperate, and it only fueled you to let him suffer a bit more.

Your soft hands took Lucifers dick, and you rubbed him between his folds. He moaned as his hips stutter forward to feel your gummy walls around his dick, but you didn’t let him.

“I couldn’t hear you Luce.” Lucifers arms rested on your waist, and he pressed you down. The sudden feeling of Lucifers dick inside you made you hold onto Lucifers Shoulder for support. You moaned when Lucifer moved inside you and out.

Lucifer couldn’t take the teasing anymore, so he took it in his own hands. He wanted to you here and now.

“You’re cheating.” You laughed between heavy breathing and Lucifer chuckled under you. “I don’t like to repeat myself.” Even under you he still commands some dominance. Your hips raised and slammed down against him, and he groaned lowly at the sudden harsh movement.

Your tongue went over your dry lips to re-wet them. Lucifer fitted perfectly into you, like he was made for you.

“You were a bad boy Luce.” You said as you moved up and down on his dick and he couldn’t contain his moans to him.

He was loud and he couldn’t care less. You took and rode him so good that he was a complete mess under you. The sound of skin clapping, moaning were buzzing through the wood walls.

Lucifer moaned sweet nothings to you and praised you every time his hips slammed against yours. You two fucked like it was the last day of earth. Two rabbits in heat.

The squelching sound your pussy made when he moved inside you was the end of him.

Lucifer pressed you down on him, a bruising grip on your waist when he filled your insides.

When you two came down from your highs you separated from each other. You sigh as Lucifer moved out of you and you slumped down beside him.

You were so exhausted but also relaxed.

Lucifer looked at you, “How was the distraction?” His breathing was still hard but much clearer now. “The best I’ve ever had.” Lucifer smiled, proud at himself even though you did most of the job.

“We fucked the apocalypse away! Well, for a moment.” You let out a soft laugh at his stupid comment.

“I can’t with you Luce.”

💫

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