bakerstreet | The ruin of us all

The ruin of us all

Ruinous Romantic Tension
a post-apocalyptic shipping and smut meme

Calamity makes strange companions, but when the world's gone topsy turvy, beggars can't be choosers. The world has ended, apocalypse is nigh, zombies are here, the evil empire has won, or you've crashed into a hostile planet...all roads have lead to the same ugly place. Survival has become your only goal, and two heads are less likely to be on the chopping block than one, so no matter if you're a people person or a lone wolf, you've found one other survivor - or they found you and gave you little choice - to be an extra lifeline and source of safety.

Your life before fades away into the gray. What remains is the drive to live through this, day by day, though you at least have someone to watch your back and help you with the grueling tasks before you.

Of course, the mind is a strange thing, which means even when tunnel vision comes standard with your troubles, thoughts and feelings can get jumbled. Relying on someone is a form of intimacy, perhaps an ultimate form, and could lead to dependency or other deep, conflicting feelings...feelings the two of you may just keep shoving deep down because that line of thought is far from safe. Not the right place. Not the right time. Repress it.

Until you just can't anymore.

tl;dr: "Two people are partners in a post-apocalyptic or other dark/"rough" setting who have been traveling together for a long time, depending on each other for survival. They've also been ignoring the unresolved sexual tension/attraction between them. One night while taking shelter, they finally give in and have sex even though they shouldn't, or they worry about how it will affect their partnership."

HOW TO PLAY

Inspired by the rpanons thread here.
Top level with your character, info, preferences, limit (shipping only, no smut, smut okay, etc.)
Reply to others.
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OPTIONS

SHIPPING
SMUT

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[Open to shipping and fluff, but no smut please!]

[Shipping, non-shipping. Okay with either]

[ shipping + smut both welcome! ]

[ shipping is a-ok, smut is a--also a-ok just be warned it's been a while since i've done smut lmao ]

[ shipping is fine, would prefer no smut ]

[It's been months since the apocalypse--that wasn't anything new. The club had been together for a while and all four of them were surviving. A little worse for wear, maybe, but that was fine. Everything was just fine. That is, until the club got split up. The mob had cut off Kurumi and Yuuri from the other two members of the club.

It hadn't been a very good month. Still. Well, they at least had each other and the other two had to be out there. Miki was smart and Yuki... Yuki was getting better at things.

For now, though, it was just the two of them in their makeshift camp. It's just before sunrise and Kurumi's on her feet. Her shovel is over her shoulder as she paces around the small area they've claimed for themselves. It's quiet; maybe they had went home for the night.

That's when she hears something.]

Rii-san? You're up early.

(I'd rather play smut by ear than guarantee it. No Wardens, please.)

( shipping + gen chill, no smut please )

[ mornings always seems to tarry at this part of the space and when they do come, it's always for no more than five hours. it took a few weeks for them to figure out a way to measure the hours according to the movement of the three moons that circle the planet. by now, steve has drawn a little star chart and hung it on the wall of the little wrecked spacecraft that they have reluctantly began to call home.

it seems to be the only thing found on this planet except for wildlife, ruins. it's always a terrible sort of feeling, climbing into them for scrapes of this or that, almost like robbing a graveyard. most days, steve feels as if they are living in someone else's home. the only thing working on the little ruin is a system of emergency lights that comes on and off, filling the space with a dim red light that he has come to hate.

they make do, however, without discussing the 'when' and 'if' the marsiva shall ever make its way back to collect its two missing people. it was a subject of conversation at first but after a few weeks, it has become daunting.

they look, of course, search through the ruins for any way to send a signal out. not an easy task, when darkness falls, the larger predators seek their prey and they take to staying out of their way. whatever little hunting they do doesn't seem to disturb the system. it was only hares at first and then something resembling a deer. it still bothers him, the physical aspect to it, the snapping of neck and the blood.

it was a large bird today, a cousin of a tallbird if he had to guess it. he is busy wiping his hands clean when he feels her just behind him. turning, he smiles ( funnily, despite it all, he doesn't need to remind himself how to ). ]

catch any sleep?

A few hours -- just about.

[ on impulse, she allows her hand to linger against the small of his back. a touch, or two, against the dew-damp cotton of his shirt. a quiet little good morning in a world that seems to have forgotten conversational niceties. peggy steps beyond him and watches as the light casts its predictable red rhythm over steve's features. he's stubbled; not so clean cut, these days. and she knows their time spent surviving has treated her much the same. somehow, those details don't matter as much as the larger ones. food, water, shelter, and sanity. ]

And what have we here? Today's meals, I take it. [ she begins to reach for a tactical knife -- long ago re-purposed as a kind of 'kitchen' blade. ] I can take it from here, if you like.

[ she knows he hates the killing and the gutting and the cleaning. he doesn't need to tell her so; she's learned how to read it in his eyes. ]

((Crossovers & AUs welcome!))

Found him wandering near the little river.

[ it's always a bit of a challenge here. one can find game easily enough, the trick is making sure no one else is stalking it. There is a nasty breed of leopards in the depths of the woods, the scars one gave him once have long healed but he learned his lesson. ]

got these too.

[ berries of a kind. he draws these as well, watches what the animals eat and what they won't touch, catalogs them. they have pages upon pages of these, what to pick and what to leave be. ]

I'll help.

[ it's not pride that speaks here. it's an understanding that there is nothing here that they need face alone. she doesn't like it any more than he does, after all. he draws his own blade, clean today. he doesn't like bloodshed in the hunt, the scent would always draw other animals for the prize. when they do this, the cleaning is always quick and practical. ]

-- How domestic of us.

[ despite the sarcasm, she does intend it with a heavy dose of affection. peggy grabs one of the large birds by a scruff of feathers. nothing about this is palatable, except the understanding that they can't simply waste away via a desire to be perfectly peaceful. neither of them were quitters; both of them fought hard to survive. they would fight through this, as well.

and with teamwork, they clean and dress their day's rations much more quickly than either of them could do alone. ]

Definitely beats the whole dinner and dancing concept.

[ he counters as they set to work. it used to be messy at first but by now they are both more proficient. it doesn't take terribly long, not with how efficient they have become at this and when it's all said and done, they always spill some water, wash away the blood so it shall not lure any other interested parties to their little make-do home. ]

here.

[ he is always quick to clean his hands, dislikes all the wild red that taint them; not a sight that will reach any merchandise material, captain america with blood-stained hands. it's always the same, an old rag dipped in cold water. today, bu some rare indulgence, he tugs her hand into his clean one, wipes the red off of it, practiced but somewhat leisurely, still. ]

We can still have dinner and we can still dance. Music or no music.

[ -- she almost levels it like a threat, hidden behind a smile. but everything softens after the chore of washing down the work-space and rinsing clean the knifes. but then work turns to a spark of affection, and she lets him patiently wipe the stains from her fingers. at first, she watches the blood run off her skin. but, after a moment, she watches his eyes instead. ]

We're making the best of it, aren't we?

We always have.

[ his love for her has started at the darkest of days, after all, in a world torn by battle. They have very rarely known many peaceful days since. They're both fighters, him and her but even here they find their quieter moments. They have started their stay here in separate spaces but there were so many hours of darkness to fill. He had one book on him when they were stranded here, Dante's Inferno ( they both laughed at the irony ); and one long night brought him to her when the silence became too much. They went through a few pages together and he hasn't left after that.

They are almost in Purgatory now and Steve is far too used to holding her as they read. It's a comfort and a necessity, feeling her there, being sure of her presence. Even now, his fingers skim against her already clean wrist, as if he can't bring himself to let go of her yet. ]

What song are we dancing to?

[ he asks even as he pulls her closer, wraps her in his arms. ]

Riiiiin-chan~!

[Living like this is rough, of course, but Kida finds it exhausting to keep the grim, battle-weary vassal act up all the time. Besides--as he often tells her--even a world as empty and grown-over as the one they explore now, as alone as Adam and Eve, is much more fun with a cute girl around.

He scrabbles up and over a ten-foot-tall tree root and bounds towards her, using his ratty, once-white sweatshirt as a holding bag.]

Fear not! Your loyal servant has returned with food fit for a princess!

[ theirs has been a strange and slow courtship -- alien, almost, with how the unfriendly planet has shaped their interactions. despite the breadth of the ruins, it always made the most sense to stay nearer one another. suddenly, marooned, they were always in each others' space. a shirt couldn't be changed or a nightmare endured without an audience. their reading dates (so-named affectionately in her own thoughts, although she hasn't spoken the name aloud yet) had become dependable benchmarks of their nights. some days, she would spend her hours distracted by the anticipation of leaning her cheek against his chest and listening to his voice rumble through the lines.

even now, she thinks about that sensation when she strides smoothly into his arms. ] Something by Duke Ellington. If I shut my eyes -- [ and she does ] -- I can almost hear the brass.

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The ruin of us all

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Jackson Deveaux | The Arcana Chronicles

Jamie Campbell | Zoo

yu kanda // d.gray-man // ota

Grace Ford | OC | m/f

John Watson | Sherlock | M/M

peggy carter » mcu » ota

Scarecrow | Batman Arkham Knight | ota

Yuuri Wakasa | School-Live! (Gakkou Gurashi) | ota

Rin | Shelter | ota

WELL FANCY SEEING YOU HERE

Morrigan | Dragon Age

ellana lavellan ( dragon age )

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leon | kingdom hearts | ota

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Beth Greene | TWD | f/m

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Barry Allen | The Flash

I know you told me Rii, but.

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