#and the other only having a fraction of their former personality left

[bippap]

I wish we could at least spend our eternities together

HEY GUYS POST CANCELLED GAY RIGHTS WON

[amymbona]

What if... Tashi wasn't the only one who suffered from an injury. What if you, a random girl from Stanford, that somehow became close with all three of the messy lovers, went on to have a successful career, that ended within a moment, just like Tashi's.

You became close to Art and Tashi during your Stanford years, having proven yourself as a sweet and yet equally as talent tennis player. Art had a bit of a crush on you, finding it slightly conflicting, especially since the main point of his interest used to be Tashi. The two have introduced you to Patrick as well, as he basically came like an inseparable part of the 2 + 1 pack. Eventually, it was you plus them, them plus you, and you became their little thing.

After Tashi's injury, her and Art's break-up with Patrick and all the events at the end of the school year, you found yourself in the middle of the mess. You couldn't really bear it, the intensity of Tashi's desire fueled by the need to be as close to tennis as possible, Art's indecisive and idiotic persona, and Patrick's bleeding, solving-everythin-by-sex attitude.

You lived with Patrick for a few months, the two of you fucking every so often, but the moment he began slacking off and turning to alcohol and nicotine for comfort, it was enough. Even after Patrick's heartbreaking promises and Art's unsuccessful attempt to reach out, you completely distanced yourself from the three. Then, it was just you.

Unfortunately, you couldn't escape the three fully. Patrick would bombard your phone with long messages and voice mails, sometimes accompanied by low quality videos of him jerking off and saying how much he missed you. He'd show up at your place a few times as well, and you had to physically kick him out. Art and Tashi were equally as difficult to avoid, as they were now the player-coach duo, attending the same matches as you. Luckily, they never spoke to you.

All in all, you were living your life. Yes, with an aching hole in your heart, but tennis was big enough to fill it. Until it leaves a hole even bigger.

"She's trying to get her to twist her own feet. Look, that ankle's gonna roll, I can see it." Tashi mutters anxiously, slipping her own hand into her husband's. The two have been watching your match against some australian player from the bleachers, not liking where it's been going at all.

"Right," Art agreed with a gentle squeeze of Tashi's hand. It really doesn't look good. You're constantly jumping from left to right, and the playstyle characteristic to yourself makes you swing on your right foot while you just move your left one over it from wide to side. They've seen you pull this move at Stanford a million of times, with you insisting it saves breath from moving too far, but they've also heard you whimper when you couldn't walk properly. "We told her to stop doing that ages ago."

And then it happens. A fraction of moment, when something snaps, the top of your foot kissing the pavement, and then you're on the floor, clutching your leg in pain.

Tashi is, surprisingly, is the first person by your side, pushing everyone away and just holding you in her arms. You sob and sob and sob, the weight of it all falling onto you, and the Donaldsons accompany you to the hospital. They stay with your for days and then take you home - to their home - because they know you can't be left alone.

And they call Patrick too, something they have sworn to never do, but eventually Art is the one to break the no contact rule and calls his former best friend. The guy is in their residence within hours, not caring at all that he had to fly from the very other side of the state.

It's almost comical, absurd and ironic even, how your sudden injury cause the three to reconcile. All the fights are long forgotten, and nobody even gets the chance to throw a jab at one another, not when they see you finally asleep in Tashi and Art's bed, clad in one of her silk pyjama sets, your poor, swollen ankle wrapped in a tight layer of white, heavy plaster cast. At that moment, all three of them hold hands and comfort one another because they know that you need them right now, that they have to be strong and mature for you.

You don't speak, you don't eat, and Art has to physically carry you to the bathroom so you can at least take a piss and wash your teeth. After Tashi successfully manages to push a few spoons of mashed potatoes past your lips, Patrick sits next to you for hours, just silently stroking your back and telling you that you're beautiful every so often.

Suddenly, you have everything you have hoped for, everything you missed and mourned, but at what cost? You've lost what was most important to you - your tennis career, even more successful than Tashi's, full of more accomplishments than all the three players combinwd - and what do you have now? Nothing, or everything?

[kissesforsatoru]

Can I ask for some headcanons for Yan!Bonten!Mikey with a former childhood sweetheart darling? Maybe they used to be inseparable/in love with each other as kids before the darling had to move away to the US when they were 8 and now so many years later they arrive back in Japan on a bussiness trip.

pairing : bonten!mikey x reader

summary : yan!bonten!mikey meeting his childhood sweetheart again

⤷ warnings : general yandere themes, implied kidnapping, briefly mentioned murder

– mikey takes his friends and family very seriously—their safety and happiness were the only reason he disbanded toman and moved on without them. he knew that if he kept them around then they would get hurt one way or another, which was the last thing he wanted.

– with every loss that he had he's learned to move on in his own way. some losses took him longer than others to get over, but still he moved on, nonetheless. but with you, he couldn't quite get you out of his head no matter how much time had passed, and quite frankly, it was annoying.

– he didn't like seeing your innocent smiling face flash through his mind whenever he would be shooting a traitor—vermin that needed to be disposed of. he didn't like spacing out during meetings to reminisce the time he spent with you when he was young, where he would blindly follow you around like a lost puppy. he was quite smitten back then, he will admit, but things are different now. he should let you go like he did everyone else.

– the only thing that mikey had going for him was the fact that you left on your own, long before he even formed toman, let alone kanto manji or bonten. he couldn't interfere with your life if you weren't even around. he doesn't have to worry about running into you either since he doesn't even know what you look like now, and it was safe to assume you didn't know what he looks like either. mikey would even go so far as to say that you probably don't remember him. the two of you were only friends for a small fraction of your lives when you were really young, and lots of people forget their childhoods so it's not farfetched. you don't know him; he doesn't know you.

– mikey ignores the fact that he could easily change that with just a simple order—he can get your pictures, your occupation, your friends, family, past lovers, whatever he wanted, really. every single record of yours could be in his possession within a matter of hours if he so wished, but he doesn't. you're just some person from his childhood, a random civilian to him now, at best; he has no reason to be digging around in your life.

– then everything got fucked up on one random tuesday afternoon. almost like fate, you ran into him—literally. you, absentminded as ever, weren't looking where you were going, and you ran into him. from the corner of his eye, he could see sanzu pull out his gun and point it towards the person sprawled out over himself, waiting for the order to shoot, but that order never came. whatever nonsense he told himself about not being able to recognize you had been a boldfaced lie, since he recognized you immediately. there was no questioning it, or second guessing himself, he knew that you were you.

– your sweet, sweet voice that used to lull him into a state of absolute serenity was now much more mature, but still it quelled his inner darkness just the same. his body relaxed against you, and against his better judgment, he wrapped an arm around your struggling body, pulling you closer to him.

– before he was okay with not knowing you. he didn't feel the need to pry or keep tabs on you but having the smallest taste of you again left him addicted. he needs you. he needs to know you, to have you, to own you. you make him feel sane, which is a feeling he can't just let slip through his fingers with the kind of life he lives. without you he might just go on a rampage—kill everyone and everything in sight cause he's just so peeved to not have you around. for the sake of not just himself but his organization and all of tokyo he cannot let you go; he won't let you go.

– now that you've unfortunately stumbled into his world of darkness, you can’t escape. he'll have you no matter what.

[yoongsisbae]

Run Run Run - Seoul Close (Part 5)

A zombie apocalypse breaks out and you’re stuck on a plane with none other than…BTS! Oh, you thought because you were an Army that would help you survive? Girl think again. OT7 BTS Zombie Apocalypse AU / BTS member x reader slow burn

WELL I'M NOT DEAD. MY CHARACTERS ON THE OTHER HAND...JUST KIDDING. LET ME COPE WITH HUMOR.

Warnings: death, monsters, blood, fighting, killing, gory details, some toxic nationalism, mention of SA-nothing graphic, angst, smut, handjob, fingering, bathtime shenanigans

Word Count: 21.5k (I actually got block limited for the first time on this chapter. I hope the long chapter makes up for the wait!)

---

Run.

Run.

Run.

Keep your back straight, your shoulders relaxed, move your arms, breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth, and most importantly, don’t trip!

AND RUN!!!

You look back. You expected to see a lot of them, but not this much...

‘It’s gonna okay it’s gonna okay it’s gonna okay,’ you repeat desperately, as long as you keep running!

No time to scream or even cry, you need that energy…

To run!

You hear the labored breaths of the men around you, such a stark contrast from the horrifying growls of the undead behind you, a group of zombies you all had accidently awakened from their mindless ambling.

But there is quite a distance, fortunately. And if you just keep ru-

“Ow,” you grunt. You collided into a back, knocking the wind out of you.

“Wh-” You are silenced at the sight in front of you. There is a hoard of zombies and fresh corpses, the monsters are crouched over the bodies, pulling apart and devouring what remains.

You all stare at the gruesome sight. No words are needed and you are too winded to form proper sentences anyways, so you push the closest person to your left into the grass, which so happened to be BTS leader, Kim Namjoon. 

You keep pushing him until he takes the hint. He yanks on who he can reach too, giving silent orders. ‘RUN THIS WAY!’

If you’re lucky, you can create enough distance between you and the monsters behind you that have already caught a scent of your blood before the preoccupied ones begin to notice you. And if you were really lucky, the former might just give up once they smelled the scraps of someone else’s meal.

Too bad luck is rarely on your side.

The feasting zombies smell a new meal instantly.

Dammit! 

Keep running! 

Run for cover, run into the woods, run as far as you can away from them.

Hongcheon is a fraction of the size of Seoul and yet there are already so many more of them than you had expected. 

So many lives gone. So many families torn apart, hearts broken, young lives cut short…

A city destroyed. 

You don’t have time to cry over it now. Maybe later, when you’re safe, you can think of the children you saw, thirsty for blood, eyes sunken in, tiny bodies brutalized into monstrosities. Later you can agonize over their stolen youth, wonder where their parents are, if they remained a family, feasting together even in death.

Right now, you have to…

Run.

-

“Run over there!”

It hurts to move, to breathe. Your head hurts, your chest hurts, you’re terrified, worried sick, barely able to think, running on adrenaline. Hoseok grabs your hand and pulls you along. It makes you grateful, yet it makes you worry more. He should run ahead of you, you feel like a burden, you feel your heart clench when he squeezes your hand. 

You can’t help but think about the others, even now, you should have cherished those moments more, the smiles and laughter and banter and good times. Taehyung’s jokes, Jungkook’s bored singing, an infectious melody that had the others and even you humming along. Hoseok’s animated retelling of the events at Sutasa temple that the leader and eldest two had missed, making you and the others laugh along, the leader’s slightly impressed and very dismayed expressions and Seokjin whining over his sore feet.  

How wonderful it was when sore feet were the only thing to complain about.

You should have enjoyed those days leading up to reaching Hongcheon city more. When killing zombies felt like a team building exercise. Remember that? Tallying up your kills. Like it was a game, like it wasn’t the worst thing imaginable you had to do to another person, because they were people at one point... 

You look at the scared tired faces of the men around you and think how easy it could be to lose them to the same fate, a tally in a game strangers play not knowing how much love that growling decaying body once held… the jokes they told, the songs they sung, the stories they experienced, the sacrifices they endured…

You should have taken life more seriously, maybe now it wouldn’t feel so abysmal, karma for your blase us vs. them mentality. How stupid, you of all people should know better.

No, it wasn’t you and them, it was you and your future staring back with yellow clouded eyes. You stare back and feel nothing but regret.

And guilt.

And fear.

So you run faster, gulp down hot air, let it burn your lungs and let it sting your belly, because you now know the pain of living is always better than death, always!

You follow the others into the first house you come across where you quickly barricade yourselves in.

One two three four five six…No. 

Namjoon pats you on the shoulder. You almost scream in surprise, but you were trained now to only scream into pillows or under water, places it would be hard for them to hear you, not when you actually wanted to. 

Seokjin is behind him. Seven, eight. 

You all made it. Even Dev. Fuck, you’re actually relieved.

You relax only a little. Everyone looks beyond exhausted. You all need food, you need water. You doubt this small abandoned house has enough of anything for all of you.

There’s black blood on your arms and clothes from where you had to defend yourself from the zombies who came too close. The others have blood on them, and you wished there was more light so you could properly make sure the blood wasn’t theirs. 

“Is everyone okay?” you whisper. No one is just ‘okay,’ but they knew what you meant.

They pull at their clothes, checking their bodies. They all nod. You glare at Dev, and then eye Taehyung who nods again. Now that you’re stationary you realize how sweaty you are, how tired. You fall to your knees, finally able to rest.

Namjoon walks cautiously through the house, making sure the coast is clear and there are no residents remaining, alive or otherwise.

As you rest you listen to doors sliding open, Namjoon’s footsteps as he makes his way through the house. The others are quiet, catching their breaths, holding their bodies against doors, coughing quietly, rubbing their muscles, and of course, listening intently to the sounds outside…

The scratching, clawing, growling…

“Clear. Two Beds.” Namjoon returns.

“I’ll check for food.” Yoongi stands up, wiping the sweat off his forehead.

“I’ll take first watch,” Namjoon says solemnly.

“Me too,” you add. He doesn’t argue with you, even if he does look like he wants to tell you to rest instead.

“Second.” Jimin and Taehyung say in unison.

It’s safe for now. What will it be like once the sun is high again? Better, worse? How long can you keep this up? 

Going through the city might have taken a couple of hours tops in the car, but you didn’t have that now, not even the horses…Those poor horses…

How many days will it take to get out now that you are on foot, you wonder. You can’t even bring yourself to look forward to it either, already imagining how much worse Seoul will be. 

You can’t help but think the situation you’ve put yourselves in is looking rather helpless.

You keep your eyes locked on a small divot in the flooring, trying to stay calm. Even if you had the time now, becoming emotional in this moment would be too dangerous. You have to focus and be ready for anything.

“We made it,” Namjoon whispers, placing his hand on your shoulder. You’re impressed with his optimism, you try not to feel worried, but it's for that exact reason you are so worried. You made it this time, but what about next time? What if something happens to him, what if you never hear those words again? Namjoon just might be all the optimism you have left.

You eat cold portions of canned food Yoongi prepares. 

You’re not mad at him anymore, almost dying has always had that kind of effect on relationships, but when he hands you your portion you still can’t meet his eyes, thinking of the conversation you had before entering the city.

---

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Huh?” Yoongi looks anywhere but in your direction.

Now you’re feeling even more wary. It took Herculean courage for you to even ask, now he’s going to make you ask again?

“Nevermind.”

You walk away from the rapper, back to tending to your horse while the large animals rest. You couldn’t help but notice the rapper has been rather aloof around you, more than usual, since kissing you. You tried not to take it personally, to not feel hurt every time he seemed to quickly shut down any conversation you start with him, but ugh, why did he go and kiss you then if he was just going to act like this?! 

It takes you all morning, right before the group is about to start your travels again, when you confront Yoongi one last time.

“Why did you kiss me?” You mutter, hoping he would respond this time. ‘Just say it was the heat of the moment,’ you think, so you can both move on, get over it. So you can accept it was just a one time thing, a moment of weakness, you would never hold it against Yoongi, but this, the way he’s acting now, you definitely do have a problem with!

Unfortunately, ears whom you hadn’t intended to hear perked up at the new information.

“You kissed y/n?” Hoseok crashes in between the pair of you.

“No, I didn’t!” Yoongi hisses immediately.

“You didn’t?” Hoseok tilts his head.

“He didn’t.” You repeat quietly.

“But you just said-”

“I didn't say that!” you laugh incredulously. “You misheard me. I asked why did he pick me… PICK me, is what I meant.”

“Pick you for what?” Hoseok looks between both of you in disbelief.

“Uhh…” you hesitate, trying to come up with something credible while Yoongi takes the opportunity to scurry away. “Pick me for the um next night shift-”

“He picked you? But you always volunteer,” Hoseok says accusingly.

“Okay, well, this time, I didn’t. And so uh I wanted the night off. Anyways, it doesn’t matter anymore! I don’t care! forget it!” you ramble angrily, making Hoseok back away this time. 

Yoongi waits by the car while you glare at him. He’s definitely ignoring you now, like you’re some deranged saesang, and it’s annoying as hell! He kissed you, didn’t he? Yes, you might have kissed him back, and…

You remember the way you melted into him, Yoongi’s body pressed against yours, the way you chased his lips, how you wanted more. You shouldn’t have done that. You shouldn’t have…liked it so much…dammit! Why did he kiss you?!

Yoongi answers you the next day. “It was a mistake. I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers to you, bumping into your shoulder. 

You wince. “So you kissed me, by accident?” you ask.

“I shouldn’t have done it. I thought you had died, and, I…I don’t know…” Yoongi looks around anxiously, gaze stopping on Seokjin who is animatedly giving reasons why he shouldn’t have to sit in the back of the car this time.

You grind your teeth. This is the answer you wanted, why do you feel so crestfallen? “I understand.”

“You do?”

You look over at Yoongi. “Yes,” you smile wearily. “How do I say this? I get it, you wouldn’t normally have done that under normal circumstances with someone like me, I just wanted to make sure...” you pause. “So you want to forget it? Okay!” you say resolutely, “I’ll pretend it never happened.” You give him a more confident grin.

Your smile falls when you notice his red ears and tinged cheeks. “Yoongi?”

Yoongi looks like he’s holding his breath, holding something in for sure. “That’s not-” Yoongi cautiously lifts his arm up, knuckles touching the side of your face.

“Yoongi?” you repeat, holding your breath.

He almost looks like he might kiss you again, almost…but he turns his heel and walks back to the car, taking a seat in the back and settling an argument between Jin and Taehyung.

You frown, crossing your arms, you guess he is going to expect you to forget that just happened as well, you sigh, frown deepening. 

Maybe you are being delusional, he answered your question, you should just leave it at that, you think. You have bigger things to worry about.

-

You spent days pushing the car, hoping to find an exit to a gas station. All that energy wasted.

“You’ve been ignoring me.” Yoongi accuses under his breath.

You have not not been doing anything of the sort! You still acknowledge Yoongi’s presence, just like you do that asshole Dev, yeah.

You frown. “You have been acting weird,” you cross your arms. All day every day you can feel Yoongi’s eyes boring into the back of your head when you talk to the others, and yet he refuses to even look in your direction when you get anywhere near him! 

“I have not!”

“Well then I haven’t been ignoring you!”

Yoongi sighs. “Well it's clear to the others something is up between us and that is exactly what I was trying to avoid.”

You narrow your eyes on him. You think you finally understand him, Yoongi was ashamed of kissing you. You want to yell at him, but you can’t…not when you feel something akin to disappointment clawing at your insides, a small voice inside you confirming all your insecurities.

“Why would there be something up? Nothing is up, absolutely nothing,” you frown. 

“Stop.”

“I can’t stop because I haven’t started.”

“You are so annoying sometimes.” His hand holds your jaw, thumb rubbing the dirt away from your face tenderly.

You flinch away, “Is that why you didn’t kiss me?”

“Listen, I just don’t want to burden you-”

“Well, I’m very unburdened, can’t you tell? I mean, what could burden me? I have all the food I could want,” you say sarcastically, “I’m not running from monsters that want to eat me alive and I certainly don't care that you did not kiss me!” you hiss.

Yoongi covers your mouth. “Are you guys okay?” Jungkook says hesitantly, walking up to the pair of you.

Yoongi pulls his hands away as if he were burned. You roll your eyes at him, trying to not focus on the sharp pain in your chest, daggers embedding themselves inside you, each one confirming your worst insecurities. 

“Everything is great, Kookie,” you say, acting sweeter than your usual self, grabbing the youngest and leading him away before either man notices your watery eyes. 

---

“You can rest against me,” Namjoon murmurs, watching as you sway and try to keep your head up as the others sleep.

You laugh softly, “If I do that, I will definitely fall asleep. When I’m close to you, you make me feel safe. And I get sleepy,” you add, yawning. You rest your head on the wall, smiling back when he smiles. “Ahh, see, I can’t look at you,” you shake your head, trying to shake away your tiredness too.

“So you’re not all the way over there because I smell?” Namjoon pulls at your sleeve, trying to coax you closer.

“You smell? Damn, I must smell horrible then.” You sniff your worn and tattered clothes. 

“I saw a well outside, we can take advantage of it tomorrow, get some water to clean ourselves up.”

“A bath?” you wonder out loud, unable to hide your excitement. “Finally,” you sigh.

“Well err it’s gonna have to be a cold bath-”

“Mhm. A bath.” You ignore his warning, nothing can change your excitement. Let it be freezing cold, you will happily soak yourself until your fingers shrivel up.

After a while Namjoon speaks up again. “I think maybe we should stay here for a bit. Once the zombies disperse, we can go out for supplies, maybe scout for a better house to crash.”

“Here, in the city? For how long?”

“Maybe,” he hesitates. “A couple weeks? Or…a couple…months?”

“M-Months?!” you gasp, surprised.

“Look at them.” He gestures to the bodies sleeping on the floor around you, none of them wanted to leave the room for the beds, no one wanted to lose sight of each other. “We need to rest, we need supplies…we need to build ourselves back up.”

“Shouldn’t we, um, get out of Hongcheon first?” you ask worriedly. “I feel like…these monsters here are…different. They seem more relentless, don’t you feel?” you groan, thinking aloud. “Why are they so energetic? We’re the live ones! Shouldn’t it be the other way around?” They seem…well fed, you think, grimacing. “You think it’s a good idea to stay?”

“I don’t know.” Namjoon looks around anxiously at his friends, worried for their safety. “I don’t know.”

“Okay,” you whisper, reaching for his hand, you stroke his knuckles soothingly, deciding to follow Namjoon’s plan. “We’ll stay here for a while, and take it day by day. As long as we’re together, that’s what is most important, right?”

Namjoon lets out the breath he was holding, relaxing now that he had your support. In truth, he was too scared to move forward right now. He just needs some time, and Namjoon feels the whole group might do well with some rest too. You have all been in flight mode since first entering Hongcheon. Even you have chosen to forgo fighting, overwhelmed by the hoards of zombies and responsibilities to your friends.

-

Namjoon shakes Taehyung awake as second shift starts. Jimin rubs his tired eyes, sitting next to you, ready to take your place. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you whisper.

He nods his head to the group cuddled together like sardines, “Go rest, I got it from here.”

You hesitate. It’s becoming harder and harder to sleep. You dreaded the moments where you weren’t awake and alert for danger. Jimin sees your hesitation, he opens up his arms, “Do you want to stay with me until you’re ready to fall asleep?” You nod, relaxing slightly. 

Jimin is too good to you, it just makes you worry more, it just adds another dagger full of guilt sticking out from your chest. It all feels so heavy. You sink into Jimin, sorry to him for everything you’ve put him through. He hugs you back so tenderly you want to cry.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

Jimin smiles, enjoying your warmth against him. You cling onto him, cuddled to his side, keeping your head buried into your chest, scared if you look at Jimin you’ll do something you regret, already so desperate to make him happy. But you can’t give into your feelings. You cannot bear to think how frightened you would become then.

---

“Is it true? Is it true? You…you…YOU’RE SO BEAUTIFUL THAT I’M SCARED.”

The road was abandoned, everything around you was at a standstill since that fateful day, only the trees danced with you, swaying in the wind. You let your bike zig and zag as you hummed one of your favorite songs happily. 

There were cars still on the road but the engines had long ago stalled out, the drivers ran away. 

It was so quiet. It was calm…peaceful even, serene…

And if there was a noise, it would likely be a member of the undead gurgling for brains. Noise now only served as a warning. 

You bike slowly, looking around at the bright landscape in awe. It had been too long since you saw green, trees, grass, flowers... 

Stuck in the airport for months you had become used to dirt and tarmac, withered plants in pots and only weeds surviving. But now you realized, lots of things survived. It was so beautiful, mesmerizing.

And you were about to be even more mesmerized.

“Oh my god, oh my god!” you laugh, biking fast before coming to a complete stop. “Y-You’re alive!”

The stranger looks at you, mouth agape. 

You kick your bike stand out, running up to him. “Oh! You don’t understand me!” you quickly switch to Korean. “Sorry! Hi, good afternoon! I didn’t mean to frighten you! I’m just– wow– I’m surprised! I haven’t seen another person in...I just...hi!” You resist the urge to hug him, noticing how skittish he already seems, instead bowing ninety degrees. “My name is y/n. Are you okay?”

“You…you speak Korean.”

“You do too, lucky us,” you laugh awkwardly. 

He looks around, shuffling from side to side. “Where did you come from, foreigner? Are you alone? Do you have any food?”

Your smile slowly falls. You had gotten too excited, you hadn’t paid attention, hadn’t noticed his dirty clothes hanging off his very thin frame, the shiftiness in his attitude, the strange look in his eyes, he didn’t seem…well. 

“N-No, I, uh…I came from the airport.” You look behind you, back in the direction you came from.

It only took a second for you to take your eyes off him, and in that second the man decided to attack.

“Hey!” You stumble backward as he tries to pull off your backpack. “Get off! Stop!”

You were used to zombies attacking you, trying to bite you. If it had been a zombie, you would have yanked out your knife before even thinking, stopped the monster immediately and been on your way. 

But a human attacking you? Someone living? 

It caught you so off guard you couldn’t react. You fall on the ground trying to get away.

The stranger lunges at your bike instead, still standing abandoned by you. You scramble to your feet, grabbing on to the handle bars as he tries to mount your bike. 

You start hitting him with your fist, yanking on the bike in between punches to get it away from him. 

‘Is this really happening?!’ you think. You just met and he’s trying to steal your bike?!’

He starts hitting you back, yelling in his weakened efforts. That noise was too similar, and you were bitterly reminded of the airport. You grunt, getting winded from your fighting. Yanking hard on your bike, you maneuver it out of his grasp, only for him to attack you again. 

Even in his weakened state, his adrenaline had managed to make him strong and combative. If you’re not careful, you could get seriously injured, probably left for dead, without your bike, without anyone, dying alone and abandoned…

Again?! Fuck this, fuck him!

You put your knife against his throat and he finally stops trying to attack you. You tried to sound threatening when you told him to stop. But the truth was you were terrified, more terrified than you had ever been at the airport. What if he decided to not listen to you? You didn’t think you could go through with it, you couldn’t kill this man.

“Stop! Get away!” you plead, screaming.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m so hungry, I’m sorry! I won’t hurt you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He bows his head, wailing.

You try to steady your hand, but the knife shakes in your grasp. You’ve stopped fighting each other but you can’t seem to catch your breath.

You roll the bike further away from him, arm still outstretched, pointing the knife at him in warning. Your eyes sting with unshed tears, wanting to cry.

You’re sorry too. 

---

You startle, even when Namjoon whispers your name, squeezing your shivering body. “Huh?” You’re lying next to him, you cannot remember when you’ve moved here.

“You were crying in your sleep,” Namjoon says in a concerned hushed voice.

You rub your eyes in your tiredness. It was true, your eyes felt puffy, your cheeks sticky with tears.

You turn your head to look at him, and he looks back at you, concern etched across his brows. Twilight has begun and soon the sun will be up. You sigh, you felt safer in the dark and safest next to Namjoon and the others.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just had a bad dream.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“I was dreaming about my bike,” you laugh half-heartedly.

But Namjoon doesn’t laugh. “We all…have them, the nightmares-”

“I know.”

“So you can talk to me..us about it. You don’t have to always keep everything in. It’s not healthy.”

“Okay Doctor Kim.”

Namjoon sighs. He’s too cute when his brows furrow, his hair sticking up from sleeping, you can’t help but giggle. “The monsters I dream about aren’t the dead kind,” you whisper. “Sometimes, I just-” you sigh, “-feel like running away.”

“Run away from us? I would track you down,” Namjoon says.

You can’t help but smile, closing your eyes. “I won’t, I’d be too worried you’ll get yourselves killed without me.” 

He reaches for your cheek, lying his tired arm against you. “I’m scared,” you mumble.

“Why?”

“We’re going to run into more people eventually, what if next time…something horrible happens? Sometimes I feel like I made a mistake. I should have stayed away.” You think back to the first time you encountered him again. “At the time I wanted to hurt you, I wanted revenge, and then…” you mumble, reaching for him in the darkness. “People..are dangerous. You were safer with Kanhgo on the farm.” ‘Maybe everything about this was a mistake, not just Yoongi kissing you,’ you want to tell him.

“I think we met at the right time. You don’t know how it was before, we were all...too close to death, too friendly to the idea, to dying. It was in that house, sitting with us, all the time. Do you understand? You saved m– us.”

You don’t hear what he says next, already falling under sleep, too content next to Namjoon despite the looming danger outside. 

Namjoon stares at your closed eyelids and relaxes, scooting closer to your sleeping frame.

---

You wake up out of breath, body shaking. You couldn’t remember your dream, but from your pounding heart rate, your sweat drenched clothes, and the dread you feel lifting away, you suspect it was awful. You jump when arms grab you, pull you in and hug you tightly. 

“You’re okay.” You hear Jimin mumble against your shoulder, soft and soothing.

You see Namjoon still asleep next to you. The day is out. It’s only the four of you left asleep, the others already awake and going through the house.

“Go back to sleep,” Jimin murmurs. But you can’t, not with all that adrenaline coursing through you now, so you watch Namjoon’s peaceful sleeping face, so close to you. You start memorizing his frown lines and birthmarks and cuts still healing, calming yourself down. 

You make a promise to yourself that when you reach Seoul, when Namjoon finds his family, when you eventually go your separate ways, you’re never going to forget him just like this, your friend and your idol trusting you enough to sleep peacefully while death now stands outside.

---

You raid the town’s fire department in the morning. 

No firetruck anymore to your disappointment. 

But there was an axe left behind in haste, some canned food, bandages and antiseptic; incredibly valuable finds. You grab as many helmets as you can carry, intent on sticking them on a few members’ heads. 

“Hobi!” you call out, “Come here!” Hoseok finds you and lets you dress him up in your newly acquired gear. 

It is just as you suspected, you sigh, head in your palms as you watch Hoseok clog around in heavy boots, rolling up the jacket sleeves.

Hoseok would make the. hottest. firefighter.

 Man, you wish selfies were still a thing.

“What are you guys doing?

You drop a helmet onto Taehyung’s head. “Nothing,” you smile. 

“Alright, enough playing around.” Namjoon says, coming back with a full backpack. You pout, pulling off the huge firefighter jacket you found and offering it to Namjoon, hopeful. He eyes the jacket. “C’mon, it’s definitely your size!” 

“Firefighters your thing, eh?” Seokjin rounds a corner. He looks so dashing decked out in uniform. 

“...Maybe.” you tease. 

“Help!” That’s Jungkook’s voice.

He’s stuck in a corner, fighting off two of the largest zombies you’ve ever seen.

These particular zombies, not only look massive and strong, they are also wearing helmets, protecting their most vulnerable spot, and the exact area you need to access to stop their attack.

How the hell are you going to kill them?!

The axe! Namjoon swings it into one of the zombie’s shoulders, completely dislocating the entire arm, while Jungkook keeps his bat lodged in the zombies’ mouths. 

Namjoon brings the axe down again and again, as if he were hacking at a tree. You grimace, you definitely could not use what came off as firewood. “This is so gross.” You look down at what remains, two heads still animatedly trying to bite your shins.

“Sorry,” you wince, stabbing the heads through the eye quickly.

As you sneak your way back to the house, Taehyung decides to ask you, “Why do you always do that?”

You massage your neck, “Do what?”

“Say you’re sorry. You always do it.”

You smile sadly. “Because I am sorry. It’s not their fault, you know. I am sure a man like that always wanted to help people, not eat them.”

‘Man,’ Taehyung certainly did not consider what that firefighter was reduced to, to be anything close to man. “Well I don’t think they understand you.” 

“Hey! My Korean is not that bad!”

Taehyung bumps your shoulder, “You know what I mean!” he laughs.

“Maybe, maybe not,” you sigh. “Their ears are still there, why wouldn’t they understand? Do you think they aren’t in there anymore?”

“I hope not.” Taehyung shudders.

“I guess we’ll never know until we become one…” you hum.

“Kill me before then.” Taehyung mutters.

You offer him your hand, “Deal.”

“If I become a zombie, put a muzzle on me and keep me as a pet.” Seokjin drapes his arms over you and Taehyung.

“Deal!”

“No way!”

“What about you, y/n?”

“If I become a zombie?” You catch Namjoon staring at you. “I don’t know,” you think back to the airport. “I like to think I would be able to you know, but when it comes down to it, I don’t think I could kill myself…” you shrug. “But if I try to eat you, you do have my permission to-” you swing your arm back and forth, aiming for Seokjin’s head, laughing when he yells at you.

---

“What if we go this way? Closer to the river? That might be safer?”

“What about the school?”

“No, that’s usually where the town would find shelter. If just one of them was bitten…I think we should avoid this whole area.”

“What’s this word?” you point to the character on the small map. You, Namjoon, and Yoongi are looking over the withered piece of paper, trying to find the best place to find shelter before night.

“That’s like a, ‘Government Building.’” Namjoon answers in English. “A town hall.”

“What about that church?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea either.”

“What about this street, with all the stores? We could find a place to stay there. Close to supplies? And close to water!”

“Look! Military base.” Yoongi points to the map.

“That’s so far.”

“Tire shop? We could find a running car?”

“Y/n, can we talk?”

“Jimin, just wait,” Namjoon answers for you, stepping closer to you as you study the map.

You rub your temples. Your head hurts trying to decipher the map, speaking Korean rather than reading it has always been easier for you. “Wherever you want to go, I’ll go.” you massage Namjoon’s shoulder, stepping away. You switch positions with Jin as you make your way to Jimin.

-

“Where’s Jungkook and Tae?”

“Working on the well.”

“Should we go watch them? Stand guard?”

Jimin pulls you back, “They got it, we already made sure it’s safe.”

“Oh, alright,” you tilt your head at him, he’s acting a bit impatient. “Are you okay?”

“I just…you’re always– it’s hard to get your attention,” Jimin swallows.

“What? Well, I’m here now,” you say softly, running your hand down Jimin’s arm until you reach his hand, squeezing it with your own.

Jimin squeezes your hand back. “Come with me,” he says more confidently. Jimin leads you back into the house, inside a bedroom, and then inside…the closet? You stumble into boxes full of someone else’s treasured memories.

“Well the closet wouldn’t have been my first choice.”

“I just wanted uninterrupted time with you.” In this small house, hiding away might be the only way Jimin could be with you alone. “I just want to make sure we definitely won’t be bothered,” Jimin sighs, leaning into clothes.

Clothes! You lean against him, picking a shirt off the hanger. You’re so excited by your find, you don’t notice how tense Jimin gets when your body presses up against him. “This would look good on you!” you hold up the shirt you chose.

Jimin takes a deep breath. “Y/n…”

You freeze when you catch his eyes. “Jimin…”

Oh god, why did you say his name like that? All breathy and high pitched and…needy…oh no, why does he have to look at you like that?!

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jimin murmurs, smirking.

Wait, how are you looking at him? You didn’t have very much of a poker face, despite what you thought. “Huh?”

Why does his lips have to be so soft when he kisses you? How does his tongue do that thing-

“Jimin, we can’t,” you step back.

You definitely did not mean to pull him back with you.

He chuckles against your lips, kissing you deeper.

“Wait.” You are suddenly very aware of how hot and cramped you were. You find the door knob, grateful for the new space to clear your head. “W-We really can’t. We should– We shouldn’t! We shouldn’t-” Why can’t you catch your breath?!

“We definitely shouldn’t,” he jokes, resting his hand on the bed’s post.

You exhale, looking at the empty bed. Not doing things with Jimin sounds very appealing. But you can’t! Why “can’t” you again? Oh yeah-

You sit on the bed, looking up at Jimin.

Jimin who is looking down at you with that tiny pleased smirk he can’t stop showing.

You stand up abruptly. No, a relationship was too risky, even if the threat of being eaten didn’t loom over your heads. And what if...

What if Jimin got tired of you, came to his senses once he reached Seoul and had more options? 

“I thought we agreed to wait until Seoul-”

Waiting looks like the very last thing Jimin wants to do. “What if I don't make it to Seoul?!”

“Don’t say that!” you hiss. Why did he have to say that? Now you feel like crying. You must have looked upset, because Jimin is now looking at you with a mixture of confusion and worry. 

Jimin hugs you close, arms wrapped around you tightly, like he knows you will fall apart if he doesn’t. His lips are trembling against your neck, you can feel your own body trembling against his. 

You are not strong enough to resist him. 

“Please Jimin, all I’m saying is you might feel differently once we get to Seoul-”

“I won’t-”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.”

It’s easier to speak when you are looking away from Jimin. “Everything that’s happened…that is happening, it’s easy to, you know, want to feel something other than fear or loneliness,” you swallow. “And I’m convenient to do that with,” you let your hands drop away from his embrace. “I feel like we’re just using each other, and once it’s not convenient, you won’t want me anymore. That’s why I wanted to wait.” 

“I’m not using you, y/n!”

You look up at the ceiling to keep from crying. You weren’t from a rich family, or famous, you weren’t gifted, you weren’t special. You would have never been more than a fan to them had the world not gone to shit…

They left you alone.

You don't forget that, that nagging feeling always in the pit of your stomach, always tight around your chest when you notice one of them giving you that look, the one Jimin is giving you right now. The look Yoongi gave you after he said what a “mistake” it was kissing you.

And if you let Jimin kiss you again, have you on this bed, could you handle it if he tells you someday later, those exact words? You’re overcome with a weird feeling. Are you okay with that? 

He’s looking at your lips.

Maybe you should. Fuck it. Yolo. Or whatever.

Can you push away those feelings?

Is...that what Yoongi did to you?

“Is everything okay?”

“Go away Namjoon!” Jimin yells as you pull away from one another as the bedroom door opens.

“What? Excuse me, Park Jimin?” Namjoon is staring at your distressed anxious expression. “What the hell is going on?”

“It’s fine. I-I’m fine. I…I need some air.”

Jimin grabbed your arm. He didn’t want to let you go, he knew you had a penchant for being reckless, and especially if you were about to go outside, he was definitely going to put a stop to it. 

It probably sounded like a whimper, the sound you made when Jimin held you again, the way Namjoon was right by your side in an instant. “Let her go, Jimin!” He warns, holding both yours and Jimin’s arms.

“Kim Namjoon, why do you let her put herself in danger all the time?!”

“WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME, PARK JIMIN?”

You wince at Namjoon’s booming voice so close to your ear. You hear footsteps rushing towards the room, so you rip yourself away from both men’s grasp.

Well, you just locked yourself in the closet. You just did that.

The men stare at the closed door for a while. They hear your muffled voice yell back, “I’m fine! I just need some time alone…in here. I won't go outside, I promise!”

---

You finally leave the closet when Seokjin knocks softly on the door telling you dinner is ready. You carry a box full of clothes, shirts and pants for each man to try on, and a new outlook on things after shifting through old keepsakes, a collection of items that told a story of a couple who must have been together for decades. You want that. But that kind of life, like old movie tickets, developed film, and festival prizes, that kind of blissful happiness was not possible for anyone anymore.

“Do we have water?” you ask Jungkook. He looks exhausted.

“Drinking water, yes.”

“What about…cleaning water?” you ask, hopeful. 

“What about soap?” Jungkook asks.

You smile wide, clapping your hands together, pulling out everything you found and setting it up in a neatly filed line in front of Jungkook. “You have first pick, of course, if you get me that water,” you smile deviously.

Jungkook grabs the shampoo and conditioner combo. “You will have it all set up for you tomorrow when you get back from scouting.”

“Yay!” You give the youngest the tightest biggest hug you could muster up. “Oh! Maybe I should wait until after I bathe to give you a hug-”

“No! Hug now, and hug tomorrow!” Jungkook squeezes the air out of you. You giggle, despite not being able to inhale.

---

“Are you still mad at me?” Yoongi asks wearily, finally speaking up. “I’m sorry-”

“You don’t have to apologize, Yoongi.” You dig through the neighboring house’s kitchen, handing Yoongi the cans of food you found. “I’ll just try not to act so irresistible next time,” you joke, in brighter spirits, winking at the idol.

Yoongi places the items in his pack, relieved you weren’t giving him the cold shoulder.

“Oh, thanks,” he says sarcastically. “You’ve been doing a pretty good job though with that smell.”

“Okay, mister! Oh look, I found some food for you!” You throw him some cat food, laughing.

“I expect a two course meal tonight,” you tease, after finding spam and more canned veggies.

“I’ll make sure to prepare a second course all for you with the cat food you found.”

“Ew!” You shove him playfully. “I guess I won’t share my dessert with you then.”

“What dessert?”

“You think these are still good?” You pull out a full box of chocopie from your pack. You smile in satisfaction at Yoongi’s stunned face. 

“I guess I will have to make you a three course meal then,” Yoongi says, making you smile wider.

A noise makes you jump, and Yoongi instinctively covers your body with his. You force your head under his arm, unwilling to let him sacrifice himself for you.

“Stay behind me!” Yoongi hisses.

“No, you stay behind me!”

Yoongi shoves you with all his strength away from the noise closing in. It catches you off guard as you stumble backward, you hadn’t expected Yoongi to use so much force.

So you jump on his back, sending him stumbling and crashing into a very nice looking cabinet...full of glass wear.

Two of the biggest racoons you’ve ever seen in your life scurry out of the shadows and past you and Yoongi, making you squeal and tighten your grip around the rapper.

Yoongi sighs, freezing against you when he realizes his hands are holding your thighs.

“Next time just get behind me,” you mumble.

“No fucking way.”

You should be mad at him, but you can’t help but smile.

Yoongi should be mad at you, but all his anger dissipates seeing your smile.

You pass by a record player on your way out. “Yoongi! Do you think we could make it work?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “It needs electricity.”

“You can’t just turn the record with your finger?” You sound so desperate to hear music.

“The speakers won’t work without electricity. Sorry, y/n.”

You nod, crestfallen. Yoongi hides his disappointment too, the rapper wishes most of all to hear music again. You grab a pile of records, “just in case,” you say, hoping one day to find a way to play them. It makes Yoongi sad and happy all at once. He wouldn’t have done that, had any hope like that to begin with. 

You both walk back to your new found home quietly, but now shoulder to shoulder.

You gasp, making Yoongi pause. “Oh! Look at that. The wall-”

Vine had grown all over the concrete fence. Between the two panels, vegetation had come in between them and on the sides, and now the gray that could still be seen resembled-

“It looks like the Army logo!” you laugh happily.

Yoongi looks at you. His eyes seem lost and far away and so reverent, and at the same time, he looks at you with that same reverence.

And Yoongi knows he shouldn’t. Not after Seokjin had confessed to him his growing feelings for you, or when Jimin looks at you so longingly during those moments you’re not looking.

Not after Yoongi had noticed the way his leader always gravitates to your side, and Jungkook’s red ears and wide smile when you give him your undivided attention. Yoongi knows there was already enough discontent in the group. He shouldn’t feel the same way.

But you’ve wound yourself around him like those branches. 

You’ve grown on the rapper, your attitude and your kindness and your strength and your smile. He feels it, that excitement when he looks at the hidden symbol, only for a second, only because of you, and he’s grateful to you. 

Your eyes follow his gaze, looking at him in excitement over such a small thing, a small sign that meant…still means so much to him…so much it hurts to remember. It hurts to think about what he had and what he lost. You mean so much to him. And he can’t lose you too.

Your eyes sparkle before they turn questioning, and before you can ask, Yoongi is already kissing you.

Your eyes widen, and your hand presses against his chest. Yoongi’s muscles are hard against your palm and makes you gasp how solid and warm he feels. He kisses you deeper, quickly, indulgently before he makes himself pull away.

You're both breathing hard, you look at him surprised, mouth agape, your lips still tingling from his contact.

He did it right in front of the house.

And right in front of his bandmates, waiting for both of you to return. 

Shit, he thinks. Where did all his control go?! He wishes he could blame you, after all the things you do to make his heart burst so much he bursts to feel you.

He makes a quick apology before turning away from you. He knows he’s fucked up again when he feels your grip on his shoulder as you try to pull him back unsuccessfully and your silence following.

Maybe somewhere deep down he wanted you to chase him, and somewhere deeper he was disappointed you didn’t.

---

“Someone kissed you, someone here kissed you?! One of my brothers kissed you?!”

“No! No, no.” You say rather unconvincingly in Jimin’s opinion. 

“...”

“Yes?”

“So? Who was it? I know it wasn’t Jungkook or Taehyung because they were the ones whispering about it.”

You groan inwardly. “Well it doesn’t really matter, because he didn’t mean to, but um, it was– and he regrets it! I think. Well he definitely regretted the first time-” you mumble, annoyed.

“First?! As in, this was the second time?!”

“Uhhhh…”

“Did you kiss him back?”

“...”

Jimin sighs, rubbing his eyes. “So that’s why you didn’t want to be with me,” he laughs bitterly.

“What! No! Well yes…but not for that reason! Ugh! Jimin please,” you inhale deeply, “Yoongi regretted it as soon as it happened. I just didn’t want you…if we had done more, I didn’t want you to feel stuck with me once we reached Seoul,” you sigh.

“YOONGI KISSED YOU? TWICE?!”

“Eh? No? Yes?”

“You do know zombies are attracted to noise, right?!”

“Shut up, Dev!”

Taehyung and Jungkook, the cause of this commotion (because it was definitely not you and Yoongi) pull Jimin away. 

“Maybe you should go check the bathroom, y/n,” Jungkook pleads.

You don’t have to be told twice. You nod, at a loss for words.

-

You stare at the half filled plastic tub situated in the middle of the bathroom, contemplating on drowning yourself. 

It would certainly make things easier for the group. You decide probably not the best thing to do at the moment and pull off your shirt.

The door opens mid undress, and you decide to just pull off the dirtied material anyways.

“Oh shit, sorry! I thought you might have been done already.”

“Oh, I was…preoccupied.” Interrogated, more like it, you sigh. You cover your chest with the dirtied shirt, staring at BTS leader, Kim Namjoon, who looks sheepishly at his feet. “You wanted to use the water?” you ask hesitantly.

“No,” he lies, “We already washed up.”

“You did a shit job.” You notice his hair is still a little bit greasy.

Namjoon laughs. “Well Jungkook is rationing water like a maniac, we were only allowed a bowl full each.”

You suddenly feel horrible looking at the tub full of water you were about to use. “I’m sorry, that’s not fair, you can use the water first.”

“No, no! You deserve it out of all of us.”

“What?! No I don’t!” you exclaim, pulling Namjoon to the tub and heading for the door.

“Hold up, Jungkook will murder me if you don’t use this water,” Namjoon laughs.

You pause. Grabbing a towel and soaking it, you squirt soap across it. “Well…you need it more,” you smile half heartedly, holding the towel out for him to take. “Please.”

Namjoon sighs, pausing at the door. 

He shuts it.

-

You sit on the closed toilet, suddenly realizing the situation you’ve put yourself in as Namjoon pulls off his shirt. He takes the towel from you, holding it to his face and sighing.

Where did your shirt go?! Should you go put a shirt back on? Should you leave and give him privacy? Or maybe you should stay very very still in hopes he forgets you’re still here. You glance over at Namjoon, trying not to stare as he wipes his chest.

Namjoon bends over your lap, wetting the towel again.

“Do you want help with your err back?” you ask.

Namjoon looks over at you. He hasn’t said a word since he’s closed the door. He simply nods, turning his back to you.

You notice all the scars littered across his torso and arms. It's sad what this new world does to you, you can’t escape it no matter who you are.

You wipe down his spine and across, over a particularly deep looking scar. It’s so close to his spleen, it must have been a scary situation. “How did you get that one?” 

“I think it was when we were running through the woods after our first lake run. We hadn’t anticipated so many of them. I fell down and got jabbed by a branch, went in pretty deep,” he grunts, remembering the pain and having to get back up and keep running even as blood seeped out of his gash.

“Clumsy,” you tsk. Namjoon chuckles, back to being silent. So you tell him to lean over the tub. You cup water in your palms to wet his hair and you grab some of your shampoo.

He sighs as your nails massage the soap into his scalp, his arm absentmindedly holding your leg. You tell yourself it's so his clumsy self stays steady.

You pick up a cup and let the water run through his hair. “Don’t tell the others I did that for you, they might get mad at me.” You wonder just how mad Jimin currently is.

He shakes his head, flinging water at you, nodding happily. You laugh, looking away. His pants are soaking. 

“Thank you.”

“I can leave, so you can finish cleaning your body,” you mumble.

“Or,” Namjoon says softly, “you could stay.”

That makes you look up. Namjoon stands upright, he looks so tense and wound up. You are faring no better, and this was supposed to be a relaxing experience! 

“Do you want me to stay?” you ask slowly.

“Yes.” Namjoon says without missing a beat.

“Okay. So, I’ll stay,” you swallow.

“I can help you too, wash your back.” 

You scoff. But he’s serious.

You have gotten very close to them, spending every waking minute with them, falling asleep in their arms, you’ve lost count how many times it’s happened. You try to always tell yourself it’s what you must do to survive, that’s all there is to it. That sort of familiarity was a kind of preservation.

This is probably the closest thing you’ve done with the leader. And the way he looks at you, with such a soft look in his eyes, making you second guess yourself, that mantra just doesn’t seem to fit this time. 

You decidedly turn around, reaching for your bra clasp. Namjoon undoes it quickly, easily, surprising you.

Now it's Namjoon’s turn to look over the scars littering your body. They look deep and painful.

He touches one in particular. It’s a miracle you lived. 

He holds his hand there, over the scar, palm resting on your side. Your heart feels like it’s pumping a thousand beats per minute.

He delicately runs the towel across your shoulder blades as you cross your arms over your chest.

You shiver when the cold cloth touches your skin. “I told you it was going to be cold,” Namjoon laughs. “You wanted to soak in that.”

“I’ll still do it,” you say stubbornly, getting used to the cool sensation.

You turn around once he seems to have gone over your back three times over. You were both topless, however you kept yourself covered with your arms. You didn’t protest when he wiped your neck and collar bone. You were concentrating on not making any noise at all actually, worried for the sounds that might come out.

Namjoon was taking deeper breaths, through and out his nose.

You wondered what kind of reaction he would have if you dropped your hands.

You also wondered how long it’s been since Namjoon has seen a woman’s body up close like this. You had already noticed how his eyes kept glancing down at your cleavage every other second. It’s been a long time since someone has seen you naked.

It would be like a thank you. 

Were you really thinking about flashing the idol?!

But Namjoon…has become more. Felt like more…he was more to you. He’s more special to you than you could have possibly imagined.

Also you just kind of want to see his reaction. You chuckle.

Namjoon quirks his head, a small smile surfacing. “What?”

Oh god, what’s wrong with you?! Was the thought of showing him your boobs that amusing to you?

“I just realized you’re the only person that can really see me like this.”

“Is that why you’re avoiding Jimin?” He asks.

“Part of the reason,” you mumble.

“The others will-”

“No.” You shut down whatever his suggestion might be. “You’re the only person I trust completely, Namjoon.”

He nods. “I trust you completely too.”

You shy away, turning back around. Hearing your words repeated back to you, you didn’t realize how…intimate it sounded.

You hear Namjoon unbuckling his belt. You didn’t know what to do, so you started unbuttoning your pants as well. For some reason, your brain thought if you were both naked, that would make it less awkward. The mind is a funny thing.

You let your pants drop. Your heart rate is now ringing inside your ears.

You stumble over to the small tub, standing in the middle, waiting, glancing over your shoulder to a very naked Namjoon, hands over his manhood.

“You’re not really gonna-”

“Oh, I definitely am.” You try to sound as confident as possible with your heart fully jumping outside your chest and your eyes staring directly at your toes. “You too?”

-

“How is it?”

“Freezing.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Whatever!” You cup some water and let it trickle down your front.

It’s cramped as hell, you’re trying very hard to ignore Namjoon’s naked member pressed up against your bum. The water is cold, but every place Namjoon's skin comes into contact with yours, warmth is radiating.

Namjoon smiles. You're spooned against his front, knees pulled to your chest. He has to reach down your legs to wet his towel again, running the damp cloth across his neck and shoulder. He relaxes against you, resting his head against the tub’s rim as you meticulously lather soap over your body and through your hair. He tries to remember what compelled him to do this with you. 

He wanted to be closer with you, and well now, he thinks there is no way he could possibly get any closer unless he jumped into your skin.

He didn’t want to leave you. Even though he knew he should have gone the moment he saw your shirt over your arms and your cleavage on display. He knew you were just being nice offering him your bath, but you looked at him eyes so pleadingly, half naked too, Namjoon wanted to stay with you, so he did.

He didn’t want you to leave him either. So he asked you to stay. He told himself, if you said no, then he wouldn’t push, he would accept that was going to be as close as he would be able to get for now. But then you stayed. He got what he wanted.

And now you were naked in his lap, happily splashing around while his balls froze, and Namjoon was exactly where he wanted to be. He probably shouldn’t feel so satisfied about it, but he’s been having to quietly deal with not being able to do what he truly wanted for so long…

“Well I’m having fun,” you laugh.

“Me too.”

“Y/n is that you?”

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. 

“Yeah, yeah it’s me. I’ll be out in a bit. I'm, um, busy!” You try to stand, but you have no footing.

“Oh okay!” Taehyung yells back. You listen for any sounds of movement. 

“I can’t find Hobi or Joon, do you know where they went?”

“No um no, I don’t know where Hobi OR JOON is! I don’t know, I’ll uhh help you look after I’m done…go away now– Close the bedroom door when you leave! I need to grab my clothes.”

Taehyung sees two large shirts on the bed. He likes the color of one. “You want them now?”

“NO! No no, I’m busy, you should leave. I can’t um concentrate with you there.”

“Okay okay.” Jeez. Taehyung pouts. It’s not like he hasn’t heard it all before. But women are touchy with things like that so he lets you have your privacy.

You had floundered like a fish, leaning over to make sure Taehyung could hear you, arm outstretched in case you needed to throw the door closed. You had completely forgotten your, very naked, predicament.

Two of those predicaments pressed right against Namjoon’s cheeks. 

Now you are very much understanding what you’ve done, and how rigid Namjoon is, trying not to think about you pressed up against him. And you notice how rigid something else is…..

You freeze in shock.

That doesn’t help Namjoon’s current situation.

“I can’t leave now. It will be too obvious,” Joon says, fighting every mortal urge inside him at this point.

You peel your breasts off him, falling out of the tub and onto slippery tile.

“I’ll leave!” Shit. Your own self restraint is hanging on by threads. You need alone time. How are you gonna get it here?

Fuck, it’s cold now, you’re missing Namjoon’s body against yours, you’re really missing it.

“Stay.”

“Namjoon, listen– oh,” you had intended to tell him the same thing you told Jimin, you hadn’t expected him to see him so...exposed.

Namjoo stood one foot out of the tub, skin wet and glistening, hand not so much covering much of anything as he gripped his very very erect cock.

Your mind goes blank. This was the first time you’ve seen him…that. Not in quick shy glances at the lake, not in unfocused looks, eyes downcast or upcast or anywhere but his fucking sexy body cast. You were shamelessly staring at the man in front of you, eyes wide open.

Namjoon looks so goddamn hot, so big. And you made him that hard, you can’t even bother to cover yourself, noticing his eyes looking hungrily at your bare chest as he runs his hand down his cock, gripping it tight. 

You look up at him, panting. Goddammit, he’s so goddamn hot, touching himself to your body. You might just hyperventilate right in front of him, but that would be super unsexy of you.

Namjoon runs his tongue across his bottom lip, grunting. Or was that a moan?!

You feel so wet, so burning up, you’re surprised the water hasn’t evaporated off your skin.

“If we…if we…we’re just helping each other. Like friends. We’re just…”

Namjoon nods, too horny to think straight anyways he’d agree to anything you said.

Namjoon doesn’t say anything, just bends down, laying his body over yours so you can feel his warmth against you again.

It was your first kiss with Namjoon. Previously, there were moments at night when his lips grazed your shoulder, a couple times against the crook of your neck, that you chose to believe was something sort of a reflex he would do half asleep, probably remembering someone who was not you, an action he never mentioned once morning came. But this kiss was so desperate, full of passion and want. His lips were strong and rough, his mouth was devouring you.

You reach between your legs, gripping his length finally. “Fuck, you’re so hard,” you moan, impressed. “I am so wet right now.”

“Oh fuck,” Namjoon whimpers.

Fuck! He whimpered! 

Yep. You’re gonna do it. There is no fucking way you’re gonna leave here without cuming. 

You arch your back into him, hand now moving furiously up and down his cock. He kisses you, tongue licking into your open mouth. His fingers meet yours as he reaches for your center. You bite back moans, closing your eyes as his digits dig into your thigh, hiking up one leg to open you up for his skilled fingers.

You gasp, catching his eyes, the way his brows furrow and his intense gaze, so very different from when he’s half asleep. His fingers reach in deep inside you, a sensation you haven’t felt in so long. You try to focus on his pleasure, running your hand up and down his length, finding a speed he responds to the most and trying your best to keep it up as you fall apart under his own ministrations.

You finally lose your very intense very sexy staring match when he curls his fingers into you, your eyes rolling back. “Fuck…yes…yes,” you groan.

Namjoon is close, kissing you when he finally reaches his high, silencing himself against your lips as you shudder against him.

He breathes heavily against you. He wanted to do more with you, it was too quick, he was too quick, he thinks cursing himself, even though he should have anticipated that kind of reaction to finally being touched by another person in so long. But time, like everything now, is scarce.

You stare up at the ceiling, post orgasm clarity hitting you like a ton of bricks. Did you just really do that?! It just all happened so fast, and now Namjoon is laying over you so heavy you can't move. Namjoon lifts himself up after catching his breath and you stare at each other.

You wonder what he’s thinking. You’re too embarrassed to ask. At least you’re in the perfect place to clean yourselves up.

---

You’ve all decided to move tonight, closer to the river, closer to Seoul. Everything is packed! You’re all ready, well fed, prepared. You should all be feeling pretty confident at this point. But everyone’s in a bad mood, tense, well almost everyone.

Taehyung is staring at Namjoon’s new shirt suspiciously and the way he seems way too relaxed about things, the way he stands right behind you, extremely close, bodies touching like...no way...

‘No, definitely not.’ Taehyung thinks...he hopes not. Damn, he should have taken that shirt when he had the chance! You catch Taehyung’s narrowed stare and immediately look away like you are hiding something. “How did you like it?” Jungkook walks up to you, staring at your freshly cleaned face, you are glowing.

“It was perfect, thank you so so much,” you whisper.

“Do you still have some of the soap you used? You smell good.” You giggle when his nose tickles the crook of your neck as he sniffs you, knocking him away playfully.

“Mhmm it’s not soap,” you say happily, “It’s lotion!”

Jungkook holds his hand out expectantly. “Boy, your skin is perfect, you do not need it, I do!”

“Noona, share!” Jungkook whines.

“Finders keepers! Fine, I’ll let you borrow some later, remind me,” you laugh.

Taehyung stares at Namjoon, who is cracking his knuckles, his jaw tensing as he watches Jungkook touch you playfully. Taehyung notices the way his leader’s eyes immediately soften when you look over your shoulder and call his name asking if he was ready, smiling. He smiles too.

‘Oh my god,’ Taehyung thinks.

-

The group decides to break up into pairs and one trio. Normally you would have said, hell no, that’s being-chased-by-monsters rule number one, never split up the group! 

But it was easier to move around this way, to hide quickly.

The first pair would make sure they had the second always in their sights and it would go down the line like that, so it was easy to alert the closest pair to any signs of danger and the message could get to the whole group no matter how far spread out.

And it was strategic, one pair could lure monsters away while the others slipped through. Another pair could help you escape. And if it came to the worst, at least it would only be a few, and not all of you…

Taehyung decides to step in when you and Namjoon want to be paired together, so that’s why you are currently holding hands with the baritone singer, crab walking behind a fence.

You pass by shops with Taehyung, looking through the store windows. You want to explore, you would have if you were alone. But now you were part of a group, with a group objective, and group members who were counting on you, so you move steadily forward. That would have been a cute outfit though.

Every once in a while the pair in front of you stops, sends you and Taehyung a series of hand gestures to translate. This time, you learn there are nine zombies at your ten o’clock. 

Taehyung lets Jin and Yoongi know, telling them to follow you and him to the right while Namjoon and Hoseok throw rocks, leading the monsters away.

Taehyung has been unusually quiet. You suspect he’s probably mad at you on behalf of Jimin, so you don’t push him to make small talk. Grudges become trivial in these kinds of situations anyways. 

You turn a corner and notice three zombies hunched near the remains of a food stall. 

You wonder, were they customers at some point in their lives? They don’t notice you and they are pretty far away, but could definitely become a problem later. You and Taehyung exchange looks. “I’ll handle it,” you say.

“I got your back,” he whispers, signaling for the others to wait and hide.

One, down, a middle aged woman missing a huge chunk of her calf, her eyes so clouded she couldn’t see anymore, just smelled you too late.

Two, down, a business man still wearing his work suit, a hole in his jacket and his intestines falling out, his jaw crooked, a limp in his walk, he was already falling apart before you destroyed him completely.

The third one, he only had one bite mark on his neck. His clothes were grimy, like everything else in this new world, but his skin still had a lively color. He looks like he was turned not even a day ago, and he’s fast. 

You fall down. Taehyung sinks his knife into the undead’s neck when he jumps on you, but the angle doesn’t hit where it needs to and the zombie turns his body to attack the idol. You grab the zombie at his ankles, giving Taehyung enough time to strike where it counts. Taehyung is shaken but okay. You are winded but okay.

You see the two eldest running towards your location and you hold up your hand to tell them not to worry. But they don’t stop, instead signaling you to hide. Taehyung pulls you up by the elbow and you run towards the empty stall.

“Grab that guy!”

“What?!”

“Hurry!” you hiss, yanking the now fully dead woman across the pavement.

One, Two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, you count. Did you hear that right? Ten different pairs of feet dragging across pavement, ten different tones, growling, passing by you and Taehyung, currently lying under a broken stall table, with two corpses covering you. They drag around you, bodies shadowed on the red plastic table cloth covering you and Taehyung.

You both stay hidden, taking short breaths, listening intently, fingers numb from holding each other. The plastic tablecloth keeps you hidden but also traps the heat in and doesn't give you any field of vision. God, it smells horrible, the smell of death. You squeeze Taehyung’s hand tighter, letting the pain take your mind off the stench. You notice sweat roll down his forehead as Taehyung scrunches up his nose, trying not to inhale the smell.

Taehyung looks at you, telling you to wait, because he already knows that you’re itching to leave, to run, to fight. He tightens his already crushing grip. 

“You remember what you promised me?” You promised Taehyung something? You look at him questioningly. “Before I become like them, kill me, so I don’t hurt my brothers.”

“We’re going to get out of here, okay?” Taehyung nods, very unconvinced. “Hobi and Joon, did you see where they ran?” Taehyung nods again, very not ready to leave. “I know you’re mad at me, but do you trust me?” Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“I’m not mad at you.” 

The growls can no longer be heard. You pull a corner of the table cloth up, looking around, seeing the undead group dispersed and in the distance, only moving shadows in the night now. “So you got my back, right?” Taehyung nods, eyes focused. “We’re gonna go really slow, clear the area as much as possible. If we see one, and they’re a slow one too, we’re gonna let them come to us.”

“And if it’s like him?” Taehyung gestures to the corpse next to him. 

You smile, “We’re gonna let them come to me. You take them down. We just have to last until the others get to us. I trust you, Tae.”

You’re breaking your second rule on being-chased-by-monsters. Always run from newly turned zombies. But you’re doing it for Taehyung, for the group. 

Also, you can’t deny that you and Taehyung have both gotten very good at defending yourselves. Of course every zombie encounter is life or death, of course it’s a terrifying experience to fight one, one Taehyung would rather avoid, but he hasn’t lost yet! The odds are in your favor.

This so happens to be just another night out in post apocalyptic times. And as you hold Taehyung’s hand, now standing in the middle of the unlit street, watching a few ambling monsters start ambling your way, you and Taehyung start to walk as if you were just out on a stroll, and you think, this is not the most horrible night out you’ve had post apocalypse, and you might even go far as to say pre-apocalypse either, thinking about that night you ended up in the ER. 

Twelve more, down, you and Taehyung have stopped. You stand back to back, looking around for any signs of life. 

“Should we just call out for help?” Taehyung suggests, looking around for any signals to where his brother’s have gone.

It’s so quiet now, you can only hear Taehyung, maybe the others are being quiet on purpose. “Not yet. Which way did you see Hobi and Joon go?”

“I think we should go back and find Jin and Yoongi.”

“Oh? Okay...” you let Taehyung lead you away. “W-Wait! Do you hear that?”

It sounds like a ticking, no, more like a pounding. Something heavy bumping into glass. You situate yourself against Taehyng’s back again. “What is that?”

“I don’t know, do you see where it’s coming from?” you whisper, looking at the buildings around you. Could it be the others? Are they in trouble?

Taehyung holds your hand, bracing himself, “Yeah.” He sees a young woman, banging on the glass in an abandoned store. It is fairly far, at first Taehyung thought she was signaling for help…

…but she’s banging on the door with her head.

There’s so much blood, but Taehyung can clearly see the way she bares her teeth. And in the shadows, Taehyung can just make out some movement, something else, coming closer. “We need to hide. Now!”

You look over your shoulder, to see what Taehyung sees, just in time to witness the glass break. Taehyung is leading you away before you can respond, running faster than you can keep up in the opposite direction. You stumble into an alleyway, looking for a place to hide. “WHY IS IT BLOCKED?!” 

You have found yourselves at a dead end, a car jammed in the narrowest alleyway, turned over on its side, probably trying to escape the exact kind of monsters chasing after you now. 

The monsters find you as you and Taehyung are desperately trying to climb over the car. “Wait wait wait!” Taehyung holds his hands up, knife ready to stab.

The zombie actually stops.

“Did you just speak zombie to her?” you ask incredulously.

It was probably a coincidence as the monster starts running towards you and Taehyung again. “Stop!”

“It’s not stopping, Taehyung! Just run!”

“It was worth another try.”

The zombie is catching up, not caring how badly damaged its body becomes as it catapults itself over the car. Taehyung trips, pulling you down with him. You’re sure to have cuts across your palms and elbows as you crawl away on the hard pavement.

Now the distance is closed, and there’s two more crawling over the top of the car like ants over a hill looking for something sweet to devour.

But before you can defend yourself, her head is already gone. “Get up!” An older man yells at you. Taehyung pulls you up as a strange group takes down the remaining zombies.

The stranger runs to the backdoor of a store, opening it with a key, ushering everyone inside until the last man joins you, and the old man locks the door again. “Thank you,” Taehyung says, winded.

The man introduces himself and the group. “We saw you outside, on the street,” he says. “It was impressive,” he adds. The pair of you seemed fearless taking on so many zombies, so he thought…

You stay quiet as Taehyung and the man talk. You look around, counting four other men and two women. You notice each woman clinging onto a man, presumably their boyfriend, and you glance down at your own hand, fingers still interlaced with Taehyung.

“Is it just you two?”

“Yes.” Taehyung says. There was another reason you broke off into groups, so if you ran into anyone living, depending on your situation, you could make sure they wouldn’t know about the others. “We’re trying to get to Seoul.” You hear soft laughter. Why is it always so funny?!

You haven’t spoken up, only stared at the group, trying to gauge their level of hostility. They seem curious about you and they don’t seem to have recognized Taehyung. “I don’t think there will be much left when you get there,” one of the men speaks up. “I escaped Seoul.”

They always say that too…

“What happened in Seoul?” Taehyung asks. “What do you remember?”

“What I remember? I think I blocked most of it out now,” he laughs bitterly. “The first day, it must have been half…half of everyone changed into biters by that night..” A few others nod their head in agreement. “We were told to stay in our homes, shelter in place, so we thought, ‘that’s good news,’ right? Someone would come and save us, bring us food and supplies at least, but there was...nothing. We had internet, we could contact our friends and family for a while. But power stopped eventually, and then we were really fucked to hell. No one came to help us, only to try to break down our doors to get inside. Once we finally left, it was completely changed, I’ve never seen anything like it. Seoul wasn’t Seoul anymore.”

“What about the military?”

“They tried their damndest from what I heard, but they were all overrun by those things, even the American base,” he eyes you up and down, wondering where you came from and if you understood him, your impassive face not giving anything away, He also questioned…bitterly…why a foreigner managed to survive all this time when his friends, his family, hadn’t. 

“It can’t all be destroyed,” Taehyung says, choking on his words.

The man clears his throat, “There were rumors of certain communities in Gangnam and in Itaewon that created a good enough fortification, what’s left of the military now fends off the biters for them. But we also heard they would shoot anyone who came close to their buildings, living or not really.”

Taehyung seems to light up at that new information regardless. If rumors and half truths were anything to go by, that meant there still might be some hope someone he knew survived. Taehyung turns to you, “That’s good news, right?” You nod. Well, if you were to ignore the shooting on sight part.

“T-That’s not– Did you listen to me? If you go to Seoul you will die.” The man interrupts. 

“You said there were survivors-”

“Yeah, they got the important people up in there, in their damn billion won penthouses, ready to kill off anyone who even tries to get close. It was rumored even the president ended up there. Or escaped to North Korea, some say. But it doesn’t matter, because they killed everyone else! They’re not going to let you in, even if you manage to get there. And the rest of the city is hell on earth. Trust me, you don’t want to take her there.”

Oh shit. You study the two women, do they recognize Taehyung? What will they do once they find out? Take out their anger on one of those billion won penthouse owners? Thank god it’s dark in here, only a few rays of light from the moon shine through the windows and everything else is in the shadows, you and Taehyung included.

“And you have a place here, if you want it.” The old man interjects. “It was impressive, what you did, both of you,” he repeats. He needs more people like you here, he needs more fighters. There’s already so many factions in Hongcheon, it’s a miracle his tiny group has survived up until now.

“Can we…think about it? We still need to get supplies, that’s why we came out in the first place. We’ll go out and come back here, now that we know this place is safe.” Taehyung says.

“Okay, go and help him.” The older man asks another.

“I can show you where we sleep,” one of the women walks up to you, putting her head on her hands in case you didn’t understand her.

“No, she’s coming with me,” Taehyung interjects. He hasn’t let go of your hand this entire time.

“I know you want to protect her.” The older man adds, noticing the way you stayed glued to each other, even when you fought the monsters you always held onto each other's hands unless you absolutely had to let go, only for moments at a time. “It would be safer for her to stay here.”

You look at Taehyung with wide eyes, trying to convey to him all the things you want to say. Like, hell fucking no! There is no fucking way you are letting him out of your sight! Who the fuck cares whatever place they have to sleep looks like?! They’ve got to be kidding-

“Uh, let me talk to her, to explain!” Taehyung pulls you away, deeper into the store.

“Taehyung, you can’t be seriously thin-”

“I noticed the front door is barricaded, there might be a window in the bathroom, no, that’s not gonna work-”

“Oh-”

“We need to leave, y/n. Right now.”

You nod. “Do you think they recognize who you are? We need to be careful.”

“Yeah.” Even if it’s been awhile, Taehyung knows better than anyone, he still can spot a fan just by the way they look at him, the way they act, or pretend to act.

“How are we going to leave without them noticing?” You glance over to the strangers, trying to see if they are talking amongst themselves, if they are being told about Taehyung.

He pulls you further away, eyeing the shelves, glancing over his shoulder at the group. Taehyung sighs. “I think we’re gonna have to break one of our rules-”

Oh great, there goes rule number three on being-chased-by-monsters, out the window.

-

“We know all the places that have been already cleared of biters, there might be a few stranglers, but nothing like what you just went through.”

“Okay,” Taehyung eyes the way you visibly frown as one of the women tries talking to you about the roles the men and women accomplish day by day, and he tries not to laugh. 

The more of these “chores” she goes through, the more it’s sounding like they want to turn you into a 1950s housewife. And she might be all too content to sweep the post apocalyptic dust around the store so it can settle into another corner for the next day, but you certainly are not!

And why is Taehyung smiling at you?! “Okay, I’ll be right back.” Taehyung gives you a hug, and touches your cheek softly, looking into your eyes like he’s about to kiss you.

And then he kisses you. 

What. You close your eyes and just go with it, trying not to look too surprised or too awkward.

And then he bends down and kisses your stomach, smiling, before giving you one last kiss on your forehead. “Just wait and remember to let them come to you,” he whispers against your temple.

Eh? Did Taehyung just Peeta you? You get he’s trying to protect you, but you think you might actually murder him after this. You look around, grinning as wide as you can pretend to, seeing everyone’s surprised faces.

“Wait,” you tug on Taehyung’s sleeve. Actually, you really hate this, you don’t want him to leave you here! So much has changed since you last broke rule number three: never go out at night on your own. You hold his head in your hands. Somehow holding him like this, with your foreheads and noses touching, feels more intimate than when your lips touched.

“Please, be careful…for the baby,” you add. Taehyung nods, smiling. He hugs you tight and you’re both reluctant to let each other go.

If they had any doubts you and Taehyung were together, they didn’t anymore.

-

“So, you’re pregnant?” The woman makes an arch over her stomach with her arm, “Baby?”

“Yep,” you fake smile, holding your belly and inwardly groaning. 

You walk aimlessly around the store, most of the shelves are empty now, apart from things like a row of pastel phone cases, this plastic thing that you can’t figure out what its supposed to be, hmm, it seems collapsible, but even the smaller size doesn’t make sense to you! And, ironically, you find a row of baby powder. Damn, even in the apocalypse people don’t forget how bad it is for you.

There’s the older gentleman, two women, and one of their boyfriend’s who stays behind in the store. Just wait, y/n. Wait. Did Taehyung forget how impatient you are?

“Bathroom?” you ask.

“Oh, it’s outside but we can’t go now. Wait. Later. Outside,” the woman, whom you learn is named Jinyoung, says, hoping you understand.

You sigh, you could make a fuss, you know pregnant women and their bladders, but you really don’t want to pee in a bucket somewhere inside here to prove a point. You flick the crumpled remains of some food packaging, sifting through the junk. Everything is empty apart from what you found, which Jinyoung promptly grabs from your grasp. “Oh, no, no good,” Jinyoung speaks up, “baby powder causes cancer.” You smile at her, laughing awkwardly.

The couple seems preoccupied at least, you think, they are all looking at you, however. You catch their eyes peering at you every so often. You feel like a caged animal putting on a show. This is an act in a way. 

The store is pretty clean despite having been ransacked. You could try and run upstairs to the living quarters, but you had no idea what was waiting up there for you. The front door is indeed blocked. The glass windows look thick, probably won’t break unless you throw something really heavy at it, and even if you want to escape, you won’t destroy their home to do it. The old man is standing guard by the back door, blocking your only exit. Ugh. 

It’s been awhile, at least a couple of hours now. You listen to the women whisper to one another while you try not to run head first into the glass like that zombie woman just so you can escape this place and search for Taehyung and the others.

“I knew there had to be a reason why he was with her.”

“He’s a good man, watching over her. They really care about each other.”

“Because she’s carrying his child, obviously.”

“That’s exciting though. A small Taehyungie, She’s so lucky.”

“Yeah, that’s going to be more people to feed.”

“It’s going to be the most beautiful baby, oh! You know, if she survives.”

“She definitely won’t.”

Mmm don’t think murderous thoughts, y/n. It’s bad for “the baby.” ‘It’s been too long, they should be here by now,’ you think. ‘Ok, screw this plan,’ you think, finding something you thought you’d never see again: a jar of gochujang paste.

“Hey old man, please will you move and open the door, I need to leave.”

“It’s not safe to go out alone, young lady. Your boyfriend should be back soon, don’t worry.”

“Are you holding me prisoner?”

“Of course not,” he says, flabbergasted not only by your accusation but your ability to speak fluently, “but I also will not allow you to put yourself in danger under my watch. I know we are strangers to you, for now, but we should still look out for one another-”

“Let her go if she wants to go!” one of the women says.

“I appreciate you saved my life, I really do. So this is a courtesy to you, I’m protecting you, from me.”

“What is she saying? She doesn’t make any sense.”

Ugh. “I’m bitten. I got bitten, and I’m going to turn, so let me out!”

“What?!” 

You lift up your shirt, “I didn’t want to say anything before, not in front of my…partner. But see, I have to go! You’re in danger the longer I’m in here!” You show him a scar on your side, where you have strategically placed the dark red paste to look like a bleeding bite mark.

“Kill her!”

“Or just let me leave?!”

“Oh my god, can we save the baby?”

“She’s not even showing! What are we gonna save?”

The younger man runs up to you, chasing you through the aisles. “Just let me go outside, damn.”

“Your Korean is so good!” Jinyoung exclaims.

“Thank you,” you say, barely dodging the man’s fist.

Suddenly, there is a pounding on the door, scaring everyone into silence. “Open the door!” Jinyoung exclaims.

“There’s a code,” the man waits. The pounding gets louder and quicker, rattling the door.

“What if they are in trouble! Open it!” you yell.

“What if it’s those biters?! We can’t let them in!”

“Hello, did you forget about me?!” you whine.

“OPEN IT!”

“Please, hurry!”

The older man relents, unlocking the door. And in bursts-

“Jin!” you cry out.

“OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD.” Namjoon, Hoseok, and Yoongi are right behind him. Someone, you can’t tell if it’s Jinyoung or the other woman, screams. 

Namjoon holds out his knife, pointing it at the old man. “We’re not going to hurt you, we just came to get our friend.” You run towards the singers as fast as your legs can take you.

There is another reason why you broke into pairs, so you could save each other. Namjoon grabs you first, pulling you into a hug. 

“She’s bitten, stay away from her!”

You pull out the gochujang from your pack, “Oh, I lied, sorry, I just really wanted to leave.”

“But t-the bite-”

“Fooled you, didn’t I? It does look like blood if you dilute it enough.”

“Oh my god, you found this?!” Seokjin asks excitedly.

“Let’s go!” Yoongi grunts.

-

“Where’s Taehyung?!” You jog up to the leader. 

“We’re getting there,” he says. You haven’t stopped running since leaving the store. 

Finally you see that moppy headed menace, running towards your group. “Next time YOU wait!”

“But my plan worked, didn’t it?”

“You really just had to tell them I’m pregnant?”

“Hey, I was doing it to protect you! I didn’t know if they might hurt you because of who you were.” Taehyung says, and the irony is not lost on you.

“How did you get away from those men?”

“It was pretty easy, I just said I was bit-”

“No way, me too!”

“How much longer do we have to run? My legs hurt!” Seokjin yells.

“Pace yourselves because it’s gonna be a while,” Hoseok says.

“Next thing we look for are some better shoes,” you whine.

A zombie runs towards your group, and you use the opportunity to take out your frustrations of the night, piercing through the monster’s jaw and up. The blood goes all over your clothes. Now you look just as dirty as the day before. “I just took a bath. UGH.”

“Don’t upset the baby!” Taehyung laughs, running away from you.

“Oh, you’re gonna get it!” you run. You turn the corner and find Jungkook, Jimin and Dev waiting for you. The group is now all together again, running into the night.

“So, anything new happen? How's the weather?” you ask Dev.

“Those zombies that were following us are taken care of,” Hoseok speaks up.

“We might have more than zombies following us now,” Taehyung adds. “Like living zombies, what are those called again?” he jokes.

“We ran into people too!” Jungkook says, running past you with ease. 

“Yeah?”

“They’re trying to get to Jeju!”

“Jeju, why?” Namjoon asks

“They said that’s the place with no zombies.”

“How do they know?” you ask, intrigued.

“Well they don’t, but that’s what others have told them and they sound pretty convinced.”

“Any news that’s not a rumor?”

“Y/n is pregnant with my child!”

“Yeah, that’s just a lie.”

Taehyung then goes into all the details you’ve learned about Seoul.

“So, we just have to figure out how to not get shot, convince them to let us in, and hope our families are somewhere inside?”

“I don’t think they would shoot BTS.” you say, confident.

“And we have no idea if any other place, if Big Hit, is a safe area or not.” Jin asks.

“I mean, it could be?”

“The odds are not great, but it’s not horrible odds, aye!”

“We’re gonna die.”

“Ugh shut up, Dev. We’re in Hongcheon and we’re doing…okay. I even found gochujang!”

“I can’t have spicy food.”

“UGH DEV PLEASE. It’s not even that spicy!”

“Damn, if only we had meat,” Jungkook sighs.

“Shhh Shh don’t do this to me now, I am running on fumes, literally.” Jin says.

“I want K-BBQ. Please god don’t let me die until I can have K-BBQ again,” Jungkook wails.

“Why are you laughing, y/n?”

“Nothing, it’s a bad joke. You don’t wanna know…also what are the odds a zombie has eaten a person that has been recently caught on fire?”

“Y/n!”

“BAHAHA.”

---

You wake up crying again.

Even in the bright daylight, your tired bodies were fast asleep. You ran all night, finally finding a suitable house that didn’t smell like death, and hid yourselves inside. You look over at the sleeping bodies around you, reflexively counting each head. Wait, what? Someone is missing!

You see the final head, leaning against the open door frame, looking outside. You move quietly and make your way over to him. “Yoongi?”

“Go back to sleep.”

“You should go back to sleep, you look exhausted,” you whisper.

“It was hard to sleep.”

“If you’re worried about someone standing guard, I can stay here.”

“It’s too sunny to sleep now.”

You sigh, giving up arguing with the rapper, sitting in silence with him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks, curious.

“I don’t know,” you laugh. “Sometimes I can remember the dreams, but most of the time I can’t, I just know it was probably something horrible.”

Yoongi has noticed the way you cry in your sleep, shake and whimper until someone holds you, only then will you calm down a bit, so the members take turns making sure you always have someone next to you when you’re resting. “I was thinking, once we get you guys to Seoul, I might try to go to Jeju,” you say wistfully.

“What about the Embassy?” he asks.

“What are they gonna do if they are still even there? How would they get me out of the country? I’m…not as confident that my family is still around.” You give Yoongi a sad smile.

“What about your family here?” You tilt your head, surprised by his words. “You’re gonna leave us?” he asks.

You bite your lip in thought. “I don’t know.” With the way everything changes so quickly, you had no idea what to anticipate. There are so many things that could happen before you reach Seoul and then after, you can’t even begin to figure out your future. “Do you want me to stay?”

Yoongi stays quiet. With you forever, is the implication. “Jeju is nice, I might go to Jeju too,” he says, not looking at you.

You smile at the thought. It’s nice to imagine what a trip there would have been like before the world turned upside down. You hold out your palm to him. “I promise to forget,” you tease.

He puts his fingers in between yours, holding your hand. “I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, thumb making circles into your skin when you rest your head on his shoulder. It’s pretty outside, in its own special way, how the trees and vines have covered everything now, how everything that’s abandoned sits still and serene. There’s even flowers, sprouting in the most unlikely places.

“Jimin’s mad at me.”

“He’s mad at me too.”

“He’s not mad at you,” Yoongi sighs. “I think he’s in love with you.” You freeze. “And I think you should give him a chance-” he continues. 

“Yoongi. It’s not that I don’t want to give Jimin a chance– Do you really think he’s in love with me?”

“Yea-”

“And if I wasn’t the only woman here do you think he would still be ‘in love’ with me?” you frown.

“Is that why-”

“I just don’t know, Yoongi, I don’t know if I can believe that. I don’t know if he really believes it, or just wants it to be true because I…I am-”

“The only woman here?” Yoongi finishes for you. You hum.

“That’s why you kissed me, right? And Namjoon, nevermind.”

Yoongi stays quiet, until finally asking, “And what do you feel?”

“I can’t, I can’t, I’m scared,” you start to laugh despite your welling eyes. “We almost died, again, last night, how can I let myself fall in love, if something happens, how can I survive that? I can’t.”

“And here I thought you were fearless,” Yoongi smirks, wiping away a stray tear.

You snort. “I’ve never been more scared.”

“You are my family,” you say, answering his previous question. “You are everything I have left. That’s how I feel.”

“Even Dev?”

You laugh, “Yes, even him…maybe.”

Yoongi watches you smile. He understands your fear, he’s felt it, let it consume him, weigh him down until he’s stuck inside himself, frozen by that fear. But this kind of new world forces you to face your demons. You can try to hide, alone, too scared to go outside and too scared to move, but he’s learned hiding in bed under the covers won’t keep you safe, won’t keep the people you love safe either. 

“It’s scary to put yourself out there. It was scary even before the world went to shit.”

“So did you have someone, before?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “No, not really. I was always so damn busy, it was hard to have anything serious. I would go into the studio, work all day, losing track of everything else, I told myself I had plenty of time to settle down. Funny now that I think about it.”

“After?” Yoongi sighs. He looks like he’s in pain, in thought. You hold his hand a little tighter out of reflex. “I’m sorry.” You assume, like most everyone else, the person he cared about is gone.

“To be honest, I can’t believe we made it this far,” you laugh, changing the subject. “You’ve got to have some new songs about all of this. Some, survivor-you-can’t-stop-me type song you’ve got.”

“Writing lyrics is not on the top of my to-do list right now.”

“Mhmm, you’re just collecting pens because you like them, right?”

“I have a few raps,” Yoongi confesses. “No music, no way to make a beat even if I want to.” You make a silent note to try to find Yoongi some kind of an instrument. “Music is gone.” 

“That’s a good song title. But I have to disagree, it’s not gone. I think there are songs everywhere just waiting to be written. This moment? There’s a song,” you look out at the landscape. “Hear it?” You hum a tune you feel.

Yoongi laughs. “You sound like Namjoon.” Namjoon. You can’t think about him without thinking about what happened. How did that even happen?! It was like some horny demon possessed both of you. 

You thought it would be awkward afterwards, but it wasn’t. You put on the clothes you laid out, handed him one of the shirts you found and you laughed when he tripped over his pants leg. Namjoon shoved you playfully, knocking you onto the bed. He looked at you without shying away and told you to put on some pants in a way that sounded like, “I like seeing you without any pants,” and then you both walked outside and acted like nothing ever happened.

But for some reason you can’t act like that with Yoongi, his kisses are haunting you still, his touch is still burning across your lips when you remember (even though you promised him you wouldn’t). You never really got a real answer from him.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You sit in comfortable silence. The others haven’t stirred awake yet, and you’re content to sit here with Yoongi until they do. You wonder about him, though. Is he happy you’re keeping him company or feeling burdened? Yet he hasn’t let go of your hand.

“You guys are close to one another, you and Joon,” Yoongi says in sort of a questioning way.

“Yeah, I guess. He takes on everyone’s burdens, even my own,” you sigh.

Yoongi nods. He should let go of you. You hum that tune again, looking outside, holding Yoongi’s hand tightly. Instead he clicks his tongue to the beat, making you laugh loudly. “Sorry, sorry.” You look back at the others who thankfully haven’t woken up from your outburst. “That’s good! So you can hear it too then, the song out there,” you joke.

He feels stuck, knowing his brothers want you, and knowing how it feels to kiss you, knowing how soft your lips are, and knowing he can’t kiss you again, he just can’t.

“You’re beautiful.”

You stop laughing.

Yoongi said it in English. 

When you know two languages, it’s hard to explain the differences in the words and how they make you feel. You’ve been called yeppeun. You’ve seen the word in textbooks, heard it in lyrics and Korean shows. 

But beautiful is what your first boyfriend called you right before he kissed you, what your childhood best friend called the butterfly that landed on your knee when you were playing together, what your mom said when she looked at you before you left the house on your first date, what your grandmother called you as a kid so many times when she consoled you and held you in her arms as you cried. “My beautiful girl.”

You’ve been speaking Korean for so long now. It just feels different being called beautiful. Beautiful is what you haven’t felt like in a long time...

“I’m sorry!” you pull away from Yoongi after surprising him with a kiss. 

Yoongi nods. He had wanted to kiss you in that moment so badly he hadn’t expected you would kiss him. It was too quick, it was barely a kiss. Is that really going to be his last kiss with you? “I can’t kiss you anymore.”

“I know, fuck, I’m sorry.” You pull away further, but can’t go far with Yoongi’s vice grip around your fingers.

“I can’t-”

“I’m sorr-”

“I’m sorry.” And he takes the opportunity to kiss you one last time, letting all his unspoken emotions flow through his lips, his tight embrace. He feels your soft lips one last time, he lets his fingertips run across your cheek, your neck, rolls his tongue inside his mouth just once more. He finally breaks away and lets his thumb run across your lip, just to feel one last time.

That should have been the end, yet your eyes start shining, glassy as tears start forming, and you close the gap between you again.

Until you hear something off in the distance. “Did you see that?”

Yoongi looks in the direction you’re studying. “No?” He looks for any sign of life or, well, animated death.

“I swear I saw something,” You both stand up, searching for any movement for a while until you give up. And now kissing Yoongi seems to be left in the past, another thing you can’t get back.

---

One last supply run in the city before you move again.

Everything is empty, this run is not looking very fruitful. You’ve gone to three restaurant already and have managed to find only one tiny can of edible food. You’ve just entered the fourth restaurant and it doesn’t look like this place has anything to offer either.

So far you haven’t encountered any undead, which is the only good thing about this run, until you hear a noise coming from the kitchen of a restaurant you, Jimin, Jungkook and Namjoon are currently searching through.

“Yo RM, come here.”

“What’s up? 

“I thought I heard something over there.”

You make your way through the kitchen. Everything is either gone or moldy. You sigh, “I don’t know if we’re gonna find anything here either.”

“This part of town seems completely empty.”

“What are we gonna do? We need to eat.” You go through another cabinet, finding nothing.

“We still have some food leftover. We can keep trying, stay here for a few more days and check the other streets.”

You nod. This restaurant looks like it specialized in fried chicken, the oil smells putrid now. What’s left in the freezer would probably kill you if you tried to eat it.

“Man, this sucks,” you wipe the sweat accumulating off your forehead.

“Can we do anything with this?”

“Flour? Mmm we could make the blandest pancakes you’ll ever eat,” you laugh.

Namjoon pouts. He pulls off his jacket. It’s safer to wear layers when out, but the days are getting hotter, and no aircon inside makes certain spaces really unbearable.

“You should keep that on,” you eye the way his muscles flex.

“I’m burning up.” You cover his forehead with your palm, checking his temperature. “Not like that-” and Namjoon uses a word you don’t understand.

“What does that mean?”

“Genius.” By the way Namjoon is smiling at you, you just know it means the opposite. “Ow!” he winces when you hit him, looking so accosted you start to giggle. Namjoon hugs you from behind, and the big towering giant he is decides to lift you off your feet, making you squeal.

“N-Namjoon, Y/n!” Jimin sounds scared.

The kitchen door opens. “Sorry to break up whatever this is, but it’s time to come out now and join the others. Oh, you know she was kissing Yoongi the other day, looks like I was right. You’ve got your own groupie whore.”

You knew you felt eyes on you. “Hey Minho.”

“Hey bitch.” He points a gun at you and Namjoon. 

Who the fuck gave this man a gun?

Minho ushers you both out into the eating area, where they are several men with various weapons all aimed at your friends. Minho is the only one with a gun, though.

“I told you I would make you regret choosing her,” he says to Namjoon, sneering at you.

Minho looks possibly even more buff than you remember.  “I made new friends,” he smirks. His new friends look very unfriendly. They lounge around, overly confident, looking amused by the situation. 

“Of course you did,” you grunt. He pushes Namjoon towards Jungkook and Jimin and separates you from the others. 

“I just needed to have been an idol, then you would have given it up, yeah?” he whispers in your ear, grabbing the knives from your pockets and throwing them on the ground.

You roll your eyes. “You’re following us? That’s not creepy at all.”

“Where are the others?” Minho asks Namjoon. He grabs the back of your neck and holds the gun to your temple when Namjoon doesn’t speak. “Where are they?”

“Searching the restaurant next door. We’re only staying a couple more days, then we’ll leave this city.”

“Still believe you can make it to Seoul, huh?”

“Just let us go.”

“We will, after you give us your backpacks. Hurry up now.” The three men glare at him but relent, handing the thieves their packs.

“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you ask him.

“Nope,” Minho smirks. “Okay, you can leave now,” he points his gun at the leader.

“Wait, him too.” One of the men speaks up, pointing at Jimin.

“No. The deal was her.”

“Well the deal has changed, I want him too,” he eyes Jimin up and down. Namjoon and Jungkook instantly hide Jimin with their bodies.

You struggle in Minho’s hold. “Minho, what are you doing? What deal did you make with them?!”

Minho stares at Jimin. “Anyone else but him.”

The man looks between the singers. “He’s the prettiest, I want him.”

Minho pauses. Even if he wanted to hurt Namjoon, he still felt a sense to protect Jimin. It had been his job for so many years, and then it had been his decision to keep protecting the singers even after his position wasn’t official any longer. You, he didn’t care about you. But Jimin, deep down, he still cared about him. He couldn’t let something horrible happen to him, not when Minho could stop it.

Minho exhales exasperatedly. “Not him,” he says, pointing the gun at the thief.

“Minho, come on now, you and I both know there’s no bullets in that gun.” What? You elbow Minho in the stomach, running towards the kitchen when he doubles over in pain.

“Grab her!” one of the thieves yells.

Namjoon punches one of the men too distracted by you. Jungkook lunges for your knives on the ground and unleashes all the pent up fury he’s felt on the unlucky few who had tried to hold down the singer. Namjoon and Jimin exchange looks with Minho.

They charge the thieves.

---

“Leave me alone!” You swing a pan in the thief’s face as he swings his knife and both metal pieces clang together. You fall hard on the kitchen tile as he lunges at you. There’s more men, all armed, all coming for you, and the only weapon you have is a stupid pan!

-

You feel like you’re hyperventilating, trapped in such a small space. You bang on the door, crying. It finally opens and someone is shoved inside with you. He’s cut, bruised, thoroughly beat up.

“Piss off your new friends?”

“Not really, we’re going to finish what we started, yeah?”

“Touch me and I'll kill you.”

“I would like to see you try.”

“What happened? They didn’t take Jimin, did they?!” you ask, horrified.

“No, they escaped,” Minho grunts, thumb running over his cut lip.

“Oh. Good,” you say, relieved.

Minho laughs. “And you? Did you forget you’re their prisoner? They are going to do whatever they want to you?”

“If the others escaped, they’ll come for me.”

“You’ve got them whipped for you, must be really good pussy.”

“Ugh, maybe I’m more to them than just a hole, you fuck?”

“You really think they would give you a second glance under normal circumstances?”

“No! I don’t!” you scream. God, he pisses you off. “I thought you would have, that’s why I kissed you! Big mistake that fucking was.”

“So what, you kissed me because you thought I would lower my standards for you?” he jabs. 

Oh, this fucker! He says that like he wasn’t flirting with you for months on end before you kissed him. “You know what?” you cross your arms, “Yeah, I did, Minho. I thought maybe, just maybe, it would be nice to try and have something more with you so we wouldn’t have to, you know, die alone in an apocalypse. But then you ended up being the most vile despicable jackass-”

Minho throws your body against the door, arm pressed against your throat. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! This is all your fault! You ruined everything!”

The door opens just in time for you to catch in oxygen before you pass out. “Will you two shut the hell up! Take her to my room,” he says to one of his men, “Minho, you had your turn, now it’s mine.” It’s that thief, the one who wanted Jimin, the one who seems to be in charge. You scream until the wind is kicked out of you. “Don’t hit her face.”

You crumble inward, trying to cover your body from their kicks until one lifts you up, carrying you over his shoulder while you scream and cry.

-

Shit, the windows are boarded up. The bed, like everything in this building, looks disgusting. Everything else, you notice grimacing, is barren, like this room only had one purpose.

The door slides open.

“Okay girl, we can do this the hard way or the easy way.”

“I’m not easy.” You move to the furthest corner, pressing yourself up against the filing cabinet. You just had to wait, you are an expert at waiting, you tell yourself. You can do this, whatever happens, you can move past this, you tell yourself. Horrible things happen to you all the time, you’re just gonna have to add this to the tally.

“Good, I prefer the hard way.”

Please, god, let them find you soon.

You’ve met men like this before, men that think you owe them something just because you’re a woman. “Smile more,” men who think your body is for their eyes, created for their hands and their mouths and their-

You bite down on his hand, digging your nails into his face. He hits you, hard, but not hard enough to knock you out thankfully. He’s not that kind of man, at least, you think bitterly. He is the kind of man who has no qualms making you know how much stronger he is than you, making it hurt, wants you pretty but also will give you a black eye for daring to go against him. There’s so many men like that now. You feel lucky knowing you have men around you that don’t act like that.

You scream again.

---

Jungkook leaps up the stairs, taking two at a time. He’s in the lead. He’s always been fast, but this time, after months of running from monsters, and an insane amount of stamina, he’s like lightning.

This office building is small, but there are so many floors, and they’ve already cleared the first two without finding you. But Jungkook has a suspicion the men he’s searching for are on the top floor, so he trusts his gut and he races to find you.

Jungkook is the first to open the door to a group full of men surprised to have a visitor. He stays in the stair well, he’s not crazy enough to run in there alone yet, since the others haven’t caught up to him. He still has to keep a level head, let them come to him, let him knock each one of those bastards out. He grabs another and throws him over his back and down the stairs where his brothers are about to arrive.

Maybe Jungkook is a little crazy at this point, he throws someone over the railing into the open space between stairwells and the man screams as he falls five flights down, body clanging onto metal as his bones break. Jungkook uses his arms to defend from knives and gets his jacket and skin sliced in the process, yet he keeps on swinging while blood drips down his fists. Yeah, Jungkook is a bit crazed, but he has good reason to be as he hears you scream again for help.

He runs inside once he has his brothers behind him. He runs towards the sound of your screaming, knocking away anyone who gets in his way. He feels his restraint slipping, he feels like he might enjoy killing whoever is hurting you. It’s already been too long, your voice sounds small and broken. He throws his full weight into the locked door, knocking into the wood with his shoulder until the lock busts.

“Don’t even think about it.” You have a knife to your neck, your body shielding the man who has you captive, just another way he’s found to use your body. “Let me go and I won’t kill her.”

“Let her go or I will kill you.” The fighting has stopped. It’s clear to both men who won as Namjoon and Seokjin arrive to help Jungkook. The man holds onto you a bit tighter, he realizes he might be the only one left and by the look in his eyes he’s planning on surviving until the very end. He shuffles your bodies closer to the door, closer to his escape.

It’s an achingly slow pace as he makes sure no one can attack him from behind. He looks at the bodies of his men on the ground, realizing just how dangerous this group of yours is, he should have never made a deal with that damn Minho, he should have let him fight his own battles, now he’s standing in a graveyard of his own men.

You pass by each member and you can’t make eye contact, you let your tears silently fall, let your body be pulled in hopes it will all be over soon. He finally makes it to the stairwell, relieved. “Give me your word you won’t follow me and I’ll let you have her.”

“Fine,” Namjoon speaks for the group.

He presses his knife into your neck. “That doesn’t sound too convincing.”

Suddenly, his grip lessens. He drops his knife and, finally, you can get away. You turn around and see his surprised wide eyes. You feel just as shocked as he looks when he makes a gurgling noise instead of speaking.

And suddenly Dev’s equally shocked face pops up from behind the man’s shoulder.

He had been too scared to enter the office room, but looks like he hadn’t been too scared to stab the man holding you in the back of the neck. “I did it. I killed him,” he says, equally excited and petrified as the man falls onto the ground.

You look at him in shock. “Yeah.”

---

“He’s bleeding!”

“Taehyung, no…”

“Shit, I’ve never been stabbed before, this hurts.” Taehyung winces.

“Oh god, how do we stop the bleeding,” Jimin asks, panic rising in hiss voice.

Namjoon answers, “There’s one way, we have to burn it with something hot. Find a small knife-” 

“I’m going to be stabbed twice?!”

“Wouldn’t it be better to, like, stitch it, with a needle or something?” Taehyung grimaces, the thought of being sewn together without any pain medicine is making him feel sick.

“What about the internal bleeding?”

“Oh god.”

“You’re going to be fine, your body just needs to heal...someone start a fire!”

“OH GOD.”

“Jungkook, I’m fine, go help them,” you tell him. Jungkook doesn’t believe you are fine at all. Your eye is swollen, your shirt is missing buttons, your neck is bruised and who knows what else he can’t see is bruised. 

“You’re bleeding too?!”

“Oh,” Hoseok winces, clutching his side. “Yeah, it’s not as bad as Taehyung.” Except it does look as bad as Taehyung’s wound. Hoseok's whole left side is covered in blood. You start to cry again, feeling responsible. 

Jin is the one who cauterizes the wounds. Namjoon and Jungkook holds the members down. Hoseoks passes out but Taehyung somehow stays conscious, screaming bloody murder the entire time. It’s going to be another memory that will have you up at night, crying and shaking when you remember his shrieking. This safe house you’re in has a fair amount of supplies and an excessive amount of alcohol. They use it to sanitize the wounds as best they can. 

“You helped us escape. I’m not going to kill you,” Namjoon tells Minho, who sits on the floor, hands duct taped.

“I’m going to kill him!” Jungkook yells.

“No, you won’t,” Namjoon says, calming the youngest down. He turns to Minho. “What do you know about this place? Is there a pharmacy around.” He stays defiantly silent. “Minho!” The leader looks ready to kill, even after his promise not to.

“They won’t be anything left.”

“We have to try, let’s go. Get up!” He yanks the former bodyguard up.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Jungkook says to you. “I’ll look for something for you too,” he says, so softly. You just nod, worried if you were to open your mouth you might start wailing.

Jin is left with Jimin and Yoongi to take care of the two wounded members and you. “I’m so sorry,” you cry, holding onto Taehyung’s hand. 

“This isn’t your fault, don’t blame yourself. You’ve saved me more times than I can remember, I’m sorry we didn’t find you sooner,” he winces.

Jimin holds Taehyung’s other hand. “You’re going to get better, don’t worry, and then you’ll have a cool scar.” Jin and Yoongi are tending to Hoseok who thankfully hasn’t woken up from the pain yet. Yoongi brushes the hair out of Hoseok’s face, cleaning up the blood he finds on his skin. He’s meticulous and careful about it. Jin asks you if you want help cleaning the blood off you too. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Let him help you,” Jimin says.

“We can do it later, I don’t want to be…touched right now.” You mumble. 

“Were you-”

“Don’t push her right now, Jin.” Jimin speaks up for you. 

Jimin holds out his free hand to you, letting you take it if you want. You do. He makes you feel grounded and safe. And you feel small and weak and tired at the same time. You lie down next to Taehyung, bringing your knees into your body, you hug yourself into his side, crying.

Jimin mirrors your actions, resting for now. As long as he holds both your hands, and he can keep an eye on both of you, he can allow himself to relax and recover just for the moment.

Seokjin rubs his face, exhausted. Yet his body still feels wound up and anxious, he can’t relax just yet. He works to clean the space of death. He drags the bodies left inside and heaves them over the railing, creating a pile of corpses at the bottom, hoping it will become a deterrent for any other hostile strangers and then works to make food for when you all wake up, doing what he can to help. He tries to remain positive, he tells himself it could have been so much worse. 

“There was no penicillin. Nothing, not even Tylenol.”

You wake up hearing Namjoon’s voice but keep your eyes closed as the men talk. “And Hoseok has a fever,” Yoongi says.

“I’ve searched this place from top to bottom, they have enough liquor to drown a regiment and no damn medicine,” Jin says.

You stand up on shaky legs. “ I know where we might find medicine.”

---

“Maybe they’re not there.”

“No, there’s a code for knocking, I don’t know it.”

“Hey, we know you’re in there. Please open the door. We need your help, please! We’ll give you anything.”

You hear the door click, and you see the weary faces of the group you left. You explain to them the situation, hoping they have some medicine to trade you or at least know where you might find some medicine. “I have something that could help.” The woman who isn’t Jinyoung holds up half a bottle of pills. “This is amoxicillin I found a while ago.”

“We’ll trade you anything for it.”

The woman thinks for a bit and finally decides. “Seokjin.”

“WHAT?!”

“Just for the night.”

“WHAT?!”

“Fine. yeah, I’ll do it.”

“Wait a fucking a minute, no!” Her boyfriend speaks up. “Honey, are you crazy?!” He turns to your group. “You have food, don’t you? Give us that instead.”

“And Seokjin!”

“Have you lost your mind?!”

“Honey, stay out of this?”

“You’re really going to cheat on me?”

“Oh please, don’t act like you have been soo faithful to me! Before our city was attacked you would come home past midnight almost every night!”

“I was with my coworkers!!”

“Yeah, with Eunji, right? That slut you worked with!!”

You turn to Namjoon, Yoongi and Seokjin while the couple continues to argue, saying “That’s not enough medicine for both of them…”

“It’s better than nothing.”

“There is a house four blocks from here. A pharmacist used to live there. There might the medicine you’re looking for there,” Jinyoung speaks up. “I c-can take you!” She says, her face turning red.

“Okay, Namjoon, you and Yoongi go with her, and I’ll stay here with y/n and…get the other medicine.”

“Seokjin, y-you don’t have to do this,” you say incredulously. Namjoon and Yoongi agree.

“Stop. Yes I do! If this can save them, I will.” Seokjin glares at the three of you, already making up his mind.

Seokjin looks so serious. He looks angry, yet determined. He is putting on a brave face, you want to cry for him. “Jin…” 

“It’s okay, y/n.” He turns to the group. “Yeah, okay, deal. Food and me.” 

“I’ll help you look for the medicine too,” Jinyoung’s boyfriend says, looking over at the idols wearily.

“Hey young lady, I have something for your eye.” The old man says. You sit waiting, once more, in this store, waiting for Namjoon and Yoongi to return, for Jin and that horrible women to be done with whatever she is doing to him upstairs, waiting and hoping Taehyung and Hoseok are okay.

“It’s alright.” You sit with your knees pulled in, much less in the mood to talk than before, sick to your stomach, body aching. The four of you were so beaten and bruised, it’s taken you a couple days to find this place again, what if you get back and it’s already too late?

“I don’t expect anything in return for it, it’s in good faith, I promise you.”

You start to cry, your head buried in your knees.

He sighs, puts his hands on his knees to stand up and moves towards you hesitantly. “Look up for me.” He puts on some antiseptic gel from a tube that looks almost empty, carefully applying the gel to the cuts and bruises around your eye.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“I’m happy to help.”

Waiting for Seokjin to come downstairs feels like an eternity. The boyfriend sits in the corner away from you, completely dejected. You wish you had some kind words to give him, but you have nothing nice left to say, after everything you’ve went through.

Jin enters first, walking silently over to you and sitting down. The distance between you feels so far away. He’s clutching the bottle of pills so tightly the tips of his fingers are red.

You glare at the women when she finally comes downstairs. What the hell is wrong with her? How could she take advantage of the situation like that? How could she use Seokjin like that, what kind of fan is she?!

You move your body slightly so from where she’s sitting, now next to her miserable boyfriend, she can’t see Seokjin. You want to protect him from her. Just thinking about what she could have done to him makes you want to rip out her eyes, makes you think about what was done to you. She deserves the same fate as that man. 

You haven’t looked at Jin. You know if you do, and see his expression, see your own self in his eyes, you might really try to kill her. 

Namjoon and Yoongi come back looking accomplished and put you in hopeful spirits. You say goodbye one last time to the group. You hug Jinyoung, thanking her. Yoongi and Namjoon hug her goodbye too and she turns an even brighter shade of red, smiling happily and clutching a book to her chest, a medicinal plant book she found in the pharmacist's house that she shyly asked the rappers to sign when they were waking back to the store. They happily obliged, grateful because they found just what they were looking for thanks to her.

-

“Have you ever given someone a shot before?” you ask wearily.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Jin mumbles. The penicillin bottle has a few doses, so they decide to split it evenly amongst both members. The pills are being saved if they need more medicine.

Jungkook pulls you aside. “They found Tylenol for you and I found this if you need it.” He hands you a few Tylenol and another box of pills. You’ve never seen those Korean characters together. You ask him, “what is it?”

“It’s a pill to take if you, um, if you need it, if so, so they won’t be any pregnancies if you take it,” he stutters.

You nod, taking the Tylenol and pocketing the pills and glancing over to Jin who seems to be diligently looking over Taehyung and Hoseok, a hard frown etched across his face.

“I’m ready for help, if you want to help me. I can ask Namjoon, if you’re not feeling up to it anymore,” you ask Jin. Jin stands up, happy to do something to take his mind off things.

You didn’t want to go into any of the rooms on the top floor, so you and Seokjin walk quietly one flight down.

This office space looks like it used to be full of computers, there’s electrical pieces littered around the floor like someone came and used each one for target practice. You both sit in two beaten up office chairs. “I’ve never bathed myself with alcohol before,” you mutter, bemused. Pulling off your jacket. You notice there’s already bruises forming on your arms. 

Seokjin works to clean off the dried blood from your neck where the knife was pressed. “I’m sorry,” Seokjin says, looking over the bruises.

“I’m sorry too,” you say, trying to catch his eyes, but he won’t look up. “I wish I could take a shower, wash everything away.”

“Yeah,” Seokjin agrees. His eyes start to water, worrying you.

“Do you want a hug?” You ask. He nods. The plastic pieces crunch under your shoes as you move closer, hugging him gently, letting him decide if he wants more. He wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly and you bite your tongue to keep yourself from yelping when he touches a bruise on your back. He pulls you into his lap. You feel safe and held together in his embrace. And Seokjin feels the chaos inside him finally settling. 

You were both taken advantage of differently, but in that moment it didn’t matter, you both felt the same kind of anger and injustice, for yourselves, and for one another. And in that moment you both just wanted to be held by someone you loved, hoping to erase the touches left by those before. 

You watch Jin break down the door to the break room inside this office. It only takes him three hits with his shoulder. You rush forward, your knife raised, worried you’ll find a monster inside. No monsters, only-“No way.”

“That’s a lot of ramen.”

You and Jin look at each other smiling. There’s enough snacks for days! This discovery might not equal all the pain you’ve both endured, but it was a nice shift, it only takes the slightest push to turn things around. Jin is smiling again now and that is worth celebrating. You make a silent promise to yourself that you’ll bring some to Jinyoung and the old man before leaving Hongcheon. Goodness still needs to be rewarded. Happiness still needs to be celebrated.

---

Looks like Taehyung and Hoseok are in the bottom of the poll. I decided readers will have more input into the story this way. Yoongi seems like a fan favorite (for now) so I hope you enjoyed his relationship progression with y/n, and poor Taehyung and Hoseok, well, I’ll let readers decide, what might happen next chapter? Go vote!

[brineffxiv]

I can't believe it. I think I'm still in shock. I'm in the past. The ancients' world. The world unsundered.

(accidentally left this picture in the last post when I cut it in half. Pretend I didn't do that please, XD)

Getting some fridge logic that modern peoples probably have the Ascians to thank for Aetherytes. Yes, we reverse-engineered the technology from the Allagans, but the ancients clearly have the same structures. Seems to me the logical middle step is that the Ascians assisted the Allagans in developing the technology.

...Anyway, that's not important right now...

Argos! And...

Venat? It must be. That's the only person I can think she could be. And it makes sense. She looks to have the same appearance as the form Hydaelyn took on the boat. Oh boy. I am filled with nervousness at the prospect of meeting her...

And finally, you must be Hermes. And... I don't have the slightest clue who the little bird person is.

I do not spy any likely candidates for Elidibus in this zone's preview, despite knowing I must meet him at some point. Hmmm...

You wouldn't believe me if I told you.

I don't even know if I want to tell you. I don't even know if I can.

How do I explain what you became? That I killed you? How do I tell you that you will soon lose everything dear to you in the entire world, spend over twelve thousand years fighting to restore a fraction of it, and ultimately fail?

Hythlodaus made me a robe out of butterflies! I am never taking this off. Aaaaa!

Hythlodaeus also advises that, if anyone asks, I tell them I'm Azem's familiar. What, uh, what exactly has ancient me been up to to earn this sort of reputation?

Yes, please, assume I have no common sense. I wish to know ALL the worldbuilding details.

We are searching for Hermes by appearance, which is a novelty! He apparently has short, dark hair. I see I was correct in assuming that's who he was in the preview.

Found him!

Hermes is working by some pools, with creatures that appear to be axolotls?

Oh! Um, hi?

You're adorable. Okay. I'll be your friend. You talk a bit funny, are you intended to be neurodivergent?

Oh neat! You can talk in my mind? That--

Wait. Hang on. I see that "Hear, Feel, Think" in there.

Suddenly you are ominous.

Hythlodaeus and Emet-Selch catch up with me, and the former makes introductions. Hythlodaeus already has a working relationship with Hermes through their jobs, though it has been some time since they have seen each other in person.

Hermes seems... apprehensive upon being introduced to a member of the Convocation.

Meteion's avid interest in me saves me from having to make my own introduction, and to explain why I'm here. I get to learn about her instead! She is a personal project of Hermes' that he hasn't submitted for approval yet. Her aether is really thin. Her name means "shooting star". All very important pieces of information, I am sure. I am watching this blue bird girl like a hawk. Ain't no way she's dropping the "hear, feel, think" line without being Significant.

The lads are here to have a Serious Business meeting with Hermes, but first he must put the ambystomas away. Unfortunately, one is missing.

Hythlodaeus may have found it... up a tree??

I must concur with Emet-Selch's bafflement. These things can climb?

Oh, my mistake, they can fly.

But, just because they can get up does not mean they can get down. Hermes runs off to rescue the creature, followed by Meteion. Followed by me. Hythlodaeus and Emet-Selch stay behind to watch the rest of the ambystomas, which Hermes seems to have forgotten in his haste.

...Hermes, are you okay?

Heh. Hehehe... I didn't. I certainly didn't expect the Fandaniel I know, but... I... This is so wholesome!

Ah... Elpis makes me happy.

Hermes falls out of the tree, but he's okay, and the ambystoma is rescued, so all's well that ends well!

Aww, thank you. I will!

.

.

.

Oh, that's nice.

Wait.

Ktisis?

Ktiseos.

I... Have a bad feeling about this.

[swampstew]

Blind Date Event ~ Sanji X Reader

Thank you to everyone who submitted applications for my Blind Date Matchmaking Event. I hope you enjoy these lovely bedtime stories during this week of overpriced chocolates, flowers and heart shaped things. @tremendousardency please excuse me while I pound my fists into the pavement, Sanji is too damn adorable!!! Hope you enjoy your date!

Mostly fluff, SFW, Sanji X Female reader, first blind date experience. WC:1.3K. Minors DNI - my content is for mature audiences only

When you received your blind date match you nearly passed out. A professional chef?? God knows you were not confident in the kitchen. You immediately agreed to the date, eager to meet the handsome blonde that graced the message.

Meeting Sanji was a little intense. You’ve always been the type to self-restrain, even subconsciously. Would you be good enough? Be attractive enough? Would you talk too much or embarrass yourself? Always stressing about one thing or another. You were hoping that going on a date or two would help build your confidence up at the very least. At best, you would meet your perfect match. You saw it as a win either way. You were not, however, expecting your date to fall for you – literally – the second you opened your door.

His gray-blue eyes widened comically as he laid eyes on you. You could have sworn you saw the slender man literally swoon in place.

“_____-chan! That wicked matchmaking medium sent me my match profile but it doesn’t do you even a fraction of justice!” he exclaimed, pupils shaped like hearts. It made you blush deeply.

“Oh, um thank you Mr. Vin—” you smiled warmly but before you could finish your statement, he gently lifted your hand up and placed a kiss over the back.

“Just Sanji, please,” he said.

Sanji drove a little erratically, not able to tear his eyes of you. Thankfully the date location was nearby or you were sure your date would end with you both in the hospital. During the drive you started with the icebreakers in your pamphlet. Getting the formalities out of the way as you got the basic gist of who Sanji Vinsmoke is and vice versa.

You were shocked to learn he was former royalty. He had given up his birthright to live his dream as a chef, something that thoroughly disgusted his family. As a child, he ran away from his lavish home and through many trials, found a new home and family. With none other than Chef Zeff, the most famous cook in the country who owned his own massive, exclusive restaurant right in the town you lived in.

Car parked, Sanji offered you the crook of his elbow as he carried a massive picnic basket in his free hand. You offered to help carry the blanket but he steadfastly refused. Opting to roll it over his shoulders instead. You were hesitant in accepting his arm but you relinquished that inner anxiety and slipped your hand through the opening he left you. While the two of you walked arm-in-arm down the garden path, it was your turn to talk about yourself.

By the time you made it to the private pond, Sanji learned about your passions, your mild interests, your favorite pastimes, and a bit of your own family history. He listened to you speak, only interjecting to question you more in depth about the things you spoke on or asking for clarification on the things he wasn’t sure he understood. He was beyond polite and you were thrilled that he was the type of person who actively listened.

Together, you placed the blanket down and unpacked the wicker basket. Sanji had prepared everything: the light finger sandwiches, the fresh fruit that was cut into heart shapes, a delicious salad with homemade dressing, caprese skewers, a small charcuterie board, a bottle of real champagne on ice and two thermoses; one with still hot tea and the other with cold water.

The food was delicious and light, it was the perfect meal for an outdoor date such at this. The weather was not too hot nor chilly, a somewhat cloudy day that partially blocked the sun but still left the sky bright. You both played the games inside the pamphlet, excited to learn more about each other and laugh together.

“Never have I ever…cooked a perfect meal,” you giggled, finishing your champagne flute.

Sanji gaped at you, “_____-chan, that was personal!” as he brought down his last finger, effectively losing the game. You laughed again, shrugging your shoulders casually.

“I’m not a very good cook so yeah, I picked low hanging fruit.”

“Cooking is a skill; I certainly wasn’t very good when I first started out. I also didn’t have an audience to taste teste and help me improve like I do now. I’m happy and privileged to be in a place where I found someone who not only adopted me into his family but also taught me everything I needed to know about being a man and chef.”

“I like your honesty, your authenticity,” you blurted out, eyes bugging a little at the sudden confession.

His eyes grew wide before he shut them close, a wide smile forming on his face.

“I like your personality and forwardness. Not afraid to say what you mean and standing by your convictions. Even if you try to shy away from it sometimes,” he chuckled as your hands tucked under your thighs.

“What are your deal breakers?” you ask.

“Hmmm. I would have to say…abusive behavior, maltreatment of food, and,” his face flushed, “people trying to get me to quit smoking. I’m a Frenchman through and through, I can’t change who I am. What about you, ______?”

You looked thoughtfully at him, “hmm well I don’t super love smoking but I wouldn’t dismiss anyone because of their vices, especially when there are much worse ones. My dealbreakers are, inability to express emotions, close-mindedness, and full blown chatterboxes. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed when someone can’t slow down for a moment of peace or silence.”

Sanji nodded his head, smiling as you explained yourself.

“I think a lot of people have things that do or don’t work for them and that’s ok. Although I am relieved to hear so far that we don’t appear to dealbreakers for each other, thus far anyways.”

You nodded in agreement, turning your head to the side when the wind picked up harshly. The two of you had been enjoying each other’s company that you hadn’t noticed the gray clouds that crept over the sky.

“Damn weather coming to rain on our parade,” he glared at the clouds. “I should take you home, don’t want you getting sick because of my selfish desire to continue our date,” he sighed.

It wasn’t how you anticipated it to end but you didn’t say anything as the two of you cleaned up your spot and walked back to the car. Though it was a bit of a rushed walk, Sanji did pause a few times to let you admire certain plants or little critters running around the flowerbeds. He squatted down to offer some squirrels the leftover cranberries and pecans from the salad dish and it made your heart do backflips.

The drive back to your home was peaceful. You conversed with each other a little but when the rain got heavy Sanji chose to focus on driving, making sure not to hit any potholes or swerve too sharply to make you sick. It allowed you time to contemplate your next move.

He held the blanket over both of you while he escorted you to your door. Pulling out your keys, you jumped when out of the corner of your eye you saw branches of lightning strike down followed by an immediate roar of thunder.

“Sanji?” he quirked his curly eyebrow at you, waiting for you to find the words you wanted to speak.

“I had a lovely time with you but I can’t knowingly let you drive in such awful weather. If you’re free and would like to, you can come inside and we can continue our date? I have plenty of DVD choices and games on my console,” you offered anxiously. Those intrusive thoughts were starting to peak in your mind as they did before your date started.

Sanji looked surprised for a moment before his eyes became heart shaped again, “_____-chan you’re so thoughtful! I would love to spend more time with you! I’ll watch any movie or play any game; you name it and I’m yours!” he excitedly chattered.

You smiled warmly at him as a cute blush spread on your face. You unlocked your front door and invited him inside, eager to see how the rest of your date would play out.

[minecraftfanatic]

"What was it like?"

Senn fiddled with Pythus' wrist, eliciting cracking from armor plate and bones. "It was fine. I mean, I got fed, had a roof over my head, and Ria kept me company."

The mention of his sister brought a smile to Senn's face, one his lover noticed and scowled. "You miss her?"

"Always," his ears droop, "always..."

"What of the others--your guardian?" lava hardened tips carded white hair, massaging Senn's scalp with hypnotic ease. "Thalleous and Osivian, yes? The former sounds familiar...yes, I remember him. He was a champion responsible for slaying multiple Voltaris camps long before the War. It was partly due to him that Ingressus sought us out."

Uh. Senn had no clue how to respond to that tidbit, so he didn't. "Osivian's strict but he was the only person willing to take me in and Thalleous-"

"Lied." Senn found himself face to face with bright eyes, one hand pushing his chin upwards and the second wrapped around his arms. "You don't smile when we talk about Osivian and ever since coming here you've grown uncomfortable when speaking on your past. Your sister is the one person you'll tell stories on. No neighbors, no friends, no family."

Senn frantically darted his eyes to the left window, earning a growl as Pythus tightened his grip, "Don't. Look. Away. Why are you lying to yourself? Running from your problems won't solve anything."

"I just don't like talking about them okay! Let go, you're hurting me!"

"Only if you state the truth," his claws relaxed a fraction, "say it. Go on, its not too hard."

"I already told you--I don't like talking about them, that's it!"

That was the wrong thing to say. Senn yelped, Pythus drawing blood bicep and chin.

"Fine. FINE! THEY HURT ME! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW!?"

Senn squirmed, attempting to leap out of Pythus' embrace. Unfortunately, while the Netheran was willing to keep his word he wasn't willing to comply with the rest of his lover's wishes, leaving the Ardoni in an awkward hug, dribbling blood down their chests, panting heavily.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Pythus crooned into his hair, stroking oh-so gently. "I warned you my star. Lying leads to denial which ends in harm and you, little light, are worth more than those sacks of seawater ever were. Listening to their words is as good as listening to a zombie." It takes a handful of minutes, full of feather-light touches and blanketed warmth, for Senn to respond.

"You hurt me too."

Pythus' expression remained unchanged. His body does not, tension still as a lake. "Is that so?" Senn's nod had him tilting his head, "Tell me. Did they hurt you for telling the truth?"

"...It didn't matter what I said."

"Do they apologize?"

"Same as before."

"Exactly," Tension seeped out of his frame, Pythus renewing his ministrations. "I asked and listened and believed. I warned you, cared for you, saved you." Delivering a tender kiss to both of Senn's horns Pythus whispered, "I told the truth. Which do you believe--my word or theirs?"

Maybe Senn spoke his answer too softly. Maybe he didn't. All Pythus knew was that his lover's horns and hair made for a fitting halo in his sleep.

Ah, rulership was a difficult career. He could have an hour to himself, recuperating and plotting over his next gift. Nothing too concealing, he wanted his little star to shine. Horn rings were out, unless he found one that didn't block his light, and the majority of his body made it difficult. Honestly, at this rate the only viable option was...

Ah. Of course, he was being ridiculous. Why go for something over elaborate when he simply needed to showcase their status?

"Now the real question," Pythus mutters, fondling Senn's ears. "Quartz or ruby?"

[gayvampyr]

people often falsely think that labor is evenly divided between a homemaker and a breadwinner, and because the way patriarchal society is structured it favors men as the latter and women as the former (operating on a specifically heterosexual model), and so women’s contributions, efforts and labor are naturally undervalued and seen at best as equal to their male counterpart’s, but more often, as a single menial task that occupies merely a fraction of their otherwise unbusy lives.

this misogynistic perspective undercuts the actual scope of what being a homemaker actually demands. when a person goes to work a standard job from 9 to 5, typically their job description includes a specific set of tasks that all fall under one category; in other words, it’s one job for one person. but when you look at a person who tends to the chores and responsibilities in a home including childcare, you can easily see that they are doing several jobs at once. stay-at-home parents carry the weight of house cleaning, dish washing, grocery shopping, laundry, tax filing, meal cooking, paying the bills, and acting as chauffeur for their children to school and extracurriculars, often all on their own. this job is not one you get to come home from. it is a 24/7 effort, no weekends off or vacation days. this is not an equal division of labor. this is why feminists often stress the importance of help from their partner in the household. having a family, maintaining a home is a group effort that cannot be left to a sole individual. yes, even if you worked all day and are tired: you are not the only one who feels this way. give your partner a break.

[colleendoran]

Hi!! Congratulations on absolutely smashing that Kickstarter! I was actually wondering the same thing the other person asked about: in the hopefully extremely unlikely scenario of Amazon depriving us of season 3, could we potentially crowdfund it? We did conjure up a million in a day, there's no telling how much we could amass for our happy ending. Do you think that this would be an option?

I am definitely not the person to ask. Only those who own rights to the show have the ability to act on any of this.

Even if they did want to do a Kickstarter to raise money, I wouldn't know what their contract with the studio says about the matter. If Amazon chooses not to renew, remember they may still hold the rights for some time after, which could prevent the project from being moved elsewhere for awhile.

Or not. I don't know.

I am not privy to these matters. I am adapting the book to graphic novel, and nothing else.

Publishing, licensing, and film/TV deals are incredibly complicated. I used to be a creator rights advocate, and yet I was always running into new iterations of horror whenever I read a contract. Agents and managers are there for a reason. They have to stay on top of these things. One sentence in a contract can change your life.

And since I'm also a former self publisher - one of the creators who was part of the original self published comics boom of the early 1990's - I have plenty of experience with just how complicated creating and producing a major print project by yourself is.

It's expensive, and time consuming, and when I was doing it all, I barely had any time left to create the art.

I can say this: a million dollars is only a fraction of the amount that would be needed to produce one episode of Good Omens.

That would be one mighty Kickstarter, though.

The Good Omens fandom is a powerful and glorious force.

But right now, the show is out of my hands and above my pay grade.

[ecccentrick]

To commemorate Ripley vs Lady Maria in @handsome-girl-competition, @vilesssserpent and I asked each other a very important question...

Why don't they kiss instead?

Enjoy the culmination of our crack ship.

Also congrats to Ripley!

The tolling of a clocktower reverberates through Ripley's body, echoing in her mind and vibrating her eyes in their sockets.

Breathing in so quickly she almost chokes, Ripley immediately knows she's in a dream. The feeling in the air is thick and heavy, passively oppressive.

Expectant.

Waiting.

Hesitantly, Ripley opens her eyes. She's lying supine on a patch of tall, dying flowers wet with blood. The sun is wrong, like the sky wants to devour it, the light weak on her sensitive eyes. Sitting up slowly, Ripley sees what woke her up.

It really is a clocktower.

Bare feet crunching fallen petals underfoot, Ripley takes in her surroundings.

Behind her, an open door. Before her, a closed one. Carefully, she heads for the former, glancing over the threshold. There's a mess of limbs and bulbous heads, rancid blood coating the floors and walls like there was a downpour inside. She walks into a puddle by accident, red splashing up her bare legs.

She suppresses a gag.

There's a chance that whatever killed these… things, people—alien in shape—is still inside. Or, they could be within the clocktower. Perhaps they killed each other, and there is no other culprit.

Only one way to find out.

The further away she steps from the open door, the less the stink assaults her nose. Bloody footprints are left behind, headed toward the clocktower.

The door is heavy, her biceps and shoulders straining. It opens slowly, ominously.

A small set of stairs greet Ripley. Atop of them, she can see the clock, frozen. The sickly light trickles through the gaps, casting eerie shadows down, framing the lone chair in the back, the slumped figure in it still.

The only sound now is the trickle of blood, a slow drip.

This person could be a decoy, a trap. Or she could need help, caught in this dream like a fly in a sticky web.

Fuck it.

As Ripley gets closer, the floorboards creaking with each step, she can make out more details. The woman has light blonde hair, almost blending into her bloodless skin. Red coats her cravat, her sleeves. Her head, adorned with a hat, is slumped at an awkward angle. She smells strongly of lifeblood, a puddle gathering around her, but not the rotting kind of before.

She looks dead.

Ripley slowly reaches towards her, only to have her wrist caught in a bruising grip. No longer slumped, the woman leans her face to Ripley's, whispering.

"A corpse… should be left well alone."

A chill runs through Ripley, adrenaline kicking in like a flash fire through her veins, cauterizing the impulse to flee in panic at the source. Still, her heart rabbits in her chest, lungs desperately gasping for breath.

The woman pauses, before she leans in even further, cold breath fanning against Ripley's lips. Blue eyes catch brown, narrowing in contemplation.

"You're no hunter," the woman finally says, voice lyrical and lilting, with an accent Ripley can't quite place.

"And you're not dead."

"We're all dead here, in more ways than one… except for you, that is. Why is that so?"

Ripley attempts to loosen the woman's grip on her wrist, but the hold is akin to steel.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

The woman leans back just enough to study Ripley, who is clad in only her shirt and underwear.

In other words, severely underdressed.

Her pale lips quirk for a fraction of a second before they set back into their former grave expression.

Standing without letting go of Ripley, towering over her, the woman gently, delicately releases her wrist. The hand instead slowly trails up Ripley's forearm, brushing against her elbow, tickling the underside of her bicep, before the woman's arm crooks around Ripley's shoulder. Supporting her at her upper back.

They're slowly drawn together, torso to torso. On the other side gloved fingers trail from her collarbone to the middle of Ripley's breasts, slightly to the left.

She shivers. Surely this woman must feel her heart hammering at her ribs?

The lady bends her neck, lips brushing an earlobe. "You are not meant to be here. You are not meant for this nightmare."

With a bitter voice, Ripley replies, "I already live in one. This one is actually pretty nice so far."

"Trading one nightmare for another is the way of things, is it not? But, my dear, you have nothing to seek here but misery."

Being held so gently, so sweetly is anything but a misery to Ripley in this moment, even as fingers gently press deeper against her. Breath brushes skin, gooseflesh rising.

Drawing away from her ear to speak almost against her lips, the woman says, "I will liberate you from this place."

Each word brushes feather light on her mouth, before she is kissed first at the corner, then wholly on her lips. Ripley gasps, and not from the hand that swiftly enters her chest cavity, ceasing any breath at all.

The last thing she remembers before awakening is being carefully lowered to the wooden floor, the weak light haloing pale hair, pale skin, pale lips. Fresh, vivid red coating a solemn face.

[irismfrost]

August 12 - Kyoto Guided Tour and Fushimi Inari Shrine

Today I booked a guided tour for 10:30am. This means I had an early day because it takes an hour to get to Kyoto from Osaka, not including the time to buy a ticket or for me to get ready and eat breakfast (I am so glad I pre-bought hotel breakfast). By the end of my journey, I figured out how to use the self serve electronic ticket machine. In my tour, there was a family from New York and their son actually had the same name as my dad and brother, and is the first person I've ever met with his same name. There was also a mother-son duo from Zürich, Switzerland. And our tour guide was Kareem who is from Quebec and has been living in Japan for 5 years. His wife is Japanese and they have a one year old daughter that they're bringing to Canada in November for the first time. It was nice to make friends with everyone and honestly to just have human interaction in a language I know. We started in the bamboo forest and went to the nearby Shinto shrine. Then we went to the former home and garden of a famous Japanese movie star, Denjirō Ōkōchi, called Ōkōchi Sansō. This was his second home and he died one year after building it. It has themes of zen Buddhism, a popular sect of Buddhism here. Here, we stopped for a little break; there was a rest area with tea and some cold drinks. I hadn't tried Calpis yet (they had it in Taiwan) because the name threw my off but they had some here and it was actually delicious. We left the bamboo forest and walked to a zen Buddhist garden called Sogenchi Teien. It was a beautiful Japanese zen garden and is a classic example of a zen garden. These places intentionally make the steps a little rockier to make you walk slower and appreciate the nature around you, which I thought was a cool design technique. Before we broke for lunch, we tried some foods: we had this rice patty thing (which was basically what the outside of mochi is) and I bought some and will need to eat it right when I fly back to Florida because it expires on 8/20. We also tried this sesame chili spice topping (with rice) and I bought some of that too. We broke for lunch and our guide helped me find some vegetarian food and he joined me because by the time I ordered food we only had like 30 mins left for lunch and I told him about Taiwan. It's on his bucket list. We also took a brief stop by this Kimono park thing which had a bunch of poles with the Kimono fabric. Our last stop was a mountain with monkeys. It does not compare to monkey mountain in Taiwan, definitely more commercialized and a fraction of the hike, but it was pretty cool. You get to feed the monkeys through the wire cage and their hands feel like human hands which is a little unsettling but makes sense. There was also this cute little baby monkey and later I saw his mom carrying him around and back to the safety of the mountains away from the people. And that was the end of our tour.

Our guide and some of the other people in our group suggested I should visit Fushimi Inari Shrine - so I did. This is a very famous Shinto shrine and is known for its thousands of torii gates that lead to Mount Inari. The gates are basically sponsors and are an avenue for Kami (the god-like spirits) to enter through (that's why you are supposed to walk on the sides- to give spirits room to walk through the middle). Inari is the Shinto goddess of rice (perceived gender has changed over time, but in ancient times Inari is depicted as female). Today, Inari's domain is more than rice; over time rice was generalized to agriculture which is now just business. You pray to Inari for success in business. I prayed at a few different shrines along the way and I prayed at the top of Mount Inari. I will say taking pictures at religious monuments makes me a little uncomfortable and feels a little wrong. It supposed to be a sacred site and there you are making sure you take a picture of yourself to post - just seems a little disrespectful to the faith I guess is what I'm saying. And honestly, I took some pictures of my experience too and they will probably end up on Instagram so I'm being hypocritical. But I will say, some of these people are taking pictures of themselves with professional cameras in the middle of crowds holding everyone up, some are leaning on the torii, some people wait in the middle of the path for other people to pass them to get a picture. It just feels like the reason they're there is for a picture and not to immerse themselves in a culture. As you got closer to the top, there were less people because there are many opportunities to cut the loop short- it is a long and mountainous loop. And by the time I got back down, all of the tourist shops were closed so I didn't get any trinkets or charms.

This was a HIKE. I was basically doing stairmaster for an hour and a half. I was very dehydrated and even ate my emergency snack and laid down for a second. I had some protein (20g) chocolate milk from the convenience store before and after my visit to the temple and was very hungry so I picked up this bento box at the train station so that I wouldn't have to leave the hotel after I got there. It was so nasty. They didn't have anything vegetarian so I settled for fish and I didn't even eat it. The egg loaf saved me on the protein side. And I had the probiotic drink for dessert. yum. Those probiotic drinks are very popular on this side of the world.

When I flipped on the TV in the hotel today, I found myself on a news channel that was in English, but was for China. Consumers are spending more on services than goods. Consumption is also growing in China overall. Consumption is also less quantity and more quality oriented. I think these are trends that the rest of the world will see as well (at least for large first world countries like the US). When the weather turned on, I noticed that Taiwan was considered a part of China and it just hit me how even though Taiwan is so independent and has so much of its own identity, it still has a conflicting political stance. When I was there, I was in Taiwan, not the Republic of China (imo, for legal reasons).

more pictures in next post

[inversionimpulse]

so a propos of absolutely nothing, I was thinking about Doctor Who.

Turn Left, specifically.

"'Labor camps'... that's what they called them last time. It's happening again," even more specifically.

As far as I've seen, most people online connected that to the nazis and the holocaust. But my family has a history with labor camps, and that's not what I heard in that scene.

I heard echoes of "No Japs from the Rockies to the seas."

During WW2, here in Canada where I write from, 850 German-Canadians, 700 Italian-Canadians, and 22000 Japanese Canadians were forced out of their homes and into labor camps, sometimes straight into POW camps and frequently separated from their families, by our government. People were made to live in literal stables and barns, or else build their own homes from nearly nothing. They were forced to do back-breaking work for below-subsistence money - and they did indeed have to pay for the privilege of being treated like animals. The government "took temporary custody" of every single thing the Japanese prisoners owned and sold them for fractions of their material value, never mind sentimental value. When it was all over, they were tossed out the other side of the affair with not a single thing to their names but the trauma and, for the Japanese, eviction from the west coast where most of them lived - for some, from the country entirely.

This was neither the start nor the end of the persecution of German, Italian, and Japanese Canadians.

"The Italian South Peasant is not the type we are looking for in Canada."

"Take them back to Japan. They do not belong here, and here, and there is only one solution to the problem."

My grandmother and grandfather, second-generation Japanese immigrants, survived those camps. My family still suffers the repercussions as generational trauma.

I don't know if there was anything similar in Britain. I'd assume so, but I'm not going to check because I'm only partly talking about if this is a supportable interpretation of the writing, I'm mostly talking about how it resonated with me. (but I don't think the victims in the show being an Italian family was a coincidence)

It is certainly worse to be a nazi than the people behind the internment for whom there isn't a catchy name. I'm not about to say that the suffering my family and all those other Japanese, German, and Italian families were put through compares in any way to the suffering of Jewish families in nazi territory. But the meaning behind Wilf's horror takes a very different edge depending on who you see behind it. And I personally think that "We're becoming like Them, we're being corrupted" is a much weaker horror than "We're still like Us, we haven't learned better at all" In fact when contrasted like that, the former looks almost like the fear of being infected by the Other that caused the internment camps to begin with.

The latter, on the other hand, forces us to contend with the fact that there is no Them. We, all we humans, are Us. The existence of Them is mere illusion, and fear of it makes us commit a grand and abstract sort of suicide.

It's a message that Doctor Who frequently tries to convey and sometimes bungles. In fact it is a message that so many different things try to convey so frequently that it has become a little bit trite. But it's a message to be proud of, especially when you can deliver it so viciously and powerfully.

[kevin-sedai]

The WOT Nielsen numbers are worrying me a lot, they're 44% of what they were last season for the first 3 episodes not only did they not get better but they got so much worse and idk if we might even get a s4 let alone the entire 8 seasons they have planned. I love the show but it's not popular at all, the big shows for example on Twitter get dozens if not hundreds of tweets with 10k likes or more, wot barely even has a few that surpass 1k. TSITP which costs a fraction of WOT and is half its length got similar numbers. Bezos is a huge fan of the expanse and they still cancelled it with 3 books left and a cut final season with 6 instead of 10 eps

To be honest, I haven't really kept up with the ratings. But if that's the case, I'm not surprised. I got two people to try to watch the show, and one person is still watching it and enjoys it, but the other couldn't get past ep 3 of last season. The fact that this is a large world with a lot of lore and it's only getting 8 episodes makes it difficult to do. The last few episodes I thought were very good, because they let the story build the world instead of trying to do world building by spending a whole episode explaining a concept.

Other problems are the media saying it's a "new game of thrones" and people who don't want any changes from the books. The former being ridiculous. There's no reason why every fantasy show has to be compared to GoT, especially when that series isn't done by the author and the show ended so abysmally. The latter, I can understand. The story is so important to people that they're protective of it and they want it done justice.

I've liked seeing the characters I love so much on screen. I like going in my character tags on here and seeing faces to them. Josha has been killing it as Rand. You can tell he cares for the character and how he portrays him. And my best friend, Maddeline, is getting all the awards for her work this season (I do, in fact, make those rules lol). So, if the show does get pulled, I'm just here for the ride until that happens.

I hope they ride the momentum from the last three episodes. These were the best of the series, in my opinion. And if they continue in the direction they're going, I think they'll get to keep going. I hope we get all 8 seasons they planned, though. It feels like Wheel of Time to me, and that's all I could ask for

[cordycepsbian]

hihihigihi uhh

can you name some of your ocs?-

haven't seen much of any i dont thingk. or maybe i just am blind

that's fair we don't have our toyhouse linked anywhere and that only has a fraction of our ocs listed on it

bugs fable ocs;

chrys - never talked about them before whoops. from our bug fables future headcanons. they're a cuckoo wasp and they're on an explorer team with tod and terrie mop - everyone knows mop. the star of the show

synth - evil roach lady. came from the giant's lair and tried to start snakemouth lab 2: electric boogaloo. she's like if soul master was a girl kind of bernie - most divorced poor little meow meow bee man ever. got kicked out of the hive because cosmic horrors happened to him. vi's dad but that's not really relevant they don't know each other ilon & lilly - butterfly and beetle on an explorer team. kind of side characters in future bug fables iris - cute and trustworthy mantis lady who runs a diner and definitely doesn't cook people checkers - zombee who is two different bees sewn together. former nurse in one life. unwillingly pulled into synth's schemes mint - zombeetle who escaped the lab to try and find his former explorer partner. not going well for him latte - baby zombiant. just a little guy sammy - zombie fly with a different kind of fungus than the cordyceps ones. got sent to bee kingdom zombie jail until the doctor who made it like that let it escape penny - the doctor who did that to sammy. it was an accident she swears marshmallow - peacock spider who started mimicking bugs and living in society just for a laugh

and our hollows knights

caprice - nosk who disguises herself as a traveling musician. reads minds to find familiar tunes and plays them for her victims. our personal favorite to draw ollie - ant that got splashed with the death pheromone and kicked out of his colony for it. traveled with caprice before getting infected and dying for real

celadon - mantis who left the tribe to pursue a more peaceful lifestyle. is just vibing in greenpath now flower pot - vessel that celadon adopted. likes being painted on capt. geo-eye - earwig pirate captain. quite literally has a piece of geo where his eye should be. currently plundering the abandoned kingdom of hallownest treasure chest - vessel that geo-eye adopted. a little ruffian that attacks ankles

and our rains worlds

uncrossed finish line - senior of their local group. thought sliver of straw was onto something. worked so hard to replicate her that they overheated and collapsed deep impression of a fang - junior of the same group. looked up to finish line and was devastated when they died. tried to purpose an organism strong enough to kill him after that happened flightless birds - second youngest of the group. bit of a silly goose. spends more time talking in group chats and having fun than doing work. in her lane. unbothered. flourishing monday morning sunrise - second oldest of the group. eepy. spends 100 cycles to do anything empire of ants - firm Middle Child. ascribes to the same thinking of a benefactor monk. never talks to anyone ever three glowing scales - no local group because they're in the middle of the ocean. makes a lot of purposed creatures to send messages across the sea ever-flowing rapids - purposed slugcat made by 3gs. true aquatic scug that can breathe underwater and move at speed. rivulet's ancestor the crusader - purposed slugcat made by dioaf. the thing that was intended to kill him. gets stronger the higher its karma is the trickster - purposed slugcat made by nsh. exists to send memes. can change colors to mimic predators the sleepwalker - normal slugcat that got hit on the head and can't sleep now. always gets shelter failures and special night creatures attack them the symbiosis - used to be our scugsona but now they're just vibing. full of fungus. kills bugs instantly but gets hurt by sunlight two splinters of wood under tropical leaves - benefactor that lived on mms. ran a shelter for purposed organisms that outlived their usefulness. number one enjoyer of weird little critters muddy water running through steel canals - benefactor that lived on looks to the moon. mechanic that dabbles in bioengineering. invented miros birds so you can all get mad at aer for that shrill ringing noise, a broken spear - benefactor that used to live on dioaf. got banished to the surface for assassinating a council member. living the creature life now

[dearestones]

Near with SPK! Reader Headcanons

Warnings: Spoilers for Season 2 of Death Note. 

Anonymous Request: Could I have headcanons of Near with a darling that is part of the Special Provision for Kira and was among the few that survived the Mafia's attack with the Death Note alongside Rester, Gevanni and Lidner?

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When Near first met you, it was because he was in the middle of interviewing and profiling all of the other members of the team that he was going to assign to his special task force, the Special Provision for Kira. There were at least a couple dozen former CIA and FBI members who were staunchly anti-Kira, but he was still cautious and pored through numerous documents detailing several profiles and comments regarding all those that he wanted for his investigation. When he reached yours, he took notes of your achievements and who you were as a person.

It would be folly to interview his choices in person, so he sent in a proxy to gauge how you would act under supervision and in interviews. Much to his surprise, he found that you were quite capable and adept on your feet. For every question, you answered truthfully and with a spark of creativity and earnestness that had Near simultaneously baffled and intrigued. He had deduced that you were a worthy candidate, but even he had to admit that documentation had only a fraction of what made you who you were.

As soon as it was announced that you were to join the Special Provision for Kira, he introduced you to the rest of the team. Near is more than familiar with the intricacies of puzzles and Rube Goldberg machines—he likes knowing how pieces fit together and how different aspects of the whole interact with each other. Because of this, he has the highest of expectations when he sees the very few members of his team work together.

Near has high expectations and he is also very pragmatic. There is no room for mistakes, only improvement and an opportunity for learning. He has no favorites, but he tries his best to vet missions and investigations that are best suited to your talents and purview. Every piece in the grand plan has a part to play, no matter how small. 

It all comes to a head where your loyalty is tested once more. Near knew that there could have been a chance where there was a spy planted in his group, but it was still somewhat shocking and a disappointment all at once. Because of that, Mello had retrieved the SPK’s Death Note and had managed to one up the team. However, Near is not just concerned with the whereabouts of the Death Note.

Puzzle pieces do tend to go missing, especially when one grows up with many peers under one roof. Near has had his fair share of puzzles no longer coming together because of that loss, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling aggravated that his sole purpose has been thwarted. In the aftermath of the mafia’s attack, Near makes sure that all of his members that are still left alive still have the sanity and the wherewithal to continue their mission. 

Detailed reports from past investigations were already an indicator that traumatic events could severely impact a person’s work ethic and that affected persons could suffer from trauma. Near knows this and he already knows that there might be some who might want to back away while they still have their life.

If you choose to leave, Near won’t hold that against you. Because of your help, the SPK managed to continue on with their investigation. They have already lost a lot of their members, but Near knows how to make do. Kira will fall. The SPK will win with or without you.

If you choose to stay, Near will only nod in affirmation. This was an expected outcome and one that he knows will yield results. 

Either way, the mafia’s attack proves two things: 1) You’re loyal and committed to bringing Kira down and 2) You are as skilled and as competent as what your documentation has said. 

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If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

DEATH NOTE MASTERLIST

[nathanxcline]

Waking Up From a Dream

It had all been a whirlwind.

Fourth quarter, three point gap, charging down the field with none other than Nathan Cline in the lead. He rallied his team into the huddle, telling them the plan in practiced code that felt like a second language to him now. He lined up with the men that had been by his side for two and a half years - they were family to him now. Calling out the play, his eyes raked the defense, checking for any unknowns that could blow their chances at making it to the goal line.

They were so close.

“Hut!”

The ball was in Nathan’s hands in a fraction of a second. The line in front of him surged forward to protect him from the oncoming storm of larger than life men. He dropped back, searching the field for the opening he expected to be there. Finding it, he wrenched his arm back, clutching the ball, and then swung forward and let it fly. His eyes were on his target, not on his blind side.

The defensive lineman hit him from the left at almost the same second the ball left his fingertips. It jarred him hard and carried him to the ground. There was a distinct crunch when he hit the turf, the weight of the lineman coming down on top of him. It wouldn’t be until a week later that he would watch the footage of his injury and see the disgusting angle his arm turned beneath him as his throwing shoulder collided with the ground.

He didn’t feel anything at first… and then he felt everything. A cry flew from his lips just as the whistle blew to signal the touchdown.

And then everything went dark.

Nathan would learn in the following days what had happened from play to field to ambulance to hospital to surgery to waking up. They couldn’t wake him on the field, nor did they want to move him. His team surrounded him for half an hour until an ambulance drove onto the field to collect him as safely as possible. The game was ended while the former star quarterback with all the potential in the world was taken away.

His fathers, both doctors, insisted only the best of the best reconstruct their son’s shoulder.

Nathan wouldn’t see the chaos in the hospital that night. He wouldn’t know how many people showed up, family and friends. The entire football team crowded the waiting room one by one, coming straight from the game, dressed in their sweats and asking everyone who worked there for an update. Eventually, the coach told them all to go home. He would personally let them know when there was something to know.

It wasn't good news.

Nathan would feel that love in the coming week through flowers, cards, balloons, and countless visitors. Not only football players but other students from his school who knew him even marginally because of football. Despite having his arm and torso in a cast to keep his shoulder stable, he felt incredibly blessed by the outpouring of support for his recovery.

And yet, in the blur of faces and condolences, all he would feel was a numbness he’d never experienced before while he came to terms with the end of his dream.