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~Atom's Search Thread~
Current Cravings
Fingernails and Teeth: A Zombie Outbreak RP
Current Cravings
Fingernails and Teeth: A Zombie Outbreak RP
Adrian ran: his feet pounding the concrete, arms pumping at his sides, breaths panicked and verging on hyperventilation. He felt hunted: could feel their sickened irises honing in on him like heat-seeking missiles, all burst capillaries and yellow sclera, pus running from their tear-ducts and pupils blown wide.
It hadn’t been ten hours since Adrian felled his friend, in the dead of night, loud, wet cracks echoing through the abandoned convenience store he and Grayson had huddled down in together. He’d been infected: a large, half-moon chunk of skin wrenched from his forearm, streaked red and septic, turning green and black at the edges. The symptoms set in quickly: a wet cough, hydrophobia, uncontrollable teeth-gnashing, hyper-salivation, self-mutilation. Adrian had shackled his friend to a radiator using a thick length of chain and a heavy padlock, and sat across from him, just out of reach, gripping his blood-smeared baseball bat and shivering. He looked at Grayson. Grayson looked back. “Pl–ease—” he moaned, pus running down his face in thick, yellow rivulets, pupils black holes in his face, eyes yellow and skin jaundiced. He ground his teeth, scratching the infection site with jagged fingernails until it bled and bled, the skin blackened and gangrened. “Just—kill me, Ad—rian.” He knew what he had to do. He couldn’t let his best friend sit there, rotting from the inside out. Tears streaked his face as he white-knuckled the bat, quivering like a leaf: “I love you, brother.”
And he swung. He swung and swung, until Grayson's skull caved in and pink smears of liquified gyri squeezed out of the shattered holes in his skull, dripping down the sides of his unrecognizable face. Adrian sobbed as he murdered Grayson, sobbed until the gurgling stopped, the twitching ceased, until the life had escaped from his friend’s body, laying still-warm and truthfully dead against the concrete—ankle still shackled to the radiator.
Grief-bound, he’d wandered into the street at the break of day with his sanguine-smeared baseball bat dragging behind him, wanting to die alongside his friend. All of his other compatriots were gone: dead, or missing, or having taken off on their own. He was the only one left of his enclave. So what if the Infected got him? If death was good enough for Grayson, it was good enough for him. But when it came down to it, when they stirred, sunbeams falling upon swollen, fluttering eyelids, which eased open as they awoke to the light of day—to sniff the air, and haul their broken bodies up off the ground in twitching, pained, spasming movements—fear stirred in Adrian’s chest. It was like an animal, gnawing at his viscera, sending goosebumps cascading down his arms and shoulders despite the sweltering heat of summer. So he ran, to the tune of a dozen feet shuffling after him, surprisingly nimble in their convulsive, jerking movements, gnashing their broken teeth as drool slid from split lips, splattering the world in viral-loaded spit, pus, and blood as they shambled—
Adrian’s foot caught on a chunk of up-ended concrete, and he sprawled onto the pavement, palms ripping as he dropped the bat, which thudded to the ground and rolled out of reach. A ringing pinged in Adrian’s ears, his hypothalamus resounding in his head like an alarm, and he rolled over, scooting backwards as a rotting pack of Infected neared, eyes narrowed and glassy in the daylight, snarling and snapping their teeth. Wildly, Adrian grabbed for his bat, hands scraped and trembling, as he continued scooting backwards, unable to push himself upright to his feet again—terror ripped through him, raven hair swinging wildly around his face, dark eyes wide and glittering with saline. His bitter life flashed before his eyes, poverty-stricken before the outbreak of the virus, a month spent on the run, to be cornered by undead monsters in the city he’d called home, death at his doorstep at twenty-three, having murdered his best friend the night before.
And now, his end loomed, all fingernails and teeth.
It hadn’t been ten hours since Adrian felled his friend, in the dead of night, loud, wet cracks echoing through the abandoned convenience store he and Grayson had huddled down in together. He’d been infected: a large, half-moon chunk of skin wrenched from his forearm, streaked red and septic, turning green and black at the edges. The symptoms set in quickly: a wet cough, hydrophobia, uncontrollable teeth-gnashing, hyper-salivation, self-mutilation. Adrian had shackled his friend to a radiator using a thick length of chain and a heavy padlock, and sat across from him, just out of reach, gripping his blood-smeared baseball bat and shivering. He looked at Grayson. Grayson looked back. “Pl–ease—” he moaned, pus running down his face in thick, yellow rivulets, pupils black holes in his face, eyes yellow and skin jaundiced. He ground his teeth, scratching the infection site with jagged fingernails until it bled and bled, the skin blackened and gangrened. “Just—kill me, Ad—rian.” He knew what he had to do. He couldn’t let his best friend sit there, rotting from the inside out. Tears streaked his face as he white-knuckled the bat, quivering like a leaf: “I love you, brother.”
And he swung. He swung and swung, until Grayson's skull caved in and pink smears of liquified gyri squeezed out of the shattered holes in his skull, dripping down the sides of his unrecognizable face. Adrian sobbed as he murdered Grayson, sobbed until the gurgling stopped, the twitching ceased, until the life had escaped from his friend’s body, laying still-warm and truthfully dead against the concrete—ankle still shackled to the radiator.
Grief-bound, he’d wandered into the street at the break of day with his sanguine-smeared baseball bat dragging behind him, wanting to die alongside his friend. All of his other compatriots were gone: dead, or missing, or having taken off on their own. He was the only one left of his enclave. So what if the Infected got him? If death was good enough for Grayson, it was good enough for him. But when it came down to it, when they stirred, sunbeams falling upon swollen, fluttering eyelids, which eased open as they awoke to the light of day—to sniff the air, and haul their broken bodies up off the ground in twitching, pained, spasming movements—fear stirred in Adrian’s chest. It was like an animal, gnawing at his viscera, sending goosebumps cascading down his arms and shoulders despite the sweltering heat of summer. So he ran, to the tune of a dozen feet shuffling after him, surprisingly nimble in their convulsive, jerking movements, gnashing their broken teeth as drool slid from split lips, splattering the world in viral-loaded spit, pus, and blood as they shambled—
Adrian’s foot caught on a chunk of up-ended concrete, and he sprawled onto the pavement, palms ripping as he dropped the bat, which thudded to the ground and rolled out of reach. A ringing pinged in Adrian’s ears, his hypothalamus resounding in his head like an alarm, and he rolled over, scooting backwards as a rotting pack of Infected neared, eyes narrowed and glassy in the daylight, snarling and snapping their teeth. Wildly, Adrian grabbed for his bat, hands scraped and trembling, as he continued scooting backwards, unable to push himself upright to his feet again—terror ripped through him, raven hair swinging wildly around his face, dark eyes wide and glittering with saline. His bitter life flashed before his eyes, poverty-stricken before the outbreak of the virus, a month spent on the run, to be cornered by undead monsters in the city he’d called home, death at his doorstep at twenty-three, having murdered his best friend the night before.
And now, his end loomed, all fingernails and teeth.
Hi there, my name's Atom, and I'm a 28-year-old who adores the written word, especially when it comes to character creation, world-building, and exploring gritty topics. In the following tabs you'll find my RP preferences, what I'd like from a partner, my kinks, and a character repository, so feel free to check them out! If you're interested, shoot me a PM! I’m pretty much always open and will rarely turn down a good, thoughtful RP.
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About You I'd like to write with people who are 21+, please. I’m getting older, and prefer to write with individuals who are around my age and have the creative writing experience to show for it. I’m also LGBTQIA+ inclusive, and need my writing partners to be as well! This is a non-negotiable for me. Also, and I hope this is a given, but do not use AI in your writing. Italicized, bolded, underlined. This has happened to me before, and it was deeply disappointing. We're growing together through collaborative experience! Let's do it the right way.
Writing PreferencesI like to consider myself advanced/literate. I am a novella writer at heart; lower word counts tend to leave me bored and uninspired. On average I do around 800 words, but will drop to 600 or elevate to over 2,000. I am looking for exceptional writers to partner with! I love creating atmosphere and ambience—writing should be a sensory experience, and I would love to write with individuals who are looking to create those experiences. As far as POV, I write in third person past tense and prefer my writing partner does the same.
TriggersI have no triggers. I like to explore grittier, darker themes, so the plots I enjoy creating will more than likely contain a number of themes including drug-use, self-harm, death, grief, violence, mental illness, sexuality, etc. (Having a diagnosed mental illness myself, I try my best to approach these topics as respectfully as possible, while at the same time not romanticizing them.) While I like fluff as well, darker themes are my bread and butter.
- I want to write realistic depictions of sex only. Hard No's include: Extreme Torture; Unclean Themes; Anything involving unrealistic proportions, body functions, or anatomy; Incest. *Note: I make an exception for Omegaverse/ABO.
OOC ContentOOC content is imperative! I love plotting and will constantly be bouncing new plot content and inspiration off of my writing partner. Gushing about characters, sending art, music, and moodboards, and getting to know my writing partners is half the fun for me, so expect me to be a chatterbox OOC.
My CharactersI exclusively write male OCs in MxM relationships, and am not into doubling or writing canon fandom characters. I like to focus on one character at a time so I can really get a feel for his voice, mannerisms, and personality. I have around 15 characters for every genre imaginable (a bird boy, a Siren, an elf, a Viking-age dragon slayer, a vampire, a demon, a Martian, a Witcher, bad boys, good boys -- all kinds of boys!) ; see them in the "Characters" tab here in my request thread. However, I'm more than happy to create new characters for new RPs. See my OCs here: Character(s) - Atom's Character Repository
Post TimeI typically post every other day; however, this can be daily to once a week given my availability outside of work and life.
GhostingI am ghost-friendly: I totally understand that sometimes life gets in the way and reaching out to say that can be difficult. Occasionally, I'll fall off the face of the earth as well—I’m not infallible. Life comes before writing.
PM Me!If you're interested in collaborating together, send me a PM with your age, a little bit about yourself (or a link to your request thread), a writing sample (optional but very welcome), and some plots or tropes you're interested in exploring. (If you're unsure what you'd like to write and want to come up with something together, that works as well!)
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General themes I enjoy: addiction, mental illness, survival, crime, darkness and grit, rivalry, angst, drama, violence, trauma, redemption, exploration of the human psyche and sexuality, grief, suicide, moralistic complexity/grayness, intense romance or slow-burn romance (just gimme the romance!!), toxic relationships, enemies to lovers, fluff, new sexual experiences, secretive romance, punishment, liberation, fated mates, forced proximity, soulmates
Genres
Slice of Life***
Low Fantasy***
Romance***
Cyberpunk***
High Fantasy
Sci-Fi
Horror
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Here is the all-important f-list for your viewing pleasure. Below, I'll name a few of the kinks I enjoy the most, though it's by no means an exhaustive list.
F-list - Warning
www.f-list.net
YES, please!
- Realism
- Foreplay
- Rough sex: biting, choking (breath control), hair-pulling, abrasions, scratching, burning
- Bloodplay
- Anal: giving and receiving
- Oral fixation: Receiving and especially giving oral sex, including face-fucking; Smoking while performing; Kissing, licking, biting; Throat penetration; Swallowing
- Drug/substance abuse
- Tantric sex
- Consensual, Dub-Con
- Clothed sex
- Instant hookups
- Sexual frustration
- Masturbation
- Teasing
- Handjobs
- Immobilization
- Pain
- Omegaverse
- Scat, watersports, vomit, etc.
- Unrealistic depictions of sex, body parts, body functions, anatomy, etc.
- Incest
- Furries/Anthros
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See my full list of characters here:Character(s) - Atom's Character Repository
A back-up for Atom's most beloved characters~writerssanctum.com
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