#and i can't move on with my task because my brain has decided i need to do them In Order and nothing else will be Correct

[nerdygirlramblings]

omegaverse 141

a/n part of this once again inspired by @dragonnarrative-writes and their comment on a previous chapter. also, if you have ideas for a title, that'd be great 😂

cw: a/b/o dynamics and typical omegaverse breeding (m! and f! omegas can get pregnant) mentioned

previous

In the interim between your meeting with Captain Price and dinner with the task force you call your family pack. You know your moms and dad will give you their honest opinions, and right now you want that more than anything.

"Hey pretty girl," Dad says when he picks up the video call. "Everything okay? You usually don't call on a weekday unless we've planned it." For a moment you simply take in his smile and the way he's trying to reassure you.

You deflect. "How are you feeling, Dad?" He's carrying another litter, and after losing the last two, you know how important it is to everyone that this one is successful.

"Your moms have pretty much put me on bed rest," he says, rolling his eyes. "But you called us, honey, what's going on?"

You sigh. This is what you called them for. "Well, I wanted your opinion on something," you tell him.

"Just my opinion, or do you want the moms' too?"

You tell him you want everyone's opinion, so he moves through your childhood home to where your moms are, each room he passes drawing forth another bittersweet memory that has you missing him and your pack even more.

He finds your moms in your childhood bedroom, being transformed into a nursery, again. He sits on the rocking chair you remember, the one that floated between the three kids' bedrooms each time there was a new litter. Once your moms are standing behind Dad, you tell everyone about the offer to join Price's task force, and by extension his pack.

The more you tell them, the more your mind snags on how appealing being part of a pack is. But you can't help but be scared of the implications of that desire. Despite how Price laid things out, it's going to be hard enough to prove you're worthy of being on the 141, and if you become part of their pack, you'll never escape the talk about sleeping your way on the task force.

Your parents can tell your mind is somewhere else when you hear Mum insert your name into Bowie's "Space Oddity."

"Sorry, Mum. Wha' was i'?"

"I was just saying this - the task force, I mean - sounds like a great career opportunity. But I can't abide how much more danger this puts you in."

Mama adds, "Sounds like this alpha knew how to broach this. Didn't cock it up. And I agree with Mum, this is much more dangerous than what yer doing now. But sweetie, ya didn't see yerself when ya talked about what this would mean ta ya. And what doors it might open for other omegas like your brother."

You tear up. Both your moms see this for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity it is. You notice no one's mentioned the other half of Price's offer. "Dad?" you prompt, "Wha' da you think?"

Dad watches you for a few minutes, smiling but sad: you can see it in his eyes. "I think you need to say yes, honey. Even if it scares us more, i's the right thing fer you." Your moms don't chime in; they don't need to. But you need want their thoughts on becoming a pack omega, Dad's in particular.

"And the other part?" you ask quietly, looking away.

"Honey, becoming pack omega fer yor moms was one of the hardest and easiest decisions I ever made. I love yer moms," you watch their faces through his declaration, both putting a comforting hand somewhere on him, "and they gave me all of you pups. If Price is as good an alpha as he is a Captain, if 'e's a guiding hand for his pack, then you couldn't have a better mate. In the end, trust your omega."

And that's the crux of the matter isn't it. Your omega has been scratching at your hind brain all afternoon because she wants to take Price up on both offers as soon as possible, but you need to be smart about optics and your career.

You tell your parents you love them and thank them for their honesty, promising to tell them what you decide before the ink dries. You end the call with a few minutes to spare before dinner and take that time to pull your emotions together.

next

series masterlist | main masterlist

[underwhelmingalchemist]

The thing about being auDHD and having a girlfriend, who is also autistic as well as physically disabled, is that sometimes you have tasks that rely on the other doing something, and then when the other can't do it for whatever reason, you end up stuck because you can't clean the bed until you can put the hangers on it away and you can't put the hangers away until she finishes hanging up clothes and she can't hang up her clothes because she's in pain and lying down so you can't put away the hangers and you can't clean the bed and you need to do that next and can't get around those hangers so you're just standing there and staring at them unable to progress with your task until your girlfriend progresses with her task and she physically can't so you mentally can't and you can't be frustrated because she's in pain and you love her and want her to take care of yourself and if you seem frustrated she's going to push herself again and make it worse, so you end up sitting on the floor writing a tumblr post instead

(To be clear, I'm not upset with her, just frustrated with my brain's inflexibility)

[deadsetobsessions]

AU List

Hello! Welcome! This is my attempt at keeping the AU's boiuncing around in my head in order. They should be mostly in chronological order.

Some of them are getting turned into full length fics! The list (and it's open to suggestions) can be found here: Fic List

A couple of things:

Please feel free to write your own fics based on any of these! No need to ask, simply link it so I can also read it <3

If you have any specific scenarios you have an idea for and would like me to write- my asks/prompts are always open! I can't guarantee quality as I do most of my writing at like, 3 AM but I'll try my best!

Please don't send me unsolicited prompts in my messages, as it stresses me out. Not because I don't want to do them, but because the prompts are not in the correct place (if that makes sense?) my brain is being (unironically) neurotic about it. Prompts sent to the asks are okay and will probably be fulfilled.

I don't condone racism, bigotry, homophobia, etc.. I do not welcome it here. I acknowledge that I have biases that I've yet to unlearn. If there's something that makes you feel unwelcome in the things I write, please let me know and I will fix it ASAP.

I write these mostly on little to no sleep (that’s when I get creative I guess?) so good luck.

Update: Apparently you can have too many links on one post (which was news to me) so the links are in the titles lol

Squatter!Danny Phantom Raises Tim

Tim 'self-preservation instinct of a wet paper bag' finds Danny Phantom squatting in his house as an injured vigilante and they immediately adopt each other.

Ghost King and the Justice League

Different scenarios where the Justice League (and extensions) deal with a Ghost King Danny Phantom, who generally just wants to get some sleep and avoid his paperwork like he avoids his problems- actively and indiscriminately.

Alcoholic! Danny Adopts Jason Todd (Fic)

Danny Phantom, a struggling alcoholic, finds his way into Gotham where he adopts a young Jason Todd... after accidentally making a name for himself, again.

Spider in Gotham (Fic)

Peter Parker found himself unceremoniously dumped into Gotham and merged with his younger, formerly dead, alternate self.

Gotham! Danny and His Bats

Different scenarios wherein which Danny Phantom is Gotham's city spirit and the task of wrangling Gotham's vigilante and villainous population is laid at his feet.

Danny in Gotham

Somehow, somewhen, Danny finds himself moving to Gotham. Other than the aesthetics, Danny finds it to be pretty similar to Amity Park's insanity.

Sea Cryptic!Danny Phantom

Danny Phantom cleans beaches in his off time. One day, he has to pick Batman (and his plane that was littered all over the ocean floor) out of the sea.

Danny Gets Yeeted (Yoted?) Into Gotham

Danny Phantom dented the Batmobile and got an adoption, vigilante siblings, and a gang of kids following him for his troubles/

Danielle "Dani/Ellie" Phantom

Danielle Phantom travelled to Gotham. Gotham encounters a wild Danny amidst its tall towers.

Timothy Drake-Centric

When Tim Drake is set on something, very little can stop him, With sub catergories : Reincarnated as Gamer! Timmy Drake (fem Tim)(Fic) and New Tim-line, Who Dis?

Reincarnated as Damian Wayne's Older Sister (Fic)

Based on a nightmare, an OC finds themself reincarnated as Damian Wayne's older sister. She does not have a good time.

Prompts Found

A collection of prompts found and filled. Includes Triplet Tim and Reverse Trope Prompt.

Misc. ficlets and thoughts

My brain vs. whatever errant thoughts and ideas that decided to pop up when I'm trying to sleep.

[monosanimegenericzone]

Hunter x Hunter: chrollo vs hisoka round 2

ok i need to yap about something

dude hisoka is so fucking smart it actually pisses me off.

now i do like the idea of hisoka. he is a great antihero/villain and has had so much thought put behind his psyche that i put him under the microscope and still dont understand him.

but i came here to talk about the mind games he pulled on chrollo after the heavens arena fight. (shout out to @helenisaweirdo for putting chrollo thoughts in my brain)

so we all yell at chrollo for leaving his crew basically defenseless on the ship while he goes and tries to steal an ugly pot. yes its stupid that he's leaving these very vulnerable members by themselves with a killer clown on the loose. yes its stupid that EVEN AFTER deducing that hisoka is already on tier 1 to leave bonolenov on the upper tier alone. and yes its stupid that way way way back before even getting on the ship he left shal and kortopi alone.

but i raise you the idea

what if chrollo never heard hisoka's declaration.

hisoka told machi that he will kill all of the other spiders on sight. and he never said to chrollo's face that his new goal was to wipe out the troupe.

based on those two very careful choices, hisoka has effectively created an out for himself, because chrollo doesn't know that his troupe is the main target.

and this is coming after some major mind fuckery where chrollo perfectly predicted hisoka beat for beat in the heat of combat and STILL somehow lost.

so EVEN IF machi told chrollo what hisoka told her (i dont think she did, we'll get to that later), he would assume that hisoka's main target is still chrollo and that chrollo just has to get to him first.

[explanation below]

this yap gonna be long. im rolling up my sleeves

ok so let's set the scene. chrollo has just beaten the ever loving shit out of the murder clown, blown off two of his limbs and half of his face. he probably stayed long enough to see the corpse, hear the diagnosis and then he dipped

chrollo outside of missions travels alone. during hisoka's explanation of chrollo back in yorknew we hear "when on the battlefield he'll travel with two or more spiders at a time" (loose paraphrasing) "but after every job, he'll disappear." the heavens arena fight wasn't a job. it was just some petty beef. a loose end chrollo had to tie up before moving on to his next big move (black whale 1). so after the fight, he was supposed to "disappear"

so here comes the speculation: we don't know if its actually possible for users to reclaim powers from skill hunter. chrollo was going to return shal's phone but that's all we hear about 'returning' something. shal even says that he won't need the antenna anymore.

that being said. there was no reason for anyone to want to attack shalnark or kortopi. their faces were wiped from the mafia databases and most, if not all, eye witnesses to any of the troupe's crimes have been killed. there is NO ONE that should be targetting shalnark and kortopi at this point in time. (except kurapika but i think chrollo took preventative measures)

and we know based on the hunter exam, people without nen can be extremely skilled in combat. we can reasonably assume that shalnark is one of them (kortopi is kind of an ehhh?? bcs we have seen zero feats from him that didn't involve his hatsu). so they can handle themselves in terms of mortal combat with normal people.

and here comes an observation that i think gets constantly overlooked (i do it too) in favor of viewing the troupe as a "found family". nobunaga himself said it: they operate exactly like the hei-ly. that means they will usually operate solo within their own set of skills. chrollo gives them a task on a job and they decide individually how they want to handle it.

and up to now, they've never failed. so there is this powerful 12-17 year build up of trust in each other's abilities.

so even though i am mad about chrollo leaving his members alone, i also can't be mad because THERE is my hidden phound family moment.

ok going back to the point

hisoka comes back to life and machi is the only one to witness it. we assume that no one else saw hisoka return from the dead (or at least not anyone significant) since he was listed in the official casualties. he imprisons her and tells her to send a message that she refuses to relay.

he could have killed her. but he doesn't. and i think there is a very good reason

he kills shalnark and kortopi and makes sure that they are easy to find. and of course chrollo finds out. we don't know the details of how it happened but i bet it's something along the lines of "chrollo tries to call shal and he doesn't pick up dun dun dunnn"

now here's where it can go two ways.

machi can either tell chrollo hisoka's threat

or she could keep it to herself.

the story works either way, but it works better if she stays quiet. now why would she stay quiet? because she doesn't want to do anything hisoka says and/or is protecting her dignity. regardless there is a very real chance she just said "hisoka lived" and that was enough to get the message across.

at this point chrollo has only so much evidence to go off of: hisoka killed shalnark and kortopi, but he spared machi.

logically, this is because shalnark and kortopi were a) vulnerable and b) part of chrollo's plan that is THE ONLY thing that has made hisoka struggle in his journey so far. in chrollo's mind, hisoka is seeking ways to strip chrollo of his power to weaken him in their due rematch. he spared machi because he was making a point.

therefore. hisoka will only target chrollo's troupe if chrollo attempts to use them for his own personal gain.

of course we, the readers, know this isn't true. hisoka is going to on sight any troupe member.

but, chrollo thinks that this is a much more focused threat.

he thought he knew how hisoka worked. when he was betrayed in yorknew he learned that hisoka never wanted to be part of the troupe and was only using the position as a way to get close to chrollo. he learned about hisoka's powers through studying heavens arena fights and most likely spent a lot of time listening to hisoka's reports on the troupe and the exorcist during greed island.

so, reasonably, he HAS to know hisoka's pre-death mantra: hisoka wants to find ideal fight partners to "love to death." he'll ignore everyone and anyone else until he gets who he wants. so when he dodges death, chrollo realizes that he is such a horn dog for battle that he will literally use every technique in the nen book to win.

ive heard the argument that chrollo put the idea of post mortem nen into hisoka's head which caused him to create the resuscitation move. but i dont think that's true because hisoka has never been pushed to the brink of death like this. he's of course aware of post-mortem nen because we see him get tight when chrollo talks about sun and moon, so this was always going to be his endgame if the situation ever called for it.

minor point

ANYWAY.

MY ENTIRE POINT IS

hisoka has successfully convinced chrollo that chrollo is his primary target.

which is probably why he had the troupe split up in the first place. on jobs he would usually travel with 2 or more troupe members, as stated above, but this time he WILLINGLY goes alone. shizuku and bonolenov followed him of their own free will.

he probably sent them off SO HE CAN DIE ALONE.

SOMEONE GET THIS BOY A HUG AND SOME HEAD PATS S T A T.

fr tho he probably sent them off because he doesn't want them becoming collateral in a brawl with hisoka where he assumes hisoka will predict that he stole their abilities.

chrollo is so bent on this idea that he is changing the entire flow of the troupe, putting both himself and the rest of the troupe at an even greater risk. he would be much safer being with two other troupe members like he would usually do things. BUT NOOOOOOO he is changing his entire flow to throw hisoka off the scent and buy himself time.

like it is crazy. i dont know how much sense this makes but i am. losing my fucking mind.

[lucy90712]

Ooo part two of the request he runs into you with a rock on your finger and your newborn baby and he’s gutted. Gutted that the baby should’ve been his.

part 1 Jude's POV

"I'm sorry I just don't think we are right for each other" I said for what feels like the millionth time in the last few years 

Since seeing y/n again I decided that I needed to move on, I blocked her accounts on Instagram and deleted her contact off my phone so there was no temptation to talk to her or see what she has been doing. I thought that would help me move on but it hasn't I still think about her all the time. I never took down the pictures of us in my house because when I tried to do it the place felt so empty it no longer felt like a home so I put them back up. Everyone has told me that I just need to do it and move on in fact they tell me that I need to go to therapy and talk about my feelings but I don't want to as it's just too painful to talk about. 

Over the last few years I've tried to see other girls and some of them were so lovely but because they weren't y/n I just had no feelings towards them. There was always something that wasn't right some just wanted my fame and money and others just weren't my type. One girl was nearly perfect she was sweet and beautiful but I just couldn't make myself have feelings for her so I ended things. Nothing has ever gone beyond a few dates I kissed a few of the girls but never went any further and they certainly come back to my place as then I'd have it explain the pictures. All I've had is situationships and meaningless one night stands which is all I deserve after the way I treated the only girl I ever truly loved. 

After ending my last situationship I had to go for a walk on my own to clear my head as all of this is starting to get stupid. It has dawned on me that maybe I do need to go to therapy or talk to someone to work through what is stopping me from moving on and letting myself love someone else. My way of living solely in the past isn't healthy and it's starting to really ruin my life as I'm not letting myself enjoy going on dates and finding someone who is right for me. It seems like an impossible task right now to move on but I know I can do it y/n did it so why can't I. Going outside and letting myself think has given me a new lease of life I'm ready to go home and and finally take down the pictures and remove all the other things that remind me of y/n even if the house feels bare for a while I can add things that have no memories tied to them. 

Just as I made it to the park near my house to just sit and think with no one else around I saw someone sat on the bench I usually sit on by the lake. It was a couple with a newborn baby but I couldn't see either of their faces at first. A few seconds later they moved and I nearly fainted when I saw who it was. It was y/n and Carlos with what must be their baby and y/n had a ring on her finger so they must be engaged. My friends told me that she moved out of Madrid a while ago and hasn't really been back but here she is right in front of me. I haven't seen her since the first night I saw her with Carlos and I thought I'd never see her again but there she is on the day I decide that I need to move on. The universe really has awful timing but I guess seeing her living her life with another man is all the more reason to move on. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Your POV

"Did I leave my rings in the bathroom?" I asked Carlos from the bedroom 

"Yeah they are here I'll bring them out" he said 

"Thank you I had to take them off to wash my hands after she was sick and then completely forgot about putting them back on I swear baby brain is going to kill me" I said 

"It's ok you don't need to stress about it if you forget to put your rings on I don't care as long as you and little one are ok nothing else matters" Carlos said handing me back my rings 

"I'm so glad we are here getting to see friends has made me feel so much more human and not like I've just crawled out of the grave" I joked

"See I told you getting away from home and having a different routine would be good you've been at home for over a month now it's good to get back some sense of normality" he said 

"How about we go for a walk in the park before we meet everyone later" I suggested 

"Sounds good I'll get the baby in the stroller" Carlos said

Carlos has been the best since the baby arrived 5 weeks ago of course he still has practice sessions but every second he can he spends helping me and making sure I'm ok as well as the baby. I couldn't ask for a better husband he has been the best partner since we got together but he really stepped it up once we got engaged a year and a half ago. It's crazy to think we have been together for 4 years now and married for nearly 1 especially when we met at such an awful time in my life but Carlos has truly shown me the bright side of life. 

Walking the streets of Madrid and going to the park I used to walk through when I lived here feels a little bit weird I haven't been here since I moved away 3 years ago but this place holds a lot of memories some good some bad but the bad memories are so far in the past they almost don't matter anymore. As Carlos pushed the stroller while holding my hand as I walked next to him I couldn't help but think about the last time I came to this park which is when I broke up with Jude. After ending things I didn't know where to go so I came here and just cried my eyes out which I think is my lowest moment in life but yet here I am just a few years later at my happiest with my perfect little family. 

We walked around for a while before the baby got fussy so we sat down on a bench by the lake so I could feed her before we meet friends for dinner. It was lovely and peaceful as there was hardly anyone else around so we sat there and talked for a while even after the baby had eaten and fallen asleep again. Eventually we had to leave so I had to place the baby back in her stroller as slowly as I could as not to wake her which is a skill I've developed since she was born. As we turned around to leave I saw someone else walking down the path in the park who looked familiar then I realised it was Jude. 

I haven't seen him since that night in the club years ago now and honestly until today I haven't really thought about him it's been so long that I've moved on. Sure what he did was awful and ruined me for a while but things have changed and I don't like to hold a grudge so weirdly it was nice to see him as I have no idea how he's been since I left. 

~~~~~~~~~~

Jude's POV

Before I could turn around and go the other way she had noticed me and waved with a bright smile on her face the smile I used to love seeing everyday. Some weird force of nature was pulling me towards her I know I should just wave back and walk another way but I'm drawn to her something in me needs to be closer to her and talk to her again. It's this part of me that has stopped me from moving on but maybe seeing her one last time and having her tell me how happy she is in her new life will be what I need to hear to realise I have to move on. 

The closer I got the more obvious the ring on her finger became and that's when I could see that she actually had two rings a beautiful engagement ring that was very much her style and a wedding ring that was equally spectacular. She was never someone to love jewellery with big gem stones or anything hugely fancy so the two more understated but still tasteful rings are exactly what I knew she would've wanted. There was a time I looked at engagement rings for her but I never actually bought one and now I regret not just taking the plunge as then this could be us. Being closer to her also allowed me to see her baby in the stroller, the baby was very small so clearly a newborn and dressed in white with pink flowers so likely a girl. I could see a lot of y/n in the baby even though she's very small but the thick black hair stood out as a feature passed down from her now husband Carlos. It got me thinking what our kids would've looked like would they end up with her best features like her lips and her beautiful eyes and would we have boys or girls. A lot of hypotheticals were flowing around my brain. 

"Hi it's been so long how have you been?" She asked bringing me back to reality 

"I've been good life has been keeping me busy but it's been good" I lied as not to make her or myself feel bad 

"Congratulations on everything you've won with the team I hear you've done really well" she said 

"Thanks how have you been I see a lot has changed" I half joked 

"Yeah it's been a crazy few years but it's even crazier now that this little one has arrived she keeps us up at all hours of the day" she laughed 

"Well congrats she's beautiful" I said 

"Not when she's screaming at 3am" Carlos joked 

"It's been great to see you again but we have dinner with friends to get to it's been lovely to catch up I hope life keeps treating you well Jude" she said 

"You too I hope you all stay well" I said letting them leave 

I sat down in the bench the two of them were just sat on as they walked away while trying to tell myself that her walking away was her leaving my life for good and my signal to let go of the past. It still hurts that she's so ok without me while I've been a mess but I don't know what I expected she's always been such an amazing person so someone was always going to see that and want to be with her. I suppose I'm glad that Carlos seems like such a nice guy as I did want the best for her and he seems like the perfect husband so if it can't be me I'm glad it's him who can make her happy everyday. 

It's finally time to move on she has her life and clearly doesn't think about her time with me so it's time for me to do the same. No one will ever be her so I need to stop trying to find someone who is she might've been my first love but that doesn't mean she has to be my last. 

[syrenki]

okay so last night was terribly dark and intense because i felt so low throughout the day that i could hardly move and towards the evening i of course decided to take some to motivate myself to function at all, if only i was at least scrolling my phone or reading, but i was staring at a blank wall and waiting to run out of tears. i could hardly get up from the bed and crawl to the desk to grind it up, even that was an unthinkable task, but i did and what it motivated me to do rather than to Function was to frantically delete all my writing, my social media accounts, all my notes, all the contents of my gallery, documents, playlists, everything, then call my closest friends to tell them how much i love them. i was very out of it, very shivery, i could hardly shut up.

first i called my childhood best friend, she greeted me with 'my love!' i replied to her 'mi vida' because she had a latin music phase recently and for a few seconds we just exchanged terms of endearment like this while i shook curled up with tears streaming down my face, just drinking her voice in. she was very surprised to see me call because i've been telling her i'm too tired to talk for weeks, she's taken to essentially begging me to have a conversation, but it's really been so long. now this is a friendship where we genuinely could not talk for maybe a year and pick up where we left off, i think she's known me longer than i've known me, i took some heart meds in childhood and they messed with my memory, most of it before the age of maybe 13 is practically wiped out, so the way i see it, i kind of just magically appeared in the world one day with no explanation and no past and she already was my best friend, my darling, she already knew me. when i use that tag, 'half my soul, as the poets say', i truly mean it, because she is so deeply written into my life and identity that i don't know who i would be without her. i had her tell me about her day, what flavour of bubble tea she was drinking, it was rooibos, then i pathetically begged her to tell me what me and our friendship mean to her, but the bad parts too, whether she's upset about anything, if there are any grudges she hasn't let go of. she said that she truly thinks of me as a sister, that her brain has really classified me into family territory by now. i can't say i'm surprised, we've known each other since we were six, our families and all our friends know how obvious it is that we are just kind of... tied, i mean, our families almost think of each other as distant relatives of some kind because of us two. but still, i needed so badly to hear it, that she loves me and that i am family to her. i kept going over every memory of ours that i cling to asking if she remembered it too. like all the way back to elementary school, whatever i have left of it. we talked for an hour and later she flooded me with ily messages and about how happy she was to have heard me. it's amazing, how with some people, all that sweetness and affection never boils over, never starts feeling like too much, like maybe it's fake or oppressive somehow, intrusive. we can say this to each other over and over and over again and it's basically just stating facts, as casual as 'what's up' would be.

then i called my closest friend in opera, i don't have a tag for her but i should, she is such, such an angel. rather than ask me those things out right she usually fills the conversation with her ranting about her life, half the time i don't say anything at all, only react, but it doesn't feel unfair to me, i think she rambles so much for the other person, not for herself, this is her way of caring, she won't leave you in silence. she's the one who, when i rarely called her during a breakdown, would skip her next class without telling me just to make sure she's on standby, reachable. she's the one who shows up uninvited with her girlfriend at my house when i tell her things are bad and while i just cry or dissociate silently they keep talking between themselves and take my limbs like a dead china doll to draw with lipstick over my scars and i'm free to be as mute as i need. we talked for half an hour, she told me about the lakehouse she's at right now with her girlfriend, told me we have to meet up as soon as she comes back after the weekend, i didn't have the heart to tell her i'm not sure what'll be by then, so i just kinda smiled through tears and told her yeah.

then my closest philosophy friend, i tag him as home, it's a long story, he called me by himself because i called before and he didn't pick up, he perhaps more than anyone knows about the intensity of my moods #My Moods so i guess it's a little off putting to see an unanswered call from me, we talked and i just asked him about himself but of all my friends he is the most aggressive with his care, so it wasn't easy. i was high and stupid enough to ask him if he could take my violin because i've always hated it and won't play it again and he's dreamed of learning the violin since he was a little kid, and as he can see i'm drawing away from the philosophy friendgroup currently and i don't think i'll see them again, i explained it's only because i need isolation right now, that this is not how it sounds but could he please just take it, of course he didn't believe me, he caught on pretty immediately and interrupted me to say that before i start giving away my prized possessions because 'i feel like we might not meet again' i am to be at his place tomorrow because the friendgroup planned a hangout and they've been asking him about me, where i disappeared. and i know that means they'll leave by 1am and me and him will continue talking and drinking until 7am. a part of me wants to go so badly but i'm ashamed for them to see me, i don't know how i can look them in the eyes and explain why i've been missing for a month or two now, i feel like i have to remain strong and not be swayed into going, but he told me i'm coming like it's already a fact. i told him me not being sure i'll see him again isn't how it sounds it's just that i don't feel like i provide anything of value or anything good at all to his life and i can't bear the shame and guilt of staying in a friendship where i feel like a leech and that no matter what he said nothing would convince me, he replied with 'well, that's a relief that nothing will convince you, otherwise i'd have to sing you hymns of praise right now'. he kept talking about how i have to sign up for this class with him next year because 'oh my GOD syrenki are you seeing the rest of the group, (we tend to dislike the same people on our year, though he more viciously,) you have to save me, i'll be a danger to society if i'm in class with only them'. i know how it'll go if i come to his today, that i'll spend the night there, i always spend the night at his when everybody else leaves, we will sit on his bed in the dark and he will therapeutize me for 3 hours straight, bring me something and try to force me to eat it, then make sure i'm all tucked in before he opens the window to smoke, then get irrationally angry at me over something random, then fall asleep holding my hand. we talked for an hour and a half, he hung up with a very definite 'yeah, see you tomorrow.'

then i didn't have anybody else to talk to and besides it was far too late to call anyway, past midnight, so i took more and continued crying and continued on my quest of erasing all that might be left of me, i even wrote my singing professor a note, then things took a gruesome turn around the sunrise, of course they did, and i hated to see the sun rise, the nights have become far too short, i wish it was february like it still is in my heart. i hated the sun so much i locked myself in the closet with the lights off, but knew i would fall asleep like that if i allowed myself to indulge even one minute more, so i dragged myself to bed and wore two sweaters on top of each other because washing clothes is easier than changing your bedding and i would have to if i got under the covers in the state i was in, i'm sure you understand. today things aren't really that dramatic, the washing machine is buzzing, i'm finally out of drugs and i think the only reason i did so much was the easy access, now i'd have to actively buy them and i won't do that, a bottle of white wine is cooling in the fridge in case i do decide to go out tonight. i know i shouldn't, i don't think i'll be able to keep it together and i've tired him enough. but i neither bled out nor got a heart attack from the uppers yesterday and right now i feel more or less stable yaaaayyyy

[bakedpolygon]

After a day I've decided to reopen my asks here on my art blog. I humbly ask that people only send me asks on-topic for this blog and/or DW drawing requests...

Very long, explanation under the cut...

I will eventually re-open my ask box on main... But please don't send GFM campaigns to me. I'm extremely ill, and normal, daily tasks are a very big struggle for me, and expecting me to also do activism/humanitarian work on top of my extremely rare debilitating migraines (Link goes to N.O.R.D.) has become impossible. I shouldn't have to explain the extent of my condition but I will anyways. I don't wish to close myself up out of malice; I'm just very, very ill... Much more ill than myself, my family, and my care specialists had originally thought.

Emotional distress, hormonal changes, trauma- are all causes of my Hemiplegic Attacks. I lose control of my left arm, my left leg, my left ear loses hearing, my left eye stops communicating with my brain, the left half of my face sags and I can't blink. When I talk, it makes me sound drunk. I can tell you my name, where I'm from, what day it is... but I can't move. I don't know where my limbs are in space. It's terrifying every time it happens, because it feels like the attacks are getting worse. I am afraid that one day it will be a stroke- and I won't come back from it.

I will continue to donate when I can, I will share/reblog campaigns my moots have shared and verified. I still believe in and support the Palestinian people, but I no longer have the physical or mental capacity to sift through that many asks to ensure I'm not being scammed anymore.

I am deeply sorry, I wish I could just will my illness away and keep plugging on, but there is no cure. There is no treatment or medication. There is only management of the symptoms, which includes removing myself from the situations that are causing the attacks.

I don't want pity, I just want to be seen and acknowledged for my disability. I'm sorry for being depressing, talking about this. I fucking hate talking about my condition because it makes people sad, but somebody needs to. It's an extremely rare disease (link) that very few people know about. I don't like the attention, and I don't like being pitied for my reality. I just want to make people smile and giggle or laugh. I just wanna be normal, and functional but its become extremely hard in this past year alone.

I won't talk anymore about this. I will try to go back to my regularly-scheduled silly posts... I just want to make people smile with my art. I hope that my art does make people smile. I like drawing things that make me giggle and I just wanted to spread that joy. I wanna spread my joy, and hopefully leave plenty of that joy behind before I eventually leave my flesh prison behind and go terrorize some celestial beings with my autism on my next adventure.

~Siggy

[script-a-world]

Submitted via Google Form:

Hi, I'm trying to figure out how effective would species with multiple arms can use them at the same time. I mean, say for fighting, it's well known that dual wielding is very much just a trope and while it's been done, research says it's less as effective. So yeah if I have an alien with 6 arms it doesn't mean I should put a weapon in all of them. I get that. But how about other things. Can they like, drive a car with controls that need all 6 hands? Would that perhaps be even more effective since they don't need to take their hands off something to move toward something else. Maybe this species handles the pedals with hands instead of feet. Then two extra hands for changing gear and other things. Maybe it's a different kind of transportation system too that isn't comparable to us. Or maybe it's more dangerous because there's too many moving parts. Or say, a waiter using 6 hands to hold 6 trays, dangerous or more useful? Obviously there are a lot of other aspects but these are just a few examples.

Licorice: It’s not just about the limbs; it’s about the brain. Apparently an octopus has a mini-brain in each of its eight arms, so the arms are able to act independently of each other. It also has a central brain for when the arms need to be coordinated.  An octopus could probably octo-wield eight different weapons if it had to! Natural History Museum: Octopuses Keep Surprising Us

A human who suddenly grew four extra arms might become a clumsy menace, but a creature that’s had six arms since it was born probably wouldn’t have any trouble juggling six trays. That would be its normal. 

Since you’re designing this creature from the ground up, you’re free to decide whether it’s more octopus-like or more human-like when it comes to limb movements - or perhaps neither human nor octopus, but something else altogether. 

Addy: Limbs exist for a reason: to fulfill a purpose. As humans, we do foot stuff with our feet and hand stuff with our hands. A creature with more than four limbs would have a brain set up for using those limbs in an effective manner to fulfill their purpose. Like a centaur would be able to walk and do stuff with its hands at the same time - we generally don't question that.

It's really a matter of focus, in my opinion. Could someone with four arms play two different songs on two pianos at the same time? Probably not, much like how most human people can't play two different songs on two pianos at the same time – we focus on one thing at a time, regardless of how many hands we're using on that task. That's part of the problem with dual-wielding – not only are you messing with the momentum of your swings, you're also splitting your focus between two weapons.

For reference, imagine that humans only came with one arm by default, and someone asked if a two-armed creature would be able to use both limbs effectively. As humans, we know the answer is yes! Sure, we have a side that we favor, but we're able to use both of our arms at the same time. We're just generally limited to doing one thing with those two arms – laundry, driving (steering wheel + changing the volume, etc), knitting, whittling, texting, etc. There are some mindless things that we can do with one hand (holding a pet while talking on the phone), but we don't really multitask. I imagine that the same set of ideas can be extended to whatever creature you've got in your head.

Feral: Have you ever had to turn the radio down while driving in order to read the signs on the highway? It's a pretty common thing, and it has to do with our brain’s ability to switch attention between different sensory inputs. Using both your hands and your feet while attending to one specific task - say shifting gears in manual transmission - is something we are pretty capable of doing. It’s when we’re trying to split our focus to different tasks simultaneously that we begin to have trouble. 

So, let’s break down each specific example-

Driving a car with only hands and no feet involved. My paraplegic great-uncle did this actually. He had a specialty steering column with the gas and brake pedal. He had to use both hands at all times, obviously, but there’s nothing that says this can’t be done as a normal convention even with two hands.

Using all six hands to drive. We are able to effectively drive with between three and four limbs (or two limbs as previously stated) depending on the type of transmission we have, so it just seems superfluous to require six, unless is some kind of scifi tech that travels in different dimensions like a fly car. At that point, the question becomes, how much attention switching is needed? The more attention switching, the more dangerous.

Can a waiter carry more with six hands rather than two? Having worked in food service and knowing people in food service, stacking is actually the great skill of a waiter. I can carry as much food stacked properly in one arm as I can spread out between two and be much safer doing so because I am therefore taking up less space, which means there is less likelihood someone would bump into me.

So, when are more limbs actually better?

Consider monkeys with prehensile tails (essentially a fifth limb) or insects, arachnids, and other anthropods, What can they do better than animals with only four limbs? 

[lucalicatteart]

Poll adventure (paventure? lol) Day 16: read the small story tidbit below the poll for more details, OR just vote based on initial impression

(✦ see past poll results + further information HERE (link) ✦)

Yesterday's poll decided that The Adventurer should offer to help the travelers with their broken wagon.....

~

After much internal deliberation (and some zoning out staring at butterflies), The Adventurer decides it would be best to offer his assistance. Technically, he IS still following his goal of not getting distracted, because theoretically it would make his journey much faster if he were able to catch a ride on a carriage. So really, this is all an ultimate big brain genius strategy for maximizing efficient travel.. Or, at least that sounds like a good enough justification to him.

Gathering up all of his social courage, he approaches one of the travelers fiddling with a broken wheel near the far end of the carriage and meekly asks if there's anything he could do to help.

The man was so focused on his task, he seems initially startled to look up and find someone near him. "OH..! Oh, uhh.. help? With the wagon?", he smiles pleasantly, gesturing towards a few wooden boards that are just out of his reach, "Sure, kid. If you could just hand me th-"

"Apologies, but we actually won't be needing your assistance, stranger." A taller man, surprisingly almost matching the stature of the Adventurer, suddenly slinks out from somewhere behind the carriage, sternly placing himself like a barrier in front of the man working on the wheel. Wheel Guy nervously averts his eyes, making himself smaller, silently resuming his work.

The Adventurer tries his best to maintain composure against the weight of the tall man's bitter gaze, but can't seem to muster much of a response "Aeughh,,, uh… b-but, h- Bu--HHHh,,?.."

"Look, disregard whatever my father told you, he's old, never has any clue what he's talking about. It'd be best for you to simply move along." ('Father'? They don't look alike at all, and seem to be nearly the same age..)

"W-well.. he.. he didn't really tell me anything, I me-hhH,,.. I mean, I literally just got here, s-so...."

"Good. Even more reason to be on your way."

Placing a gloved hand firmly on his shoulder, the tall man begins to motion the Adventurer away from the wagon, but a strange noise interrupts, echoing from inside. Perhaps some sort of animal sound? Or a person faintly yelling about something? Or… both?

"WH-wHggg… whAT was t-that???!!" The Adventurer immediately stops in place, pausing to listen as the tall man keeps trying to push him ahead.

"I didn't hear anything, stranger."

"No, t-there.. was dEFinitely, UHH, a-"

"Likely something in the forest."

"Wh--aah... d.. do you think it was an animal?"

The tall man continues a dramatic struggle to 'subtly' drag him further down the road, whilst the Adventurer mindlessly digs in his heels, too distracted to even notice he's being so strongly prompted to leave.

"Many animals do, indeed, exist within forests. This should not be suprising."

"...It's just.. ..eughh… s… so weird…"

"I assure you, it is not."

"I-it really sounded like.. like it came f-from insid-"

"Yes, from inside the forest. Now, please, if you would.."

The noise interrupts again. It's definitely someone, or something, in some sort of distress.. And definitely from inside of the cart.

"wHoAAGH, aa!!! T-tHat's NOT from the f-forest, that-"

The tall man fully just shoves him now, sending the Adventurer toppling across the dirt, clumsily rolling and landing just past the other side of the carriage. A mother and young child who seem to be part of the traveling group simply stare down at him with empty blank gazes, wholly unconcerned about helping him up.

As the Adventurer fumbles back to his feet (still confused as to why he was even pushed in the first place), the tall man looms by the carriage, diligently watching to ensure that he leaves.

"Travel safe, stranger."

Despite his initial obliviousness, the Adventurer begins to piece the situation together as he stares back at the man, now fully convinced something suspicious might be going on...

…What should he do next??

~

~

~

Additional Information

the adventurer's current main quest: follow his map to reach the abandoned castle ruins and see the rare animal specialist about the mysterious egg he has

[therhythmafterthesummer]

I have pack logistics questions so pardon me if this is nerdy but I’m a certified lore whore. Also it’s long…just like Channie’s..nose😊

1) for camping/pack runs, if there a general meal planned established then do select members go shopping? Does cooking responsibility switch each time or does it stay pretty consistent?Or is it kinda all for yourself bring your own food(even if everyone ends up sharing?

2) does the entire pack take off ever every single full moon? Do some of them get special accommodations if it happens during the week? Do any of the boys get a bit moody if their partner can’t join them for midweek runs?

3) does the pack as a consensus on the best season to run on or is it individual? If so what?

4) do packs in this universe have anything to physically show/establish them as being apart of a certain pack? Easily I think like a ring or necklace, little more permanent would be like a tattoo.

5) do you think the pack would struggle once/if the moved into individual homes? Like I can’t see them living across town from each other, but I can imagine living that close for that long and then not smelling or sensing all your mates might be jarring to a wolf.

5) wolves have a LOT of pride. Is Chan’s response stronger than anyone else’s (besides a mate’s) when one of his packmates are disrespected or hurt? Think like if he heard someone calling Min a “halfbreed/mutt” or picking/threatening jisung or Felix because they are male omegas. How quick is his wolf to violence in those cases?

6) Do they jokingly call the extra rooms where they can ride out ruts and heats “horny jail”

7) Do the pack parents keep maybe like a rough schedule (or specific if the individual is comfortable sharing it)of cycles for everyone that way they could predict when tempers might be higher?

8) besides others they are romantically involved with, do the wolves think about themselves as packmates in a “this is my friend” way or a “this is my sibling way”? For our humans, since they don’t have a wolf in their brain do they truly feel part of the pack? Like when they really soak in the moment with all of them do they think “I love my pack” or do they think “I love my friends/siblings”?

-🥝( I probably should have split this into multiple asks)

never apologise for this!! i love these questions skjdfhsjkdf

they try to plan what they're gonna eat on their days there. so, yes. they'll make a list of items and a few of the pack members will go to the grocery store to get the items (it's usually jeongin + autumn + changbin, but they might rotate every once in a while if the three of them aren't up for it). sometimes they prepare the meals and take them already ready just to re-heat, other times they just take the groceries and cook there. if they cook beforehand, tasks are split between households. if they cook during the trip, it's usually felix cooking, but others help frequently because he refuses to cook alone for that many people (not like other pack members would let him anyway kfjhskjf).

they always go together. i think Chris might be able to count the times they didn't with one hand (runs are very VERY important for werewolves, so missing one can get them a bit... cranky). for those that work in a supernatural environment (like Jisung), they probably just need to submit some paperwork at the beginning f the year with the nights they need and they always get them approved since it's a necessity. for those working in human spaces, they either call in sick or try to get days off. those with partners, they sulk if their partner can't come for one reason or another (Chris is the king of sulking whenever he has to spend a full moon without pretty nowadays. hell, even if it's just going out for a run and it's not a full moon, he'll sulk lol).

it's all personal preference. if i had to decide fave seasons for each ones: winter = chris, seungmin | autumn: changbin, ginger, jisung | summer = felix, jeongin | spring = minho, hyunjin (as usual, this is subject to change, it's just what i think at this present time lol).

some packs do (i like to think Moss' does. i just haven't decided what they have yet). Chris' doesn't, mostly because none of them has felt the need to have anything.

they would. i think it'll feel unnatural to not be close to each other, so moving too far away is just not an option. it's in their nature to live together and ensure everyone's well fed and taken care of (whatever this last bit entitles...). for Chris' pack, if they move out of their current den and into houses, i'm sure they'll only do it if they find adjacent houses. like, they literally need to be right next to each other/in front of each other or they won't move. it'd probably feel a bit weird at first since they're not in the same space, but i'm sure they'll get used to it eventually. but yeah, the closer together the houses are, the better.

it honestly depends. i feel like Chris particularly is heavily influenced by the moon cycle. depending on the phase of the moon he can either react very violently or very logically. he always tries to go the logical route because, you know, he's their Leader and he has to act all collected. but... yeah, i'm sure he's gotten in a few fights in his life over things like these lol. it can get pretty ugly if the full moon's close.

i love this actually. so, yes. yes they do.

of course. not only to be aware of mood changes, but also to make sure they're more or less available in case they're needed to help with anything (like getting them supplies and whatnot).

i think it goes beyond "this is my friend" and "this is my sibling". it's a type of bond that it's not easily explained, it's just... they're just pack members. and yes, humans that fully integrate into the pack feel this way, too. i suppose there could be humans that don't integrate completely, so they'd be more on the "these are my friends for life" kinda mindset, but it's not the case for Chris' pack. pretty and kitten are fully integrated into the dynamic.

hope these answers make sense, i'm super sleepy ksjdfhskjdf

[iamvegorott]

The Veggie household has been fighting the plague and I got body aches, so I decided to take my pain and turn it into some fluffy thoughts

The couples massaging/rubbing sore parts of the other

Madmare:

Mad gets nauseous/stomach aches pretty often due to his sensitivity and awareness of those around him and can very often just ignore it since they're usually weak but once in a while they're bad and he's curled up on the bed, trying to will the ache away. Mare crawls into the bed, kissing the top of Mad's head while Mad is insisting he's fine and just needs a moment. Mare continues his kisses, trailing them down to Mad's ear and whispering to let him help take care of him before placing a hand on Mad's stomach and rubbing deep circles. Mad tries to protest still but gives in very quickly and sighs in relief, uncurling a little and leaning back more against Mare, who is softly smiling at seeing Mad relaxing already

Mare's fairly good at ensuring he doesn't hurt himself or cause too much soreness with his tasks, but he does get a lot of hand cramps since he gets lost when making music and does the same thing over and over and over again and hands can only take so much even with stretching beforehand. Mare knows it's time to take a break when he can't move his fingers through the cramping and he plops on the couch, almost pouting about having to stop. Mad can pick up the 'Mare pout' feeling in the air and comes to the room and sits on the couch as well. He sits himself so he's leaning back against Mare's chest and he takes Mare's hand, massaging it with his thumbs, and works on the fingers as well with the occasional kiss to Mare's palm. Mare can't help but watch with the biggest heart-eyes

Phantomhero:

Phantom's a lot like his brother in trying to ensure he doesn't hurt himself or get sore but yearly allergies can't be prevented. He coughs so much that his chest aches and he hates it. Phantom whines and pouts in bed since he knows the best remedy for those allergies is some medicine and extra rest but gets bored so easily. Jackie eventually gets away from the others and slips into the bed, under Phantom, and wraps one arm around his waist in a hug as the other rubs a hand in circles on Phantom's chest. Phantom's whines and pouts die off easily when Jackie's there and he embraces the affection

Jackie's, well...he's Jackie and is often getting himself into situations that hurt him, but thankfully he heals pretty quickly. He's used to common body aches and soreness and brushes it aside like it's nothing. The one thing he can't handle is headaches. Jackie hates headaches since he can't think through them and it makes his eyes feel weird and cloudy. He still tries to do his usual thing despite that but Phantom can tell when Jackie's off because his brain is pounding. Phantom will coax Jackie to lie down, using his stomach and thighs as a pillow, and then rub his temples with his thumbs. He watches as Jackie becomes a puddle almost instantly and closes his eyes, looking like he'd be purring if he could and Phantom adores when Jackie relaxes like this

Trickshot:

Marvin is a very prideful and spiteful man. While, for the most part, he's great at taking care of himself, sometimes that pride and spite kicks in and he ends up walking around in heels that are too high for too long and his feet hurt. He could use magic to heal them faster but that would mean admitting defeat and that Chase was right about needing to change his shoes before they left. Chase lets Marvin pout on the couch for a bit and then joins him. Lifting his legs and setting them down on his lap. Chase teases as he starts rubbing at Marvin's feet, getting a little laugh out of Marvin trying to defend his actions but is too lost in how good the foot rub felt

Chase can also be just as prideful and spiteful as Marvin when it comes to his strength. He gets very determined at times that he can lift certain objects on his own and doesn't need help. It works out some of the time but other times he ends up hurting his back. He'll try to brush it off but eventually ends up facedown on the bed and unable to move. Marvin will make a salve to help the muscles relax and get up in the bed, sitting on Chase's hips as he slowly works the salve in with his hands, massaging Chase's back at the same time. He can't help but giggle at Chase's groans and curses of appreciation

Danti:

Anti is a climber. He's a climber and he tucks himself away into little nooks in wait to spook someone. He'll have a day where he'll do that for hours and hours and hours and his legs are sore messes the next day. Even the glitch can't heal fast enough to not be pouting about it in the morning. Dark lets Anti pout for a little, kissing his cheek and neck before sitting up and massaging one of Anti's legs. He teases Anti about putting himself into this situation while working on the other leg. Anti says something along the lines of 'I'd snark at you but I'm too busy enjoying the massage'

Dark's body is...interesting. There are plenty of days where he feels fine, but others where everything just aches. Usually, he just ignores the pain and continues his work, and Anti's learned how to catch when Dark's having one of those aching days. Anti knows Dark's pride won't let him admit to the pain so he plays it off as him wanting to flirt or is in a touchy mood. He does up behind Dark while he's hunched over his desk and he'll start massaging his shoulders. He'll chatter away and pretend to not notice how Dark melts.

Dapperstache:

JJ uses his arms and hands a lot with work, communicating, and overall house care, so there are days when his arms are sore and weak and he just wants to let them flop like wet noodles and even then that's not enough. He'll sit himself down in Wilford's lap and tell him about his aches and Wilford's reaction is to immediately start massaging JJ's upper arms. He grins at how JJ's confused for a moment before silently giggling and getting more comfortable against Wilford as he works

Wilford does a lot. Just a lot of everything. Not usually work-related things, but a lot of things nonetheless. His entire being and presence is...complicated so him being sore or aching is beyond a rarity. Getting hurt is common but sore is a different story. So once in a blue moon, Wilford's back reminds him of how long he's been a chaotic man and he's stuck on the bed for the day. JJ starts the care with some kisses and tea before kneeling beside Wilford and working his hands along his back. Often having to put his whole body weight into the massage to get in deep enough for some of the knots. Wilford's very vocal about his approval and JJ has to pause every now and again to giggle

[danieyells]

Have you ever tried to do something on your computer and it says something like "You need administrator permission to perform this action" except you're the only user on the computer and it still says you can't?

That's how it feels for me to try and do things most of the time with adhd. Because it's something I want to do or even need to do, and am fully capable of doing unrestricted. . .but there's something preventing me from doing so until my brain decides 'okay, now is fine'.

With computers the thing is usually 'you can't move/delete this file because it's open in another program' but for some reason it doesn't want to give you that specific error message and it just says you don't have permission. Usually if you close whatever you have open it'll let you go just fine. But it's not that easy with my brain. Usually my brain has some indiscernible reason that I'm helpless to deal with. It stops me from replying to messages, doing things that are fun, cleaning up, taking care of myself and my surroundings. If i could figure out what's preventing me from 'giving myself permission' to perform a task I'm sure it'd be a lot easier.

But I can't.

So I don't. I just keep waiting until the 'administrator' gives me permission.

[maxfaiden]

Regarding Curseforge

"Alternative Download." This creator's post from the Summer of 2023 (before we were fully aware of Overwolf's allegiance), only had the DOWNLOAD link which landed you at a similar destination; more recent appearances of "DOWNLOAD" on their posts go to Patreon). I would much prefer people be upfront about their greed and disregard for humanity than try to obfuscate it.

For anyone not aware, download URLs that begin with the above/following URL are Curseforge direct download links.

https://edge.forgecdn.net/

I wanted to add this to the conversation since I haven't seen it mentioned/reiterated where the Curseforge boycott was concerned.

That said, I am pretty observant, but recently, I had two incidents that made me realize I needed to be more diligent when it comes to engaging with CC. I have a side blog, half of which serves as a cc finds blog, but it's more of a read later because I only spare enough of a glance at the cc to determine whether I'm interested or not before I add a cursory tag or two and reblog it.

The first incident was when I was about to reblog a post and realized that one of the download options read Curseforge. Why in that moment did I notice? Can't say for sure. How many others have I blindly reblogged since the beginning of November '23 when I was made aware of Overwolf's stance? Not sure about that either, but both are at least partially due to DL links often being under a cut and me not wanting to spend more time on a cursory task than my brain currently has the wherewithal for. Also, since the beginning of the EA partnership, Curseforge was quite tedious for me (I'd rather go vault diving), so I generally ignored it.

Executive function deficits aside, I still feel a sense of responsibility and will hold myself accountable for my lack of due diligence. I've promised myself that I'll begin taking the same care with CC reblogs that I do with topical reblogs on my primary account.

While moving ahead with deliberation, the second incident occurred and that was how I encountered the post at the top.

Since both posts were courtesy of aggregate blogs, I decided to check out the FAQ/About/Bios of those blogs as well as a few other finds blogs to see if any of them updated their info with a statement about Curseforge links. None had. So I decided to submit the following ask to them:

Can you commit to no longer reblogging posts that include a link to Curseforge?

Even if they include an alternate link, the creator is still in a position to benefit from a company whose parent entity supports the genocide of Palestinians.

You can find more context here: https://armoricaroyalty.tumblr.com/post/739972677769510912/why-is-the-sims-community-boycotting-curseforge

Initially I asked them to "consider", but I realized that for this, consideration was not enough, so I changed it to "commit".

I'm not trying to get into it with anyone--I prefer to leave the drama on the page--but I felt that asking was the least I could do. I'm not naming any names until a reasonable amount of time has passed. You'll either read an announcement from the finds blog or see an answer to my ask on your dash or I'll take their silence as complicity and post that X-amount of time has passed since I approached X-blog and they still have not responded.

My ultimate goal here is just to share what I've encountered as well as be a reminder to anyone who may have similar scrolling and cc habits and would prefer not to support genocide, to try be a little more deliberate in their actions: Go under the cut, hover over links before clicking to confirm where they lead, and maybe ask their local finds blogs if they will commit. Every little bit counts.

[tinycatharsis]

my babies, oh my god. (I feel like I have to clarify that my reviews only make sense if u also read the para im replying to)

The first thing you notice when you wake is the warmth of the sun on your face, its golden light filtering through the gaps in the trees. You blink against the brightness, disoriented for a moment as you sit up abruptly. That’s when you realise your head had been resting on Jungwon’s lap.

move, mc. ME NEXT

“You didn’t sleep,” you say, your voice hoarse from disuse. It’s not a question—it’s an observation, one that feels heavier than it should.

that's what my friends tell me everyday.

He shrugs, leaning back slightly against the railing. “You looked like you needed it more.”

he's so considerate even tho they're still strangers :((( technically (?) I believe kindness still exists because people like jw exists type of day fr

I just realized jay is always muttering smth under his breath after reading this for the second time. dfshjsak he's giving

with that exact caption too. (jw being the orange cat to his black one, otherwise it doesn't work)

jay not being a morning person fits his black cat agenda so welllllllll, me too best friend. ignore how much my tone has shifted on jay since pt.1... on everybody's life but jay's, I am a changed man.

rereading has helped me really narrow in on how much jw deeply cares for his friends. his sense of responsibility is def v admirable for someone so young.

There’s a rhythm to them, an unspoken flow in the way they interact, as though every task and gesture has already been decided without a single word being spoken. It’s not chaos, not the haphazard scramble you’re used to seeing in desperate survivors. It’s something else. Something deliberate.

something they choose to do!!! actively choose to do. like that would give me mad hope too. I get mc.

the fact that they all know each other so well that they each fall into their own roles and tasks seamlessly even without any exchange of verbal words, or orders given. to be loved is to be seen keeps popping up in my mind when I think of s&s!enha. #maythistypeoflovelocatemevvvvvvvsoon #manifestingaswespeak

the imposter syndrome mc must be feeling also feels like crazy work. like there's just this group of friends who love each other more than anything and would take v far measures to protect and keep each other safe and she's just abruptly, unintentionally, fatefully thrusted into this dynamic. beyond just her personal considerations, there's just a huge gap she can't cross over. at least, for now.

Because staying with people means watching them die. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually.

I recently finished a cdrama, and when the mentor died he said smth like, life is simply going from having nothing to acquiring something and having nothing again. I PROBABLY COULDVE PHRASED THIS BETTER but my mind cannot today.

another chinese web novel I finished in the past called my youth began with him had a paragraph like that too, 'Do people live in the world just to see their losses? They were born with nothing and then as they grew up, they began to possess things. Then, they watch their families, friends, and lovers leave one by one. This was the cruelest thing god has created for humans, right? From this perspective, life was just a suffering.' the translation probably not 100% accurate.. but

oh my god, mc :( my shayla. you really ate down w that line tho, kissing ur brain rn. (consensually, ofc)

You’ve seen it before—how quickly things can go wrong. How one misstep, one unlucky moment, can unravel everything. Staying means becoming a part of something, and a part of you wonders if you’ve got anything left to give. After all, what’s the point of building something that will inevitably collapse?

omg, that's the argument I used to give my mom when I was 6 and she told me to make my bed and Im like Im gonna sleep in here at night anyway, what's the point of making it? SJKFDHA I would nawt want a kid, ever. because I was the prime example of ones I dont want LMFAO.

going back to the series, the mc has very valid concerns but lemme insert my two cents as I always do *cracks fingers*

if I could talk to her, I would tell her that being alone doesn’t make one immune to loss. It just means you’ll face it without anyone by your side. groups fall apart, yes, but so do individuals. at least in a group, you have a chance to fight for something more than just existence.

on that note, let me insert this quote here.

"Being alone is hard, to be sure, but it’s also deceptively easy — it requires nothing of us." from this work by rayne. I love her essays. I think this one fits the dilemma mc faces in s&s so well and I highly highly highly recommend you to read if you have some time one of these days! I would also love to hear ur thoughts but I can wait 🙋🏻‍♀️ okay now back to yapping-

Sunoo leans forward, his grin widening. “Alright, listen up. Starting with our fearless leader over here—Jungwon.” He gestures dramatically, and Jungwon rolls his eyes, though there’s a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “He’s our strategist, the one who keeps us alive by figuring out where to go, when to move, and how to deal with… well, everything.”

me in a group project onggg

The man sits at the edge of camp, methodically sharpening a blade. “Next, we’ve got Heeseung, our scout and tracker. He’s got the best eyes out of all of us. If there’s something—or someone—out there, he’ll find it first.”

can't even lie, this fits hee so well. maybe I'm reaching (I'm def reaching) but implicitly, it also feels like he's someone wiser and older and warns the group when danger lurks ahead outside of just like yk spotting danger explicitly. HELP ME THIS DOESNT MAKE SENSE.. I apologize.

“And that grump over there?” Sunoo gestures toward Jay, who’s seated a short distance away, carefully cleaning his pistol with a precision that borders on obsessive. “Jay’s our long-range shooter. Best shot we’ve got. He’d never admit it, but he’s saved all our asses more times than we can count.”

need a grumpy jay fic from u next from all the emotional damage in this. ALSO JAY BLACK CAT AGENDA AHHHH *screams and explodes into sparkly glitter* is it obvious that I have a favorite-

“Jake,” Sunoo continues, pointing toward the man currently inspecting a med kit, “is our medic. If you get hurt, he’s the one you want patching you up. And don’t worry, he actually knows what he’s doing, and not just throwing plasters on everything hoping for the best.”

#needthat Jake, come stitch me up bb. getting into a fight on purpose so he can patch me up next (I want jake so bad, it's like idk it's the devils whispering to me) him being a medic also makes sense. IM SEEING XO ERA JAKE specifically the part where he was biting the bread in the mv. if I was crazy, I would've searched up the mv and include the time stamps but I'm not that crazy (yet.)

Jake smirks faintly, his hands moving deftly as he tosses a roll of bandages into the kit. “I was in pre-med before all this,” he says, his tone light but tinged with a quiet seriousness. “It’s not anything impressive, but it’s enough to keep us alive. Just don’t make me work too hard, alright?”

I'm going pre-med too. WE'RE LITERALLY LOCKED IN. jungwon, don't look.

“And then there’s Sunghoon,” Sunoo says, his tone growing slightly more dramatic, “our weapons expert and close-range fighter. If it comes down to it, he’s the one who’ll keep the rest of us breathing.”

i don't know abt that cuz I be losing my breath everytime I look at him. HE'S SO ADSJKFGHKJFE DJKFHASFKJ SDFAJKHFIJ yeah, I have nothing appropriate to say, so let's move on. (also thinking of that gun scene in their concept trailer for xo with this sunghoon. my god. he's so glorious. humans are visuals creatures after all. and I am only human—)

“And then there’s me,” Sunoo adds, placing a hand on his chest with mock seriousness. “Diplomat. Negotiator. The one who talks us out of—or into—trouble, depending on the situation.”

#twinningwsunoo Im very diplomatic too! I won an award for it at a conference sdfshakj this role fits him so well, YOU 👏 HAD 👏 A 👏 VISION 👏 and I love to see it.

Sunoo waves him off with an exaggerated sigh before turning to the cheekiest of the group. “And last but not least, Ni-ki, our little magic hands. If it’s broken, he can fix it. If it’s running, he can make it run faster.”

AWWWW, you're my baby and I love you sm. why does everything ni-ki do just reminds me that he's a baby and the maknae idk. even when it's not portrayed that way, he's also the only member in enha who's younger than me LMAO so pls let me be. going back to the para, let that magic workkkkkkk

The pieces start to fall into place, the dynamic clicking in a way that almost makes sense. You find yourself both impressed and uneasy, the thought of fitting into something so cohesive feeling alien to you.

yeah? WHAT I WAS SAYINNNN EARLIER.

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. You’ve been on your own for so long, your only role has been survival. You’ve never had to think about what you could bring to the table—only about what you could take to stay alive. And in that sense, staying would be a terrible idea.

"what do you bring to the ta—" B, I am the table. and the chairs.

Then again, these people clearly know what they’re doing. It doesn't hurt to be around people that will keep you alive.

incredibly real and valid. let's think about survival first bbg

omfg the jw leader parts again :( he do so much. he needs to do that much. to keep the grp alive anyway. they all play their parts, but being a leader is a different kind of weight to carry around.

It’s a dangerous gamble. For even the strongest leaders have their breaking point. And if Jungwon ever falters, you wonder what will happen to the rest of them.

why did this lowkey have a sinister tone to it? STOP. STOP ITTT RN (keep going)

They don’t hunt. They’re surviving off the food they stole when they escaped The Future. It’s a startling revelation, one that lingers in the back of your mind every time you watch them ration out supplies. Even though you know Heeseung is perfectly capable of hunting, they don’t take the risk.

I get why. but at the same time, is that really smart? because even that abundant pile of food will run out eventually, surely they realize.

Ni-ki is harder to figure out. He’s a wild card—sometimes he goes out when needed, but otherwise, he stays behind to keep watch. These past few days, though, Jay has been staying in camp too, and it’s clear he’s still wary of you. He doesn’t trust you, not fully. He doesn’t sleep when you’re on watch and makes sure you’re never alone with any of the others for too long.

me when I'm paranoid omg

Most of them don’t like talking about their lives before the world fell apart. And you understand. What’s the point in reminiscing about a time that no longer exists? It only makes the loss worse, reminding you of everything you could have had. Well, most of them feel that way—except for Sunoo. He talks endlessly, filling the silences around camp with anecdotes and bits of his past.

a yapper, just like me. we would've been best friends. no but those characters are also so so crucial. people who brighten others day, lighten the mood, whatever it takes to distract from all the cruel things happening around them. sunoo, you will always be my icon.

That’s right. You’re just another mouth for them to feed. Another person whose survival they’re now responsible for.

hey, that was like a splash of cold water on a saturday morning when Im curled up in bed.

You hadn’t thought about it before, not really. But now, it hits you like a freight train. Every bite you take, every resource you use—it’s something they can’t spare, something that might have kept one of them alive just a little longer.

adjshfkusdh I love ur writing.

Staying with them, trusting them, letting them trust you—it’s not just about your own safety anymore. It’s about what your presence costs them. And that’s not something you can ignore.

whatever I said above, double it and give it to the next person.

I love mc's character too. I probably said this in pt.1, if I didn't.. what the fuck was I even doing. but I love that she's very self aware, sharp, sensible, keen, perceptive. she's hardened her exterior for survival but she's not entirely heartless and realizes what her presence costs the grp. she wants to leave, but also not without repaying them first with something. anything. I love that for her. that's my girl fr

“I mean, we do have one more mouth to feed,” Jay mutters, his tone biting as he glances at you. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, leaning back slightly, his arms crossed. It’s not the first jab he’s made, but it stings more than you’d like to admit.

real and valid. I'm so sorry for causing you distress, my king. (omfg my switch up is crazy)

omg, also the scene where mc stands up to jw and REFUSES his order/decision to leave to hunt with them. this probably the first time anyone ever challenged him. and that's good, we need people that ask questions, inputs their own thoughts, two brains work better than one or whatever my eng teachers used to tell me.

the way she reasons with him and stands her ground omg. IM SO PROUD OF HER.

“I don’t understand. Why does Jungwon care so much about you?”

JAYWON *screams and dies* typing from the afterlife.. I will finish this review and even death can't stop me

“Nice? Jungwon?” Jay scoffs, his tone sharp. “He’s the last person after me among the seven of us to be nice, especially to strangers. You think this is just him being friendly?”

oh my god. it doesn't come across that way at allllll what. should I blush????????

“Well, it’s her fault we’re even out here in the first place. Blame her.” says Jay with a scoff.

jay, please. give me one chance to make it up to youuuuu PLEASEEEEEE IM A STAR (the way im not one bit mad is insane, you really outdid urself writing jay in this. I can't. I can't make this up)

omfg ofc, he's muttering smth under his breath again. DSFAJKGK SORRY I HAD TO. don't be shy jay, come whisper it in my ears. it'll be our little secret—

He glances over at you, his expression softening slightly. “You’re doing alright,” he says quietly, his tone low enough that Jay won’t hear. “Not bad for someone new to the group.”

HEE, my other king. always making us feel included. ily. I mean it.

jay's story too tho :( that's rough. I love moments that explain why characters are the way they are and I also equally love it when authors dont explain and char is just messed up because it's smth innate dsajkh

ohhh that scene with them witnessing the zombies whispering/speaking to each other in the forest sent chills down my spine. the horror lover in me is clawing at the edges of my enclosure to be let out.

I forgot about the scary/sinister in a trad way part of this story because of how angsty it is but god dayum, foaming at the mouth rn.

Without a second to spare, everyone falls into a rhythm. The weight of what you’ve encountered hangs over the camp like a storm cloud. Nobody says anything, but the silence tells you everything. They’re scared. Jungwon included.

man. I'm scared too! lemme hide with you guys, leave me some space

“I haven’t seen anyone like that,” you say carefully, forcing your voice to remain steady. “And I wouldn’t know if I had.”

BAEEE, why'd u say the second part sdfjkahkffhjkf

For a moment, the man doesn’t respond, his gaze lingering on you as though trying to read between your words. Then he takes a step back, his grin never wavering. “Well, I won’t take up any more of your time,” he says lightly, though there’s a faint edge to his voice. “Nice camp you’ve got here. Hope it stays that way.”

oh my god. don't pmo rnnnn (my men hating agenda always come out when enha's not in the equation. it's not exactly an agenda. i do hate m*n.)

I giggle everytime you write 'let out a breath u don't realize ur holding.' THIS IS NOT HATE DFASJHF it just brings back memories jkdash /pos

“I went after him.”

my man. GET HIS ASS.

“I couldn’t!” Jay’s voice cracks, the raw emotion spilling over. “I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. I had to… I had to make him pay.”

this is giving 02s lucifer. the grippppp that song had on me

also that love how u wrote these characters with flaws. jay's split second action having direct consequences. them having to abandon everything the built behind the safe walls of the camp. :( fuck the zombies, they all need a hug and some warm peppermint tea.

“Something is seriously wrong,” Jake mutters, his voice barely audible as he scratches the back of his neck. His gaze flits between you and the others, confusion etched deeply into his features. It’s as though he’s trying to piece together a puzzle where the pieces don’t quite fit. “If that place was overrun by the dead, and The Future was still active there, then…”

yeah, smth is seriously wrong because why aren't u in my bed rn (me when im in a how can I make this pervy competition and my opponent is just a mirror)

I said this before and I'll say it again. your action scenes??? mwah *chef's kiss* your writing do get better with the chapters. you're doing an incredible job of writing present moments/descriptions.

You’re about to climb into the van when something catches your eye—a lone figure standing just at the edge of the clearing.

sorry, that was me trying to be cool and mysterious. I needed to see the boys up close. bringing my binoculars next time.

But it’s not moving. Your heart pounds as your gaze locks onto its face. The peeling skin and hollow cheeks are all too familiar, but its eyes—its eyes are clear. Not the usual milky, lifeless void you’ve come to expect from the undead, but sharp and disturbingly human. For a moment, you could swear it’s looking directly at you.

that's creepy as fuck. yeah, yeah, I like it. I love it. (in jw's voice)

Jungwon’s jaw tightens, his gaze fixed ahead as if he’s already trying to piece together an answer. “We’ll deal with it later,” he mutters. But you can see the unease in his expression, the weight of what you both just witnessed settling over him like a dark cloud.

"there were no signs." me when im trying to ignore a large, looming tall presence in my room because im trying to sleep peacefully at night.

But you? You don’t sleep. And neither does Jungwon.

me and my equally sleep deprived best friend staying up at night.

It’s the kind of tone he never lets the group hear.

EVERYONE SHUT UP. they're having a moment.

It’s strange, this quiet moment of closeness. You’ve spent so long keeping your distance from others, building walls to protect yourself. But with Jungwon, it feels different. It feels… safe.

TITLE MENTIONED???

and aw, I love how this chapter started and ended. truly, a lot of emotions rippled thru me but warmth is perhaps the most prominent.

SAFE & SOUND — part 2

Navigating one year post-apocalypse, when the dead began to walk and the living proved to be no better, you decide that trust is a luxury you can no longer afford. But after a run-in with a group of seven peculiar survivors, you learn that there are bigger problems than just the undead roaming the streets. You also start to wonder if there’s more to survival than simply staying alive.

word count: 13k

MASTERLIST

Warmth.

The first thing you notice when you wake is the warmth of the sun on your face, its golden light filtering through the gaps in the trees. You blink against the brightness, disoriented for a moment as you sit up abruptly. That’s when you realise your head had been resting on Jungwon’s lap.

He’s still there, sitting exactly where you left him, his blade resting against the wooden railing. His posture is stiff, and there are faint shadows under his eyes, but his gaze remains focused on the treeline, sharp and unwavering.

“You didn’t sleep,” you say, your voice hoarse from disuse. It’s not a question—it’s an observation, one that feels heavier than it should.

He glances at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Didn’t want to risk it,” he says simply, as though staying awake all night was no big deal.

Your brow furrows, guilt creeping into your chest. “I thought we were switching shifts.”

He shrugs, leaning back slightly against the railing. “You looked like you needed it more.”

You stare at him, the weight of his words sinking in. He barely knows you, yet he gave up his rest so you could have yours. The realisation sits uncomfortably, making your chest tighten.

“Thanks,” you say quietly, the word feeling inadequate. “But you didn’t have to—”

“I know,” he interrupts, his tone light but firm. “It’s fine, I didn’t think i would’ve been able to sleep anyway.”

The camp below begins to stir, the others waking slowly as the day takes hold. You glance down, watching as Sunoo stretches lazily, Sunghoon stokes the embers of the dying fire, and Jay mutters something under his breath, clearly not a morning person.

“You should get down there,” Jungwon says, his voice pulling your attention back to him. “Grab something to eat before they take it all.”

“What about you?” you ask, still uneasy with the thought of him staying awake all night.

“I’ll eat later,” he says, waving off your concern as he finally stands, stretching his arms above his head. “Someone has to keep an eye on things while everyone else sleeps in.”

For a moment, you consider arguing, but the look in his eyes tells you it’s not worth it. Jungwon’s sense of responsibility runs deeper than you realised, and while it frustrates you, it’s also hard not to respect it.

“Alright,” you say finally, climbing down the ladder. But as you reach the ground and glance back up at him, the faint guilt lingers.

You sit by the dying fire, its faint warmth barely reaching your skin as the morning unfolds around you. Despite the ache in your body and the exhaustion clawing at your mind, you can’t stop your eyes from darting across the camp, taking in the subtle movements of the group. 

There’s a rhythm to them, an unspoken flow in the way they interact, as though every task and gesture has already been decided without a single word being spoken. It’s not chaos, not the haphazard scramble you’re used to seeing in desperate survivors. It’s something else. Something deliberate.

The longer you watch, the clearer it becomes that they aren’t just a random assortment of people who happened to survive together. The dynamics of this group, odd as they may be, seem to work, each person carrying out a role that seems as vital as breathing. 

You hate to admit it, but it intrigues you. There’s a part of you—a part you thought you buried—that wants to understand how they make it work. Against your better judgment, you can feel your curiosity growing, clawing at you for answers.

One thing, however, is abundantly clear: Jungwon is the leader.

You spot him high up on the watchtower, his silhouette outlined against the soft glow of the rising sun. His arms are crossed, his posture relaxed but alert as he surveys the camp below. He doesn’t raise his voice, doesn’t bark orders, yet the others seem to fall into line as if guided by an invisible tether.

“Hey,” Sunoo’s voice cuts through your thoughts, jolting you slightly. He’s seated across from you, fiddling with a dented tin cup and flashing one of his easy, disarming smiles. “Jungwon figured that if you’re going to be staying, it’d be better to let you in on how things work around here.”

Staying. You’re not entirely sure about that.

The idea of staying with a group, of being around people again, stirs something uneasy inside you. It’s not a fear of them—it’s a fear of what comes with them. The horror of your past still clings to you like a second skin, a constant reminder of what it means to care, to hope, and then to lose. You’re not sure you’re ready to open yourself up to that again.

Because staying with people means watching them die. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but eventually.

Not to say this group will meet the same fate—but in this world, there’s no guarantee of survival, no matter how capable or united they seem. Death isn’t a possibility; it’s an inevitability. The only question is when.

You’ve seen it before—how quickly things can go wrong. How one misstep, one unlucky moment, can unravel everything. Staying means becoming a part of something, and a part of you wonders if you’ve got anything left to give. After all, what’s the point of building something that will inevitably collapse?

“It’ll help you understand why we do what we do,” comes another voice from behind. You start slightly, not having noticed Jungwon’s approach. He settles on the log beside you, his presence calm yet commanding, as if he’s somehow taken control of the conversation without trying.

Sunoo leans forward, his grin widening. “Alright, listen up. Starting with our fearless leader over here—Jungwon.” He gestures dramatically, and Jungwon rolls his eyes, though there’s a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “He’s our strategist, the one who keeps us alive by figuring out where to go, when to move, and how to deal with… well, everything.”

Jungwon exhales through his nose, shaking his head slightly. “Someone has to keep you lot in line,” he says dryly, though there’s no malice in his tone.

“Whatever you say, captain,” Sunoo replies, offering a mock salute before turning his attention to Heeseung. 

The man sits at the edge of camp, methodically sharpening a blade. “Next, we’ve got Heeseung, our scout and tracker. He’s got the best eyes out of all of us. If there’s something—or someone—out there, he’ll find it first.”

“And that grump over there?” Sunoo gestures toward Jay, who’s seated a short distance away, carefully cleaning his pistol with a precision that borders on obsessive. “Jay’s our long-range shooter. Best shot we’ve got. He’d never admit it, but he’s saved all our asses more times than we can count.”

“Jake,” Sunoo continues, pointing toward the man currently inspecting a med kit, “is our medic. If you get hurt, he’s the one you want patching you up. And don’t worry, he actually knows what he’s doing, and not just throwing plasters on everything hoping for the best.”

Jake smirks faintly, his hands moving deftly as he tosses a roll of bandages into the kit. “I was in pre-med before all this,” he says, his tone light but tinged with a quiet seriousness. “It’s not anything impressive, but it’s enough to keep us alive. Just don’t make me work too hard, alright?”

“And then there’s Sunghoon,” Sunoo says, his tone growing slightly more dramatic, “our weapons expert and close-range fighter. If it comes down to it, he’s the one who’ll keep the rest of us breathing.”

Sunghoon glances up from where he’s tinkering with a makeshift blade. “And by ‘close-range fighter,’ he means I’m the one who has to deal with the messy stuff,” he says dryly, though there’s a faint glimmer of pride in his eyes.

“And then there’s me,” Sunoo adds, placing a hand on his chest with mock seriousness. “Diplomat. Negotiator. The one who talks us out of—or into—trouble, depending on the situation.”

“Mostly into trouble,” Jake interjects, his voice carrying a faint edge of amusement.

Sunoo waves him off with an exaggerated sigh before turning to the cheekiest of the group. “And last but not least, Ni-ki, our little magic hands. If it’s broken, he can fix it. If it’s running, he can make it run faster.”

Ni-ki, who’s crouched by the van inspecting its undercarriage, glances up briefly. “Yeah, and if you want it to work, don’t touch it,” he says, his tone sharp but not entirely unfriendly.

The pieces start to fall into place, the dynamic clicking in a way that almost makes sense. You find yourself both impressed and uneasy, the thought of fitting into something so cohesive feeling alien to you.

Sunoo tilts his head, his gaze meeting yours. “And you? What about you?”

The question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you don’t know how to respond. You’ve been on your own for so long, your only role has been survival. You’ve never had to think about what you could bring to the table—only about what you could take to stay alive. And in that sense, staying would be a terrible idea.

Then again, these people clearly know what they’re doing. It doesn't hurt to be around people that will keep you alive.

“I guess… I’m figuring that out,” you say finally, your voice quieter now.

Sunoo studies you for a moment before nodding, his grin softening. “Stick around long enough, and we’ll figure it out too.”

About three days have passed in their camp, and you’re beginning to entertain the possibility of staying with them. They work well together, almost seamlessly. It’s not something you just discovered, but the more you witness their dynamics, the more in awe you are. 

You can’t help but wonder: if the community building you were part of had been like this, would it have fallen the way it did? Maybe with them, you finally have a real shot at staying alive.

Most of them seem to have opened up to the idea of you sticking around—at least, you think they have. Truthfully, the only people who’ve expressed any contentment with your presence are Sunoo and Jake. But that’s likely because they’re the ones you’ve spent the most time with. They’re always in camp, managing supplies and rations, keeping the place running while the others head out.

And, of course, because you’re not allowed to leave camp. Orders from Jungwon—though you suspect Jay had a hand in that decision too. You figure it’s less about keeping you safe and more about making sure you don’t fuck up their rhythm.

Speaking of Jungwon, you’ve noticed something about the way the group operates: his words hold a lot of weight here. And not just because he’s the leader.

Even after spending the last few nights on watch with him, sharing quiet conversations under the stars while the others slept, you still haven’t quite figured it out. There’s an ease to the way he interacts with the group, a quiet authority that doesn’t need to be forced.

Every decision, every movement, seems to flow through him first. But it’s not in a micromanaging or authoritarian way. It’s just… natural. The others look to him, wait for him to weigh in, like his judgment is the glue holding them together. He doesn’t shy away from it either, even when it’s clear the burden weighs heavily on him. 

Whatever this group’s flaws, it’s clear Jungwon holds them together, even at the expense of himself. And maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to understand why.

He’s not the leader because he demands it—but because the others trust him to be. 

It works for them, clearly. They function like a well-oiled machine, each person playing their role with practiced efficiency. But if you’re being honest, you find it a little risky.

To have everyone’s lives hinge on one person’s decisions? To place that much responsibility on a single set of shoulders?

It’s a dangerous gamble. For even the strongest leaders have their breaking point. And if Jungwon ever falters, you wonder what will happen to the rest of them.

You’ve also learned that they only leave the camp unattended during high-stakes expeditions, like the one back in the city. Other than that, it’s almost always Jungwon, Heeseung, Sunghoon, or Jay who take turns heading out. And even then, they only leave when it’s absolutely necessary.

Not to hunt. Not to scavenge.

They don’t hunt. They’re surviving off the food they stole when they escaped The Future.

It’s a startling revelation, one that lingers in the back of your mind every time you watch them ration out supplies. Even though you know Heeseung is perfectly capable of hunting, they don’t take the risk.

No, when they go out, it’s not for food or water. It’s to cover their tracks and secure the perimeter. To ensure that no trace of their last expedition leads anyone back to this camp, which you suspect is also another reason why they don’t let you leave. 

Ni-ki is harder to figure out. He’s a wild card—sometimes he goes out when needed, but otherwise, he stays behind to keep watch. These past few days, though, Jay has been staying in camp too, and it’s clear he’s still wary of you. He doesn’t trust you, not fully. He doesn’t sleep when you’re on watch and makes sure you’re never alone with any of the others for too long.

Aside from Jungwon, Jake, and Sunoo, you haven’t exchanged many words with the rest. Even when everyone’s in camp, the conversations are minimal.

Most of them don’t like talking about their lives before the world fell apart. And you understand. What’s the point in reminiscing about a time that no longer exists? It only makes the loss worse, reminding you of everything you could have had.

Well, most of them feel that way—except for Sunoo.

He talks endlessly, filling the silences around camp with anecdotes and bits of his past. You’ve learned from helping him manage supplies that he was in law school before everything fell apart. It makes sense, given how much he talks. He’s always negotiating, always diffusing tension with his words.

When he asked you what you did before the world ended, you kept it vague, telling him you were in school too.

And yet, despite the distance, they’ve started treating you like one of their own. It’s been a long time since you’ve gone days without starving, and for the first time in forever, you almost feel like you’ve found a safe haven.

But before you even have the chance to fully sit with the idea of staying, your attention is drawn to Jungwon, who’s making his way over to Heeseung. His movements are careful, deliberate, and the moment they begin talking, it’s clear the conversation isn’t meant for everyone’s ears. Still, their words are loud enough to reach you from where you’re sitting by the logs.

“Heeseung, how’s our food situation?” Jungwon asks, his expression serious, his brows furrowed in thought.

Heeseung glances around briefly, his sharp eyes scanning the camp before leaning in closer to Jungwon. “We’ve depleted almost everything we took from The Future. With our current resources, it’ll last us about a week.” He pauses, then adds in a lower voice, “Well, less now that we have…”

Heeseung’s gaze shifts toward you, and you realise a second too late that you’ve been staring. Your eyes meet his, and he stiffens, clearly caught off guard by your attention. His words trail off, but the meaning behind them hangs in the air, unspoken yet deafeningly clear.

A wave of guilt washes over you, sharp and overwhelming.

That’s right. You’re just another mouth for them to feed. Another person whose survival they’re now responsible for.

You hadn’t thought about it before, not really. But now, it hits you like a freight train. Every bite you take, every resource you use—it’s something they can’t spare, something that might have kept one of them alive just a little longer.

And that triggers something in you.

You lower your gaze, suddenly unable to hold Heeseung’s. The weight of your presence in their camp feels heavier than ever, and the resolve you thought you’d solidified earlier begins to shift.

Staying with them, trusting them, letting them trust you—it’s not just about your own safety anymore. It’s about what your presence costs them. And that’s not something you can ignore.

So, you make up your mind there and then.

The next opportunity you get, you’ll leave. Leave and never turn back.

They don’t entirely trust you, but they don’t distrust you enough to keep you at arm’s length, either. They let you into their camp, shared their food, their fire. They even explained how they work together, the roles they each play. Yet, you remain an outsider, lingering on the edges of their tight-knit circle. And you know, deep down, that’s exactly where you belong.

So when the opportunity arises—though you’re not sure when you’ll have a moment alone long enough to slip away unnoticed—you’ll leave. You won’t even take anything with you. Just slip into the shadows and disappear before they even realise you’re gone. No attachments, no debts, no goodbyes. That’s how it has to be.

But not yet. Not until you’ve made sure they’re safe. 

Despite your resolve, you can’t bring yourself to abandon them while the unknown danger you and Jungwon discussed the night you met them still lingers. Not after everything they’ve done, not after the way they fought to protect each other, to protect you. That’s right, you still owe them for saving your life and feeding you these past few days.

So you’ll wait. Watch for the right moment. Repay your debts. And when it comes—when the threat has passed, and the dust has settled—you’ll leave. Without hesitation. Without looking back.

But that selfless thought is, in itself, an act of caring—you just haven’t realised it yet.

Jungwon and Heeseung return from their quiet discussion, their expressions unreadable. Without needing to say a word, the group instinctively gathers around the fire that has long gone out. The way they move, as if summoned by some unspoken signal, is fascinating. No commands are given, no prompting required.

Just the sheer presence of Jungwon.

“We’ll have to send a team out to hunt,” Jungwon begins, his voice calm but firm as his sharp gaze sweeps across the group. “Latest before noon. If we leave then, we can make it back before dusk.”

Jake, sitting with his legs crossed, looks up sharply. “Hunt? Are we out of food already?” Concern threads through his voice, his usual calm demeanour faltering just slightly.

Jungwon doesn’t answer immediately, his focus flickering toward Heeseung, who nods in silent confirmation. “We’re low,” Jungwon says finally.

“I mean, we do have one more mouth to feed,” Jay mutters, his tone biting as he glances at you. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, leaning back slightly, his arms crossed. It’s not the first jab he’s made, but it stings more than you’d like to admit.

You force yourself to keep your expression neutral, meeting his gaze evenly. If anything, you’re oddly relieved by his hostility. At least someone here is keeping their guard up around you. Someone who doesn’t want to trust you, who wants you gone. You can’t explain why, but you hope it stays that way. It feels safer, somehow, for at least one person to see you as an outsider—a liability.

It makes leaving easier to justify.

“Jay,” Jungwon’s voice cuts through the moment, sharp but not angry. It’s enough to make Jay’s expression shift slightly, though he doesn’t apologise.

The silence that follow is heavy, Jungwon’s words settling over the group like a cold wind. The reality of their situation is clear—if they don’t find food soon, things are going to get a lot harder. And none of them, not even Jay, have to ask for you to know you should be the one to do it.

“I’ll go,” you say, your voice firm despite the nervous knot forming in your stomach. All eyes snap to you, the weight of their gazes almost crushing.

Jungwon raises an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “You?”

You nod, holding his gaze. “You need every fighter you can spare here, and I can handle myself. I’d hate to sit around and do nothing all day, like a parasite. Let me help.”

“At least she’s self-aware,” Jay mutters under his breath, earning a sharp glare from Sunoo.

The air grows thick with tension, the subtle coo of morning birds the only sound as the group processes your words. Heeseung is the first to break the silence, pushing himself to his feet. “I’ll go too,” he says, his tone matter-of-fact. “If she’s going out there, someone has to track. I’m not sending anyone out blind.”

Jay lets out a sharp, humourless laugh, shaking his head as he rises to his feet. “Yeah, no. If Heeseung’s going, I’m going. Someone has to make sure this doesn’t blow up in our faces.” His words are pointed, his glare fixed on you. It’s clear he doesn’t trust you, and he’s not about to risk Heeseung’s safety over it.

You bite back a retort, understanding his scepticism even if it stings. Heeseung glances at him but doesn’t argue, his focus already shifting to what the group will need for the trip.

“I’ll go too,” Jungwon says suddenly, standing up from the log. His tone is steady, but you can see the tension in his shoulders, the calculation in his eyes. “We can’t take chances with this.”

“No, you can’t go,” you say quickly, before he can cement the decision. The firmness in your voice catches him off guard, his brow furrowing as he turns to you. The rest of the group falls silent, thrown by your sudden declaration. Usually, whatever Jungwon says goes, so for you to challenge him is clearly a first.

The awkwardness is suffocating, the weight of everyone’s stares pressing down on you. You take a small step closer to Jungwon, lowering your voice so only he can hear. 

“They need you here,” you whisper, your voice steady but insistent. “If you leave, that’s four people left at camp—two of whom isn’t much of a fighter.”

Jungwon’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing slightly. “They can handle themselves. It’s not the first time I’m leaving anyway,” he replies, his voice calm but firm.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “But it’s clear they’re rattled by the food shortage. They’re anxious, Jungwon, whether they’re saying it out loud or not.” You glance briefly at the others, noting the subtle tension in their postures, the way their gazes flit to Jungwon as if waiting for reassurance.

“You’re their leader,” you continue, your voice soft. “You’re the reason they stay focused, the reason they trust they’ll make it through the next day. If something happens to you out there...” You let the sentence hang, the weight of the implication settling heavy between you both.

Jungwon’s expression falters for a fraction of a second, the barest flicker of uncertainty crossing his face before he schools it back into something unreadable. He doesn’t respond immediately, and you think he’s going to argue. But then his gaze softens slightly, his eyes narrowing in thought.

“And you think you can handle this?” he whispers, his voice softer now but no less serious.

“I do,” you reply firmly. “Heeseung knows what he’s doing, and Jay clearly won’t let anything happen to… well, him. I’ve hunted before, Jungwon. Plus, I know you stayed up on watch again last night. You need to stay here.”

Jungwon’s gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he exhales sharply, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Alright,” he says, though there’s a reluctance in his voice. “But don’t take unnecessary risks. If it looks bad, you come back. Understood?” 

The way he says it, as if he knows you’re considering running, makes something twist in your chest. Not yet, though. Not yet.

“Understood,” you say, standing up and brushing the dirt off your palms.

Heeseung secures his knife into its sheath with a nod, and Jay rolls his eyes but grabs his gear without protest. The three of you prepare to head out, the camp watching in silence as you gather your supplies.

Just as you’re about to step beyond the barricade, you spot Jungwon whispering something to Jay. Whatever he says makes Jay scowl, shaking his head in visible protest. But Jungwon’s expression hardens, his voice firm as he cuts the argument short. Jay sighs, clearly annoyed, but ultimately relents. His sharp eyes shift back to you, now carrying an edge of suspicion sharper than before.

Jungwon’s gaze lingers on you as you leave, his expression unreadable. The weight of his trust—or maybe it’s his doubt—feels heavier than any weapon you’ve carried. But you push the thought aside.

The three of you move quietly through the forest, the morning sunlight filtering through the trees in patches of gold. Heeseung takes the lead, while Jay trails slightly behind, his sharp eyes constantly scanning the surroundings. You stay somewhere in between, the knife in your hand an extension of the resolve you’re trying to summon.

The silence between you is heavy, punctuated only by the occasional rustle of leaves or the faint chirping of distant birds. You don’t speak, and neither do they, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence. It’s one born of necessity, of focus. Every sound, every shift in the forest, could mean danger—or an opportunity.

But, of course, the concentration doesn’t last. Jay, who you’re beginning to suspect thrives on friction, breaks the quiet with a pointed comment. 

“I don’t understand. Why does Jungwon care so much about you?”

Heeseung doesn’t turn around, but you can practically feel the exasperation radiating off him. “Seriously, Jay? You’re talking about this now?” His voice is calm, but there’s an edge of disbelief in his tone.

“What?” Jay retorts, his tone almost defensive. “Are you not curious at all?  They stayed on watch together a few times, and now Jungwon’s ready to risk everything to keep her safe.”

“I’m literally right here,” you snap, the annoyance in your voice cutting through the tense air. “If you’ve got questions about me, maybe try asking me directly instead of talking like I’m not standing a few feet away.”

Jay glances at you briefly, his expression unimpressed. “Fine. Why is Jungwon sticking his neck out for you?”

You blink, caught off guard by the bluntness of his question. “I don’t think he’s sticking his neck out for me,” you say, your tone defensive as your grip tightens around your knife. “What are you even talking about?”

Jay lets out a humourless laugh, shaking his head as if you’ve just proven his point. “Then why did he ask me to keep an eye on you? Make sure you come back alive?” he says, his voice low but edged with irritation.

Your steps falter for just a moment, your breath catching in your throat. “He… told you that?” you ask, your voice quieter now, the frustration giving way to something more uncertain.

Jay nods, his sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “Yeah. Said you’ll be a great addition to the group or something. Like we don’t already have enough to deal with.”

You’re not sure how to answer—hell, you’re not even sure why Jungwon has been so willing to give you a chance. Before you can formulate a response, Heeseung cuts in.

“Maybe because Jungwon’s a nice person,” Heeseung says dryly, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. “Not like a certain somebody who can’t seem to shut up.”

“Nice? Jungwon?” Jay scoffs, his tone sharp. “He’s the last person after me among the seven of us to be nice, especially to strangers. You think this is just him being friendly?”

You glance at Heeseung, hoping for some clarification, but he keeps his focus on the trail ahead. Jay’s words settle uneasily in your chest. If Jungwon isn’t the kind of person to extend trust easily, then what’s his angle? Why is he giving you the benefit of the doubt when others—like Jay—clearly think you don’t deserve it?

The weight of Jungwon’s trust feels heavier now, more significant.

“Well, I didn’t ask for him to do that. I don’t need anyone keeping an eye on me.” you say finally, your voice a little steadier, though the uncertainty still lingers.

Jay snorts, his expression sceptical. “Yeah, well, tell that to Jungwon. He’s not exactly the type to give orders lightly.”

The tension between you hangs heavy in the air, but before either of you can say more, Heeseung glances over his shoulder, his tone calm but firm. “Enough. We’re here to hunt, not to argue. If we don’t bring back any game, it’ll blame it all on you.”

“Well, it’s her fault we’re even out here in the first place. Blame her.” says Jay with a scoff.

Heeseung’s gaze narrows. “I said that’s enough, Jay.”

Jay rolls his eyes but doesn’t push further. Instead, he mutters something under his breath and turns his focus back to the forest ahead, the tension in his shoulders still evident.

You let out a slow, steadying breath, the heat of the argument leaving you rattled. But it’s not just the argument that lingers in your mind—it’s Jay’s words. Jungwon had specifically told him to keep an eye on you? To make sure you came back alive?

Why…?

Before the silence stretches too long, Heeseung motions for a stop, crouching low and studying a patch of disturbed earth. His fingers graze the ground lightly, his sharp eyes narrowing. You watch him carefully, impressed by the ease with which he reads the signs the forest leaves behind.

“Squirrels,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. He points to a set of tracks leading deeper into the woods. “A few of them. Probably moving together.”

Jay nods curtly, his grip tightening on the bow he’s been carrying. “We’ll have to be quick. If we miss, they’ll scatter.”

Heeseung glances at you, a faint flicker of consideration in his expression. “You’ve hunted before, right?”

You nod. “A few times. Mostly small game, but I know how to stay quiet.”

“Good,” he says simply, standing and motioning for you to follow. “Let’s move.”

As the three of you make your way deeper into the woods, the tension eases slightly, the rhythm of the hunt taking over. Heeseung’s calm, methodical approach is a stark contrast to Jay’s sharp vigilance, but they work well together—an unspoken understanding guiding their every move.

At one point, Heeseung stops again, holding up a hand to signal a pause. He crouches beside a tree, studying a new set of tracks. Jay moves ahead slightly, keeping watch, and for the first time, it’s just you and Heeseung.

He glances over at you, his expression softening slightly. “You’re doing alright,” he says quietly, his tone low enough that Jay won’t hear. “Not bad for someone new to the group.”

You nod, unsure how to respond. His calm demeanour is a welcome contrast to Jay’s constant scepticism, but you can still feel the awkward tension hanging in the air.

Heeseung hesitates, the silence stretching between you as he seems to weigh his words carefully. His hand flexes around the hilt of his knife, a nervous habit you’ve noticed before. Finally, he sighs, his voice dropping to a quieter, almost reluctant tone.

“Jay’s not… always like this with everyone,” he says, his gaze fixed on the ground, as though avoiding eye contact will make it easier to get the words out. “The way he’s acting with you, I mean. There’s a reason he’s so hard to trust new people.”

You furrow your brow, confusion flickering across your face. Of course, it’s not unusual for survivors to be cautious—vigilant even—around strangers. In a world like this, where danger lurks at every corner, you either kill or be killed. Trust extended to the wrong person could easily land a knife to your back.

But the way Heeseung describes Jay’s distrust, it sounds like something more. Something personal.

“Why?” you ask cautiously, your voice low. You don’t want to push too hard, but you can’t hold back your curiosity.

Heeseung sighs, running a hand through his hair. “After our escape from The Future, we took in another survivor. A guy, around our age. He was half-starved, injured. Begged us to help him. Said he’d been on his own for months.”

You can already feel where the story is headed, but you don’t interrupt.

“Jay didn’t trust him from the start,” Heeseung admits. “Said something felt off. But the rest of us… we thought he was being paranoid. We were tired of losing people. We wanted to believe the guy was just another victim of this world.”

His voice grows heavier, the memory clearly weighing on him. “At first, it seemed fine. He kept to himself but didn’t cause any trouble.” Heeseung’s jaw clenches, his knuckles whitening as he grips his knife tighter. “But turns out, Jay was right.”

Your stomach knots, dread curling in your chest. “What happened?”

“He waited until we were vulnerable,” Heeseung says bitterly. “Waited until we were distracted. Then, he grabbed one of our friends, put a knife to her throat, and demanded our supplies.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“We gave him what he wanted,” Heeseung says bitterly, his jaw tightening. “But he didn’t let her go. He slit her throat anyway, right in front of us. And then he ran.”

The air around you feels colder, the quiet of the forest suddenly oppressive. You glance at Heeseung, his calm facade cracking just slightly as he stares at the tracks before him.

“That’s why Jay is the way he is,” Heeseung continues, his voice low but steady. “He was closest to her. Blames himself for what happened. Ever since then, he doesn’t trust easily. And he doesn’t forgive.” 

Your mind pictures Jay back at the camp, how his posture is always tense and hunched as though he’s carrying the weight of that memory with him every second of every day.

“I didn’t know,” you murmur.

“No,” Heeseung says softly. “You wouldn’t have. But now you do.” He looks at you again, his expression softer, though the pain in his eyes remains. “So, if he’s hard on you… it’s not personal. It’s his way of protecting us. His way of making sure it never happens again.”

You nod slowly, the weight of the story settling over you. “I get it,” you say softly, though the words feel inadequate. “I’d probably feel the same.”

Heeseung glances at you, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe. But trust me, if you stick around long enough, Jay will see what the rest of us do. That you’re not like him. That you’re not a threat.” 

You don’t respond immediately, his words settling into your mind like seeds in freshly tilled soil. The weight of their past lingers with you, a reminder of just how fragile trust can be in a world like this—not that you needed the reminder. 

The two of you rise silently, falling back into the rhythm of the hunt as you make your way to rejoin Jay, who has moved further ahead on his own. You spot him crouched behind a dense thicket of ivy, his form still but alert.

Heeseung is about to call out when Jay abruptly places a finger to his lips, his sharp eyes locking onto yours as he motions for you both to get low.

You and Heeseung exchange a quick glance before crouching, carefully shuffling toward Jay. Every step feels heavier than the last, the rustle of fallen leaves beneath your boots deafening in the tense quiet. The forest, once filled with the gentle hum of wildlife, now feels suffocatingly still.

“What’s wrong?” Heeseung whispers, his voice barely audible as the three of you huddle closer.

Jay doesn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on something beyond the ivy. Then you hear it—the familiar shuffling of feet, slow and uneven. The guttural moans and growls you’ve come to dread. But this time, it’s not just a few. The sound is overwhelming, a dissonant symphony of the undead. Dozens, maybe more.

“There’s something very wrong,” Jay whispers, his voice taut with unease. “Look at the way they’re moving.”

Your stomach churns as you part a few strands of ivy, revealing a massive clearing surrounded by towering pines. In the centre of it, a cluster of zombies moves in a strange, unnatural rhythm. They’re walking in a perfect circle, their shuffling steps eerily synchronised like ants trapped in a death ring.

“What the fuck?” you mutter, the words slipping out before you can stop them. The sight is wrong—so wrong it makes your skin crawl.

And then you hear it.

Voices. 

Your head jerks toward Jay, whose wide eyes mirror your own shock. “Did you hear that?” you mouth, barely breathing.

The sound comes again, low but unmistakable. “Round... them... up…”

It’s deliberate, controlled. Words spoken in the same hollow, rasping tone as the undead.

“They’re… talking?” Heeseung whispers, his disbelief matching your own.

You strain your ears, heart pounding as the voices continue.

“Saw them… around here…”

“Find them…”

Your blood runs cold. They’re not just words—they’re instructions. Coherent, deliberate instructions.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your hand instinctively grips your knife tighter. You glance at Jay, and the flicker of fear in his eyes confirms what you’re dreading. These aren’t just zombies.

There are people—or not people—you're not entirely sure. But something is walking among the dead.

Heeseung’s jaw tightens, his eyes narrowing as he shifts his weight slightly, readying himself for whatever comes next. “What do we do?” he whispers, his voice steady but laced with urgency.

Jay’s gaze remains fixed on the clearing, his expression grim. “We move. Quietly. Back the way we came. Now.”

You don’t argue, your body already taut with tension as you begin to inch backward. The sound of human voices mingling with the moans of the undead burns in your ears, the weight of the revelation settling heavily on your chest. Whoever these people are, whatever they’re doing, one thing is clear: they’re more dangerous than the undead. And they’re looking for something—or someone.

The trek back to camp is a blur of tension and urgency. None of you speak, your steps light and calculated, careful not to make a sound that might draw attention. The eerie chorus of moans and human voices fades behind you, but the weight of what you’ve just witnessed hangs heavy in the air. Your chest tightens with every step, your mind racing with the implications.

By the time you see the familiar barricade of the camp, your legs are trembling—not just from exertion, but from the sheer adrenaline coursing through your veins. Heeseung is the first to signal to the others, his hand raising in a sharp, deliberate gesture that sets the camp into motion. Sunoo and Jake rush to open the barricade, their expressions immediately shifting from curiosity to concern as they take in your faces.

“What happened? Why are you guys back so early?” Jungwon asks, his voice calm but edged with urgency as he strides toward you. His sharp gaze sweeps over each of you, searching for any sign of injuries.

“We need to talk. Now,” Jay says, his tone clipped and serious. He glances back at the forest, his hand still gripping his bow tightly. “Inside.”

Jungwon’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t question it. The commotion quickly grabs the attention of the rest of the group and they instinctively assembles, their expressions a mix of confusion and worry.

Heeseung speaks first, his voice steady despite the tension in his posture. “We found a horde. Dozens of them, maybe more, moving together in a clearing.”

“Okay, and?” Jake asks, his brows furrowed. “That’s not unusual. Hordes travel together all the time.”

“It wasn’t just a horde,” you say, your voice quieter but no less urgent. All eyes snap to you, and you feel the weight of their attention pressing down on you. “They were… whispering.”

“Whispering?”  Sunghoon repeats, his expression sceptical. “You mean the dead started to talk?” Sunghoon leans forward slightly, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His usually calm demeanour cracks under the weight of disbelief, his brow furrowing deeply.

“We don't know what it was.” you say, your voice sharp. “They sounded like the dead, but they were coherent words.”

A heavy silence falls over the group, the crackling of the fire the only sound. Sunoo looks between you and Jay, his usual light-hearted expression replaced by unease. “Are you sure? It couldn’t have just been… I don’t know, echoes or something?”

“‘Round them up,’” you say quietly, your voice breaking through the tense air. “‘Find them.’ Those were their exact words. It wasn’t just random sounds or echoes. It was deliberate.”

Jay shakes his head. “And it wasn’t just one or two words. They were coordinating.”

“Coordinating?” Jungwon repeats, his voice low and measured. He’s not panicking, but the tension in his shoulders betrays his concern.

Jake leans back slightly, his expression hardening as he processes your words. “You’re suggesting that the dead have started to talk? Or that people are out there pretending to be the dead? Why? To what end? That doesn’t make any sense,” he mutters. “Why would anyone—”

“Doesn't matter. They were looking for someone,” you cut in, your voice sharper now as you recall the chilling words you heard.

Jungwon’s expression darkens, his sharp mind clearly working through the possibilities. “Did they see you?”

You shake your head. “No. We got out before they could.”

“For now,” Jay mutters, his jaw tight. “But if they’re moving through the area, it’s only a matter of time before they find the camp.”

The group falls silent again, the weight of the situation sinking in. Jungwon exhales slowly, his gaze sweeping over everyone before settling on Heeseung. “What did the clearing look like? Could it be a pattern, or just a random gathering?”

“It wasn’t random,” Heeseung says firmly. “They were walking in a circle. Over and over, like some kind of… ritual.”

The word hangs in the air, chilling in its implication. You glance at Jungwon, his expression unreadable as he processes the information. Finally, he speaks, his voice steady but resolute. “We don’t have enough information to act, but we can’t stay complacent. Sunghoon, Heeseung, start reinforcing the barricades. Make sure every gap is sealed. Jake, check our supplies. I need to know how long we can hold out here if we need to. Sunoo, Ni-ki—keep the van ready to move at a moment’s notice.”

“I’ll keep watch with Jay,” you pipe up just as Jungwon turns to you, his sharp eyes meeting yours. His gaze lingers a moment longer than you expect, as though he’s searching for something—resolve, maybe, or doubt. Whatever he finds, it’s enough to make him nod.

Without a second to spare, everyone falls into a rhythm. The weight of what you’ve encountered hangs over the camp like a storm cloud. Nobody says anything, but the silence tells you everything. They’re scared. Jungwon included.

You climb the watchtower with Jay, the makeshift structure swaying slightly under your combined weight. The sun is beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the forest in hues of orange and gold. The beauty of it feels jarring against the tension in the air, a cruel reminder of the world that once was.

Behind you, you hear the faint sizzle of the campfire, now reduced to embers and smoke despite the night’s cold settling over the camp. It’s unfortunate, but it’s the smart move. Light and smoke would only draw attention, and right now, attention is the last thing any of you need.

Jay settles into position, his bow resting across his lap. His expression is stony, his eyes scanning the tree line with sharp precision. You don’t speak, sensing the simmering emotions beneath his calm exterior. Instead, you keep your focus outward, your own knife gripped tightly in your hand.

The forest is quiet, too quiet, the kind of silence that prickles at the back of your neck. Time crawls, every second feeling heavier than the last. Dusk settles in slowly, the golden hues fading into muted greys and shadows. Then, just as the last rays of sunlight vanish, movement catches your eye.

A figure emerges from the tree line, their silhouette hazy against the growing darkness. They’re limping slowly, deliberately, their steps unhurried, as they approach the gate. It’s a single person, their posture relaxed but not aimless. Something about them feels… wrong.

“Someone’s coming,” you whisper, nudging Jay with your elbow. He turns quickly, his sharp gaze locking onto the figure. The second he sees them, his entire body goes rigid.

“Shit,” he breathes, his voice barely audible. Before you can ask, he ducks behind the barricade, pulling you down with him. His face is pale, his usual composure cracking just slightly. “Stay down.”

“Who is it?” you ask, your voice low but urgent.

“It’s someone we took in. Don’t necessarily have the best relationship with,” Jay whispers harshly, his voice barely audible as his eyes remain fixed on the approaching figure. His expression is dark, and there’s an edge to his tone you haven’t heard before—something between anger and unease.

“A survivor you took in…” you begin, your stomach knotting as you piece it together. “You mean the one who killed your friend?”

Jay’s jaw tightens, his eyes flicking toward you briefly before returning to the figure. “Did Heeseung tell you that?” he mutters, his voice sharp but low enough to avoid carrying. “Doesn’t matter. What matters is he’s bad news, and he’s here.”

Your heart skips a beat, a cold dread settling in your chest. You glance over the edge of the barricade, your gaze snapping back to the figure, who is now closer to the gate. His features are clearer now—sharp, wiry, with a crooked grin that sends a chill down your spine.

“He doesn’t know you,” Jay continues, his voice tight. “You talk to him. He hasn’t seen you before. If he recognises me, it’s over.”

You hesitate, the weight of what he’s asking sinking in. Before you can respond, the man stops just a few feet from the gate, his eyes scanning the camp with a calculated intensity. Then he calls out, his voice loud but casual, almost friendly. “Hello? Anyone there?”

Jay gives you a small nudge, his expression hard but pleading. “Just keep him distracted, long enough for me to warn the rest,” he whispers, his voice barely audible. You nod, swallowing hard as you straighten, forcing yourself to step into view. Your fingers tighten around the knife in your hand, its cool weight a poor comfort against the fear knotting in your chest.

The man’s eyes light up when he sees you, his crooked grin widening. “Ah, someone’s home. Wasn’t sure if this place was abandoned or not.”

You take in his tattered clothing, the dried blood stains on his skin, and those eyes. Those eyes belong in a mental asylum if this were the world before.

“What do you want?” you ask, keeping your tone neutral but firm.

The man chuckles, his gaze sweeping over you with a calculating glint that makes your skin crawl. “Relax,” he says smoothly, spreading his hands in a mock gesture of innocence. “I’m just passing through. Haven’t seen anyone in a while, thought I’d see if there were any friendly faces around.”

“This camp’s occupied,” you reply coolly, standing your ground. “You should move along.”

For a split second, his grin falters, a flicker of something darker passing through his expression. But then the smile returns, sharper this time, and his gaze narrows slightly. “Fair enough,” he says lightly. “Don’t worry, I’m not looking for trouble. Just curious, is all.”

He takes a step closer, his tone turning smoother, more calculated. “Say… you haven’t seen a group around here, have you? Seven boys. One’s blonde. Another’s got a sharp tongue—calls himself Jay.”

The air feels heavier, and your grip on your knife tightens instinctively. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words settle over you, their implications clear. Your mind races, trying to calculate the safest response, but the danger in his tone is unmistakable.

“I haven’t seen anyone like that,” you say carefully, forcing your voice to remain steady. “And I wouldn’t know if I had.”

The man’s grin widens, but his eyes remain cold, watching you with unsettling precision. “Is that so?” he drawls, his tone almost mocking. “Well, that’s a shame. Been looking for them for a while now. That guy, Jay, he owes me… let’s just say, a few favours.”

His words hang in the air, heavy with menace. Behind you, you can sense Jay’s absence, the faint rustle of his movements as he slips away to warn the others. It’s just you and this man now, and you’re painfully aware of how exposed you are.

“Like I said,” you repeat, your voice firmer this time, “you won’t find them here. So you should move along.”

For a moment, the man doesn’t respond, his gaze lingering on you as though trying to read between your words. Then he takes a step back, his grin never wavering. “Well, I won’t take up any more of your time,” he says lightly, though there’s a faint edge to his voice. “Nice camp you’ve got here. Hope it stays that way.”

With that, he turns and begins to limp away, his steps slow and deliberate. You don’t lower your knife, your gaze fixed on his retreating figure, tracking every laboured movement until he vanishes into the tree line. Only when the shadows swallow him whole do you finally let out the breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. Your legs tremble beneath you, exhaustion and adrenaline mixing into a potent cocktail that leaves you unsteady.

“Is he gone?” Jay reappears and asks from behind you, his voice low and tense. He steps closer, his eyes darting nervously toward the gate as if expecting the man to reappear at any moment.

“For now,” you whisper, barely able to hear your own voice over the pounding of your heart. The words feel hollow, more for your own reassurance than his. 

You glance at Jay—his face is pale, his usual composure shattered. His bow has been replaced with his pistol, and he grips it so tightly that his knuckles turn white, as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded.

The silence between you lingers for a beat too long. Without a word, you start climbing down the ladder, your mind racing to piece together what just happened. Questions swirl in your head, each one more unsettling than the last. Why was he here? How did he find the camp? And most troubling of all—what does he really want? 

Jay follows, his footsteps slower, more hesitant. By the time the two of you reach the bottom, the rest of the group is already gathered around. Their expressions range from confusion to concern, a tension hanging in the air like a storm waiting to break.

“What happened?” Heeseung is the first to speak, his tone wary but insistent. “What did he want?”

You glance at Jay, whose jaw is clenched so tightly it looks like it might snap. His grip on his pistol hasn’t loosened, and his posture is rigid, like he’s bracing for something.

You shift your gaze back to Heeseung, the words slipping out before you can second-guess them. “It’s the guy you told me about,” you say quietly. “He was looking for you lot.”

“And I don’t think he bought a single thing I said,” you admit, your voice even but laced with quiet frustration. 

Jay exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair, but instead of relief, you see something else settle in his expression—panic, the kind that runs deep and raw. “Oh god… we can’t stay here. We need to leave. Right now.”

The fear in his voice startles you. You’ve never seen Jay like this, not the sharp, sarcastic, ever-sceptical man who’s never once let his guard down, and you’re suddenly more confused than ever. Then it clicks, the words the stranger said echoing in your mind: 

That guy, Jay, he owes me. 

He singled Jay out.

But why? If Heeseung was right, if the man was the one who killed their friend, why would Jay owe him anything? 

Your heart sinks, the realisation creeping in like a shadow. You glance at Jungwon, his jaw clenches subtly, the muscle ticking as he processes it all. He doesn’t say anything, but the look he gives you says it all. He’s thinking the exact same thing.

“Jay,” Jungwon starts slowly, his voice calm but laced with suspicion. “What did you do?”

Jay’s head snaps toward the leader, his sharp eyes locking onto him like a deer caught in headlights. For a moment, he doesn’t speak, the silence stretching uncomfortably between you. Then his jaw tightens, and you see it—the guilt, the weight of something he’s been carrying for far too long.

“What did you do, Jay?” Jungwon presses, his voice steadier now, his suspicion hardening into certainty.

“Are you accusing me of something?” Jay scoffs in mock annoyance.

The silence that follows is suffocating. Sunghoon steps forward, his sharp gaze fixed on Jay. “No, he’s right. Why would he be looking for us? Specifically for you?”

Jay’s head snaps toward Sunghoon, his eyes narrowing defensively. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m asking if there’s something you’re not telling us,” Sunghoon says, his tone calm but firm. “Because he didn’t just stumble across us, Jay. He knows exactly who he's looking for.”

Jay hesitates, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, and you can see the internal battle raging behind his eyes. Finally, he lets out a sharp breath, his shoulders slumping as the fight drains out of him.

“I went after him.”

“You what?” Sunoo’s voice is a mix of disbelief and anger. “You went after him alone?”

Jay ignores him, his focus entirely on the ground as he continues. “It wasn’t hard to find him. He was camped out at the edge of the city, asleep, surrounded by our supplies. I took them back. All of them.”

“And then?” Jungwon presses, his voice dangerously calm.

Jay hesitates, his jaw tightening. “Then… I shot him. In the ankle. Left him there. The sound attracted the dead, and I ran.”

The silence that follows is deafening. You glance around the group, their faces a mix of shock, anger, and something heavier—betrayal.

“You left him?” Jake says, his voice low and incredulous. “You left him to die?”

“He killed her!” Jay snaps, his voice rising as he finally meets Jake’s gaze, his eyes burning with a mix of defiance and regret. “What was I supposed to do? He put a knife to her throat, and we gave him what he wanted. And he killed her anyway. You think he deserved mercy?”

“You could’ve told us,” Heeseung says quietly, his tone cutting deeper than if he’d yelled. “You could’ve trusted us instead of going off and doing something reckless.”

“I couldn’t!” Jay’s voice cracks, the raw emotion spilling over. “I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. I had to… I had to make him pay.”

“And now he’s here,” Jungwon says, his voice cold and measured. “Looking for you. And you’ve put all of us at risk because of it.”

Jay’s shoulders sag, the weight of Jungwon’s words pressing down on him like a physical burden. “I didn’t think he’d survive,” he admits quietly, his voice barely audible.

“Well, he did,” Jake snaps, his anger bubbling to the surface. “And now he’s got a grudge and knows exactly where to find us.”

Part of you understands Jay’s anger, his grief. The sheer weight of what they’d lost—what that man had taken—could drive anyone to the edge. But the other part of you, the part sharpened by survival, sees the problem for what it is. Heeseung is right—it was reckless. This isn’t just about a chance encounter or a petty grudge. That man is here for revenge, and now the camp is squarely in his crosshairs.

Jay swallows hard, the fight in him extinguished. His voice trembles as he mutters, “I’m sorry…” The words hang in the air, hollow and inadequate.

The moonlight cast harsh shadows on everyone’s faces, highlighting the unease and exhaustion etched into their expressions. Sunghoon leans against the barricade, his jaw tight as he stares into the darkness. Jake’s hands are curled into fists, his lips pressed into a thin line. Even Sunoo, ever the optimist, looks pale and withdrawn.

Finally, Jungwon exhales sharply, breaking the tension. His shoulders square, and his expression hardens as he steps forward, taking charge. “We don’t have time for blame right now,” he says, his voice steady and commanding. The tone leaves no room for argument, cutting through the tension like a knife. “What’s done is done. We focus on what’s next.”

“And what’s that?” Sunoo asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

“We leave,” Jungwon says simply. “Because if he comes back, he won’t be alone.”

The words hit like a hammer, and the weight of them settles over the group. Jake’s head snaps up, his eyes wide. “You’re saying we abandon the camp? Everything we’ve built here? I thought we’d finally be able to settle down.”

“We don’t have a choice,” Jungwon replies firmly, his gaze sweeping across the group. There’s a steadiness in his tone, but you can see the weight of the decision reflected in his tense posture. “He knows exactly where we are, we can’t defend this place against a coordinated attack. And it’s not the first time we’ve had to pack up and leave because of circumstances beyond our control.”

Heeseung nods slowly, his expression grim. “He’s right. We’ve seen what people like that can do. And it’s not just him. There’s that strange horde we encountered earlier today. If he’s somehow connected to them—staying here is suicide.”

“But where would we even go?” Ni-ki interjects, his voice edged with frustration. “It’s not like there are safe havens just waiting for us.”

Heeseung pulls a folded sheet of paper from his back pocket, its edges frayed and creased from frequent use. It’s a map of Seoul, though it’s seen better days. Parts of it are scratched out, and there are annotations scrawled in the margins—places they’ve scavenged, places they should avoid. As Heeseung unfolds it, you notice the heavy red crosses marking several areas.

“There’s nowhere to go but further north,” Heeseung says, his tone measured as he scans the map. “But that takes us closer to the demilitarised zone. That place fell to The Future the last time we checked.”

The tension in the group thickens as Heeseung continues to analyse the limited options. Judging by the sheer number of red crosses, it’s clear their choices are slim. The faint hope of finding refuge seems to dwindle with every second.

Then your eyes catch on something familiar—a road along the Seoul-Busan highway, just as it’s leaving the city. A rest stop is marked there, scratched out in bold red ink. The memory of that place hits you like a spark in the darkness.

“Here,” you say, pointing to the rest stop on the map.

Heeseung glances at where you’re pointing and immediately shakes his head. “No. That’s one of The Future’s outpost. The place is probably crawling with them.”

“What? No,” you reply quickly, your brows furrowing as you think back. “I was there. Scavenging. There was a gas station filled with supplies. It was too big of a place and too risky for me to set up camp, so I took what I could and left. But when I wanted to go back for more, it was overrun by the dead. I didn’t want to take my chances alone. But if there’s eight of us, it should be pretty easy to clear out if we’re careful.”

The words tumble out of your mouth, and for a moment, the group falls silent. You look up from the map, suddenly aware of the fleeting glances being exchanged between Jungwon, Heeseung, and the others. Confusion is written plainly across their faces, their unease palpable.

“When was that?” Jungwon’s voice cuts through the silence, careful and probing.

You hesitate, trying to gauge the timeline in your head. “Over a month or two ago? Give or take. It was the first time I had to venture that far out in search of food. Finding that place felt like a blessing—I hadn’t eaten for days at that point.”

You’re so caught up in recounting the memory that you almost miss the look of shock that flashes across Jungwon’s face. His expression hardens, his gaze shifting to Heeseung, who looks equally taken aback.

“Y/N, are you sure it’s the same rest stop?” Heeseung asks, his gaze sharp and unyielding as it locks onto yours.

“Positive,” you reply firmly, though the rising tension in the air makes your chest tighten. “I think I’d remember the place that quite literally saved my life.”

Heeseung’s lips press into a thin line, his eyes flicking toward Jungwon. “Jungwon…” he starts slowly, his voice laced with urgency. “Wasn’t the last time we had to move camp to run from The Future about two months ago?”

Jungwon doesn’t respond right away. His jaw tightens, his expression darkening as if the weight of the realisation is physically bearing down on him. Finally, he looks at you, his sharp eyes searching yours for answers, certainty, or maybe even doubt. But all he finds is your unwavering resolve.

“Something is seriously wrong,” Jake mutters, his voice barely audible as he scratches the back of his neck. His gaze flits between you and the others, confusion etched deeply into his features. It’s as though he’s trying to piece together a puzzle where the pieces don’t quite fit. “If that place was overrun by the dead, and The Future was still active there, then…”

His voice fades into the background, his muttering drowned out by the rising unease. The tension among the group is palpable, a storm brewing just beneath the surface. You’re equally as confused as the rest of them, but you can tell their confusion stems from something you don’t yet understand.

Jungwon’s expression hardens further, his voice low and deliberate as he says the words that send a chill down your spine. “The Future… fell?”

The statement lingers in the air, heavy and foreboding. Your mind races, trying to comprehend what he means, but before you can process it, the sound of shuffling feet cuts through the stillness.

It starts faint, like the rustle of dried leaves in the wind, but it grows louder with each passing second. The guttural moans of the undead follow, a haunting symphony of the dead. There’s no mistaking it—there are a lot of them, and they’re close.

Jungwon’s head snaps toward the sound, his hand immediately gripping the blade at his hip. His voice cuts through the rising chaos. “Ni-ki, start up the van! Everyone else, grab what you can and get on. Now!”

The group springs into action, weapons drawn as the moans grow louder, the shuffling of feet drawing closer. You grip your knife tightly, your pulse pounding in your ears.  The forest that once offered a fragile sense of safety now feels like it’s closing in.

“They’re coming from everywhere!” Sunghoon shouts, his voice cutting through the chaos as he points toward the tree line.

Jungwon moves quickly, stopping next to you, “Y/N, with me. We need to clear a path for the van to pass through.”

You nod, swallowing the lump of fear rising in your throat, and fall into step behind him. The first of the undead breaks through the undergrowth, its decayed face catching the dim light, its milky, lifeless eyes locking onto you with unrelenting hunger. 

“Stay close,” Jungwon says, his voice low but steady as he raises his blade.

The camp erupts into a flurry of motion and noise, the clash of weapons against bone mingling with the moans of the undead. You steal a glance at Jungwon, his movements precise and controlled as he takes down one of the creatures with a single, fluid strike.

Even as you fight, your mind is clouded with questions. The Future fell. The weight of those words lingers, gnawing at the edges of your focus. What could it mean? How could it connect to what’s happening now? The rest stop, the hordes, the whispers—none of it adds up.

Your thoughts are abruptly cut short as another zombie lunges toward you, its rotting hands outstretched. You dodge instinctively, driving your knife into its skull. The sickening crunch reverberates up your arm, but you can’t afford to dwell on it. Not now. That’s right, what’s the point of dwelling on the dangers of the future if you can’t even make it out of the present alive?

“Y/N, watch out!” Jungwon’s voice snaps you back to reality just in time for you to duck as another undead stumbles toward you. Jungwon’s blade flashes in the dim light, and the creature collapses in a heap. He glances at you, his expression unreadable but firm. “Focus. We need to keep moving.”

You nod, breathless but determined, and press forward. The path ahead is thick with the undead, their shuffling forms threatening to overwhelm the group. But together, you and Jungwon cut through the horde, each strike clearing the way inch by hard-fought inch.

Behind you, the van’s engine roars to life, Ni-ki shouting from the driver’s seat, “We’re ready! Let’s move!”

“Keep pushing!” Jungwon calls to the others, his voice unwavering. The van lurches forward, and you fight harder, carving a path through the chaos as the vehicle edges closer to the gate.

The group scrambles toward the van, the undead closing in with every passing second. One by one, the group leaps into the back, the interior modified into a wide, open space—likely Ni-ki’s handiwork. The seats have been ripped out, replaced with a carpet that’s seen better days but provides enough room for everyone to pile in.

You’re about to climb into the van when something catches your eye—a lone figure standing just at the edge of the clearing.

At first, you think it’s another survivor. It’s upright, still, as though it’s observing the chaos. But then you take in its tattered clothing and decayed flesh, and the breath catches in your throat. It’s a zombie.

But it’s not moving.

Your heart pounds as your gaze locks onto its face. The peeling skin and hollow cheeks are all too familiar, but its eyes—its eyes are clear. Not the usual milky, lifeless void you’ve come to expect from the undead, but sharp and disturbingly human. For a moment, you could swear it’s looking directly at you.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Jungwon’s voice cuts through the haze, snapping your focus back to the present. He’s gripping the doorframe, his blade still in his hand, ready to help you in.

“Do you see that?” you ask, your voice low and unsteady, gesturing toward the figure.

Jungwon’s eyes follow your line of sight. His expression shifts subtly—confusion giving way to unease as his gaze locks on the unmoving figure. He doesn’t say anything immediately, but the tension in his posture tells you he sees it too.

“Y/N, get in,” he says firmly, his voice quiet but insistent.

You hesitate for a split second longer, your mind racing as you try to process what you’re seeing. The figure doesn’t move, doesn’t make a sound. Its eyes remain fixed on you, eerily still and unnervingly focused.

“Now,” Jungwon snaps, his urgency jolting you into action.

You clamber into the van, pulling the door shut behind you. The van lurches forward, the sound of the undead clawing at the sides as Ni-ki floors the gas, navigating the rough forest terrain with practiced skill. Inside, the group struggles to catch their breath, weapons clattering to the floor as they brace themselves against the jerking motions of the vehicle.

But you can’t stop thinking about the figure. You glance out the back window, searching for it, but the dense trees blur past too quickly.

Jungwon leans closer, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper, gripping the side of the van for stability. “It wasn’t like the others. It didn’t move. And its eyes…”

Jungwon’s jaw tightens, his gaze fixed ahead as if he’s already trying to piece together an answer. “We’ll deal with it later,” he mutters. But you can see the unease in his expression, the weight of what you both just witnessed settling over him like a dark cloud.

The van jolts over another bump, and you force yourself to focus on the here and now. The memory of the figure lingers, though, its sharp, human-like eyes burned into your mind. Whatever it was, it wasn’t normal—and the thought of what it could mean sends a chill down your spine.

Sounds of laboured breaths and quiet muttering fill the van as everyone tries to catch their breath. Sunghoon sits near the front, wiping blood off his blade with the edge of his sleeve, while Jake rifles through the med kit, his brow furrowed as he takes inventory of what’s left. Jay is silent, his expression dark as he stares out one of the small reinforced windows.

“So,” Heeseung pipes up from the passenger seat, glancing back over his shoulder. “Any idea where we’re heading?”

“Can we not have a moment of silence for the fact that we’ve barely escaped death? Again.” Sunoo quips, his usual sarcasm laced with exhaustion.

“Geez, don’t have to be all prissy about it,” Heeseung mutters, rolling his eyes as he slouches back in his seat.

“Head for the rest stop,” Jungwon says abruptly, his voice cutting through the low hum of conversation. His tone is calm but resolute, the kind that immediately silences any further remarks.

Jay’s head snaps toward him, his dark eyes narrowing. “You can’t be serious. We don’t even know if what she’s saying is true. What if it’s not what she says it is? What if The Future is still there?”

Jungwon’s gaze flicks toward Jay, his expression unyielding. “We don’t have many options, Jay. You saw the map. Everywhere else is a dead end—literally.”

Jay scoffs, his frustration boiling to the surface. “And this isn’t? What if we’re driving straight into a trap?”

“Jay,” Jake interjects sharply, his voice uncharacteristically firm as he closes the med kit with a snap. “With all due respect, I don’t think you have any say in this right now.”

The tension in the van thickens as Jake’s words hang in the air. Jay glares at him but doesn’t respond, his lips pressing into a thin line as he looks away.

“We’ll approach cautiously,” Jungwon continues, his voice steady but firm. “We scout the area first. If it looks clear, we check it out. If not, we move on. But we can’t afford to keep running blind. We need supplies, and we need a plan.”

The group exchanges uneasy glances, but no one voices further objections. Jungwon’s calm authority seems to settle over everyone, even if only temporarily. You can feel the weight of their trust in him, even Jay’s, despite his reluctance.

You lean back against the van’s wall, your fingers brushing over the hilt of your knife as you try to steady your breathing. The memory of the lone figure from earlier flashes in your mind, its clear eyes locked onto yours. You push the thought aside for now—there’s no room for distractions when the stakes are this high.

The van jolts slightly as Ni-ki manoeuvres it over the uneven terrain, his focused expression illuminated by the dim glow of the dashboard lights. You catch Jungwon’s gaze briefly, and he gives you a small nod—an unspoken reassurance, for now.

About half an hour drifts by, Ni-ki drives steadily along the uneven roads skirting the edge of the forest, the dense trees remaining close on the van's left. It’s a long detour as compared to driving straight through the city. But it’s safer this way—quieter. No one speaks, no one stirs.

Everyone else is asleep, or at least pretending to be. Jake is curled up against the wall, his head resting on his arms. Sunghoon sits with his back against the van, his knife still in his lap. Even Jay looks like he’s finally let himself rest, though his hand never strays far from his pistol.

But you? You don’t sleep. And neither does Jungwon.

You both sit next to each other in silence, the weight of unspoken thoughts pressing down on what little space there is between you. There’s an understanding in that silence—a shared knowledge of something far beyond your comprehension. Something that lingers, gnawing at the edges of your mind.

This isn’t just about surviving anymore. It’s about staying ahead of someone who knows how to hunt you down. That said, sleep is the last thing you’re worried about.

“What do you think that was?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The words hang in the air, cautious, careful not to disturb the fragile peace inside the van.

Jungwon doesn’t look at you. His gaze is locked on a single spot on the ragged carpet beneath his feet, his fingers tracing the worn fabric absentmindedly. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, distant. “A mutation? I don’t know.”

“Do you think it’s him?” you press, your heart beating just a little faster. You don’t need to explain who you’re referring to. The thought is already there, lingering between you both.

Jungwon’s hand stills against the carpet, and for a moment, he says nothing. Then, in a voice barely above a murmur, he replies, “Maybe.”

That single word carries so much weight, so much dread. It hangs heavy in the air, settling deep in your chest. 

There’s no certainty in his answer. No confidence. It’s unnerving—he’s usually the one with the answers, the one who reassures everyone else that they’ll figure it out. But right now, there’s none of that conviction. Just tired confusion, vulnerable, almost hopeless. A stark contrast to the strong, commanding voice he uses when he speaks to the others.

It’s the kind of tone he never lets the group hear.

And for a second, you’re glad they’re asleep. Glad no one else is awake to see this side of him—the side that isn’t sure, that doesn’t have all the answers. 

Because you know, without a doubt, it would weigh on them. Everything Jungwon says, everything he feels, it spreads through the group like wildfire. That’s how much they rely on him. That’s how deeply their survival depends on his mentality—whether he realises it or not.

Jungwon exhales slowly, rubbing a hand over his face. “If it is him… then we’re in more trouble than we thought.”

The van jolts over a bump in the road, and Ni-ki mutters something under his breath from the driver’s seat, his focus unwavering. The silence stretches between you, thick with tension but not uncomfortable. It’s a shared quiet—both of you lost in your thoughts, both of you carrying burdens too heavy to put into words.

You glance at Jungwon from the corner of your eye. His posture is rigid, his arms resting loosely on his knees, but the tension in his shoulders betrays his exhaustion. He hasn’t slept since… Well, that’s the thing—you can’t even remember the last time you actually saw him let himself relax for a moment. His gaze remains distant, focused on nothing and everything all at once.

Without really thinking, you shift closer, the subtle bump of your shoulder against his drawing his attention. He glances at you briefly, his tired eyes flickering with surprise, but he doesn’t pull away.

Your heart is still racing from the events of the night—the man, the whispers, the horde that shouldn’t have been there. But now, sitting here beside him, the weight of it all feels a little easier to carry. Slowly, cautiously, you let your head rest against his shoulder.

For a moment, he doesn’t move. You wonder if you’ve overstepped, if he’ll pull away, but then you feel it—slow and hesitant. Jungwon shifts slightly, his body relaxing as he leans into you. His head rests gently against yours, his blonde hair brushing your temple.

Neither of you says anything. There’s no need to.

The hum of the van’s engine fills the space between you, a steady rhythm that matches the rise and fall of his breathing. His warmth seeps into you, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the world outside fades into the background.

It’s strange, this quiet moment of closeness. You’ve spent so long keeping your distance from others, building walls to protect yourself. But with Jungwon, it feels different. It feels… safe.

“You should rest,” he murmurs softly, his voice barely louder than the hum of the engine.

“So should you,” you whisper back, your eyes closing briefly as the exhaustion pulls at you.

A faint chuckle escapes him, more a breath than a laugh. “Yeah.”

But neither of you moves. You both stay like that, leaning against each other, finding comfort in the quiet, fleeting peace. And for a moment—just a moment—you let yourself forget the chaos waiting outside.

You let yourself breathe.

part 1 - rotten | masterlist | part 3 - whispers

♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

notes from nat: my apologies if i missed any taglist requests commented under the previous part! my tumblr's not working like it's SUPPOSED TO. regardless, i should've noted down everyone. part 3 is a little shorter so i'll post it coming saturday 12am kst (maybe earlier if this manages to reach 200 notes hehe) enjoy!

perm taglist. @hajimelvr @s00buwu @urmomssneakylink @grayscorner @catlicense @bubblytaetae @mrchweeee @artstaeh @sleeping-demons @yuviqik @junsflow @blurryriki @bobabunhee @hueningcry @fakeuwus @enhaslxt @neocockthotology @Starryhani @aishisgrey @katarinamae @mitmit01 @youcancometome @cupiddolle @classicroyalty @dearsjaeyun @ikeucakeu @sammie217 @M1kkso @tinycatharsis @parkjjongswifey @dcllsinna

taglist open. 1/2 @sungbyhoon @theothernads @kyshhhhhh @jiryunn @strxwbloody @jaklvbub @rikikiynikilcykiki @jakesimfromstatefarm @rikiiisoob @doublebunv @thinkinboutbin @eunandonly @wilonevys @sugarikiz @jellymiki @adoredbyjay @rebeccaaaaaaaa @strawberryhotlips @baedreamverse @bamguetismee @flwwon @l1s0ro @engurishu @opheliaas-stuff

non-gray/underlined = cannot tag

[slowing-down-in-style]

June 18th 2025

It's Wednesday. I had to think about that before I decided that it was most certainly a Wednesday. I didn't hear the sirens today. Do I think it's because there were storms in the forecast? Most likely, yes.

Bless their hearts, the dogs let me sleep in a little bit this morning. And by that I mean that they still woke me up at 7:30am per usual but were most polite about it when I fell back asleep for another hour.... and a half. Bodie is never really bothered. He's all too happy to lay in bed with me until as late as 10 or 11am. Georgia wakes with the dawn and is very insistent I let her outside so she can hunt. Mornings are when the squirrels are most active... I suppose I can't deny her her pleasures in life. But it's nice when she allows me just a few more winks. Thanks, George.

Last night I told myself I was going to rest this morning, drink some coffee and read my book a little bit before I started in on the action of the day. All of that went right out the window, as the motivation train slammed into me bright and early. Sometimes you just know if you don't act on something right when it happens, then it wont happen at all. That happens to me a lot. And so, I put on some shorts and a tank top and set to work. All of this because somehow, despite getting things done yesterday, I somehow felt like I had not done enough.

To help myself feel a bit more accomplished a the the end of today I decided I'd keep track of what I had done via a list in discord. That way, even if my brain tried to trick me into thinking I didn't get anything done, or worse- distracted me from taking at least one task to full completion, I would be able to look back on the list and see what I had completed and what I had half started and could be circled back to.

I'd like some checkmarks with my boxes, please.

Don't get me wrong. I still found myself in the ADHD sitting posture from time to time.. but it wasn't so bad. There aren't many things left in the garage I can pour hours of my attention to in the way of strolling down memory lane. It's been condensed down to just a few boxes now. I'm sure when the time comes I'll spend a good deal of time dissecting the random notebooks and things I've kept. But for now, it's just unloading the rest of the odds and ends I have no more use for.

Like box of things I had taken from grandma and grandpa's when they moved up near Teri. Inside are some hooks for hanging my bikes from - which I do plan on using. The other thing in there... kind made me chuckle. My grandpa had strung a tennis ball from the ceiling and used it as an indicator if he 9or grandma had pulled their cars too far into the garage. I wonder if that was something he did preemptively or if he or grandma had run into the riding mower or a stack of boxes one too many times and he decided to put an end to it.

Anyways... of all the things that my grandparents had that we kids got to claim when they moved/passed on... I solidly stuck to items that held some memories for me. Grandma's brass butterfly wind chime, the brass butterfly sun dial, grandpa's bike hooks and the ball on the string. I think I'll keep the hooks, they are still in good shape. But the ball is long since lost and grandpa has replaced it with a piece of foam. I think I'll just have to track down a tennis ball of my own and string it up like he did. I think that would be pretty neat. Grandpa's tennis ball was red, wonder if they still make red ones...

...

I really don't know why I am writing this.

...

I think this whole garage sale thing is one massive avoidance mission. And the mission I'm avoiding is getting the office together for when I can work from home with my new job. My brain is stupid and thinks that I can't reorganize the office unless I get rid of things. And moving things from one room to another isn't getting rid of things. So then I need to donate them or throw them away or finally have that yard sale. And then wouldn't you know it I have a whole week open where I have no job to report to! Oh and it's not going to rain? Perfect! Avoidance Mission initiated.

While we are on the topic of the office... I wish I could plan out in my head how I want it to look. I can't imagine a functional but visually pleasing office in that room for some reason. I should ask Chris. He's better at this kind of thing than I am.

Anyways... back to other stuff about today. I spent at least a few hours today reading. I'm reading The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights. I've always liked Arthurian legends and the like- but this is the first I've actually read a book about it directly. It's an interesting set of stories for sure. Even if the events that take place for these people seem incredibly random.

It makes me wonder how much different storytelling may have been back then from how it is how. Written stories took so much time effort and required a lot of resources that a lot of people didn't have access to. So a lot of the written stories we have from early time periods are cut down to the bare bones minimum. There was a lot more meat (and value imho) in the story as heard by word of mouth from storytellers. The tales from storytellers may not necessarily have been entirely accurate, since details are dropped, forgotten, adlibbed or embellished... but personally I find them to be more... real.

I wonder how many stories we have lost really important details from simply because someone thought it wasn't valuable enough to be written down. I wonder how much of history would change if we knew the answer to that question. I wonder how much we have gotten wrong.

Wow... getting a little deep here. Probably time for bed.

[performingmyself]

Beloved and I have been working on our communication for a while now, and we're having trouble finding a balance.

Today's hiccup:

Beloved came in talking to me about something and realized on her own that my brain was already On Task, so she asked if I was busy and I said, yes, I would need a minute but she was welcome to return in a time. When she did come back, I had turned the water in the shower on and didn't quite hear what she asked but presumed she was returning to talk so I popped my head out and asked her to repeat. She did, and I answered, and ideally this would have been when we moved on to talking about what she had come to talk to me about.

Instead I got "I'm only asking because..."

I'm trying to work on managing my irritation at this. It is deeply agitating for me to be treated like I am upset or aggressive when I'm being neither, especially since Beloved continues to struggle with her own tone in ways I am currently taking a break from trying to influence [unfortunately me taking a break from asking anything tone wise of Beloved doesn't change the fact that I *have* brought it up in the past, so now every time she reacts to MY tone, I am treated to her frustration that I get to ask her to manage her tone but she can't get me to manage mine. This is said without irony about once every other month, despite weekly check ins about how I've been doing in which she has no feedback other than "everything was fine"]. It's....hard. to bit back the agitation, and I don't think I quite got the balance today because I couldn't manage to let her finish defending her question that I had just answered with zero criticism or discontent, and cut her off. But I did at least manage to make what I said a fairly even toned "I know. You don't need to defend the question to me, I was just answering the question."

This in turn clearly afitated Beloved. To her credit, she didn't escalate herself and contained her feelings, and we did then get to talk about the thing she came to talk to me about, and it went just fine.

But it's hard. It's hard to spend every conversation with Beloved biting my tongue and swallowing my hurt and deciding not to "pick the fight" when Beloved is unable to actually hear what I'm saying to her and I know I can't have the conversation without getting overwhelmed. It's just been so long since talking to someone didn't feel like wrestling a shark, and I have been really struggling with the feelings of isolation lately. Beloved is, as always, Beloved, but she is also no longer someone I feel like I am in sync with, and more importantly no longer someone who meets my emotional needs. I want that to change. I know a lot has happened in our relationship and our time sharing each other's lives, so it's not like I'm expecting us to be word perfect on each other. But. It would be nice to feel like we were still compatible? And I'm just not sure we are. Even the sex isn't what it could be (not to say it's BAD just to acknowledge that I've gotten really comfortable faking an orgasm and maybe that's not a good thing)

Anyway. Back to the hiccup. I have a hard time deciding what lines I need to hold, and that leads to a lot of split second decisions on the subject that I'm not sure are helpful.

I'm considering the merits of a few different ways I could have handled the hiccup and trying to understand the functional and the dysfunctional in it all.

Option 1) wait through defense of question, do not acknowledge in any way, and simply wait for the question to come [optional prompt if a response appears to be expected "what did you want to chat about?" To remove the option to discuss the defense.] If this approach does not lead to a decreased impulse to explain after a month or two, name the concern: "I notice you often defend your questions even when I don't criticize them or ask for clarity on anything. Can you tell me more about what that's doing for you?" Hear the answer, reflect content for understanding, and identify potential alternatives that meet everyone's needs.

Option 2) wait through defense of question, reflect back understanding, then ask if anything I did or said indicated that these concerns were present/should be addressed. If yes, ask for specifics and discuss whether this is a "tolerate" or "accommodate" question for us. If no, ask if this is an internal impulse I can support her in reducing, and if yes, discuss. If no, identify with Beloved the impact of the behavior and communicate that while this is not inherently an ask for change, it is an ask to continue participating in the work of attending to that impact in collaboration with me, as I am able and willing to either tolerate the change process independently or tolerate lack of change with certain accommodations (e.g. acknowledging that if I get irritated at being exposed to a known-distressing-to-me self-solthing technique of Beloved's, that while I still do not have the right to be unkind in any way, it is also not her right to ask me to not feel agitated rather than ask me to manage my agitation appropriately)

Option 3) respond to every self-soothing defense with "okay." And an immediate pivot back into the last functional floor of the conversation (e.g. in the case of today, "okay. You came up to say something, we can talk about that if you're ready") and explicitly decline to engage in any defensive/self-soothing explanations (e.g. "I understand why you asked, however I don't understand why that explanation is important to discuss right now. If you disagree, we can bring that to couples' counseling, but for now, what did you come to talk about?")

I think the big downside *I'm* finding with all of these is that they're still coming entirely from the perspective of me holding the floor of Beloved's emotional regulation, which is precisely what I'm trying to get away from.

But ultimately I don't know that any of the approaches likely to be effective at this stage would be any different. It feels very hard to motivate myself towards that level of investment in Beloved's infrastructure when I am also carrying so much of my own without her support [not to mention the places where Beloved's challenges add to or exaccerbate my own needs and ability to meet them] but I also acknowledge that I can't rightly ask her to do this without ME so if I want to ask this of her, I do need to do my part.

I've been starting to realize how little of that I have left in me though. I'm just not sure how I'm supposed to keep up that much investment when it means all my energy going out and no one's energy going back into me. I don't know how much room there is left before it starts to feel like work to let her have intimate moments with me anymore, like that intimacy is one sided and I'm not actually getting any in return so much as facilitating Beloved's illusion of an intimacy that isn't real. That doesn't seem terribly healthy to me, so I'm really hoping not to hit that point, but the resentment creeps in now, more than I'd like it to.

It's hard to be there for her in ways she keeps explicitly refusing to acknowledge while she talks about how alone she is and how I ask too much, unfair things, from her. It's hard to have been through everything I chose to put myself through on her behalf, and have the outcome be feeling shamed and inadequate to the one person I have ever truly believed loved me. I know she didn't ask those things of me, even though they're valuable to me. I know I can't blame her for my choices. It's not even my right to expect her appreciation or gratitude for what I did, seeing how she never asked for it and it was offered as a gift. I do wish she acknowledged it happened [and is still happening] though.

But that's still her choice. I can't make her. And if I am not willing to keep offerring those things under the current circumstances of our relationship, that's my right, but it's also my responsibility. I can feel sad or hurt or alone. But it's still my job to address that, either by deciding to tolerate it or by deciding to take away her access to having that conversation with me.

Sometimes after a long day of work and the third week in a row that the kitchen went uncleaned, I struggle with making the choices that are in line with my long term goals and values, and I feel a little more like disappearing into my own world rather than leaning into the one Beloved and I share. And maybe it's worth finding a way to acknowledge that between us so that I can have that time when needed. Maybe it doesn't need to be a criticism of Beloved's needs when we are together so much as a negotiation of when I am and am not available to meet them.

I will think about how and when to share these thoughts with Beloved