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wordsbymae · 6 months

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WarTrophy! Reader x Warlord

With a post-apocalyptic twist. I was gonna do the usual medieval style thing for the warlord, but I got inspired by Mad Max: Thunder Dome (An amazing movie), to do post apocalyptic sorta thing. Any way hope you enjoy!

TW: Gn!reader, Verbal and somewhat physical SA, grubby and sleezy male characters. Reader is from a well looked after community, therefore when the Warlord and his raiders come to town, chaos erupts. Violence, murder, battle and raiding, reader given fem pet names but no gender described. In my mind this is canonically set in Australia, because I am Australian and also mad max is set in Australia and also post-apocalyptic fiction just makes sense when set in Australia. Also reader has nickname blue

They came in the night. No warning, no threat along the horizon. Just pure violence coming to reek havoc in the moonless night. You were awoken to the sounds of screaming, cries burning at your ears. Jumping to your feet you rushed to your window, over looking the community of survivors and refuges. Death was everywhere. The town was alight with flames, the warning siren howling over the sound of shrieks and bellows of fear. You stood in shock and incomprehension for a moment, the shacks, houses and huts were being ransacked by men dressed in camouflaged uniforms. Men and women who tried to defend their homes were being cut down where they stood, or dragged away by their hair. Children were left to fend for themselves, some crying amongst the flames, watching their parents being slaughtered. Loud banging broke you from the spell you were under, someone was trying to break down your door.

"Open up!" A man yelled, continuing to try to kick the scrap metal that made your door. It wouldn't take long, it was barely put together. A split second decision was made in your mind. You couldn't stay where you were, you couldn't even stop to make a plan, or grab anything of use. You had to run, and quickly. Still in your sleepwear, you raced through your house, opening your back down with a grunt, just as your front door was slammed open. You rushed into the back alley, stunned by the destruction laid waste upon your town. You turned your back on your friends, family, community and rushed into the darkness of the buildings, leaving your town to burn.

This town was never truly meant to be a town. Before the Collapse it had been a nothing more than a water treatment plant. In the days and weeks after the collapse, people began flocking to its promise of water. Somehow ever after the loss of electricity, the plant still held thousands of litres of water, making it a refuge for all those who survived the end of the world.

You had been one of the very first to arrive, you had been fortunate to arrive with your parents and a few members of your extended family. You and your family practically built this town, saved this community. There was a reason why people knew who you were, why they moved out of the way as you walked past. It was your family this town was named after, your blood that raised it from ash.

And yet here you were, hiding in the shadows. Running for your life. Granted, there wasn't much you could do. The town lived in peace for so long that only the town militia were tasked with defence. Over the years, bullets, and gunpowder, became in short supply, leaving the hunks of metal once called guns useless. Most were melted down to make melee weapons, are fashioned into more primitive form of muskets. In many ways your town turned back into the past to strive for a better future. Most things were run on steam or water powered. Limited supply of gunpowder was made using items traded with other surviving communities. People turned back to the ways of their fore parents, hunting and farming. Life was good. Until it wasn't.

You came to a sudden halt, quickly hiding behind wooden boxes against the wall. The masked, camouflaged men ran past, yelling orders to one another. You grimaced as you saw a selective few were armed with guns. Pre-collapse guns. Either they were just for show, or someone very smart and determined figured out how to make them work in a time such as these. Most, however, had musket-like weapons and machetes and knives. At least you knew if it came down to it, there was a chance that you just had to be quicker than your assailant rather than having to dodge a bullet to survive.

After they run past, you quickened towards the wooden wall that encircled your town. In some places it was reinforced with steel and rock, but it would take decades to finally make a proper defensive structure. As the child of the founding family, you knew exactly what you were looking for. Once, when the wall was still being erected, and nothing but a metal fence separated you and the raiders of the new world, you had found a hole in the fence. Big enough that you and your childhood friend had been able to sneak out of town into the great unknown. Even when they began to reinforce it with wood and steel, you made sure the hole was still uncoverable.

You landed on your knees in front of where you remembered the hole to be. Footsteps were hurrying towards you. Raiders, friends or terrified civilians, you did not know. You focused purely on pushing the scrap of metal from covering the hole, leaning down, you pushed with all your might the large rock you had shimmed into place last time you had snuck out. It had been years since you had down so, it was just before Red had left, there was no need to sneak out anymore if he wasn't there to follow. You crawled through the hole, end in sight. The hole feeling much smaller than it did as a child. You knew your family would make it out. They would have to, right? So would friends and comrades. They were smart. Like you. They knew when to abandon ship.

If there had been a warning then of course you would have stayed, till the very end. Your task for the community was Peacemaker, a diplomate of this new crazed world. You were quite good at it too. Negotiation and diplomacy your strongest skills. If they had given warning, maybe you could reason with them, maybe no one had to have died. But raiders that come in the dark of night, killing all they willed , were not the sort of combatant you stayed around to reason with. Your task was to live, to survive, then to come back and rebuild. Always rebuild, as your parents had done all those years ago.

The metal of the broken fence dug into your hips, bringing forth a hiss of pain from your lips. You pushed through the pain, cursing as the metal dug deeper and deeper. With one last gasp, you heaved your hips through the fence, feeling the metal rip at the fabric of your clothes. Just as you were about to get up, run straight for the safety of the wilderness, a harsh grip landed on your ankle. Before even a thought could pass through your mind. You were dragged back, with force, through the hole. You screamed and kicked. Hands digging into the ground, fingers and nails desperately trying to find a hold in the soft dirt. You were flipped over. A man leering down at you.

"Ain't you a pretty thing, aye?" he sneered, his mouth opening in a wicked smile, showcasing missing and yellowed teeth. You scrunched your face in disgust, both at the sight in front of you and his hand gripping tighter onto your ankle. You were about to use your free leg to give him a swift kick, but the sight of a large hunting knife in his hand made you pause. He followed your gaze to it.

"Aw don't worry love, I'm not gonna use this thing on you, long as ya don't make a fuss." His smile grew, showcasing more blacked and cracked teeth. His face was a red blotchy colour, sweat dripped from his forehead, his weak chin wobbled as he spoke. In the fire light you could see the red veins of his eyes.

You tested his grip on you, trying to catch him unaware. Instead it backfired, resulting in him sitting on top of you, letting your ankle go.

"You be good for me sweets and I'll try to be as gentle as I can yeah?" he chuckled, your blood running cold. This man wanted something from you and there was no reason in the world that would stop him. You cannot reason with an evil man. You began to shriek, preferring him to killing you now than to suffer the injustice of his touch.

"Nobodies coming to save ya darl', Best ya get used to being on your back for me, it's gonna be real familiar by the time I get tired of you. Make me cum enough and I might just keep you" he leaned down against you, tongue licking up along your cheek. You began to trash harder, screaming. Begging. Praying. For anything, for anyone to came save you. He laughed at your misery, lifting him self back up to undo his belt.

"You ready for me to make you my whor-" a gargle where words should follow. You watched in shock as a knife was plunged in the back of his skull. Blood splattered down on you, your mouth open wide in fear and relief. You scrambled back as the evil man fell forward. You backed up against the wall, you could feel the wind blowing through the hole, your escape route still open. You started to make a mad dash for the opening, not thinking or even able to process what had happened, only focusing on what might have happened, what that man was intent on doing.

In a sick sense of Deja vu, you were once ripped from the opening. You were a bundle of feet and hands punching and kicking in all directions, your voice was hoarse from screaming bloody murder. A strong set of arms pulled you against them, and you fought like hell to be free.

"It's alright blue, its alright" came a familiar and calming voice. Only one person called you that in favour of your real name. You opened your eyes, there he was. Alive, breathing and surrounded by masked, camouflaged men.

"Red?" you whispered, not daring to shatter this illusion that he was still alive, that he had found his way back to you. You must be going mad. That evil man must have killed you, or you died in the smoke and flames burning your town. You blinked, pinched yourself. Even reached a hand to touch his face.

"It's me blue" he smiled, a perfect, lovely smile. Just as you remembered.

The men behind him shifted, causing you to panic, you grabbed red's hand and tried to run. You weren't gonna lose him again.

Instead of running into the fray once more, you were pulled back to red's arms.

"Red! We have to go! They'll kill us, please!" You begged, eyes looking into his warm brown ones. He places his hands on your arms, essentially trapping you were you stood.

"Red?" you questioned, why wasn't he worried, why weren't the men descending on you both with knifes raised. What was going on?

The fires had begun to die down, the screaming and crying was replaced with whispers of fear and a few sobs cried into the night. The warning siren slowed down to a halt.

"Red?" you whispered, not a question but a plea.

'Please still be the boy I knew before'

He looked down into your eyes, a sigh making its way pasted his lips.

He turns to his men.

"Bring all the prisoners to the town centre, no one is to harm the survivors unless I deem so. That includes coercing or forcing yourselves onto anyone. Understand?" he orders. His men giving a quick nod and salute before turning into the dying lights of the fire.

"No" you exclaim.

No, no, no, no, no

You shake your head, tears threatening to fall.

"You are one of them?" you gasp. The boy you knew as a child, the boy you had come to love, the boy who disappeared into the night, on a night eerily similar to this, returned as a raider, a killer, a monster.

A gives you a slight smirk, hands gripping you tighter.

"I'm not just one of them blue, I command them, I rule them" he boasts. A wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Traitor" you hiss. "You fucking monster! You absolute fucking bastard!"

Your anger overwhelmed whatever love you still had for him. Curled fists began attacking him, aiming for the face, when that wasn't enough to quell your fury, you tried scratching out his eyes. A pain seared across your face, you became unbalanced and fell on the very man who had threatened you a mere minute ago. Red had slapped you, caused you pain. One might argue you deserved it, lashing out like that. Most would say that's fucking irrelevant since he caused the destruction and violent occupation of your town.

"C'mon blue, you really gonna act out? I was being so nice too. Saved you from this fucker didn't I? Could've just let him have you" he pouted, head tilting to watch you try standing back up, giving the man's body a small kick while doing so. You balked at the sight of the evil man, his eyes still unnerving, even more so that he is dead, the movement of Red's kick, gave you the sick impression he was still alive.

A dangerous idea spread into your mind. The hunting knife lay unclaimed next to you. Red was unarmed as far as you could tell. You clasped the knife in a hurry, but before being able to take a slash or even stand up, Red's boot came crushing down onto your wrist. You squealed in pain, releasing the knife in a instant. His free boot kicked the knife away.

"Is that anyway to welcome home an old mate?" he tsked, "I know its been a few years, but come on blue, really? This? Trying to take me out with a knife?"

"What the fuck Red" you gasped, boot still crushing your wrist. "What the hell is going on, raiding? Seriously? this town was your home! How could you turn on us like that. How-how could you turn on me?" Pain, both physical and emotional rushed through your voice, once more tears began to spring, from the pain or the torment of knowing that your best friend was responsible for the death of dozens in your community.

"C'mon Blue! It ain't personal. Just the business of surviving. You think it brings me joy to burn this place to the ground? I mean to be honest it kinda does, but you know that story. But we don't have time to talk about that, right now you and I have a speech to get to." he grins, dark and cold. No way this is the curly haired kid you knew as a child. Red back then could barely kick a toad than massacre innocent civilians.

You let out a sigh of relief as he removes his boot. Only to let out a yelp in surprise as you are thrown over his shoulder.

"Let me go!" you cry, wiggling and worming in his hold.

"Not yet love! Got places to see and people to humiliate" his deranged laugh filled the silent streets you called home.

Before you only were able to see the destruction from a window still, or when you were at the edges of the fight. But now, now you saw everything. You watched in sorrow as you passed the bakery, still blazing alone, as the houses and shakes next to it had been pulled down. The school had been ransacked, pages and books lining the street in silent array. Childs' drawings danced lifelessly across the ground in the breeze.

Without even seeing where he was taking you, you knew where you were going. The town centre. A magnificent fig tree, alone in its splendour made for quite the impressive centre piece of the town. Speeches, weddings, announcements, birthdays and funerals were all held under its comforting branches. It calmed you to still see it still standing. Leaves fell with a hush down from its branches, as if it was crying watching the town that loved it go up in smoke.

You could hear your townspeople's whispers of fear and confusion as the watched you be carried into line of sight. You could see most of the towns population was still alive. The small group of men who were spared were pushed to one side, guarded heavily, despite being made up of elders, young boys, and a few injured men. The cluster of women and children were larger. You could see your friends and family in both groups. All accounted for, thank goodness. You were placed onto the ground and given to two guards, both quickly clasping onto your arms like their lives depended on it. You were off to the side, as Red sauntered his way to front and centre. He always loved being the centre of attention.

"Good people! How's it going?" he exclaimed, arms open wide and a smile gracing his lips. You could see confusion, vague recognition and just plain hatred line people's faces. More importantly you saw your parents both looking at you in absolute despair. You gave them a short smile and a nod, taking a deep breath when they followed suit.

Red began to speak again.

"Some of you may remember me, other's may not. I was one of you once, another member of this pathetic, weak society. You have no strength, despite your numbers. No courage or skill in warfare. Just a load of farmers, tradesmen and women. If this was any other town I would slaughter you all" he grins as if he is discussing a lovely day spent at the beach. Whispers become murmurs. Murmurs become barely contained talks of a massacre, of your towns soon extinction. You began to take shallower, faster breaths.

"Alright, calm down everyone. Maybe we need to work on our listening skills, aye? Now, let's put on our listening caps everyone. I said if you were any other town. Lucky for you bastards I actually like you guys! I had a good run here. Made some lovely mates" a pointed look thrown in your direction. "And was pretty well looked after, well until, you know. So in honour of the good times I had here. I have a compromise for you all." He clasps his hands together, and teeters back and froth from his toes to his heels.

"My men and I have already killed a whole bunch of ya, so how bout we move on from that, aye? You guys are gonna have to boost your numbers after my little stunt, and who better than the very people who massacred your friends and family!" looks of bitter disgust flow across the crowd.

"Yikes, bit of a tough crowd yeah. Alright look, the fellas and I used to have a pretty good place. But the waters run dry and also we're getting up in years, and so we're looking for a place to settle down. To have people to settle down with. So yeah we killed a whole bunch of your men, but hey! We're here to replace that gap. Maybe even help you guys with the whole defence side of things. I mean were those soldier fellas of yours even trained? They were easier to kill than a dead roo!" he barks out a laugh, his men following suit.

'What the fuck is wrong with him' you thought. Clearly years in the bush led to insanity.

"Oh! Before I forget" he stares in your direction, slowly making his way over. You squirm under his gaze uncomfortably. "If you little shits try any sort of rebellion or some shit like that. I'll slit their pretty little throat."

In a moment he brings a knife close to your throat. You reach your chin up, desperate to remove the icy sensation away from you. You look at where his eyes are directed, straight towards your mother, then slowly transferred to your father. Without their approval, any hope of rebellion or uprising is dashed. You are the perfect hostage.

"Great! Glad we could have this chat. So go have a good ole' sleep. Got a whole day of cleaning up to do tomorrow!" he beams, pulling the knife away just as quickly as he produced it. He turns his back on the towns people, grabbing your arm from one of the guards. You are dragged past the fig tree towards the council hall, located within the old water treatment plant. It is then you see how truly outnumbered you were. Nearly over a hundred men, all masked and camouflaged, line the water treatment plant, even with the men who were killed, there was no way your town could have fought them off.

You pulled back from Red, trying to get him to release his grasp.

"What is it blue? Thought you'd be happier to see your childhood mate"

"Fuck you, you dog" you spit, anger clear as day.

Red halts, and turns to you.

"Don't make me hurt you again."

It wasn't what he said, more so than how he said it. He's eyes lost their humanity, his features fell into sudden darkness, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You were looking into the eyes of an evil man.

You gave a quick nod, hoping he would lose interest.

"Good!" he cheers, and goes back into dragging you up the steps to the plant.

"Ya know I've never had a war trophy before" he mumbles

"Pardon?" confusion across your face turning into disgust

"You, your a war trophy." he deadpans as if its the simplest thing in the world to understand.

"I'm not a trophy" you grumble

"Cause you are, pretty enough, and you really think I'm ever gonna let you outta my sight again Blue? I've been dreaming about this day for years."

You carefully gazed up at him, his grasp on you had begun to soften.

He notices your confusion, or want for an explanation at the very least.

"You really think I would attack this place for water? Or for my men's retirement plan? Nah, blue. I burnt this town down for you, and I'd do it ten times over if you just asked."

It is then you are reminded of the skinny, lanky boy you made friends with as a child. Your mother used to laugh and call him your dog, when your father said it, he said it with annoyance. It was true, Red followed you around like a pup, always doing what you wanted and when. You didn't like remembering the day he left, mainly cause he was practically run out of town. It just took a slip of your tongue, it was an accident after all. You were a child, and didn't realise that sometimes words were dangerous. You didn't realise how much Red took your words to heart, or how much he cared to.

' Red, sometimes I just wish...'

'What blue? Tell me, I'll make it true'

'Well I just wish he was dead!'

You knew Red was being perfectly honest when he said he would burn this town down if you asked. He had already tried before.

I don't know about the ending or if reader is really a war trophy but the words came and i just put them down.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere drabble #yandere prompts #gn!reader #yandere x gn!reader #tw violence #murder #oc #SA

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moonlight-prose · 2 years

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HURT

➝ 01. THE CURSE OF THE FOLD

a/n: apocalyptic stories are probably one of my favorite genres to write, because angst is my bread and butter. so here i am writing the angsiest fucking story ever. i've plotted it entirely and worked on it while waiting for the show to drop to finally post this. so hopefully you enjoy. (this takes place about ten years before the last of us.)

summary: you were alone; watched everyone you love die or you killed them yourself. and you thought it would remain that way forever...till him.

word count: 6k+

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: not sexually explicit but still 18+ (READ AT YOUR OWN RISK BUT BE AWARE), gore, violence, tw blood, angst, death, assault, one bed trope, gratuitous prose about the apocalypse setting, probably ooc writing for joel, more angst. please let me know if i missed anything.

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You were going to die. That was no longer a concept that you found to be impossible in your early stages of life. No, you knew you would die sooner rather than later. You knew that survival was a thing to strive for and death had become something to welcome. When the world turns to shit, leaving humanity on their own to fight against monsters, death didn’t seem so scary in the long run.

It became peaceful—an end that you found to be the better option. You’d rather die by the hands of humans or your own than become one of those things. Turning wasn’t the way you’d go. It was brutal and horrific; left more heartache behind than the desired numbing sensation you hoped came with death. No, you refused to become something that was no longer deemed a human, but was now viewed as a monster.

This was a promise you made to yourself ten years ago and even now as you stared down the barrel of a gun, you knew you made the right choice. Death would be swift—an end to your life that you found satisfaction in—rather than something you feared every fucking day.

You’d stopped on your journey in an attempt to find a safe situation for the night. One that wouldn’t leave you running in the morning; for a brief moment you figured this town would do the trick. You could hide out until the sun came up and finally find a few peaceful hours of sleep. There was no one around for miles (at least you assumed as much) and what few infected were around you could handle yourself. You weren’t the best with a gun, but you could protect yourself when your life was on the line.

If only you had kept going, then maybe you wouldn’t be in this fucked situation.

The scent of gunpowder burned in the air, the potent bitterness of blood mixed with it—creating a lethal combination. You ran out of bullets two dead bodies ago—reaching for the fallen weapon by your side when three more men came out of the darkness. Their faces were covered by dirty worn-in bandanas with only their eyes showing, illuminated by the dim lights of the moon, but it was in their eyes that you saw the truth. They were hollow. Just like the other three men who thought they could come after you. Their souls disappeared a long time ago, only to leave the remnant of a human shell that was forced to do things in order to survive.

This particular sight wasn't unusual to you in the slightest.

You’d seen the best of people become tainted, broken. After all, you were one of them. The consequences of this fucking virus reached you as well; tearing the life you built up to pieces. Leaving you to watch the ashes of what came before float in the air.

You were the veteran of a war without end. A survivor of the life that only wished to see you gone and buried. The longer you looked at them—the man you figured to be the leader stepping forward—the more you understood why humans did what they did.

They were an idiotic group of people that let things fester; that would watch the world burn ten times over before helping those around them.

He gripped your hair, yanking it until your hoarse scream of pain echoed in the night air. The barrel of the gun was shoved beneath your chin, his dark eyes watching in glee as you struggled. He loved to feel the rush of power, watching as people grew helpless to his actions. You understood that just from looking at him. Yet another pathetic man that believed he could take what he wanted from someone traveling alone. So you stopped fighting. You froze in his hold, fixing him with a smile so sweet he could have sworn it was made of sugar cane.

“You’re afraid to die,” you said softly, wincing when his hold tightened.

“Shut the fuck up,” he spit, his voice was deep yet ingrained with the hesitation of a man who didn’t like that you touched so close to the truth.

You knew this game. A sick and twisted version of a power play in order to believe that they held the upper hand in this situation. When in fact that remained far from the truth. Though you held no weapon, no more chances of survival—you had something they didn't. You didn't fear what came next. It was a better deal than this shit one right here.

Your heart slowed to a steady beat; the welcoming hope re-entering your heart with each baited breath you took. When would he finally pull the trigger? When would you finally have peace? When would the pain—the torture—finally cease? You hoped the lingering questions all came with the same answer. Soon.

"Go ahead," you prompted, going so far as to tilt your chin in his direction—feeling the press of the gun's barrel dig deeper into your skin.

His finger hovered over the trigger, before—much to your dismay—he pulled it away. "You're feisty." You heard the jeering laughter of his friends in the background. "How about we just bring you with us?"

Your stomach dropped. A new unlocked fear sending a chill down your spine. There was always something worse than being turned into a monster, always something far more horrific than not dying by your own hands. It was being trapped in a cage with no lock and no key to get you out.

Fighting against his hold, you tried to grab the gun on the ground, but he yanked you back—the disgusting scent of his breath washing over your face. "Looks like I found what you're afraid of."

"Fuck you,” you spit in his face, struggling against his hold. You refused to be taken, to be treated like an animal put up for slaughter.

He merely laughed, his hold on you tightening with each twist of your body. Dropping your weight, you waited for him to jeer at his friends before slamming the heel of your boot into his foot. As expected, his arms fell away from your body, a howl of pain splintering through the night air. It was enough for you though. He may look tough, but he didn’t seem to be able to handle pain so easily. Yanking yourself free, you felt a cold chill wash over your body as the adrenaline spiked in your body—telling you to keep going. To fight until you were finally free.

Three against one wasn’t entirely in your favor, but you held one thing close to your heart—a belief that would keep you going till your last breath. If there was nothing else to fight for—no one else—then you would fight for yourself. For the past you that used to be desperate for a life, for meaning and purpose. Those two words didn’t mean jackshit anymore in this fucked up world, but to you it meant everything.

Grabbing the metal pipe that looked like it was torn off of a plumbing system, you put what little skill you had in your swing. Really it extended to one softball game in highschool, where you ended up with a ball to the face and a measly participation trophy. You barely had time to even swing the bat before chaos ensued. But it was enough for you.

Lining up your hit you swung.

The pipe hit with a sickening crack against his face, a splatter of red falling to the floor as he fell to one knee. You were pretty sure that you loosened a tooth in his rotten mouth and had half a mind to tear the rest out with your bare hands. His buddies began to advance, their makeshift weapons being pulled from their sides as they spit curses your way. The words of your father echoed in your mind as you took another swing, hitting against one’s side, jamming your elbow into his throat when he curled in on himself.

If you find yourself in a fight, you never let them take you out first.

“Piece of shit,” you snarled, your already bloody and raw fist slamming against the side of his face.

“Grab her arms dumbass!”

Ducking under their outstretched arms, you fumbled with the small screwdriver you found on a trek through one of the houses. With a huffed out breath, you jabbed it into the third guy's armpit, grinning at his cries of agony. He fell to his knees, trying very carefully to take it out without killing himself. Giving you enough to run outside.

The cold air was sharp in your lungs, the anxiety of the situation now rushing through your veins and causing your heart to beat erratically. But you were free.

“You fucking bitch!” The main man roared, his boots thumping harshly against the cracked cement.

Sprinting, you tried to keep a quick pace down the empty street, but the fear of running into anything overlapped the fear of dealing with an already injured man. So, like an idiot you stopped. He was limping, a gash stretching across his cheek and turning his pale skin red. A feral anger flashed in his eyes like an animal hunting its prey; coming in for the final kill. You knew he could practically taste your blood on his tongue.

Your chest heaved, the breath leaving you faster than you could keep it in your lungs, but you wouldn’t go quietly. That was a death you would not accept. No, he’d take you down fighting until you eventually dragged him down to hell right alongside you. If you couldn’t survive, you’d leave behind something to remember. Your hands curled into fists, teeth baring as you watched him approach slowly. The energy in your body was beginning to wane, exhaustion seeping in, but you kept your stance.

Forever choosing to be stubborn.

You never expected the loud bang of a shotgun to go off behind you. The man fell back, his head hitting the sidewalk with another crack—turning the asphalt a darker shade of black. Fear shot down your spine, the realization that you couldn’t fight against someone with a gun while you stood with nothing. You remained still, frozen and watching in horror as the man who nearly ended your life was wiped from this planet entirely. In a way you were relieved, but the knowledge that someone else was walking up to you quickly dampened that feeling instantly.

“You okay?”

The man’s voice was deep, gruff, with a southern drawl you’d heard once before in college. You couldn’t respond—your heart still lodged in your throat. If you were in the right state of mind, you’d say your body was going into shock. His boots stopped a foot away from you, calling your attention as he stood, the shotgun still gripped tightly in his hands.

For a brief moment you allowed your eyes to trail up his figure. Taking in the dirty brown leather jacket that looked like it’d seen better days, jeans with a sewn up hole in the knee, and a black t-shirt. You barely skimmed his face, drinking in his slightly graying dark hair and scruff before he was asking you another question.

“Did he hurt you?” His eyes were focused on the blood that stained your once clean shirt.

“It’s not mine,” you said softly, the panic now wearing off—relinquishing its hold over your body.

He nodded, his brown eyes fixing back on yours. “Are there more?”

“Not anymore,” you replied, staring at the house in the distance.

Oblivious to the slight hint of surprise in his eyes, you felt him step closer. To which you responded by stepping back, keeping the distance as much as possible. You didn’t need to fight another man tonight, who’s weapons far outweighed your own fighting capability. But then he raised his hands as if in surrender. He held his ground, waiting for you to come back to the present, before trying once more to take a small step in your direction.

This time…you let him.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.”

How could you be so sure that his words were the truth? There was a small voice in the back of your head that told you to keep running. Run until you had no choice but to stop. Till you were finally safe from the dangers of this world. Yet you knew that danger was everywhere, plaguing the very ground you walked on and this man…had just saved your life.

Rarely did you find people who wished to help you. Who were simply there as a stroke of luck in your seemingly endless string of awful situations. Once you used to run with people, be a part of a group that watched your back as intently as you watched theirs. But pain and grief seemed to follow you like a ghost. Haunting every turn you made on this never ending journey.

Voicing your thoughts, you fought back against the urge to flee. “You just shot a man and you’re telling me you won’t hurt me?”

“A man who was trying to kill you.”

He had you there.

“What’s your name?” you asked, quickly glancing in the distance—wary that something would come from the darkness.

“Joel.”

You met his brown eyes again. “Why are you here?”

He shrugged, turning away from your scrutinizing gaze. You made his skin itch with just that single look, but he could recognize the underlying fear that flared every now and then in your eyes. A look he once wore when all this shit started. Joel didn’t get scared very often anymore, having seen his fair share of horrors. But seeing you stand there helpless, yet ready to die fighting tooth and nail, made his heart lurch in a way it hadn’t in sometime.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He hiked his bag up higher on his shoulder, catching the way the fading sunlight began to dip below the houses. Casting the both of you in darkness. “Why were you running?”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms against your chest. “Usually when people try to kill me I run.”

Thankfully he didn’t question what was the motive behind their intentions. Already understanding most of it. Once again he glanced at the sky, knowing that if you didn’t find shelter soon you’d be knee deep in shit. He didn’t want that to be how either of you ended. So, he turned away from you, gesturing for you to follow him. If you were smart you’d do it without question, but Joel had a feeling you were stubborn down to your core.

“Where are you going?” you called out, confirming his suspicions with only a few words.

He nearly chuckled. “Finding shelter for the night.”

Catching up, you fell into step beside him. “You won’t kill me right?”

That time he chuckled; the sound striking you in your heart unexpectedly. “You sure are untrustworthy aren’t you?”

“Yeah well…” You fiddled with the strap on your nearly torn backpack. “I haven’t trusted anyone in a while.”

Neither had he.

He didn’t say it outloud though. Joel already knew what came upon those that dared to open themselves up in the midst of anguish. He’d been on the receiving end of that pain and chose to close himself off to it. It would help him more in the long run, than letting the feeling dig its way into his heart. Gnawing away at his insides like a meal.

What he was doing now…keeping you close when in fact you may very well kill him, wasn’t like him. He had half a mind to keep going—leave you here to fend for yourself. But then his eyes met yours, and there was that look. That pain he knew too well. Back when he thought he was going to die without a way to save himself.

He saw himself in you and maybe that’s why he allowed you to traipse along beside him.

You didn’t take kindly to people very often. Preferring to go it alone after what happened with the people you once knew, and this was no different. Staying with him for one night before parting ways would mean nothing to you in the long run. Just another stranger you passed by in the hopes of finding somewhere safe to land. You hoped that this town would be it; that you wouldn’t have to go anywhere for a long time. But the blood on your shirt continued to prove you wrong.

“There’s a two story house about a block away with a fence going around the property.”

He nodded, changing directions and heading towards the old brown building that had seen better days. The windows were broken, the front yard overgrown with weeds, and you weren’t sure if the door worked. It would have to do for the night. You couldn’t risk staying out in the open. Not when those men had found you so easily as they were passing through.

The scent of pine filled your nose as you stepped towards the black gate covered in dead vines. A large tree stood in the center of the yard—beautiful amidst the destruction caused by the world falling to pieces. You wondered what it used to look like—who lived here—before you pushed open the gate. The loud creak echoing in the night air, sent chills down your spine. Perhaps the ghosts of the owners still resided here. Wandering the halls of their former home in the hopes of finding some serenity in the chaos.

Or perhaps…they were infected.

That thought alone nearly made you back away from the property, but Joel walked right in. He seemed to hold no qualms about the building or its past. To him it was just a place to stay until he had to move right along to the next one. He held no permanency in this world—not anymore—and it had been a long time since he hoped for some.

Staying somewhere permanent always ended in death. Or at least that’s what he believed.

“You never answered my question,” you said, following him slowly up the path and to the front porch that was caved in at one spot.

The door opened with a similar haunting creak, similar to the gate; filling your senses with a musty scent of old furniture and molding wood. He crossed the threshold without another word, his hand still gripping the shotgun’s strap on his shoulder. If you were smart, you’d part ways with him right here. You would find a different house to stay in for the night before leaving this place behind when the sun rose. Yet the lingering feeling from earlier still remained in your chest.

If he wanted to kill you, he wouldn’t have saved you.

“Looks old,” you noted, staring at the furniture in what once was a put together living room. Now the couches were torn up, most likely by animals, and the floorboards had water damage to them.

A ripped painting hung above the mantle on the fireplace, small pieces of the original owners coming through strokes of a brush. You caught a glimpse of a girl with red hair and blue eyes. A woman with the exact same features on the other side. A tear went through the middle, severing the young boy and man. Turning the painting into something else entirely.

The sound of his footsteps bounced off the wooden walls as he came downstairs again. Catching you staring at the painting with an intensity in your eyes that he’d never seen before. For a moment he left you alone. Gave you this time to linger in the space of what once was—what would never be again. He used to be torn up about things like this, but eventually he learned that the past would never change, and the future was nothing but a continuous fight for survival.

Eventually he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him. “There’s a bedroom upstairs still in pretty good shape.”

You nodded, moving away towards the stairs. “What are the chances of this house still having running water?”

“Slim.”

Something about that response made you smile. You couldn’t put your finger on why, but you took it for what it was.

The bedroom still looked relatively normal, despite the torn comforter and water stained ceilings. The musty smell still remained—the copper scent from blood on your shirt not helping. You wondered if you’d get lucky and find clothes in the closet. Or at least a shirt that could act as a replacement. You made sure to make a mental note to check for that later.

“You can uh—you can take the bed.”

Once again your lips twisted up into somewhat of a grin. “Thank you,” you replied softly, glancing his way briefly.

You’d remember him for his kindness.

That was evident in your mind as you moved towards the bathroom. In all your years of surviving, you’d never taken so quickly to a person. For some unknown reason it felt like you’d known each other for some time—already acting like you’d been on the same journey together. When in fact he would leave tomorrow (as would you) and you’d be lucky if you came across each other again.

Maybe in another life, you mused.

Sure enough, no water came from the sink. You sighed, dropping your head forward as an ache began to spread through your forehead. What you wouldn’t give for an aspirin right about now. Shit, what you wouldn’t give for a stiff drink and a good night’s sleep. They were luxuries you hadn’t partaken in since the world was normal. When you were younger and life still had a bright hue of color about it.

You sighed, scrubbing a hand down your face before exiting back to the bedroom. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his bag on the ground by his feet and shotgun across his lap. The single sight made you think about a sculpture you’d seen in a class you’d taken before the world fell apart. Of a man sitting in the hand of god, his body curling in on itself—the weight of the world crushing him down.

Even now in the horror that became this world, life imitated art.

“Any water?” he asked, breaking your focus.

“Huh?” You glanced at the sink behind you. “Oh…no it’s dry.”

He nodded. “I’ll take the blanket.”

Standing, he winced slightly before gathering what remained of the blanket at the bottom of the bed. Just the sight caused your heart to twist. You damned yourself, wishing that you could be like everyone else. Able to watch someone else suffer on the sidelines while you protected yourself. Except you couldn’t. Not when you were taught your entire life to care for those in need; to share what you could with others.

“You already said you weren’t going to kill me,” you began, saying it with a slight smile. “So I don’t see why you should take the floor.”

For a brief moment his whole body stiffened, causing you to wonder if you’d stepped over a line. A boundary that he didn’t want to cross with strangers he just met.

“Why?” he asked, turning to face you with an unreadable expression on his face.

You shrugged. “The bed’s too big for me.”

It was partially true. The mattress looked like it would swallow you whole if you let it, but you knew the truth. And something told you he knew as well. He saved your life—this was the least you could do in return. A thank you without actually saying the words. An act of kindness that left a lingering warmth in his chest he hadn’t felt since before the outbreak.

He hesitated, staring at the soft plush bed that would no doubt give his back some relief for the night. “You sure?”

“Yes,” you said without a semblance of doubt in your voice.

Trusting someone this much may wind up to be a mistake on your part, but you pushed that thought aside for the moment. He would most likely be gone before you woke up. Or at least that’s what you told yourself. Sitting on the opposite side of the bed, you allowed your fingers to dig into what remained of the sheets. They were yellowed with age, stained by time, but still soft enough to nearly startle you.

You felt the bed dip on the other side when he sat down.

“You still haven’t answered my question.”

He sighed, the sound deep and ragged. “Not someone to give up easily are you?”

Once again your lips curved into a slight grin. “Nope.”

“I’m heading to Boston. Happened to be passing through on my way here.”

A sensation akin to fear streaked down your spine so quickly, you barely had any time to react. The name sent chills through your whole body. Boston. A city you hadn’t heard about since you left it. You could remember the day vividly; could practically taste the difference in the air as you exited your dorm room. You hadn’t known it then, but your entire world would shift in only a few hours.

You were barely nineteen at the time of the outbreak. Still a kid starting your second year of college with nothing ahead of you but time. Until the campus fell into chaos. You could still remember the screams; the agony of people losing the ones they cared about, to something worse than death.

“You know…” The memories still replayed in your mind on an endless loop. Like a movie with no end. “I went to school in Boston.”

That small detail seemed to catch his attention, because he angled his body slightly to see you better. “You did?”

You nodded, doing your best to breathe evenly in order to stave off the anxiety filling your body. “I was majoring in art history. I wanted to work in a museum one day.”

“Yeah?” He watched you turn slowly, the tension in your muscles dropping slightly the more you told him. “Which one?”

“The Met was my dream job before…”

He sighed, expression shifting to one of understanding. There were plans he had for himself, goals for his life for his family, but now that he could see the bleakness of what his future held, he’d given up the simple act of dreaming. What was there to dream about anyways? But he could see it in you. The hope that remained just beneath the surface of your sorrowful gaze. You were too young when it happened, too young to lose your life that quickly.

“I’ve been there.”

The grief faded slightly, a light returning to your face. “Really?”

He nodded, shifting until he was sitting with his leg extended on the mattress, back pressed to the headboard. “Back when I was in high school, we took a trip up there.”

Mimicking him, you felt the relief in your spine as you finally moved to a comfortable position. “What did you think?”

“Well I’m no expert in art, but I liked it.”

If you weren’t careful you would wind up falling asleep in the middle of speaking. But you fought against the exhaustion that seeped into your bones. Adamant on remaining awake, just to talk to him for a bit longer. His brown eyes watched you settle into a laying down position, your hands clasped together against your stomach. The blood on your shirt had dried to a deep brown color—until you could hardly tell it was there anymore.

“No one has to be an expert in art to appreciate its beauty,” you said softly, staring at the light brown stain in the ceiling that formed rings. It reminded you of what the inside of trees looked like. “I think all you have to do is see it and that’s enough.”

Joel settled in beside you, his back practically screaming in joy at having such a plush bed beneath him.

“Take the portrait downstairs,�� you continued, unaware that he had turned his head to watch you. “Anyone can tell it used to be a well painted piece of art, but now it’s torn, severing the image of the family entirely. I think it’s poetic.”

He hummed, catching your attention and causing you to turn your head until your nose practically brushed his. “Poetic huh?”

“It reminds me of my past,” you whispered, taking in the soft lines that were beginning to form on his face. “Tells you a lot about what might have happened here.”

Joel didn’t respond, letting your words settle in his mind. Oblivious to the way they sunk into his heart as well, breaking down a small minuscule piece of the walls he’d placed there. The sound of the crickets outside rang through the open windows, filling the silent spaces between the two of you. He wondered what came before this for you—what would come after this.

“Do you have a place to go after this?” he asked, seeing your eyes grow heavy.

You shook your head. “I haven’t had a place to go in a long time.”

A part of your mind wanted to tell him that you did in fact have somewhere to go, but you couldn’t get the words out. You found that you liked his company; that you didn’t mind who he was as a person. Even though you knew nothing but his name and his path. Except to you…that was enough.

“I hear there’s a quarantine zone down in Boston.” He couldn’t get the question out, letting its implication hang in the air between you in the hopes that you’d understand. Thankfully, you did.

The breath caught in your lungs as you considered it. Returning to the place where it all began for you. The place where your future was meant to start. Just like the painting, you found it poetic in the most gruesome way. But something sour built in your chest. A feeling that told you to stay here; that if you left you’d find your way to even more destruction.

You chose to ignore it in the end.

“Okay,” you breathed, attempting a half-hearted sleepy smile before your eyes fell shut against your own will.

When you woke up, you’d deal with what this meant and how it would work, but you refused to let sleep elude you this time. Whether or not he fell asleep slipped past your mind—your body giving up after hours of strain. The ache would begin in the morning; pain you were familiar with and even welcomed. However for that moment, you were free of it; of the grief that was burrowed so deep in your heart you were afraid it’d never leave.

Unbound from the horrors that awaited you in the early hours of dawn.

You heard the birds first, chirping in the pine tree as they let the rest of the world know that the early morning hours of the day had finally arrived. You felt his arm around your waist, second. Sometime in the night you’d gone from lying side by side, barely touching shoulders, to him pressed firmly against your back. His breath hit the back of your neck, warm and accompanied with the odd snore here and there. It sent shivers down your spine.

Though you both wore several layers of clothing to stay warm during the night, you could still feel the heat of his palm seeping into your stomach. He was still asleep and while you might have agreed to go with him last night, you knew that it was better to leave and go it alone. After all, that’s what you’d been doing.

Holding your breath so as not to make any more noise, you began to shift away from him. Unfortunately for you, his grip on you was a bit too tight for you to remove. You didn’t want to disturb him. What with everything that happened last night. The fear was still a bitter taste on your tongue—reminding you that you could have died last night. That you had him to thank for why you were here in the first place.

Suddenly leaving didn’t sound like the better option anymore.

“You move a lot,” he grumbled. Your heart stopped in your chest for a brief moment.

“I–I’m sorry.” The words caught in your throat when he shifted, something pressing briefly to your lower back before he turned away. He grunted when he sat up, the sound shooting right through you. “We better get a move on.”

He still wanted you to go.

Sitting, you felt the fear begin to dissipate somewhat. “Oh…right,” you said, choosing to do what he did. Ignore that what you felt against your back was in fact what you thought.

The choice might prove better in the long run as you two traveled together. You’d been there before and in the end, it got messier than you wanted. Staying simple—alone but together—would be the easiest option. It would save you from dealing with another loss if something were to happen to him, and you hoped he felt the exact same way. Torment, heartache, they were all things you carried with you at the end of the day. A side effect of the fucking sickness that plagued the earth.

A disease that could never be reversed.

“Do you know how to get to Boston from here?” you asked, reaching for your bag.

“I’m sure we’ll figure it out,” he replied, stopping in front of you, a black piece of clothing in his hands. “Here.”

You must have looked confused, taking what you figured out to be a shirt. A man’s shirt if you looked close enough. “Where did you find this?”

“Went digging through the drawers in the other room.” He turned away, heading out the door before you could give him a real response.

Except you couldn’t find the right words to actually say to him. He was a man of few words. You could tell that right off the bat. Yet his actions seemed to speak volumes, telling you all the things you imagined he’d say. Or maybe…you were on the precipice of losing your mind due to constant stress and pressure. You remember watching movies about the apocalypse and insanity always played a part—the end usually resulting in death.

You figured believing the latter was far better than assuming something about a man you just met last night. While he said he wasn’t here to kill you, the uncertainty in your veins still stuck to the instinct that told you trust had to be earned.

Heading downstairs, you found him in the exact position you were in yesterday. Standing in the middle of the living room, staring at the portrait. He met your gaze when you entered, the shotgun back where it was yesterday, bag still in place.

“Ready?” he asked, watching you adjust your bag and fix your jacket in place. The black t-shirt now underneath it. You left the ruined one in the sink.

“Ready,” you confirmed, following him outside and into the sunlight.

You wondered if there would be others after you and him inside the house; if people were looking for a safe place to stay for the night. Would they see the painting and think of its origin like you had? Or would this just be another place. A hollow building with no life anymore—a corpse that stood against the destruction around it. You smiled bitterly at that thought, knowing that if you were a building…you would be that. A walking ghost amidst nature’s final painting.

Joel walked beside you, his stroll measured and assured. He knew where he was going with each step—unafraid of what he’d find in the distance. So, you fell into step with him, your eyes focused on the horizon as you both walked along the empty street. Leaving the house behind.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller #joel miller fic #the last of us #the last of us fic #my writing

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hdra77 · 8 months

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Ok since this blog is kinda getting alot of attention i'll just make a pinned post about a little bit of myself

---- interested in commissioning me? my art commission page can be found here! i accept payment through ko-fi or paypal! feel free to dm to inquire or if you have questions! :D

!! DISCLAIMER !!

Btw please read this before following my blog!! There would be gore,body horror,dark themes and even some suggestive themes Sometimes but overall i do not post any explicit nsfw here !! (they can be filtered through tags but just putting this here as a heads up)

tags are usually: #cw body horror, #tw body horror #cw gore, #tw gore, #cw suggestive, #tw suggestive

Heyy! i'm Soren!

He/Him

You can call me zarou or dra

I am bilingual but im more comfortable speaking in english (still bad at it actually)

i really like cybercore,webcore,warcore aesthetic it may not look like it right now but expect a whole bunch of techcore designs soon

Oh and i am also a huge fan of astronomy,space and all of that sort. Along with post apocalyptic settings,body horror elements and eldritch beings.

Using my art as PFPs/Banners is okay! As long as you give proper credit! But reuploading my works without my permission or claiming them as your own is NOT okay. I will find you and i will hunt you down and turn you into a helpless flopping fish gasping for air.

Inspirations is ok too!! But please do not directly copy from the original work.

Commissions: open

Art trades: friends/mutuals only

my DNI are basically the general DNI: proshippers,homophobes,etc. you know, the general

my interest varies but i currently hyperfixtate on these fandoms so far:

Rainworld

Nine Sols

Marikinonline4

Animator vs Animation/Animation vs Minecraft

Warrior cats

My dms here are also open so feel free to send me a message! (No weird dms or you get instant block)

Im busy and i dont check discord as frequently but i would be happy to talk to you! I would also be glad to make friends im not intimidating i promise i dont bite totally-

My ask box are always open! Ask me anything basically, my aus, ocs, pretty much anything. You can also send some requests but they will take a gajillion years to finish but i promise ill get them done soon!

My socials:

Twitter - HINDRANCE77 (!! page contains some suggestive themes !!)

Youtube - HINDRANCE77

Tumblr - hdra77 (you are literally here right now)

Ko-fi - HINDRANCE77

My tags:

#hdra7shitposts - yes, shitposts

#fishdoesart - all my art comes here

#fishdoesdoodles - random doodles and some occasional shitposting, mostly on ms paint

#fishdoesrequests - all my art requests comes here, so far this is where you find my ship requests (still open for now btw)

#wips - wips

#fishbites.txt - ramblings

#othersart - gifts/fanarts! Sometimes some reblogs

#asks - all of my responses comes here

My other blogs:

@nyaworld-askblog - for the nyaworld au! this blog is story driven but asks for specific characters are always welcome!

@fallowclans-unruly-demise - for a warrior cats clangen blog, still stuck in hiatus void

My Rainworld AU tags:

#rw voided au - simple AU about iterators called voideds who drains void fluids out of other iterators, theres also some rot infection going on too

#rw disarray au/SYSTEM FAILURE - a virus in Lttm's code had created a fatal error in her system which caused her to slowly spiral into insanity as she would slowly loosen her grip onto reality, claiming that she had found the solution to their problem..but was it really the answer all along?

#rw nyaworld au - joke au about the entire rainworld cast taking place in the 2000's this one is purely just for nostalgia purposes

#into the sigverse - technically considered an au. this is just a silly little askblog about different versions of NSH interacting because for some reason they can now magically interact with different alternate universe versions of themselves. ocs being used to interact is allowed to!! anyone can use this tag however they please you don't have to send me asks to be a part of the sigverse

My Rainworld Oc tags:

#Sector7c - official oc local group tag!

#7c dystopian arbitrary

#7c golden life

#rw ocs

#ocs

-- still WIP --

#i finally introduced myself #i should also change my page aesthetic soon #its been really outdated and i never planned on changing it LMAO #also have i mentioned im also really good with procrastinating

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jadewolf22 · 4 months

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Welcome to the Pack: Chapter 1

Summary: Zombie apocalypse AU with Gwendoline Christie’s characters x fem!reader x OC Character (Beth) Featuring: Phasma, Brienne, Larissa, Gwen (in Fabric), Lyme (Hunger Games), Jane, Jan, & Lady Jane (The Darkest Minds) with mentions of Miranda and Anna (Welcome to Marwen) based off of this post by @rippersz

TW: Apocalyptic world (?), OC is hit by vehicle, strong language, mentions of death/killing, mentions of PTSD/Trauma, implications of smut, implications of poly-amorous hierarchy/ poly-amorous relationships involving nine people, wolf pack-like environment (reader is referred to as “Alpha”), ext…

A/n: I apologize for the amount of Russian and French in here. I have Russian heritage and wanted to pay a little tribute to that here (ended up being a lot more than a little) and also just felt like it would be a nice little tribute to some of the people on here who aren’t native English speakers. I hope to use more languages in other fics for this same purpose. Reader is American but was taught fluent Russian by a close friend of hers.

Word Count: 8,073

No one truly knows where the virus came from. Some say the Chinese created it, others the Russians, still others claim that it wasn’t created at all but rather an effect of global warming or some kind of solar flare. All anyone could truly agree on was that it was dangerous and deadly. The Serix Virus, as scientists later called it, was a physically transmitted disease that transformed the infected into zombie-like creatures that were unable to feel pain with half-decayed, green skin and bloodshot, yellow eyes; you could shoot one and it wouldn’t go down until a bullet found its head.

Eurasia fell victim to it in the first month, with Africa and Australia not far behind. Three months later South America and Mexico followed. The survivors came flooding to North America, hoping for sanctuary, but none was received. Not even a month later the first cases were reported in North America and the rest of the world went to hell. People scrambled, turning on one another like gladiators in an arena. Fear took over and humanity crumbled, all in less than a year. Now, nearly three years later, the world remains black and dead. The “creatures” outnumber the human race twenty to one, if not more. They travel in packs just like most of the survivors-at least the survivors who were actually smart-shuffling through the remains of towns and cities, searching for their next meals of sweet human flesh; all too eager to taste blood in their mouths and skin in their teeth. To feast on people like Beth.

Beth was a small town woman of 29 from Luray, Virginia and the lone survivor of her hometown. Everyone, her friends, her family, were gone, having either been eaten or transfigured and she was, permanently, on the run. With no weapons other than a little glock with only one full mag left and almost no remaining food Beth knew her time was almost up. She was no survivalist; she had no impressive background or knew any kind of self defense other than her fairly good aim, which would do nothing to save her when her mag ran empty. With her hope fading as the days went by, Beth moved to camp beside a road, her last chance to find salvation-to get help.

She sat there on the side of the road for days, watching helplessly as the sun began to set at the end of her fourth day there and there was still no sign of help. Beth was about to give up and move on when something-a low rumble in the distance-caught her attention. She stood up and turned towards the sound, walking towards the curve in the road from where the noise was coming. It grew louder-the steady roar of a motor-and Beth’s heart leapt. She ran towards the curve, hoping to see the vehicle as it approached and catch the attention of its driver, but it was closer than she’d thought.

A large black blur came speeding around the corner, clipping Beth’s right side and sending her flying backwards across the road. Beth screamed as pain radiated through her. Her arm was on fire, her head throbbed, the world was spinning, and her legs ached. She didn’t dare move for fear that something had been broken.

Beth jumped a little when she heard car doors open and voices shouting at each other from inside the vehicle,

“-Are you out of your goddamn mind-?!”

“-Just leave her-!”

“-Not gonna leave her when it’s my fault! Now get your ass’s out there and help me!”

Footsteps came running towards Beth, two blurry figures kneeling beside her. She couldn’t see much but well enough to know that they were both pale, one with long black hair, the other with short blonde hair. Together they lifted her, Beth screaming in pain as her body protested the movement. They carried her up into the vehicle-a black mini bus, and laid her down across the seats, which had been turned to create two long benches along either side of the bus, leaving a wide space between them for boxes of supplies.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” a third person growled from the front of the bus as the other two took their seats, one person beside Beth and the other on the bench across from her.

Beth screamed as the bus jolted forward, grabbing hold of her arm as she began to slip in and out of consciousness from the pain.

“Gwen, you get to explain this to the Alpha when we get back,” the voice from the front of the bus growled. It was deep and cold, mildly monotone with a clipped English accent and a slightly rough edge to it. Beth couldn’t see its owner but could guess that whoever it was was not someone to fuck around with, “She’s made it clear that outsider’s aren’t welcome-”

“You know what, Phasma, foutre en l'air! I didn’t ask for your damn opinion!” another voice, this one softer, more melodic, almost haunty with a soft English edge to it, snapped, a low growl tearing from the throat of its owner, “I’m sure she’ll understand my reasoning-”

“Not fucking likely,” the deeper voice grumbled as the vehicle shook and swayed, causing Beth to whimper every other minute, “Last time one of us brought someone back, Alpha turned him into crawler food real quick.”

Crawler? Beth had heard the creatures called many things; flesh-eaters, zombies, the undead, but never Crawlers. The term was fitting, though. They did move at a crawling pace until they smelled food.

“Last time we brought someone back, it was a man,” the softer voice countered, sounding annoyed, “Alpha made it clear no men were permitted in the camp, she’s had no problem bringing in women. What about Miran-?”

“Enough Gwen, you made your point.” a third voice cut in, a commanding edge to their tone. This voice was quiet, crisp, and rather gritty. There were hints of an accent to it, but Beth could not place where exactly it was from- somewhere in Europe, if she had to guess, based on its resemblance to the other two, “This is not our mess to deal with. When we get home we’ll hand her over to Jane and Gwen will explain what happened to Alpha. If she’s lucky, the Alpha will let her stay.”

The other two grumbled in agreement, silence taking over the vehicle, allowing Beth to fully succumb to the hold of sleep. When she faded back to a semi consciousness, Beth was no longer in the bus but instead lying on some kind of cot, listening to a rather heated discussion between a large group of people,

“-Why would you bring her here?! We barely have enough food to go around as it is-!”

“Don’t try to pull one of those again. We all know there’s enough food here to last us years-!”

“That’s a rough estimate-!”

“It doesn’t matter if we have enough food or not! They’re injured, which makes them nothing but a hindrance to us! We should have left them where we found them-!”

“Not everyone here is as much of a hardass as you are, Phasma!! Forgive us for trying to have a little empathy-”

“Empathy isn’t going to help us survive!”

“Alright, доста́точно!!” Silence fell immediately. Beth didn’t know what the word ‘dostátočno’ meant, but it was clear that the others did, “That’s enough, all of you… While I appreciate the input, the decision is mine to make. Gwen… I want you to stay with her until she wakes up. When she does have Jane give her a quick lookover then bring her to me. We can figure out what to do from there… Everyone else просто позвольте этому быть. It’s not the end of the world-”

“No. That’s already happened…”

“Phasma, I don’t wanna hear another word out of you, Вы меня понимаете??!”

“... Yes, Alpha…”

“Thank you. Now, все возвращаются на работу…Phasma, Bri, I want that hole in the wall patched up by sundown.”

“We’re doing what we can, but there’s not enough materials to fortify it completely.”

“Then we’ll make another run, tomorrow. We cannot stand to let that wall have gaps in it. It’s too dangerous to-”

The rest of whatever the person had been saying faded away as Beth slipped back under sleep’s sweet spell. The second time she woke, Beth was fully conscious, opening her eyes for the first time in what felt like days. She was in some kind of large, stone room with high, intricately designed ceilings lying on what seemed to be an old-timey hospital bed. Her right arm was in a sling, both of her legs were wrapped in compression bandages from the knees down, and there was a thick gauze wrapping around her hairline. Every part of Beth’s body felt stiff, her broken arm felt full of pins and needles, and her head throbbed in time with her heartbeat.

“It’s about time you woke up, petite souris,” came a voice to Beth’s left, causing her to jump.

Beth looked over to see who the voice belonged to, and found her breath taken by the beauty across from her. The woman was tall and incredibly pale, possessing a slender yet shapely figure, with graceful curves and a lustrous cascade of dyed black waves that fell in loose tendrils around her shoulders, framing her face like a dark halo. Her hair had a glossy sheen that caught the light streaming from the nearby windows, imbuing her with an almost supernatural radiance and her lips were full and painted with a deep, velvety shade of red. Steel blue eyes watched Beth closely, framed by thick lines of black eyeliner. She wore a fitted shirt with a black and white checkered pattern and with sheer, flared sleeves as well as black leather pants, a black choker and black, knee-high combat boots. There were two Ruger LCP’s holstered in a belt at her hips and an N4 short barreled rifle resting in her lap, her finger lying lazily over the trigger.

“Where am I?” Beth asked, wincing as she fought her way up to a sitting position.

“Home, for now, petite souris.” The woman purred in French and Beth recognized her soft, melodic, almost haunty voice with its soft English edge. She was one of the women from the bus, “Unless the Alpha decides otherwise.”

“The Alpha?” Beth repeated, her brows furrowing in confusion. What kind of fucked up cult had she gotten herself into? “Who the fuck is The Alpha?”

“She’s our leader,” the woman explained, her voice hardening slightly at Beth’s confused, almost humored tone, “Our chef de file. The one who keeps us safe from those things crawling around outside… If you’re going to stay with us, you will need to learn to respect her, petite souris. Or she’ll throw you to the crawlers without a second glance.”

“Right… How long have I been here?”

“About a day-”

“Gwen, you were supposed to come and get me when she woke!”

Beth and the woman-Gwen, jumped in surprise, turning to see another woman walking their way. This woman was about the same height as Gwen, Beth assumed, if not half an inch or so taller, with soft alabaster skin, and a mane of natural raven hair pinned up into some sort of plaited crown around her head. She had a wiry, haunting figure with a regal bearing about her and a rigid posture, conveying an air of authority and severity. Her angular jawline and high cheekbones contributed to that sense of severity, while her piercing sky blue eyes seemed to scrutinize everything with an unwavering gaze. The woman’s face was free of makeup, but by far no less beautiful than Gwen’s, with a small scar adorning her upper lip; something she must have sustained before the virus. She was dressed in a black linen dress that brushed against her mid-thigh with tight sleeves, accessorized with a black and silver corset as well as black leggings and black knee-high boots. Fitting for a post-apocalyptic world yet still fashionable.

“Ouais, peu importe, salope.” Gwen muttered under her breath, giving the second woman a dark look, “She just woke up, Jane. Give me a little slack.”

“Alpha’s orders.” was all the other woman “Jane” responded, her voice cold with a cutting edge to it and a heavy English accent, turning her attention to Beth, “Consider yourself one lucky woman. It’s a rare thing for someone to be hit by a bus and walk away with only a broken arm, a minor laceration, and a few bruises.”

“Tell that to my aching joints.” Beth grumbled.

“Would you rather I say it to your corpse?” Jane asked, her tone anything but sarcastic. Clearly she was a ‘no-nonsense’ type of woman, “Up! I need to see you move.”

Groaning internally, Beth swung her legs off the cot and planted her feet firmly on the cold floor, hissing as her joints protested against her movements. She could feel both pairs of eyes on her, sweat gathering at the base of her neck as Beth pushed off the bed with her good arm, standing on wobbly legs. Jane had her walking back and forth along the edge of the bed for several minutes before having Beth try a few stretches that would, hopefully, help to relax the muscles in her legs.

“That’s as good as you’re going to get for now,” Jane said after a time, rewrapping Beth’s legs after inspecting the swelling, “I’m sure the Alpha’s getting impatient. She’s up on the balcony taking a smoke.” she addressed to Gwen, an indifferent look in her light, sharp eyes.

“Think you can handle stairs, petite souris?” Gwen asked, directing her attention at Beth and ignoring Jane as the imposing figure walked away.

“Do I have much of a choice?” Beth returned. Gwen shrugged, turning on her heel and heading out after Jane with Beth hobbling along behind her.

Beth couldn’t help but look around in awe as she followed Gwen. They were in some kind of gothic mansion, with tall stone walls and ceilings decorated with intricate patterns, statues and paintings, as well as mahogany accents in the doors and stairway railings. Clearly, this place had been some kind of retreat or something for those who basked in wealth. Everything was well constructed and detailed, too nice for something people of a lower class would have had the privilege of seeing.

With a little help from Gwen, Beth managed to make it up to the second floor of the building, hoping and praying that “the Alpha” was not on any of the upper floors. There was no way her legs were going to be able to make it up another flight. Relief filled Beth when Gwen began to lead her down a long hallway, away from the stairs. They passed many rooms, most of which were empty, but as they walked past one of the rooms on the far end of the hall, Beth caught a glimpse of a woman standing over a table inside but didn’t have time for a proper look before Gwen drew her attention away.

“She’ll be in here.” Gwen said, placing her hand on the doorknob of a large mahogany door at the very end of the hall. There was a golden plaque nailed to it which read “Principal Weems”. Apparently, this place had been some kind of school, “Whatever you do, petite souris, don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. And, if you want to have any chance of staying or staying alive, be respectful. If there’s one thing Alpha can’t stand, it’s someone who can’t respect their superiors, comprendre?”

Beth nodded, able to loosely translate the french word. The corner of Gwen’s lips twitched upward in a light smirk before her face went void of expression and she opened the door, beaconing Beth to follow her inside. The room was massive, with well used leather furniture and a large mahogany desk in front of a set of open french doors which led out to a spacious balcony. There was a large marble fireplace to the left of the doorway, carved to look like… medusa? At first the room smelled faintly of wine and must, and then a gentle breeze blew the scent of cigar smoke in through the open balcony doors, drawing Beth’s attention to the figure leaning against the stone railing of the balcony, facing in towards the room; You.

Beth didn’t know what she’d expected from someone who called themselves “the Alpha” but whatever it was was not what you were. When she and Gwen reached you and you rose to your full height you towerd over both of them like a fucking skyscraper with a broad, maculine body complete with soft ivory skin, thick meaty hands, prominent veins, and muscles that might as well have been chisled from stone. Short red hair cut in a 90’s bob framed a sharply defined, oval face allowing your deep green eyes with their frightful and unnerving gaze to stand to attention. You wore a loose-fitting bronze t-shirt tucked into black jeans decorated with custom-sewn pockets all down the legs with a brown and black flannel tied around your waist, a gold watch on your wrist glinted off the dying sunlight, and black, knee-high combat boots similar to Gwen’s adorned your feet; though yours had to be at least three sizes bigger. There were two Glock 19’s in a holster around your waist, a semi-auto .22LR slung across your back, and a knife as long as Beth’s forearm in a vertical sheath across the back of your holster; the many pockets of your jeans bulging with mags for the three guns.

“Give us a moment, would you малыш,” you addressed to Gwen, taking a long drag from the joint between your fingers, continuing to speak as you released the smoke from your lips, your voice silky yet harsh with a tough, demanding and authoritative tone that matched the rest of your persona perfectly, “Why don’t you go see if you can help Jan with the mending? I’m sure she could use a second pair of hands. If not, tell Jane I told you to help her with supper.”

Gwen gave a small nod, turning and walking away without so much as a glance in Beth’s direction. Beth had caught the Russian word for ‘baby’ and realized that it was you who had been speaking the language earlier despite having a flawless American accent whenever you weren’t using Russian dialect.

“So, маленькая полевая мышь, I hear one of my girls hit you with the bus?” you spoke softly, eyeing Beth like someone would a confused child, “Tell me… why should I let you stay, hmm? What can you offer us?”

“I…” Beth paused, unsure how best to respond. She didn’t know what words would save her life and what words would end it, “I-I’m a fair shooter. I can hit a perfect bullseye four of five times-”

You chuckled, drawing her up short, “маленькая полевая мышь, I have four women who can hit a bullseye five times out of five shots. What need would I have of your skill when I already have others who are better at it?”

“I’m a forager.” she tried again, “I know what plants around here are safest to eat, which ones can be used as medicine, and which ones can end a life-”

Again, you cut her off, “And I have a woman who has a master’s degree in medicine and herbology.”

Damn it.

“I…” Beth was defeated. Shooting and foraging were her only helpful skills and you were right. What need would you have of her if there were already those who could do it better? “Those are the only things I can offer you…”

“Poor маленькая полевая мышь,” you purred with a small smile on your lips. You seemed to be enjoying watching Beth as she began to panic, “If you have nothing to offer me, why should I let you stay, hmm?”

“Please?!” she begged, ready to fall on her knees and plead at your feet, “I-I don’t need to stay forever. Just long enough to heal-Please-!”

“There is no need to beg, полевая мышь.” a low chuckle escaped your throat, sending a shiver down the back of Beth’s neck, “You are lucky Gwen seems to have taken a liking to you. If not for her, I would feed you to the crawlers… You may stay with us until you heal but, while you are here, you will conform to my rules. Break or refuse to follow one and I will cast you out with only the clothes on your back. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes… ma’am…” Beth mumbled, looking down at your feet.

“Good,” you purred again, your lips pulled up in a tight, almost fake smile, “Why don’t you come inside and take a seat while I go over the rules with you, hmm? I’m sure your legs must be killing you for standing for so long. When we’re done, I’ll give you a proper tour and introduce you to everyone.”

Beth nodded, her body visibly relaxing in relief as she followed you back inside. You sat down in the chair behind the desk, motioning for Beth to take one of the leather seats across from you.

“So,” you started as Beth sat down, looking down at her hands resting in her lap, “let’s get to it…?”

“Beth,” she answered when she realized you were silently asking for her name.

“Beth. Welcome to our little pack. I am y/n, but you will refer to me as Alpha. Calling me by my name is a privilege that must be earned. Is that understood?” “Yes.”

“Good. Now, in order to keep everyone safe and keep our pack from falling apart, I have set a few rules in place. Failure to conform to these rules will result in your immediate removal from the pack. Get caught breaking a rule and you will be punished accordingly.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Beth muttered, her eyes still trained on her hands.

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, милый,” you reprimanded, smirking when Beth’s gaze shot up to your face, “Good. Now, our rules. One; you will obey every command I give you without question or complaint. As the alpha, it is my job to ensure that the pack remains safe. You must trust that my actions and commands are made with this in mind. Two; you must return to camp by nightfall every night and are not permitted to leave again until sunrise. Crawlers are most active at night, that is when we need to be the least active. Three; never leave the camp alone. Always in groups of three or more. Four; if you are injured, whether by a crawler or something else, you must tell someone. You cannot expect us to treat you as if you are injured if we do not know that you are. Am I clear so far?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“хорошая девочка. Rule five; in order to ensure that we have enough water for drinking and cooking, each of us are only permitted to use the showers three times a week unless given verbal permission from me. Six; everyone must use the gym at least two times a week. We need to keep our strength up. Once you heal enough I will have you working with one of my girls to build your muscles back up. Seven; never keep helpful supplies hidden for yourself. We share everything of great value with the pack. Less important things like jewelry and perfumes and such are fine. We have no severe need for them.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Beth repeated again, showing that she was still listening.

“Number eight; don’t bring men into the camp. They cannot be trusted, nor will I pretend to tolerate them. Nine; do not ever turn off the safety feature on your weapon. It must always be ready should another group attempt to raid us or a horde of crawlers find its way through our defenses. This also means that you must be extremely careful. No one has accidentally shot someone yet, but we have had one too many close calls in recent months. And finally, ten-this rule will not apply to you without my explicit permission which you are highly unlikely to receive; do not touch another one of the girls in an intimate sense without verbal permission from both the woman and myself. As the alpha, it is my job to attend to the needs of my pack, whether that be physical, mental, sexual, or otherwise. The others know they are not to touch themselves or each other without my permission and the same goes for you.”

A mildly disgusted look overtook Beth’s face as the realization of your words sunk in. You were fucking all of them?!

“Don’t worry, полевая мышь,” you laughed, the sound harsh and rich, “I have no intentions of mating with you. You are not a permanent part of the pack, not like my girls.”

“Is that how you became the alpha?” Beth asked before she could stop herself, “By fucking the rest of them into submission?”

A dark shadow filled your eye as a bemused look crossed your face. You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the desk as you eyed Beth, running your tongue against the inside of your bottom lip.

“I’ll give you one pass since you are new, but if you ever speak to me like that again I will gut you. Do you understand, полевая мышь?” you hissed, your smile widening when Beth nodded, “Yes, мышь, that is how I became the alpha. Before me, it was the principal of this school. Fuck the right people in the right ways and they’ll give up everything to you… But don’t let that fool you into thinking I only fuck them to keep my position, oh no, I fuck them because I truely love them, and will do whatever I can to make them forget about what goes on outside these walls, even if it’s just for a night.”

Beth nodded again, her mind still reeling as it tried to process everything you had just told her.

“So, now that you know our rules and how our pack operates, would you like to stay? If not, we’ll give you back your things and send you on our way.”

She didn’t know what to say. Beth knew leaving now would inevitably result in her death, yet she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to stay here. You were incredibly fucked up in the head, that was for certain. However, you did genuinely seem to mean what you said about protecting your ‘pack’. As much as Beth didn’t like either option, she ultimately decided that a month or so with you was better than being eaten alive by crawlers in a night.

“I’ll stay.” she muttered, “And I’ll do whatever I can to be of help while I’m here.”

“Good,” you cooed, clasping your hands together with another tight smile as you rose to your feet, “Come, let’s get you familiar with the camp and properly introduced to everyone, shall we?”

Beth nodded, pushing off of the chair, her legs shaking as she stood. You waited a moment, giving her legs a moment to adjust to carrying her weight again before you strode out of the room, walking slowly so that Beth could keep pace.

“This is our command center,” you said, leading her inside one of the rooms she’d passed earlier, “In here we keep our main radio as well as our maps, supply lists, and other things of that sort. And this is Larissa.”

The woman-Larissa looked up from the map she’d been studying and offered Beth a soft smile that had her weak in the knees. Like the others Beth had met, Larissa was tall. Taller than Gwen but not by much, with silvery-blonde hair done up in a complex updo half hidden in a silver headscarf, a shapely, feminine figure dressed in white pants and a silver blouse accentuated with a thick brown belt and brown ankle boots, skin like a porcelain dolls, and long-fingered hands tucked into white gloves. Her eyes were a brilliant, sapphire blue framed by thick mascara-coated lashes and her lips were soft-looking and full, stained a deep ruby red in color.

She was prestigious and well put together, seeming almost out of place in the modern world. Too gentle, too clean, too pure. But something was off. There was a weary look on her heart-shaped face as she eyed Beth, as well as a sense of falseness to her smile. To Beth, it seemed as if the woman was afraid, But afraid of what? You? Beth?

“Larissa, сладкий голубь, this is Beth,” you announced, smiling gently at Larissa, a comforting gleam in your eye, “She’ll be staying with us for a while.”

“You’re letting her stay?” Larissa questioned, her voice velvety and melodic, yet there was something enigmatic about it…

“Only because I don’t want to hear Gwen’s pouting for months.” you teased, momentarily drawing a true smile from the woman before it turned false again.

“I suppose that’s as good a reason as any,” the blonde concured, eyeing Beth again before returning her focus to the map on the table as you strode back out of the room, beaconing Beth to follow.

“You’ll have to excuse her demeanor. Larissa is not one to trust easily.” you said to Beth as the two of you descended down the stairs, “It will take her some time to warm up to you.”

Beth nodded, half-listening as you went on to tell her about what the school had been before the virus, following you into what at one point had been the school’s cafeteria. All of the tables but one were gone, leaving space for eight beds set in a circle in the middle of the room. There were hospital curtains on the sides and in front of each of the beds, allowing for some separation and privacy, though not very much. Also beside each bed was a small stand, on top of which lay an array of objects; hair brushes and hair ties, makeup products, jewelry, photographs, knives, gun magazines, notebooks, books, ect. Then at the foot of each bed was some kind of trunk Beth assumed was for storing larger possessions and clothing.

There was a large, clearly handmade, circular stone fireplace in the center of the circle of beds, surrounded by an array of well-used, mismatched chairs. Very homey, Beth thought, a sudden wave of homesickness overtaking her. It had been so long since she’d seen anything that even remotely resembled a normal home.

“This is our sleeping quarters and-for want of a better word-dining hall. We eat and sleep here as well as simply lounge around after curfew. I’ll have the twins help me bring down a cot for you later… My room is just past that door.” you pointed to a mahogany door on the far wall, not too far from the circle of beds but far enough to make it very clear you were separate from the others, “Should you need anything during the night or notice something off while you’re on watch, just knock. I’m a light sleeper.”

Beth nodded again. She wanted to make a comment about you sleeping separate from everyone else but that unnerving glint in your eye kept her at bay. You moved on, showing her the infirmary, makeshift gym, bathrooms and showers.

“How do you have running water?” She inquired as the two of you made your way outside. Without humans to run things, places like power plants, dams and such had ceased working. Very few places still had electricity and water, none of which were anywhere near your camp.

“We were able to create our own water system by connecting the plumbing to a river a ways up the mountain. By connecting it to a filtering system, we were able to obtain clean water for drinking and cooking.” you explained, “In order to do that we had to first shut off and drain the preexisting system, remove and close off several pipes from the upper floors, making it so that the plumbing would only run through the ground floor-not that we needed it for much else.”

“And the electricity?”

“Solar power. We raided a solar power plant not far from here about a year and a half ago and figured out how to use the panels we’d taken to power everything here, including the bus one of my girls hit you with.” you said, stepping outside.

The area you’d taken her to was a courtyard at what appeared to be the center of the mansion. Most of it was made of the same stone as the inside, the other part of a thick wrought iron fence, both of which were decorated with beautiful scrollwork designs. Intricate arches lead off to other parts of the school, while thin cobblestone paths weaved through the grass, which was luscious and oh so green compared to the rest of the world. Several tarps had been stitched together and hung over the entire courtyard, protecting it from the rain and sun. Stone benches lined the courtyard’s edge, there were several tables littered with supplies off to one side, as well as a makeshift shooting range, and a large sparring mat staked to the ground with tent spikes, where two more women were currently occupied.

The women on the mat were both broad and muscular, though the one facing away from the two of you had a much more haunty feel to her figure. Her short, snowy-white hair was slick with sweat and brushed against the nape of her neck.

“Phasma, lower your hands!” you shouted, causing Beth to jump, “You’re leaving your ribs exposed! Brienne, widen your stance! If she pushes you, you’re done for!”

The two paused, unfolding from their fighting stances and turning to you, Beth unable to keep her jaw from dropping when she caught sight of-who she assumed was Phasma-'s face. The woman was tall, standing about two inches shorter than you, and had a square face and prominent jaw with a clearly broken nose. A single icy blue eye glared at Beth coldly, the left side of her face marred by a burn scar accentuated with a pearly white eye; clearly the injury had left her blind. Intimidated by her gaze, Beth dropped her eyes to the rest of Phasma’s body. A ripped gray shirt clung to her broad chest and shoulders like a second skin, green cargo pants covered her legs, showing off the muscles there when she flexed them just right. When she shifted her stance a light clinking filled the air, drawing Beth’s attention to the chain of military tags around her neck.

“Come on ladies, you would think I wouldn’t need to tell you these sorts of things with your track records.” you scolded lightly as they approached you.

“Sorry, Alpha,” they muttered in unison, giving Beth a chance to look at the other one while their attention was trained on you.

The other woman was just as tall as Phasma, with the same square face and chiseled jaw, though her hair reached her shoulders and was the color of straw rather than snow. She had the same small, blue, almond-shaped eyes but hers were darker, more like the ocean, as well as the same porcelain skin. There was a large scar on her cheek; it looked rather like a human-made bite mark. It must have been something she sustained before the virus or she would not have been amongst the “living” now. The woman wore a dark blue tank top that showed off her pale, freckled shoulders tucked into brown cargo pants belted with a thick black belt around her broad hips. Both women were barefoot with linen strips wrapped around their hands, raw pink flesh peeking from beneath the strips.

“You’ve already met Phasma… in a sense,” you said to Beth, drawing her from her thoughts as you pointed to the one-eyed woman-Phasma, “This is her twin sister, Brienne. Ladies, this is Beth. She’s going to be staying with us for a while.”

It was easy to note the similarities between the two sisters. As well as being similar in appearance the two women had the same posture and ora, and the exact same look on their faces as they eyed Beth like she was merely a piece of meat.

“You’re letting the rat stay?” Phasma practically growled, her voice deep and cold, mildly monotone with a clipped English accent and a slightly rough edge-the bus driver! Realizing Phasma was the one who’d hit her with the bus, Beth narrowed her eyes at the woman, shifting her stance ever so slightly in an attempt to appear stronger and more confident, though the bandages and sling did little to assist her, “Why?”

“Because, Phasma, I don’t think you want to hear Gwen whining for the next few months because we didn’t help her little field mouse any more than I do.” you answered, your voice firm and assertive, causing the frightful-looking blonde to go silent.

“Alpha,” the other sister-Brienne, stepped forward slightly. Her voice was gravelly and had a natural stentorian and authoritative feel to it, but when she spoke to you it was in the most submissive and respectful way, “our resources are spread thin as it is. Taking on another member… it is not something we can afford…”

“I understand your concerns, Brienne. Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind, but we will make it work.” you assured, “You both know I would never do anything without fully thinking it through-”

“If you had, the runt’s corpse would be halfway up the mountain by now.” Phasma muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, her sister going white beside her as you flushed scarlet.

“Phasma, то есть достаточно!” you roared, raising your hand as if to strike her before lowering it again with a deep breath, “As of now, Beth is a part of our pack. You will treat her with the same respect as the others… And if you ever speak to me like that again, you will be sleeping outside the walls. Is that understood?” The woman merely shrugged, cracking her knuckles as she shifted her gaze to Beth, the one blue eye narrowed dangerously. You sighed, clearly annoyed with the woman’s behavior.

“Finish your match,” you told them, “Once you’re done go ahead and begin evening procedures. I suspect Jane will have supper ready here soon.”

Phasma shrugged again, her gaze never leaving Beth, causing sweat to form at the base of her neck. Brienne put a hand on her sister’s shoulder, whispering something in her ear that caused Phasma to scoff, roughly shoving her sister away and turning and walking back onto the mat. Brienne shot you an apologetic look, nodding at you before following after her twin, ignoring Beth entirely.

“Ignore them,” you said to Beth, turning away from the sisters, “The twins have always been wound rather tightly, especially Phasma. Give them their space and they’ll give you yours. Just, whatever you do, try not to piss them off… If you couldn’t tell, they’re not afraid to break a couple of bones.”

“What happened to them?” you looked down at her, your head slightly tilted in question, “The scars…?”

“Those are stories for another time,” you said dismissively, moving towards the cluster of picnic tables where two figures were conversing on one of the benches along the edge of the yard, “Lyme, познакомься с нашим гостем!” you called as you and Beth approached the two.

The woman you’d addressed-Lyme stood up from her spot on one of the stone benches as you and Beth approached, Beth unable to keep from ogling at the goddess before her. The woman towerd over Beth, standing just shorter than the twins with a muscular and powerful, yet curvy build that suggested years of some kind of combative experience and flawless, ivory skin. Her face was strong and angular, free of makeup with chiseled features that conveyed determination and resilience, and eyes like pools of silver that had Beth struggling to breathe. Her dirty blonde hair was cut in a short, stylish pixie cut that kept it out of her face at all times. There was an air of confidence and authority to her, exuding a sense of quiet power and strength. She was dressed in a dingy white tank top that hugged every curve, dark acid wash jeans, a bloodstained jean jacket, a long silver chain hanging around her neck, and gray boots. There was a large AK-47 slung across her back and two knives sheathed at her hips.

The woman beside Lyme was a few inches shorter than her companion with that same authoritative presence and long, silky brown hair tied back in a low ponytail. She had flawless, sun-kissed skin, a strong, lean and almost cat-like figure and a soft round face void of makeup and splattered with the lightest freckles Beth had ever seen, accentuated with small, dusty blue eyes. There were several small tattoos on her fingers and more poking out from beneath the sleeves of her brown shirt which she’d paired with military-style pants and brown boots, accessorized with a western-style leather holster that housed a silver Glock 17. Her jaw was clenched tightly, and her eyes were narrowed as she eyed Beth up and down, stopping both ways when her eyes reached the sling around Beth’s arm, seeming to size her up. Clearly, she was as keen on having an injured stranger in their midst as Phasma and Brienne were.

“Beth, this is Lyme and Lady-” you introduced, gesturing to each woman as you said their name.

“Lady?” Beth asked, releasing a breathy laugh at the odd name which she instantly regretted when the brunette gave her a dangerous look that would have had Beth six feet under if looks were able to kill.

“Her real name is Jane, but we call her Lady to keep from confusing her with our other Jane.” you explained, stepping slightly in front of Beth as Lady’s hand twitched towards her Glock, “Lady, оставь пистолет в покое.”

The brunette grumbled, folding her arms across her chest as you gently steered Beth away from the two women.

“I’d watch your back around her,” you warned, “She’s the wild card around here. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries to use you as target practice... At least for the first week or so.”

“Don’t think she’s the only one.” Beth mumbled, eyeing the twins sparring on the mat with a worried glint in her eye.

“Phasma and Brienne may want to put a bullet in your head, but they’d do it with good intentions-at least, Brienne would… You must understand, we haven’t had a new member in over a year and, well... it didn’t end well.”

“What happened?”

“...She died...” you answered, your voice soft, “We were all close with her, and her death shook us quite a bit. In truth, I think the others don’t want you here because they’re afraid of having that attachment again.”

You went silent for a few moments after that, leading Beth away. She longed to press, to learn what had happened, but it was clearly a touchy subject and she dreaded what would happen if she pushed too far. If she was being entirely honest with herself, Beth was afraid of you. Everything she’d heard, everything she’d seen gave her the impression that, though some of the others in your ‘pack’ were scary, you were the only one who she needed to be terrified of. Your authoritative demeanor, your commanding presence, the unnerving glint in your eye, the harsh edge to your voice all pointed to one simple fact; you were dangerous. In what way exactly, Beth did not know, but she was in no hurry to find out.

You lead her back inside to a new area of the first floor and into a room piled high with boxes of supplies and racks of clothing categorized by the item and sizes. She followed you through the maze of racks to the back of the room to where a figure was sitting, pointing as you spoke.

“Jan is who you will go to tomorrow to get fitted for proper clothing. Not only does she have the best sense of fashion, but whatever we don’t have, she can make. She’s quite handy with a needle and some thread.”

The woman you pointed to was like an angel in mortal form with a lean, angular body and pure white skin. A halo of platinum blonde hair fell to the base of her neck in waves framing a sharp, heart-shaped face with blood-red lips and dark eyeshadow with thick black eyeliner that accentuated cerulean blue eyes. Her black, five-inch platform boots seemed a little out of place given the world’s current predicament, but looked quite good with the flared red pants and ruffled white blouse. There was a box of clothing at her feet and a pincushion and several spools of thread on the desk beside her while she methodically stitched away at a shirt laying in her lap.

“Jan, мой павлин,” you practically cooed, drawing the angel’s attention away from her work, “Why don’t you put the mending away for a while and come meet our guest?”

Jan nodded, gently placing her work on the desk as she stood, her eyes flicking over Beth. Unlike the others, her gaze wasn’t disapproving or judgmental, but rather curious and intrigued. She walked closer, flicking her eyes between you and Beth as she drew near. Even with those boots on she was still an inch or so shorter than you, and as she came to a stop in front of Beth a sweet mixture of warm vanilla and cherry scents filled Beth’s nose.

“I’m Beth.” she offered, holding out her hand to the beauty standing before her, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Jan murmured, taking Beth’s hand in a dainty handshake. Her voice was like a breath of wind, angelic, crisp, and oh so silky. It would have been all too easy for Beth to get lost in its sweet spell. The woman’s skin was like satin against Beth’s coarse hands, deep ruby nails standing out against the pale flesh.

Beth went to say something, what exactly she was not sure, but the loud, deep ring of a bell cut her off. She released Jan’s hand, looking to you for an explanation as to what the bell was for.

“That’ll be the dinner bell,” you said to Beth, though your eyes were trained on Jan. To Beth, it seemed that you favored the platinum angel over the rest of your packmates, “Best we head to the dinning hall before Jane or Larissa have our heads for being late.”

Jan nodded, turning off the lamp beside the desk she’d been using before taking hold of your arm as you led her and Beth back out of the room. The three of you joined the others in the dining hall where you did a quick check to make sure everyone was accounted for, scowling when you noticed one member was missing.

“Where’s Phasma?” you half growled to Brienne, your eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“She went to put the bus away,” Brienne shrugged, “Best bet is she’s still in the garage.”

You sighed, rubbing your temple before muttering, “You lot go ahead and get started. I’ll run out and grab her.”

You left without another word, leaving Beth alone with the remaining seven members of your pack. She stood back, staying out of the way while the others lined up to get food much like you would in a school cafetorium-which they were currently in-unable to keep her eyes from glancing over the strong, shapely figures standing about ten feet from her. As much as she wished to deny it, Beth could see why you would find it hard to choose only one of the women here; she was caught in the claws of these beauties… and no force on Earth would save her if she woke the beast…

A/n: This is the first fanfic I've written that was over 1,000 words so I apologize if it drags a little at times. Pt.2 should be released in a few weeks. Hope you enjoyed!! :)

#gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #larissa weems #jane murdstone #commander lyme #miranda hilmarson #captain phasma #jan stevens #gwen in fabric #lady jane

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allmightskitten · 2 months

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From the abandoned WIP graveyard:

One Piece Zombie Apocalypse AU : the Donquixote Brothers' Segment

Rating: M

Tags: Donquixote Brothers being Weird, post-apocalyptic setting, no Devil Fruits

Possible TWs: depictions of hunting wild animals, some gore, talk of body image

☆

An uninfected rabbit was a rare prize.

Doflamingo had the unfortunate animal in a fresh empty garbage bag as he made his way through the wreckage of the city, boldly walking in the middle of the road framed by rubble, rodents and corpses. As long as his catch was sealed away safely from this air in general– one couldn't be too careful– he feared nothing, not even the possibility of running into a zombie or two in his exhausted state.

During the day the infected would move sluggishly, dangerous creatures with no predatory skill, and he found them easy enough to kill so long as they didn't turn up in droves. They rarely bunched all together when the sun was high in the sky, as it had been when he'd set out, leaving his dear Rosi behind to find them something to eat. But with night time approaching now, he had to be a little careful.

Sometimes Doflamingo wondered what Rosinante would do if he turned. His baby brother couldn't survive in a place like this on his own. The thought made him giddy, gave him a derisive satisfaction that was rotten at its core, and for that reason he enjoyed the hunt.

He thought of Rosi safely tucked away back in their hideout waiting for him, depending on him and worrying for him, whenever he left to look for food or just to clean up the streets of roaming zombies just for fun. Doflamingo would not let Rosi turn, would never allow him in a situation where that could happen, but if his precious brother– his only surviving family, his beating heart– were to turn into one of those disgusting creatures with peeling green skin and rotting flesh, he thought he might offer himself up as first meal. Dead, of course, by his own hand. He would rather be nourishment for his dear brother than turn into a mindless corpse.

He didn't encounter any trouble on the road back.

The shelter was an abandoned complex of flats, one of few sites within the city still with access to running water. Six months into this situation with no hope of rescue from the outside world made him believe that stroke of luck wouldn't last much longer.

With the reward for his efforts slung over his shoulder in a bag, Doflamingo hummed as he unlocked the paranoid barrage of padlocks and chains keeping the door to their apartment more secure than it strictly needed to be.

Nothing but the best security for his Rosi. The door was only locked like that when Doffy wasn't home to protect him. He deposited the bag in the kitchen, happy to eventually deliver the news that his precious brother was going to be well-fed tonight.

"Corazón, I'm home!"

There was no response from their bedroom, but the door was closed in place and the apartment showed no signs of anything amiss, so he wasn't worried. Rosi probably hadn't heard him or was alseep– Doflamingo grinned, a quiet thrill rattling his bones at the prospect of joining Rosi in bed, sliding under the covers next to him as if he had never left that morning.

He got out of his day clothes on the way to the room, because it was filthy to sleep in bloodied clothes worn out for the hunt or that the infected had touched, grabbing a pair of sweatpants that could've belonged to either of them off the couch to put on before he carefully creaked the door open.

The room was dull with its curtains shut, through which the last few dying rays of the sun filtered into the room. The evening light spilled across the floor and the sheets, and the sleeping figure facing the window.

Doflamingo paused in the doorway.

Rosinante was snoring softly, his bare, scarred shoulders rising and falling with each inhale and exhale of breath. His messy blonde hair was splayed on the pillow, grown past his ears now with a fringe that obstructed his vision, almost golden in the filtered light. He looked about as angelic as any person could.

Doffy closed the door behind him, taking care not to make too much noise. When the mattress dipped under his weight and the covers shifted, Rosinante stirred but didn't wake up.

Doflamingo buried his face between his brother's shoulders, possessively tucking an arm around his belly. For a moment he just basked in the fact that Rosi was here– alive and safe, breathing next to him.

But it was warm in the room and under the covers, and with Doflamingo plastered across the entire length of his back, Rosi couldn't comfortably remain sleeping. He woke up slowly, the back of his neck damp with sweat, almost immediately kicking the sheets off of his body to cool down. Doffy loosened his hold so Rosi could turn around blearily, blinking sleep-heavy eyes as he adjusted to the light.

"Hey," Doffy greeted him in a soft voice.

Rosinante blinked a few more times at him, like he was just regaining his bearings, before pushing at his chest with a palm to create some breathing room.

"I'm hot. You're not helping."

"You'll be cold again in no time." With the blankets now off and the winter air. "Rosi, I got us something good."

Despite his annoyance at being warm still– because Doflamingo didn't exactly give him a lot of space– Rosinante looked hopeful.

"More ammo?"

Doffy sighed. "No, not that. We're going to have to make do with knives and improvised weapons for a bit longer."

Rosi's brows pinched together cutely, not liking the sound of that. He didn't like close-range fighting. Not because he was so disgusted by the rotting flesh of the infected or out of fear of being bitten, no; he didn't like how personal the necessary violence felt, how it felt like he was killing actual people when they were so close.

Doflamingo, on the contrary, infinitely preferred it.

He brushed some of Rosinante's overgrown locks out of his face, touching his cheek with his thumb, cupping his jaw.

"I got us fresh meat. There was actually an animal without any infection. I'll make you a nice dinner tonight."

"You should eat too," Rosi said, brown eyes staring into his own, seeing right through what he hadn't said. "Every time you find something good you give me the bigger portion. You do most of the work to keep us safe so you actually need it more than I do."

Doflamingo chuckled. "That's a nice thought, Rosi, but I don't need all that much. My health is fine. I'm more concerned with how skinny you're getting."

Rosinante sputtered. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are." Doflamingo removed the hand that was on his face to squeeze the flesh at his side, making Rosi's cheeks turn pink. "Even your adorable love handles have gone down. You looked so healthy before all this started."

Rosi smacked his hand away, embarrassed.

"Why do you want me to be fat? Stop it."

"It's not that I want you to be fat..."

Rosi rolled his eyes.

"But you're so cute when you're chubby! It's nice to cuddle."

Rosinante had to push his wandering hands away for a second time, feeling way too self-conscious. "Find someone else to torment."

Doffy backed off with a chuckle, knowing when to stop teasing. He didn't understand why Rosi felt that way when everything he was telling him was a good thing. Rosinante had a body most people would be jealous of, he was sure; fit, tall and strong but not all sharp angles and hard edges like himself, because ever since they'd been reunited a few years ago after so many years forced apart by a cruel system, Doflamingo had always made sure Rosi would want for nothing. Before the outbreak of infection that ravaged their country and turned resources scarce, he had been well taken care of and looked it.

Rosi sat up in bed, patting around the dresser for the cigarettes he seemed to never run out of. If Doflamingo's eyes lingered a little too long on the soft folds of his belly that became visible only in this position, and a good while longer on his lips as he put the cigarette between them– Rosinante didn't call him out on it.

A/N; This is part of a bigger AU I had planned a while back, that I unfortunately don't think I will get to return to with the commitment I wanted for it any time soon. The AU was made for the Straw Hats, but there was meant to be a Donquixote bros + Law side story where really Rosi was just trying his best to make them get along and fight the zombies instead of each other XD I don't know if anyone would be interested in more of this– the main story or this side one– but let me know if you'd like me to write more short segments like this one!

#donquixote doflamingo #donquixote rosinante #donquixote corazon #doflacora #dofcora #well it's heavily HEAVILY implied anyway XD #one piece fic #doflamingo #donquixote brothers #abandoned WIP graveyard #one piece zombie apocalypse au

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zeherili-ankhein · 3 months

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Bestie pls explain the plot of Kalki 2898 AD to me I'm dying to know 😭😭

Ok soooo.... Also sorry if this is too long cuz I'm getting as much as details I can possibly remember. Chhote se chhota detail.. and also I'll try to be as neutral as possible but don't mind if some of my own judgements starts to face...

Also I watched the hindi dub so if I quote any dialogues they'll be hindi...

SOILER ALERT FOR EVERYONE ELSE and some tw

To start with,

At first we're shown Uttara, then the Mahabharat scenes (which I had actually missed cuz I entered the hall just in time to see Krishna entering the screen...) of (face less) Krishna cornering A.B's Ashwatthama and cursing him... Then telling to wait for Kalki to come.

Now,

There's this dystopia/post apocalyptic kinda setting and the only remaining city is Kashi. And in Kashi, there's this high society thing called Complex. That's like the only building with everything good in it, because they basically take everything and put in there, and baki sab bahar gareebi mein ji rha hai.

On the first scene we're introduced to this young *boy* and *boy*'s brother traveling with some other people from their village to settle in Kashi, and a young girl was really ill and her most probably big brother or father starts asking for some water as she starts coughing very badly. And this old sus looking man, offers some because no one else did (might be because they didn't even have water with them...)

So now young *boy* and *boy*'s curious brother (who's a lil piece of shit I tell you in advance) ask sus grandpa what he's doing there, and they have a small conversation where *boy* says “yeah Kashi the last remaining city” and grandpa says “na Kashi the first ever city”. Then gramps asks *boy* 'if they are brother and sister?' to which *boy* gets offended and just goes of with usual 'dikhta nahi hai kya' and stuff... To which grandpa just nods and looks outside the vehicle (which looks like a literal cage) and says “hum sab ka paap dhote dhote sukh gayi kya maa...”

Next scene they have arrived in Kashi.

And some... I'd call them thugs typa people, who 'unofficially' work for the complex because if you hand over the bounty(s) and/or women that are “fertile” you will be rewarded units and if you have collected an amount of units you can go and stay at the Complex which in this world, given the situations is nothing less than reaching heavens...

So now this thugs are separating the males and the females without telling the newcomers why they are doing that... And they starts to use some device which they hold against everyone's lower abdomen area and if it goes red they're male thus the thugs leave them alone. But if it's green it means they are female and they are taken.

The young ill girl from earlier was kind of hidden by her gaurdian, but when they put that device near her and started to pull her to take her with them and gaurdian guy basically starts begging them to not take her.

The leader thug explains why they want to take the women as it will give them a lot of units. So now lil shit brother says he'll give them a girl and starts to piont where *boy* was standing, and it's revealed the boy was actually a girl named Raya, who was just under the guise of being a boy.

Now a fight breaks out between sus grandpa and thugs where it is further revealed grandpa is one of the “rebels” who are the only ones to know where Shambhala is and stay there, waiting for Kalki.

In this fight some of the other rebels also join in and we see another woman (Mrunal Thakur) hiding who nearly got caught by the thugs. Grandpa saves her and kind of temporarily hides under the tunnels, where we see get to see the “rebels”.

They bring out the hologram call device to make grandpa communicate with another party of “rebels” consisting of an grumpy middle aged man Veeran, an equally grumpy guy (whose name I forgot) and a sunshine girl Kyra. Who tells grandpa that Mariem is waiting for him and connects the call with this lady called Mariem, who's in Shambhala. They give Raya a gemstone to keep.

Grandpa and her were conversing about grandpa returning to Shambala, when the thugs again attack them and capture him and Mrunal.

They are showed infront of this general kinda guy (Saswata Chatterjee) I forgot his name... Who basically tells grandpa to either give Mrunal to him or reveal where's Shambhala. Grandpa refuses but gets pressurized, but even Mrunal tells grandpa to not tell general guy anything saying she doesn't want her child to be born in such a shitty world. So General guy kills both Mrunal and Grandpa infront of everyone.

And spots the other rebels who had manages to run away earlier and sends the thugs and his own men after them.

One of the rebels gets cornered by the thug leader and his paltan because he now has a large sum of bounty on his head.

Where we are introduced to this A.I vehicle called Bujji who basically claims that rebel guy for herself and her master, a bounty hunter who works for non sides. For whom she kinda does a big ahh intro, only for that guy to be a complete lazy idiot. Now Bhairava (Prabhas' character) after a lot of cliche not gonna fight serious-fight serious drama later manages to make the thugs go away... Atleast for now.

Bhairava becomes kind of a hero for the rebel guy, who starts innocently wow-ing over him and asks him to join the rebels.

Bhairava refuses and tells he's trying to get inside the Compound for a very long time and is collecting the units, and will hand over rebel guy (but he doesn't and just keeps him handcuffed to where he stays on rent)

Now scene changes and we are shown the insides of the Complex and the women that are held captive over there.

Experiments are done on them to see who could get pregnant. Those who gets are given good food and facilities to stay, but they do not let the babies get born. Because they are basically getting the womens pregnant to keep the embryo for atleast 100 days and then they will extract it in a form of a “Serum” for the main boss Supreme Yaskin (which is just Kali)

But nobody is able to survive more than 3 months so whenever they try to extract the “Serum” at the maximum days (which is still less than 100) everyone just dies..

Now, the “unfertile” women who couldn't get pregnant, maybe because of some failed experiments or so... Are kept as kind of slaves who don't get nice food and just helps around the pregnant womens...

And we get to know one of them (Deepika's character) from up close. She helps one of the pregnant ladies, who warns her that being pregnant over there is not a nice experience...

(call me a failure every time I say the word pregnant...)

Now general guy comes and kind of yells on some of the scientists saying 'The Supreme' has called him that day to update on the ‘Project K’'s “Serum” but as we know nobody was/is able to survive the entire time period, and the highest days are by far is just 80. That's the woman Deepika's character was helping.

So they starts doing the extraction process on her and she dies...

NOW, we get to know that Deepika's character – SUM 80 is actually pregnant... That also for MORE THAT 5 MONTHS! which is ofcourse beyond anyone have survived till now... Indicating that child in the womb is ofcourse special... And we understand that's Kalki. But she's just hiding it well under her long black clothes...

On the meantime we're introduced to another character named 'Professor' Bani, who's like the right hand man of Yaskin. He takes general guy and scientist dude (who wanted to meet Yaskin himself to clear his doubts about ‘Project K’ himself.. because not even general guy knows wtf is ‘Project K’) to where Yaskin is.

Yaskin is in some kind of globe type place with water on the floor and he's just dangling in the air doing something like meditation and stuff..

Basically what happens is scientist was kind of a good guy and gets killed by Yaskin because he tried to attack him..

Now back to SUM 80, another one of the girls snitch on her after knowing she's pregnant, to a guard who had previously threatened to assault SUM 80...

And the scientists take her extract the “Serum” but only one drop was extracted when we get to know that snitch girl – Lily is actually a rebel undercover who now destroyed the wires to save pregnant SUM 80, cuz it was just too brutal for her.

So Lily sacrifices her life and makes an way to let SUM 80 escape.. she had also called for that previous rebel party let by grumpy Veeran to take SUM 80 away from there..

But there was a fire before the main escape so, somehow mysteriously SUM 80 escapes the fire but the guards trying to catch her become crisps..

Veeran and his team takes in a scared SUM 80 in their ship to take her to Shambhala, as instructed by Mariem. Because everyone (Shambhala peoples and rebels) kinda knows now that that's Kalki in her womb.

ALSO now SUM 80 has the biggest bounty on her head... So yeah ofcourse Bhairava and the other thugs are gonna try to catch her (seperately ofcourse..)

*I didn't tell this before because it wasn't really important but Bhairava tried to break in the Complex with his friend Roxie (Disha Patani's character who's in love with Bhairava) who works there. But he was thrown away so now he wants to get inside even more...

Kyra becomes super excited and starts to chatter with SUM 80, who she kindly gives a name Sumati (sounding like SUM 80) after knowing she never had a name..

We get to know Kyra and that other grumpy guy are engaged and are planning to get married once they get back to Shambhala..

But right then, they are attacked by the thugs with who while fighting unfortunately Kyra dies... And like dies in the way they can't even retrieve her body back... cuz she falls down the ship and they can't stop at anything..

And when they are again trying to run, another person gets introduced...

So remember Raya? While she was being chased by the Complex gaurds earlier, she runs a little outside Kashi. But before she could get caught she falls and hides inside a temple. There when the guards tried to find and take her, a big guy suddenly gets somewhat like awakened and takes the gemstone from Raya and puts it on his forehead.

And then Ashwatthama basically beats the shit out of everyone and saves Raya, with whom he has communication problems and language gap of over 6000 years...

Back to rebels and Sumati, when Bhairava tried to kidnap her. That was the moment ‘Ashwa uncle’ as Raya calls him, comes and both of them had a big 1 on 1 fight moment... Ofcourse after Ashwatthama beats up the gaurds and thugs.. to protect Sumati. (Because that's his purpose now as Krishna told him after cursing him back then)

This is Bhairava vs an 8 feet tall 6000 something year old guy who has fought in Mahabharat ka yudh...

But surprisingly Bhairava gave a nice challenge, he lost though..

The weapon we see Ashwatthama fighting with is somewhat a – tall similar to his height – danda.

*Another scene we see, is of that Bani guy with some fellow gaurds discovering an Dhanush in the middle of nowhere, which neither any human nor machine was able to touch... So he somehow takes with him to his office (we're never shown how)*

Now leaving behind, a defeated Bhairava, Kyra and her memories along with the young couple's dream of a future together... Veeran, Sumati, Raya and Ashwatthama reaches Shambhala.

Where Mariem welcomes them and tells Sumati that they have been waiting for her – Maa – for so so long... A person tries to protest that Sumati cannot be Maa. But at that exact moment we see it raining after A VERY long period of time.

*simultaneously in Kashi, Bhairava while fighting some thugs (after he was forever banned from the Compound because thug leaders blammed him for Sumati's escape..) catches one of the old mandir's Rath's paiya structure that was falling down because of thunder striking it. While an old man who have a Kaal Bhairav murti with him... Says some dialogue about him remember the murti with him was Kaal Bhairav the protector of Kashi..*

So now everyone accepted that Sumati is Maa, and takes care of her and tells her how her child is supposed to save the world.. she at first gets scared but after Ashwatthama explains everything she listens and stays hidden inside a BIG tree with him...

Now we get to know that Danda is actually Karna's Vijaya Dhanush (idk man I think I made a mistake with the time and scenes but whatever)

*We're basically over her shown another flashback of Raya asking Ashwa uncle if he was the strongest warrior in Kurukshetra... And him saying “Karna was the strongest” *

With a flashback of Arjun (Vijay Deverakonda) basically dishing Karna (in an arrogant way nontheless) and Krishna saying to reconsider his words as Karna was better.... And he was only winning because he has Rath given by Agnidev, Pavan putra Hanuman on his flag and all...

(I personally found that very illogical and very wrong and have been yelling about that since... Even on Tumblr)

So now we go back to Bhairava, who we get to know made a deal would bring back both Sumati and Ashwatthama, as he was the only one who was able to fight him, in exchange of getting inside the Compound.

He spends all his unit repairing his vehicle and A.I Bujji (which was crumpled by Ashwatthama) and tricking that rebel fanguy he had captured into believing he's finally siding with the rebels and to take him to Shambhala..

But once inside Shambhala, Bhairava basically beats up everybody and tries to reach Sumati again, resulting in another fight between Ashwatthama and him.

Here, that general guy is called upon by Bani and informed of the Dhanush they have found. Bani tells him that how that Dhanush was made by Srishtikarta Bhrahmadev himself and given to Arjun. He tells how nobody was able to touch the Gandiva.

General guy refused to believe in the theory of Kalki is coming but Bani insists... With proves like Ashwatthama, the rain and all.

Back at Shambhala, before anything can settle... General had already found the place and attacked resulting in a full blown fight between both parties, where he kills Mariem.

While everyone is busy fighting eachother Bhairava and Ashwatthama were still going at eachother but now with Sumati almost caught Ashwatthama is forced to save her. Which doesn't really go well, as Bhairava continues being a little bitch and keeps on attacking Ashwatthama...

At a point of time, when Sumati was about to fall down from a bridge, Bhairava finally lends an hand and pulls her up.

And we are shown another scene of the Vijaya Dhanush now danda going to Bhairava's hand and him defending Ashwatthama who was on a verge of attack, and saying something like “aane mein der to nahi huya na Acharya putra?” with another flashback of Mahabharat with same to same dialogue against Arjun-Krishna and a fallen on the ground Ashwatthama..

(I actually forgot how exactly these entire scene played out... Forgive me)

Then Bhairava basically kills the general by throwing Vijaya Dhanush so hard on him it impaled him and made him fall down from his flying vehicle..

But just then he's back to being Bhairava, out of his Karna fever and again forcefully takes Sumati with him on his own Vehicle and leaves Shambhala burning behind as Sumati keeps begging him not to take her to the Complex.

All while an helpless Ashwatthama stands there starring and Raya comes from behind to join him...

Now as the last scene (not post credit because it's shown before post credit) we see Bani giving Yaskin that one drop of “Serum” they were able to extract from Sumati's womb and him injecting that in himself and becoming more strong... Kyuki pehle wo thoda bohot Voldemort jaisa dikh rha tha.. ab ganja Thanos lag rha hai

And him picking up... Gandiva... Yeah... Gandiva...

Lo I explained it hehe also sorry if it is not clearly explained

“films are harder to explain as it is easier to understand” — my mass media teacher telling us to write an essay

#kalki2898ad #kalki movie #spoiler alert #explanation #broken explanation #desiblr #desi tumblr

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zephrunsimperium · 8 months

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Y'all... I have another AU ToT Bill got to be a human so naturally I made a completely different universe in which Ford is a demon. The brainrot is real and I wanna post stuff here soooooo

What I love about this AU is that I’ve put the twins in a world where their skill sets are valued at opposite levels than they were on earth. But I will say, this AU has developed so much that it's barely recognizable as having started from GF.

TW for death of a pregnant woman, spousal abuse/toxic relationships

Zeph's Demon Ford AU

Part I: Mortality

Stan is the leader of a thieving crew in an apocalyptic world called Scadrial. (I've based this part off of the world in Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn trilogy, but although I recommend it highly, I'll describe all of this so nobody has to have read it to understand.) As for Ford... He and Stan aren’t identical. Ford never bulks up like he does in canon. He likes to read and write but doesn't have much of an outlet for that - he’s just constantly journaling. He’s very quiet, but very spiteful. He doesn’t speak much and is very sickly and awkward. He also doesn’t sleep much so he’s got really sunken dark eyes behind longish dirty hair.

Stan obviously loves Ford very much, but the crew members are kinda pissed that he’s there because they feel like he doesn’t do anything and yet he gets paid for their work. At one point his journal gets stolen and he’s outed for his crush on one of the (male) crew members. This really weakens Stan’s reputation and the crew pulls a coup.

The twins end up on the streets and Ford just feels awful; he was utterly humiliated and the crew members really roughed him up. He hated feeling so weak. He also starts having awful nightmares; he's being targeted by a dream demon named Korro. The demon repeatedly asks Ford to make a deal with her, but Ford refuses again and again. Ford ends up killing a nobleman; for his pocket change, but really to prove something to himself. The noble's murder attracts the attention of law enforcement and he and Stan are captured. Before they're executed, Ford decides to take the demon's deal.

Part II: Fiddleford

Ford and Stan spend years as the demon's servant, until Ford is able to overthrow her, taking her power for himself. He received the powers of the dream demon and Stan received the power of a shapeshifting illusionist. They were left with a problem, however: if Sixer didn’t get enough worship, both he and Stan would die. Taking the name Sixer to separate himself from his younger, weaker self, he devised a strategy where he would find a mortal to seduce, squeeze all the worship he could out of them, kill them, and live off of the power until he needed to find someone else.

Eventually, Sixer started conning Fiddleford McGucket, a newly wed cattle driver in 1880s Texas. He preyed on Fiddleford’s closeted sexuality and faith, posing as an angel sent from god to help cure his sexual deviance. Fiddleford, however, took longer to con than most and Sixer was forced to spend more time with the man. Out of jealousy, he poisoned a pregnant EmmaMay, getting Fiddleford all to himself.

Sixer decided he had spent far too much time and energy on Fiddleford to murder him like the others - and growing up with very little as a child had made Sixer VERY territorial. Before Fiddleford could find out that Sixer had lied about being an angel, he convinced Fiddleford to give him his soul and make him immortal, gifting him the power to control memory and a body made of vegetation.

Fiddleford would spend the next century trying to justify…. Everything. Sure Sixer had lied and had been trying to con him, but he was clearly being given special treatment compared to Sixer's other victims. Sure he only admitted he loved him when he was intoxicated but he did love him! Sixer's drunken rants about his childhood and peeks into his memory only made him seem more redeemable.

(Stan, in case you’re curious, just eventually learned to do his own thing, scamming people on the internet by pretending to be a gamer girl named StaZ. He talked to Fiddleford one on one a lot but Sixer had changed so much, any interaction he had with him usually ended in a shouting match. Unable to leave, Stan just tries to keep his head down and enjoy what little he can)

Part III: Bill

While Sixer grew resentful of Fiddleford’s clinginess, Fiddleford grew resentful of Sixer’s unfair treatment. Eventually, he murdered one of Sixer’s targets in self defense, cutting off his worship supply. In retaliation, Sixer picked up a recently reincarnated Bill Cipher (from after the canon Weirdmageddon events) to make Fidds jealous.

Excited about the prospect of winning over a different Stanford with sticking it to a different Fiddleford as an added bonus, Bill agreed to the hook up and ended up convincing Sixer to get rid of Fiddleford entirely. Sixer hated the fact that his soft spot for Fidds had made him weak and Bill offered to fix the problem of his worship supply's connection to his mortality so it seemed a fair trade.

Sixer's regret for killing his unofficial consort was strong, but he tried his hardest to push it down. The regret grew, however, into resentment for Bill and Sixer decided to overthrow Bill the same way he did his old demon master. Bill figured out early that Sixer was planning something like this, but - unwilling to accept the idea of losing Ford a second time - denial prevented him from taking any course of action against Sixer's machinations. Until, that is, they grew too hard to ignore and Sixer exploded about how killing Fiddleford was the worst mistake he ever made.

Enraged by a second betrayal, Sixer met the same fate by Bill's hand that Fiddleford had met by Sixer's own.

(And Stan lived happily ever after)

#gravity falls #stanford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #bill cipher #fiddauthor #demon ford au #billford #emma may dixon #stanley pines #stan twins #gravity falls au

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winterpower98 · 8 months

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hello ^^ Could you give me a small overview of your LMK au‘s ? I feel like you have many great ones that I would love to explore 👉👈

Do you still update them ? It would help me enjoy them without getting my heart ripped out. You know, like knowing that your favorite character will die. You will still be sad but at least you know what you are getting yourself into and can prepare. That way, I can still enjoy au‘s while knowing "they are great but be prepared for an open ending"

wow, that was waaaay longer than I intended it to be.

I have far too many AUs to be able to make a summary of all of them, so I will just summarize my favorite/the more popular ones.

But here's a masterpost that has links to all of them so you can check them out yourself.

I do try to update them as often as I can but between irl issues and trying to get over burnout, it's been hard.

Cursed AU: Started just as 'Macaque gets stuck with a circlet on his head' and it's now turned into 'Every character is going to get 'cursed' at least once and maybe get a bigger found family in the process'.

Swap AU: Classic role swap, Mei gets MK's place and Macaque gets Wukong's place. There are a lot more role swaps than that, but the biggest change is that Sun Wukong is the main villain (TW for abusive relationship and manipulation through the whole AU)

Parents and Kiddos AU: Still set in modern times but now half the cast are kids and the other half gets to adopt them. Found family and daily shenanigans ensue.

Lantern of Memories AU: Post-apocalyptic AU where Lady Bone Demon won and Mei lost her memories (TW for major character death).

Of Gold Silver and Jade AU: Very self-indulgent AU where Mei gets raised by Jin and Yin. Everything else is pretty much the same.

Actor AU: Classic AU where the show that we watch is just that and we get to see a peak behind the scenes with the actors and their day-to-day lives with a touch of hidden magic here and there.

Dreaming in June AU: The AU where nothing bad happens, ever. No one got possessed, killed or hurt. Everyone is just living a happy life.

#lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid au #monkie kid #monkie kid au #winter answer #winterpower98

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universestreasures · 1 year

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@crimsonkaiser Sent: FOR THE “YOU CAN KILL ME BUT DON’T YOU DARE TOUCH THEM” DYNAMICS (Accepting)

[ EIGHTEEN ] receiver thinks they’re alone but sender comes out of nowhere to rescue them from someone who intends to do harm/making them uncomfortable. [@ Aichi, club was my first thought but protective kaichi could be any verse bc yes

“Hey there, Aichi...You still carrying around your old man’s sword I see...”

The sudden appearance of Morikawa causes the young teen to startle, Aichi frozen as the other approaches and essentially backs him into a literal street corner. He had been just finishing a few errands for his mother and was planning on heading back. Normally such duties were handled to Emi or Kamui, but ever since Kai came back into his life, he’s been feeling more comfortable going outside his house and into the village when before he would avoid it.

And it’s situations like the one he’s just found himself in that Aichi desperately oh so wanted to avoid. He didn’t do well with confrontation. He never has. That made him an easy target for bullies, especially ones who wanted something he had. Morikawa was no exception. Ever since Aichi inherited his father’s Blaster Blade, the egotistical spiked male has wanted to have it. It was a legendary magical weapon that has fought in countless battles and protected so many people, of course it was desirable. Still, you would think after so many years of trying to get it and Aichi protecting it with all his might that the other just give up, but Morikawa was as determined as he was loud, much to Aichi’s dismay.

“Don’t you think you’d be better off giving that sword to a real man that would get some use out of it? I’m sure your old man wouldn’t want his precious Blaster Blade to be sitting there collecting dust. And luckily for you, you got a real man right here who is more than happy to take it off your hands.”

“M-Morikawa, I-I’ve told you already! This...This sword is...is very important to me! I can’t...I can’t just give it up! A-And besides, this sword doesn’t work for just anyone! It needs to-”

Morkiawa’s hand slams into the wall beside the teen, Aichi tensing up at the suddenness of the movement. It was clear the taller teen wasn’t exactly happy with the younger one’s response. He wasn’t exactly the type to take no for an answer, after all. Any attempts made to get out of the situation are foiled, Morikawa using one of his feet to pin Aichi’s own to the ground.

It looks like there wasn’t a way out of this. He didn’t have the strength nor the courage to fight back. He wasn’t like his father, the great swordsmen Ahmes who fought for justice and peace using the sword his son now carried on his back. If it wasn’t for the fallen warrior’s last wish, for Aichi to inherit the blade and keep it as a reminder of him, then perhaps he would have long handed it over to Morikawa by now.

What would his father think of him, if he saw him like this?

That lingering question consumed Aichi’s mind as he closed his eyes in preparation for whatever beating was to come. It didn’t matter to him how broken his body would get. All he cared about in this moment was protecting the blade on his back, the precious gift from a loving father. That’s all he could do at the very least.

But the beating...never came? In fact, Aichi suddenly feels the pressure release from his foot. Cerulean hues then open themselves up again, a gasp soon escaping his lips after he comprehends the image in front of him. Morikawa was no longer in front of him, Aichi unable to see the other due to someone else blocking his view. And that person was...

“K-K-Kai Kun?!”

#💎 Solitary King Of Apocalyptic Flaming Thunder (Crimsonkaiser)#💎 Paladin Treasure (Aichi Sendou)#💎 Paladin Answers (Aichi Asks)#💎 Paladin's Home Of Magical Nobility (Aichi Nobles Of Nature AU)#tw bullying #tw mention of death #tw long post #(CLUB WAS ALSO MY FIRST THOUGHT TILL I REMEMEBRED FOR NOBLES WE SET UP MORKIKAWA AND HIS CREW BEING JERKS TO AICHI AND WELL PROTECTIVE BF #(KAI KUN TO THE RESCUE IS WHAT I NEED IN MY LIFE SO #(PLUS I HAVE A TON OF S1 ERA ICONS FROM EP 1 I NEED TO USE SO

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sunrise-imagines · 1 year

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Absolutely no one has requested this but I wanted to write some headcanons about Vampireworld!Martin because my god it’s so nice to see him be a good person for once.

TW: Very brief mention of death, self indulgent mess

Vampireworld! Martin Mertens x Reader Relationship Headcanons

• He’s just a silly goofy lil guy.

• Constantly cracking jokes and trying to lighten the mood, it’s almost impossible to feel bad when he’s around.

• Gives the biggest and warmest hugs ever, and would hold you forever if he could.

• Living in a post apocalyptic wasteland makes it hard to find time to relax, but somehow he’s able to find areas safe from vampires for you guys to hang out and take a breather from fighting

• His favorite thing to do with you is to go scavenging, he loves looking around and finding all sorts of cool stuff from before the war (Bonnie is not happy about all the “junk” you guys find piling up in the tank)

• Always ready to defend you if a vampire tries to attack, this is the only time when he isn’t smiling because he’s so concerned for your safety.

• Martin’s an old guy and so he likes to just lay and relax with you, joking that your warmth is the only thing that can soothe his old bones.

• There isn’t much around in terms of food, but whatever he cooks for you is always delicious (at least yall have garlic lol)

• He convinced Bonnie to let them hang up a dartboard on the wall so you, him and Huntress occasionally have dart throwing competitions (Huntress almost always wins).

• Has a habit of forgetting things after he sets them down, he once spent half a day looking for his jacket only for you to remind him he put it in the wash.

• Will slap your butt as you pass by just as a joke, and wouldn’t be offended if you did the same back.

• If he found out he was going to be a father, he’d be pretty scared. He had a wife and even a kid at one point, but they were both killed by vampires and he doesn’t want history to repeat itself. But in the end, he’d still be excited and do his best to take care of you both.

#adventure time x reader #adventure time imagines #fionna and cake x reader #fionna and cake fanfic #fionna and cake imagine #adventure time fanfic #adventure time #martin mertens x reader #martin x reader #martin mertens #vampireworld martin mertens x reader #sfw #sfw headcanons

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bl-danmei-planet · 1 year

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Hi....If you don't mind, can I ask, what are your top 10 (or top 7) favorite BL media (can be books/ manga/ anime/movies/tv series)? Why do you love them? Sorry if you've answered this question before......Thanks....

Hi! Thank you for your message 💖

I like works that are darker, explicit, and deal with some sort of trauma and BDSM relationship. My favorite trope is puppy top/tsundere bottom so you will find that in most of these works as well.

Ten Count

by Rihito Takarai, manga,tw: dubcon, mentall illness(OCD), 6 volumes + audio drama, upcoming anime (2023?)

This is the first explicit yaoi I read. The main couple are in a BDSM relationship. It's very psychological and deals with sexual trauma and sexual liberation.

The Pawn's Revenge

by EVY, manwha, crime, tw: sex trafficking, violence

Although the story's setting is dark the main couple are very loving as they form a strong bond when they become accomplices in crimes. I also love how the bottom in this story is quite strong although he has a dark past.

Husky and his white cat Shizun/2ha

by Meatbun doesn't eat meat, danmei, fantasy, tw: noncon, student-teacher relationship, +5 volumes, +manhua&audio drama

My favorite danmei and my all time favorite BL! It has equal parts of smut and angst, which I personally love. The main character has done great sins in his life and he gets transmigrated to get a fresh start. 2ha deals with the guilt, forgiveness, shame, and unconditional love.

Lullaby of the dawn

by Ichiko Yuna, manga, fantasy, 3/4 volumes

Amazing wholesome fantasy romance with a puppy top and a shy tsundere bottom.

Painter of the night

by ByeonDuck, Manwha, Historical, tw: noncon/dubcon.

Painter of the night has a beautiful art style that captures emotions and eroticsm very well. The work also deals with trauma,homophobia, and sexual freedom.

ENNEAD

by Mojito, Manwha, Historical, tw: noncon

This is a mythological retelling set in Ancient Egypt. It is a harem-type drama with a slowburn between a puppy top and an arrogant bottom.

Twittering Birds Never Fly

by Kou Yoneda, Manga, Yakuza. Tw: csa, 7+ volumes +anime

This work also deals with trauma (csa) and how the main couple deals with it as they entangle in a complicated relationship with each other. It's both very bittersweet and psychological.

In These Words

by GuiltPleasure, manga, crime, tw: noncon, gore, +4 volumes+side stories/prequels

This work is not for everyone, it is so far the most dark and explicit work I've read. I love it as someone who's into Hannibal, horror, crime, and dark romance. The storytelling and art style are top notch.

Heaven official's blessing/Tian Guan Ci Fu

by MXTX, danmei, fantasy, 8 volumes, + manhua,audio drama and donghua.

Although I prefer darker and smuttier works, I absolutely love Tgcf which has a very sweet friends-to-lovers slowburn. Tgcf has a vast world building and in-depth character study. You could say it also deals with sexual repression. I love how the main couple protects each other throughout the story.

Little Mushroom

by Shisi, danmei, post-apocalyptic, 2 volumes, +manhua&audio drama

This is a great scifi story and the BL part of it is a bonus! The main couple represent opposites sides of the story symbolically, which I really love.

#boy's love #yaoi #danmei #recs

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cynopter · 11 months

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Orange Peels on Fire: aka Townsend lore

because someone asked: here's a big dump of stuff about the story Townsend is from, i.e. the narrator of Choker!

Major TW for suicide/hanging, and obviously OCD.

Also, heads up that it's a really silly, REALLY emo story about ghost hunting lol.

Townsend is the deuteragonist of a (really extremely unfinished) story I had, that was provisionally called Orange Peels on Fire (opof). I started working on it when I was watching a lot of Demon Slayer, and it was basically my attempt to create a cast of shounen anime characters who were all girls but look exactly like the typical shounen anime protagonists. (I mention Demon Slayer because I took a LOT of inspiration from that - at times I described it to people as a shitty lesbian Vietnamese Demon Slayer knockoff... wow it's like it was made for me!!!)

A lot of lore is super wishy-washy because I did like the OG concept art in 2021, then I just kinda fucked around until 2022 when I revamped it for a screenwriting class. I don't really consider either version more canon, but I did a lot more work on the screenwriting version so I'll just describe that :P

Setting

It's set in post-apocalyptic US (either Virginia or like California but I couldn't commit because I've never seen California). A lot of the human population is gone - old civilization is being reclaimed by nature and the surplus oxygen means that there are also giant bugs now who take a lot of the niches previously held by mammals (like mice, dogs, deer etc). The oxygen is also how I campily explain away people being able to do epic anime jumps and stuff lmao. This, plus global warming, also means that the middle of North America now has a sort of tropical climate.

The part that actually matters is everyone in the US lives in tiny villages created out of suburban neighborhoods, and they're constantly having Ghost and Monster Problems of some nature because society has forgotten how to properly bury the dead --- and also because that apocalyptic event 100-or-so years ago caused so many ghosts to be created.

Phượng Lê

The protagonist is Phượng Lê, an 18 year old girl who can see ghosts. She's a triplet, with a living brother (Thanh) and a stillborn sister (the titular Cam / "Orange") who she's always seen as just a normal sister because she's a ghost that lives with them.

(All three of these characters are from a depressing realistic fiction short story I wrote, which I personally consider to be their "true" versions, but I imported them into this because I thought it'd be stupid and funny to turn a story like that into a shounen anime lol)

This is what Phượng looks like! (modern on left, old on right)

She's struggled with depression her whole life, partially because everyone thinks she's a sad and delusional pyromaniac for acting like she has a living sister (whose bones she keeps in a box) and for burning stuff to send it to her. Because of that she puts a LOT of stock in Cam's happiness because keeping Cam's ghost kind of cost her everything (including her parents abandoning them etc).

Cam's remains get stolen one day and long story short, Phượng and Thanh end up traveling around the country trying to solve ghost problems, scooby-doo style, in pursuit of the person who stole them. There's like a different category of ghost every time, based on Vietnamese folklore. (And if you're wondering, Cam's bones are valuable because stillborn baby remains can be used for evil magic, which is of course what the evil people in this story want to do).

That finally brings us to...

Townsend! (aka May Hoàng)

Townsend has pretty different lore between 2021 and 2022, but again I'm going with the latter because I've spent more time on that.

In the story:

She's a self-proclaimed "evil ghost" who haunts a tree at the edge of town. Phuong comes to her to ask if she's seen Cam; Townsend is surprised to meet a human who's friendly to ghosts.

She lightly antagonizes P & Th (in what is later revealed to be an attempted suicide-by-cop type thing) and runs away from them a few times before finally deciding to join their team. (In some versions she has to pretend to be human to deceive Irene, the secretly evil lady helping P & Th out).

Originally I had her birth name as Townsend - in the most recent iteration, this is a nickname Phượng gives her through this miscommunication:

She's the only member of the team who can actually, you know, touch ghosts? (Except when Phuong goes all danny phantom on their asses but I don't need to get into that).

Despite this, and despite the fact that she constantly threatens to kill people*, she basically bursts into tears at the thought of enacting violence on people/ghosts, so she ends up just serving as their strategist **(as the only one who isn't kind of dumb lol).

* Her catch phrase is basically "Don't touch me, i'll kill you." This is really emo lol, but what you find out eventually is this is actually a warning and not a threat.

**Specifically, because Thanh is the only one with absolutely no ghost powers, he has to use weapons made by Phuong, and because Phuong is like the main character, Townsend and Thanh have to work together to strategize & fight in the background. That's a whole arc because Townsend is a coward who doesn't want to be in fights, and Thanh doesn't trust Townsend because she constantly threatens to kill him and Phuong. Fair, I guess.

Townsend's backstory:

She's supposed to be this fundamentally irrational character, who eventually becomes a love interest of Phượng (they're both lesbians) but still never brings herself to stop antagonizing her whenever they get too close. After months and months of working together, Phượng finally gets Townsend's backstory:

She was originally a 17-year-old girl named May Hoàng, who lived in a town next to Phượng's. She suffered from something that we would in modern times describe as OCD, but had since been forgotten by society because of the apocalypse (rip). Her family was Catholic, and they didn't think much of her earlier obsessions (except that she was being annoying), but when she confided in them about her newest obsession about dropping and strangling her baby brother, Meri, they confided in the church - and eventually all the townsfolk came to believe she was being influenced by the devil.

May's parents kept trying to work with her, but eventually she ran away to hang herself.* In some versions, instead of going through with that, she conveniently gets attacked by a hangman ghost (which is how I really loosely translated ma thần vòng) right before that, who strangles her and she still dies. Fun!

*This is what's described in the beginning of Choker. In the original version, she runs away on the back of a giant-giant american millipede, as depicted on the cover, and that becomes kind of a faithful steed that they can all ride around on later.

Either way, what she didn't realize (I guess because she's Catholic) is that if you hang yourself and nobody finds your body, you turn into a hangman ghost, and can only pass on if you strangle a living person to take your place.

So..... obviously that's not going to happen.

Phượng & Townsend

May died about a year before the story starts. She was kind of hoping Phượng could just exorcize her, but because it takes about 3 seconds to realize May isn't actually a threat, Phượng refuses to do that.

Instead they kind of fall in love (shipname Phuongsend if you're wondering lol), and they eventually figure out she's just mentally ill and reinvent ERT or something.

Meanwhile, because of both Cam and May, the whole team is looking for a way to turn ghosts back into living people. I never decided if they actually succeed, but honestly I don't think they ever will. May committed suicide and that's just not something you can undo.

As foils

They both care a lot about each other, but that's despite (or maybe because of?) some very conflicting values. There's a little undercurrent of each trying to change the other's morals.

Phượng's mother abandoned her and Thanh because of her obsession with her sister, Cam, who was stillborn and never even got a chance at life. She's only leaving home now to find that sister and maybe even bring her back to life.

From Phượng's perspective, May HAD a shot at life, and somehow thinks she has the right to get it back even after squandering it. May also loves her baby sibling to death, but her idea of protecting him was to run away forever --- and to Phuong, that's just about the worst thing you can do to someone you love.

They were both treated as heretics, but Phượng reacted by getting a superiority complex and starting to hate everyone, while May still thinks everyone is fundamentally good, except herself. Phượng is (technically) a younger sister and constantly pushes back against Thanh's overprotectiveness, something May sees as disrespectful and scary, as an older sister who spent years obsessing over Meri's safety. Finally, Phượng's violent tendencies/occasional anger issues are something May sees as a big moral problem.

And.... that was a LOT. I'm not sure if I'll keep this post up honestly because there's still like a TINY chance I'll adapt this into something. But for now enjoy the lore dump :P

#my posts #my art #opof #townsend #phuong #rch #i really meant to put this on my main blog but oh well #also not to be serious on this post but i finally just got my official ocd diagnosis irl lmao

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