#gone in the morning

[heavens-moonlight]

𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐄𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟣𝟦

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠! 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐈’𝐯𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐭! 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭, 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟-𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐈 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐬𝐨 𝐈’𝐦 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐒𝟐, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐁𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝…𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐡𝐚! 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰! 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨! 🧟‍♀️♡ ♡ ♡

[ 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 ]

“Although it has been several months since the Korea Disease Control and Prevention Agency’s early failure at identifying what’s now dubbed the “Zombie Virus,” no further findings have been established, calling into question the extent of progress. As it is impossible to ascertain incubation period, the organization opposed ending the quarantine of Hyosan residents. All across the nation, donations are pouring in, in support of those who have been living in seclusion all this time…”

The announcement resonates through overhead speakers as you follow On-Jo outside, shadowing her steps to the sound of gravel crunching beneath your boots.

On-Jo stuffs her hands in her thick jacket pockets and stares wistfully at the refuge's chain-linked fence, strewn with satin and silk ribbons where words of remembrance are etched onto its surface. A few months ago, you had tied up four in row, one for I-Sak, Gyeong-Su, Nam-Ra, and another for Cheong-San, but they have long since been swallowed up by other additions on the daily.

Breathing out on a long sigh, a puff of air suspends in front of On-Jo for a few seconds, before it too, disappears like the sudden cold breeze that brushes past.

When did winter arrive without your noticing?

“I’m going to take a little stroll around,” On-Jo says, turning to you. Extending her hand, she opens her palm up and inside rests a dark red ribbon.

Cheong-San’s favorite color.

You smile faintly and nod in understanding as she closes her fingers delicately around the satiny fabric, eventually leaving to make her way to the overcrowded barrier.

Diverted, you watch as Mi-Jin stands with a sign hanging proudly over her neck. Peeking, you try to view the lines of text from your perpendicular position to it: High school seniors who suffered the ZOMBIE attack must be given special admissions into colleges.

A middle aged woman ambles up to Mi-Jin amidst some very odd background stares at the blunt plea and pats her on the shoulder. “Aigoo,” she drawls out. “My daughter is a senior too.” You hold back your laughter as she pats Mi-Jin on the cheek, whose face immediately scrunches up in distaste. “You poor, poor thing.”

In Mi-Jin like fashion, she cusses and kicks the ground before shuffling away in the other direction, causing you to giggle, shaking your head at the scene.

Aimlessly, you walk around, finding the grounds teeming with more evacuees than you initially thought. Despite so many people, there was only one person you wanted to see.

Finally catching sight of Su-Hyeok, you soften your steps and stop right by his side. Unaware, he has his eyes closed, face turned up towards the sky as he leans against an unoccupied mounted tent.

It’s rare for the weather to be anything more than cloudy now that it’s nearing the winter solstice, the sunshine a precious commodity.

You bask in the light, a sign of hope for the people who couldn't wait to escape the darkness altogether.

Fondly, you observe as the morning sunbeam falls on Su-Hyeok’s face and you think maybe, just maybe, you’re a little bit in love with him.

“Su-Hyeok.”

His eyes sluggishly flutter open against the sudden onslaught of light, and he raises one hand up to shield against it, craning toward the voice calling out to him, squinting in focus.

When Su-Hyeok’s gaze lands on you, a grin spreads across his face, uncontrollable. He stretches out a hand toward you and pulls you down, making space next to him. He sits as close as possible even though there’s space to spare.

“Where have you been? I couldn’t find you all morning.”

“I was with On-Jo, but nowadays, I can only seem to bring myself to either see you or her. I want to approach the rest, but I couldn’t. In case it would remind me…”

You lay your head on his shoulder and he rests his own atop yours softly. “Can you forget if you do so?”

Exhaling, you shut your eyes and shift ever closer. “It’d be great if we had a reset button,” you murmur regretfully. “I’d like to forget all this ever happened. If only I could, I’d like to forget everything.”

“Even me?”

You straighten your head, lifting it from the crook of Su-Hyeok’s shoulder line and look up, thinking he’s simply joking, but his eyes remain fixated on your face, taking in its every feature tenderly.

“How could I ever want to forget you?”

He draws you in toward him by the back of your head and places a featherlight kiss on your forehead.

“Good,” he teases. “I was starting to think you wanted to replace me.”

You laugh, the sound released airy and light for the first time in a long time. “Is that what worries you?”

“Sometimes, but then I remember you’re stuck with me forever.”

You knock your shoulder into his chest playfully. “Keep dreaming.”

"Maybe I will,” he whispers longingly, and with the sun shining brilliantly above you, suddenly there’s a warmth there that can’t be contained.

“You know,” you begin a bit later. “After having snuck out with On-Jo past curfew last night and seeing a flickering glow in the distance, I think someone lit a fire on the school’s rooftop.”

“The rooftop? Are you sure?”

“I may be mistaken, but there’s a plaguing sensation that won’t let me ignore it. Nam-Ra did say that we should light a campfire if we miss one another. On-Jo also plans on returning, tonight."

“I’ll go with you,” Su-Hyeok declares quickly, almost afraid you would reject the idea.

“I know you will.” You smile to yourself. “Just…don’t let the others catch on. It could be dangerous, and I’d rather not burden them more. Let’s go by ourselves.”

You feel Su-Hyeok bobbing his head in agreement against yours. “I won’t tell a soul.”

“Does this feel like a happy ending for all of us?” you voice out, curious. “For you?”

Su-Hyeok laces your fingers together, hand completely engulfing yours. “I can’t speak for the rest of us, but it’s clear, for me.”

“What is?”

“You’re my happy ending.”

When night falls, you walk hand in hand with Su-Hyeok to meet up with On-Jo behind the facility. He stuffs your joined hands inside one of his pockets and your heart melts at the sweet gesture.

On the last step however, you’re pulled out of your reverie as you look up, only to be met with the faces of the entire group.

On-Jo stares at you with a cute scowl, attempting to appear angry, arms crossed over her chest. It only serves to makes her look smaller and every bit less intimidating, all bundled up in heavy winter clothes, but she’d probably kill you if you voiced that out loud.

“I told you not to tell anyone.”

You turn to Su-Hyeok and whack him on the chest. “You agreed on keeping it a secret.”

Su-Hyeok turns to Dae-Su, sheepishly avoiding both yours and On-Jo’s glares. “Yah, what did I tell you?!”

You cluck your tongue and Dae-Su whips his head toward Ha-Ri. “Noona, I said this matter was between us.”

Ha-Ri shakes her head fervently, jutting a finger toward Mi-Jin who was currently sitting spread eagle and smoking. “This one said she’d report to the cops if we didn’t take her. It’s dangerous to let her loose.”

On-Jo snorts incredulously and you look on in disbelief.

How did you all manage to get out alive?

Chucking the cigarette butt to the ground, Mi-Jin snuffs it out with the toe of her shoe. “Fuck who told who. I want to do something reckless rather than wasting away here. They won’t grant me special admission anyhow.”

“How is that remotely related to this?” Dae-Su asks, entirely confused. “We’ll be locked up for disobeying orders if we get caught and there goes any chances you have at special admissions.”

“I’d rather go to jail if I can’t get into college. At least I’ll be fed and given a place to sleep in,” Mi-Jin grumbles. Noticing how everyone’s at a loss for words on how to reply, she waves it off indifferently, unable to stand the silence. “What, are we going to stand here and gawk at each other all night, or…?”

“You’re seriously going? All of you?” you question disbelievingly.

“Even you three also?” On-Jo adds in, eyeing Wu-Jin, Joon-Yeong, and Hyo-Ryung to the side.

“You kiddos aren’t the only ones who feel indebted. We’re all tormented inside, much like you. Being alone doesn’t lessen the survivor’s guilt or make these after-thoughts hurt any less.”

The words sink in and you glance to meet eyes with On-Jo, who concedes lightly with a nod.

One by one, you all scale the wall and travel back on the winding path through the woods, helpless against feelings of déjà vu, the memory of running past here before to get away.

Now you’re taking steps back toward it.

Ha-Ri taps you on the shoulder and points to the distance. “I see a light. Do you?”

It’s hard to see in the dark, everything vague and seemingly an illusion.

“Where?” Hyo-Ryung steps forward, peering every which way to get a glimpse.

Ha-Ri scoots both you and Hyo-Ryung a smidge closer to the edge of the hill, gesturing once more. “Right…there.”

“Oh!” Hyo-Ryung exclaims. “That really is our school.”

You all descend the hill in succession and make it to the abandoned construction zone in no time at all, wandering through cautiously, relying on minimal cones of light.

On-Jo has her father’s black flashlight gripped securely in hand, pausing often to shine at the floor, seemingly looking for something.

Out of all the flashlights, hers shine the brightest in the dark.

“Woah, it’s a total wreck in here,” Wu-Jin quips, considering the damage.

“Tell me about it,” Joon-Yeong supplies, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose.

“On-Jo,” you call out, and she snaps out of her trance, gazing your way. “We should continue on.”

She walks side by side with you as you all climb the surprisingly intact steps. “I don’t know why, but my instincts tell me it’s Nam-Ra.”

“I hope it’s Nam-Ra,” you reply, pushing the rooftop door outward.

It opens easily.

Everyone scatters around explore what’s left of the rooftop, and you lean forward over the ledge, this time checking to make sure Gwi-Nam wouldn’t emerge unexpectedly from the shadows.

When you pivot back around, Wu-Jin’s appearance makes you jump, and you hold a hand over your chest.

“Sorry!” His eyes widen in alarm. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shake your hands in front of you, refuting. “No, it’s okay, I was too lost in my own thoughts.”

He shuffles his feet restlessly, and as you’re about to ask, he speaks up.

“I know this is probably abrupt but when have our conversations been otherwise?” You listen intently as he plows on. “I would’ve liked to keep my emotions to myself, but since it was revealed by accident…” Wu-Jin verbalizes in a rush of words as he inhales before speaking again. “…I’ll say what I need to say. Just…thank you for being my hope through this journey, even if I wasn’t yours. As for my feelings…I’ll take care of them.” He breathes out shakily as he extends his hand out to you. You mirror the movement, placing your hand in his unhesitatingly. “I hope we can still remain good friends.”

Your smile is sincere, and so is his. “After all we’ve been through together, we’ll always be great friends to the end. I’m touched you reserved such good feelings for me, Wu-Jin.” You give his hand a final squeeze and he lingers for a second before letting go.

“Maybe in another life.”

With one last genuine smile, he walks away, and you take notice of how his steps are lighter leaving than when they advanced.

You turn to your left to see On-Jo unmoving, eyes set intently on the night sky above, moon on high.

She does acknowledge your presence when you stand beside her, but doesn’t take her eyes off the heavens.

Contemplating along with her, even as light snow falls around the edges of your face, and starlight shines on the rims of your eyes, you don’t mind the feeling.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Cheong-San,” On-Jo answers honestly, hands placed on the ledge’s surface. “For some reason, even more so tonight than usual.”

“I’m sure he misses you too,” you respond, with all the conviction in the world.

“We have everything in the end, just not each other.”

You close your eyes against a snowflake, and it lands on your eyelid before thawing swiftly.

“But maybe you do.”

“How so?”

“He’ll always be with you in your heart, and when you think of him, I’m sure he knows exactly how much you miss him.”

On-Jo raises a pointer finger upward at a twinkling light in the star field, almost as though she can touch it if she reaches forward. “Cheong-San, tonight the North Star shines a little brighter, and I know it’s you guiding me toward a day where we'll meet again."

Right as she finishes sending off her message, a shooting star sails across, reflecting off your eyes, and you both make a silent wish before the group gathers together again.

Snow is scattering endlessly now, cold air seeping into your bones, but still, the fire burns strongly in the middle.

Despite the wind, the flames flicker steadily, much like a heartbeat.

“Who do you think came here to do this?” Hyo-Ryung sweeps her gaze back and forth across the rooftop, finding it completely empty.

“Maybe….” Dae-Su starts as he scratches his head in thought. “Maybe there are others who came back here like us.”

“I’m willing to bet it was Nam-Ra,” you throw in, gazing into the fire. “She sent this signal because she wishes to see us.”

“How do you know that?” Hyo-Ryung inquires calmly.

“I don’t, but I think I do.”

“You always know.”

Nam-Ra.

You whip around and run straight for her. “You really made it, just as you promised.”

“Prez…” Dae-Su greets from the back, emotional.

Nam-Ra’s lips lift upward slightly. “Am I still the classroom president even now?”

On-Jo steps up next to you. “Are you okay? How have you been?”

Nam-Ra scans everyone’s faces and grins brighter. “I’ve thought about you all a lot, and wanted to see you so bad, but I didn’t think I should. Even if I miss you dearly.”

You grab her arm gently. “No, it’s great that you’re here now. You can come with us.”

She doesn’t brush you off, but her word alone is as much a refusal as anything. “I have things to attend to here that I can’t yet leave behind.”

“Like what?” On-Jo watches Nam-Ra keenly. “More important than staying with us?”

“A lot of things,” Nam-Ra replies vaguely, but she looks at you and expands on her words. “There are a few more similar in nature to me. Some fled outside of the school, but the rest remained."

You concentrate on her face as she talks. Though there are obvious small scars and her now extremely pale complexion cold to the touch, she’s smiling and looking so much happier than you’ve ever seen her.

“You’re not a zombie. Don’t say it like that.”

“You know how students are not children but not yet adults either? I’m like that. I’m neither human nor a monster—suspended somewhere in between two worlds of existence.”

“That’s not true at all, Nam-Ra.” You clutch both her hands, freezing in your own warm ones. “It’s okay for you to stay. You belong here, with us.”

Nam-Ra holds on tightly before releasing your hands softly. “We’re friends even if we’re not together, right?” No one confirms, clearly disillusioned by her impending departure, and she tilts her head to the side, somewhat forlorn. “No?”

“Yes,” On-Jo concedes. “You’re right. Wherever we may be, we’re friends all the same.”

“Then, that’s good—good enough for me.” Suddenly, Nam-Ra swivels her head to the side, growing serious. “I need to go.” She turns back to you with tears in her eyes and hugs you tightly, whispering so only you can hear. “Nothing is over. We will be back to see you.”

Your arms drop in confusion as she hesitates to release her arms from around you. “We?”

Nam-Ra beams cryptically prior to leaping off the roof, landing safely back on the ground.

Dashing over to the roof’s end wedged between On-Jo and Su-Hyeok, you observe as Nam-Ra waves goodbye, moving to nudge someone dressed in all black; as black as the night sky, hood lowered and covering the top of their face.

You can hear On-Jo’s sharp intake of air from your left as you both peer down at the mysterious figure.

Regardless of the intentional cover, the moment they sneak a peek over their shoulder, head partially turned, you’d recognize that half-smile anywhere.

What leaves you next on an exhale is barely two syllables.

“Cheong-San...”

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟣𝟦

Ｔａｇｌｉｓｔ

@ameliabs-world @american-sataness @ashrocker123 @baxdra369 @bigtuffswordboy @cosmicwintr @crimson-butterfly16 @darlingimafangirl @dayfyre @dramasmarvel @elicheel @ellesalazar @elysl1an @eternallyvenus @gangsterranger @gardenwn @girlontheblock @heartsforhyeju @huang-the-geek @l-ryuzakitwenty-four @ikissvernon @imonlyhereforfanfic @imvivian @itsmesofia @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @iwachansupremacy @izrosei @jaxavance @jisangtome @kaitsubaki @kayleenjinnie @kierd @laugh-like-the-moon @lexaa01 @lilithdame @lovepoisons @luvelyxp @meliade-ot @missmollya @musicshylover @mythicalamphitrite @nostalgisters @oldiezbutgoodies @onlythebest-106 @rmeddar123 @sageknoxious @sanaenjoyyer @smoooore @snow-strawberry @suminnature @sunaispretty @superbfishhumanoidweasel @supersanelyromantic @teenagefunfury @tenkos4lifer @thege3k @tirramasuu @tita004 @totomoshi @tsukibabyy @underlinedkasis @vesrin @voidcupidz @winchester-petrova @woderfulkawaii @yangsbff @yourwonderbelle @4risu

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐞𝐭𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐱’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

[deepshadows2]

Happy New Years!

I know for the last quarter I was a very absent, due to personal life. Fortunately, for the time being that situation has been handled, and now I can focus on getting back to my writing. It will be slow going, as I haven’t been writing everyday for quite sometime now, but I am working on getting back into the habit of doing so. 

It is my hope to have the new chapter of The Minister’s Bodyguard up by the 22nd of January. 

At this time, Particular is on a hiatus, as it is difficult for me to juggle two massive projects like TMB and the Prisms series at this moment.

Also, I actually posted two stories in December. They were both for gift exchanges, which I had previously committed to, and they were sort of a test into how ready I was to get back into writing regularly.  

For the lovely SeverusSnep I wrote ‘Joy in the Ordinary’, which is a very short, cute domestic fluff piece that includes everyone’s favorite half-kneazle. 

For Fleur/Turpinsimp I wrote ‘Gone in the Morning’ which is my first ever exes to lovers, and technically my first ever ‘there was only one bed’. 

I will be linking them here.

Thank you everyone for the well-wishes, concern and support that I’ve received through this incredibly difficult transition in my life. 

I wish you all a fantastic New Year to come. 

 - <3Tea

Title : Joy in the Ordinary Main Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Hermione Granger Rating: G Complete Y/N: Yes Word Count: 3443 Summary: They were together because they wanted to be, as simple as that. After a life of complication, duplicity, and obligation, he valued the simplicity that was their marriage. ⚠️ Content and Trigger Warnings: None Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43425274 Author's Notes: Part of the H&C Gift Exchange for SeverusSnep

Title : Gone in the Morning Main Pairing(s): Severus Snape/Hermione Granger Rating: M Complete Y/N: Y Word Count: 7735 Summary: Rather than fumble for the lamp, she drew her wand, flicking a quick ‘Lumos’ to see the room. And then she stopped in the entryway, her heart stalling. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Severus questioned from behind her.

“There is only one bed,” she whispered. ⚠️ Content and Trigger Warnings: Smoking, Angst, Mild Smut Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43730517 Author's Notes: Part of the P&P Gift Exchange for the lovely Fleur/TurpinSimp

[moondirti]

cw: dubcon humping. gn reader. he’s just a little pent up guys.

gaz is absolutely the type to squeeze you into a hug that lasts a bit too long.

idk, maybe you’re his best friend or something. someone he instantly clicked with at uni and who’s stuck around despite everyone else in his life falling away like pastry crumbs. devotion that isn’t romantic nor entirely platonic in a sense, but a secret third thing that has you inviting him to stay the night when he returns home and his flat is too far a drive for someone so tired.

you greet him at your door when he arrives. he’s bulkier than when he left for deployment, fills up the arms of his t-shirt and the thighs of his pants. smells like sweat and the faint traces of his cologne (Y by yves saint laurent. you’d gotten it for his birthday.) so sexy you might as well abandon your propriety and slip a hand down the course hairs of his happy trail. but you don’t. instead, you go in for one of your patented this-isn’t-more-than-a-friendship half hugs.

which he does not take. as your one arm hooks around his neck, both of his wrap around your waist and force you to embrace him fully. it’s crushing. so tight you have to lift your head to breathe properly. he lifts you off your feet and sways you back and forth as he whispers little complaints; things about stubborn CO’s or unnecessary bloodshed. you allow it because it sounds like he needs it, this small comfort.

except it verges on longer than a few seconds. longer than proper for a pair of good uni friends. his hand kneads the flesh of your back, and his hips grind against your groin. is he hard, or is that a gun he has yet to unarm? you can’t tell, but it seems to work for him when the hard mass in his jeans catches the canyon of yours. he groans quietly, stuttered, as his thrusts gain pace. as he tightens himself like a cobra around its prey. as he plants his lips onto your neck and starts inhaling the scent of your freshly washed skin.

“…kyle?” you whisper, awkward hands flailing about behind him. your voice comes out in a strained way, vocal chords crushed against his shoulder.

“jus… give- fuck. give me a moment, mate.”

so you do. it doesn’t last much longer after that, anyway. his grinding grows brutal, knocks the little air left out of your lungs. it hurts to a degree. he’s hitting the tendon between your leg and crotch – and you’re sure it’ll be tender in the upcoming days – but you don’t voice your troubles to the man around you, who unravels at such a startling pace you know he’s too far gone to pay proper attention regardless. how else would he be bold enough to grope the plush curve of your ass? two hands latch onto it like dough, anchoring you up so the angle hits just right.

and then he starts to get sloppy. his rhythm loses pace. his stance widens and he fucking whines into your ear as a wet spot spreads across the front of his pants. you’re so dizzy that, when he lets go of you, you have to hold onto his forearm to steady yourself, blinking owlishly at the grin that stretches across his face. as if he didn’t just hump you and cream in his clothes. why are you the one caught off guard?

“thanks for that.” he winks, then pets the flyaways off your temple.

[buttercupshands]

can you even call it a warm up if I'm going to bed without drawing anything big

and a sketch I made while sitting in the park today

[forecast0ctopus]

rip spock mural…me and my friends miss u so bad…..

[tsuchinokoroyale]

The reviews are in!!!

“Hedonistic beefcake. Fattest ass with the most eager tight hole. Will make you cum 10/10” - a white guy

[crustycrackhead]

Gideon always liked the way Kremy looked when he smoked, but like in an ironic way, of course. Noticed how the burning embers perfectly reflecting in his golden eyes, Gideon Nathaniel Coal, was never a man of flowery poetry… but for Kremy, his buddy ol’ pal, he can’t help but think he’s as beautiful as a sunset in autumn.

Kremy and Gideon make me miserable and sad and I cry at nights for them— I don’t need them to have sex, I need them to be like… okay 😭, like damn, bitches can never win, I hate them, I hate them (I love them but they make me suffer)

Also this drawing started because I was inspired by this one author on AO3: Never_Eat_Sour_Wheat, @pedal-mail , I love their writing sm! They inspired me to draw this lil Drabble lol 🚶🚶🚶

[starry-bi-sky]

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

[tending-the-hearth]

annabeth not kissing percy before the last olympian battle not because she was fondly exasperated, but because the last time she kissed him before a battle she thought he died, he was gone from her life, and it was the scariest time she'd experienced, the thought that percy was gone forever. she couldn't give him a kiss before the battle because what if it happened again? what if this time, he didn't come back to her?

[hellsite-hall-of-fame]

thank you so very much, I have missed the boops

[justaz]

thinking about arthur who has crazy quick reflexes and is a relatively light sleeper who woke up to the sound of someone in his room and saw merlin crouched down messing with his keys before softly asking “whatre you doing?…before breakfast?”

[heavens-moonlight]

𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟣𝟥 | ᴇᴘɪʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰! 𝐃𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐚 𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝟐 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐞𝐧𝐝… ♡

Having barely reached the first hill away from school ground, you hear the explosion in the distance before you can see it, an overwhelming blast of sound that knocks the group to the ground from the sheer force of it.

Torrents of fire.

A shower of sparks.

Plumes of smoke.

When the light that consumes your vision fades and your overloaded senses dulled, all that’s left is an eerie hush, a rare moment of silence in the woods that are never still.

In a half crouch, Su-Hyeok completely covers you with his body, arms caging you in protectively. It’s not until he tightens his hold on you however, lowering his head to peer into your bloodshot eyes, that you realize the extent of your trembling. The look of unmistakable utter concern on his face has you dipping your head, avoiding his stare as you try to pull away.

“Come here,” Su-Hyeok whispers, nearly inaudible, torn to see you in such a state.

You bite the inside of your cheek, hoping to suspend teardrops on the rims of your eyes, but they sting from the effort, and your vision gradually hazes. When the first tear falls, the subsequent ones follow, and you’re unable to stop it. Discouraged, you swipe at your eyes with the back of your hands, wanting to hide your tears as you inhale unevenly. “Why?”

Su-Hyeok sighs before he turns you back toward him, cupping your face in his hands to wipe off the tears still lingering in its descent down your cheeks. “Because I don’t want you to be crying into nothing. Cry into me.”

That only serves to make you weep harder, but he lets you relieve your feelings of anguish by drawing you close, rubbing soothing circles into your back. You can hear his hammering heartbeat where your head is pressed against his chest. Su-Hyeok tucks your head underneath his chin and sits quietly, consoling you with his presence alone.

On-Jo’s own sobs in the distance drown out yours as she regards the place where she left both her dad and Cheong-San behind, never to see them again.

Spotting her abruptly rise, you know she’s thinking of going back on a whim, unaccompanied.

Su-Hyeok is on your heels as you make your way toward her.

“On-Jo…” you reach out to place a hesitant hand on her shoulder and she practically jumps, hyper-fixated on the rising embers from her vantage point.

She glances at you, eyes brimming with tears. “I shouldn’t act like this. I’m sorry.”

You squeeze her shoulder. “Why are you apologizing? I understand.”

“Can you…wait a bit?” On-Jo struggles to get out, gazing back and forth at the school and everyone else sitting scattered in the forest. Thinking better of it when she notices Su-Hyeok’s eyebrows scrunched together in worry watching you, she backtracks and shakes her head. “Come to think of it…never mind. You and Su-Hyeok can go ahead with the rest. I’ll catch up, I promise.”

Pivoting on her heels, On-Jo sets a brisk pace toward her destination, sparing no second glimpses back as she cautiously descends the steep slopes, hands in her pockets and head lowered.

Her petite form begins to shrink into obscurity.

“I can’t let her go alone.”

“And I can’t let you go alone, either.”

You’re about to retort when Su-Hyeok’s expression silences you. His eyes alone reveal how extremely worried he still is, brown orbs flitting back and forth between your own.

Nam-Ra walks up beside you then, and voices softly, “I’m going to keep all of you safe. Let’s go.” She regards On-Jo’s retreating back. “The sooner we leave, the sooner we can return.”

“Don’t you know three’s a crowd, Nam-Ra?” Su-Hyeok teases, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

“Exactly, so butt out, Bare-Su.” Nam-Ra links her arm through yours and pulls you along, following in the path On-Jo took mere moments ago. “Two’s company and mine is better,” she mocks, and that makes you smile for the first time in a while.

Su-Hyeok gapes after her remark, too stunned to speak, before Dae-Su draws his attention.

“I’m coming with.”

“No, your leg is badly hurt.” Su-Hyeok points at the gnarly gash in Dae-Su’s leg where blood is seeping through, the red stain more visible against his light-colored pants. “We won’t be long.”

By the time Su-Hyeok meets up with you, On-Jo, and Nam-Ra, the three of you have already made your way up a considerable distance on the now-charred steps and soot-covered remains of the construction zone.

You and Nam-Ra keep your distance as On-Jo ambles to the middle of the foundation, staring off into the distance, looking smaller than ever. Her white jacket now having taken on a beige hue is a stark contrast to the blackened rubble surrounding her.

“Cheong-San!” On-Jo’s screams echo of the barren walls. “Yah! Lee Cheong-San!” Her next words die out at the back of her throat, the inflection all warbled and wavering against a new onslaught of tears. “You promised we’d talk about it tomorrow, yesterday. The sun is up now, so stop playing around and come out here! Let’s talk.” On-Jo cries louder, almost hysterical. “I want to see you…”

Su-Hyeok lingers in the background, staying alert and on guard, afraid the sudden commotion in the desolate area would draw unwanted dangerous attention.

The fresh wound in your heart feels like it’s being torn open again, riding on the wave of strong emotions no less than On-Jo’s. You take tentative steps forward and wrap her shaking form into a hug, tears automatically spilling over once more as she buries her head into your shoulder and sobs.

Nam-Ra comes over soon after and embraces both of you, her arms stretching to encircle around both you and On-Jo. “We should leave. I don’t sense anything and that means no one’s here. Why don’t we say our goodbyes to Cheong-San first?”

Neither you nor On-Jo can force yourself to speak up, the thought of this as the end so tragic and heartbreaking, though you two are fully aware of being one denial away from acceptance.

Eventually, Nam-Ra is able to coax you and On-Jo away. The longer you linger, the harder it is to leave, even though it was the sole thing you had wished for at the start of this dilemma.

How ironic.

You were dying to live.

And now, you’re living as though you’re dying.

Upon regrouping, Dae-Su’s leg is progressively getting worse, Su-Hyeok and Wu-Jin lending him their shoulders for balance as he can only bear weight on the opposite one, their movement and speed marginally slower.

Rotating your head over your shoulder, you assess the injury before digging around for any extra fabric on hand. Taking notice of your predicament, Nam-Ra reaches behind her head and unties the cloth serving as her eye covering. She holds it out in front of you. “Here.”

“What about you, then?”

Nam-Ra supinates your hand gently, placing the fabric into your palm and closing your fingers around it. “Dae-Su needs it more.”

Sensing your indecision, she nods with certainity and pushes you to the back of the group.

The trio of boys look up as you approach, presenting the white strip. “Dae-Su, I’m going to need to tie this around your thigh to stop the bleeding.”

“Go ahead, I trust you.”

Without reluctance, you make to kneel in the dirt, knowing Dae-Su would definitely struggle to sit, but Wu-Jin stops you by grabbing hold of your forearm, making you turn to him. “I don’t want you to have to get on the ground.”

“I don’t mind, and I’m the only one who can. We need to hurry because if I don’t apply this makeshift tourniquet, Dae-Su’s going to lose blood severely; severe enough to be fatal.”

“Then, show me how, and I’ll do it,” Wu-Jin insists.

Dae-Su suddenly contemplates you for a long while.

“Is something wrong?” you question, confused.

He casts a sidelong look over to Wu-Jin, eyes widening slightly before he answers you, countenance quickly returning to normal. “No, it’s nothing,” Dae-Su replies, sounding unsure even to his own ears, but he brushes it off easily. “The only ‘quet’ word I know and prefer is ‘banquet,’ so can we maybe not let me die?”

“Right, sorry!” Wu-Jin hurries and drops to one knee before you can, looking up at you and extending his hand toward the fabric.

Conceding, you reluctantly pass it over, and he withdraws his hand when your fingers brush, moving away and clearing his throat. “So…what do I do?”

“First, you have to locate the site of injury, but since Dae-Su has long pants on, we’re going to need to estimate from the tear instead or—”

“I can take them off,” Dae-Su interjects nonchalantly.

“We don’t need to see all of that,” Joon-Yeong quips from where he’s waiting to the side, now on the receiving end of his friend’s death glare.

“Anyway,” you emphasize, refocusing. “Wrap it mid-thigh starting from the back so that you can tie it to the front, right over the wound.”

“Does this look passable?”

“A little lower,” you direct, guiding his hand down.

“Yah,” Dae-Su chides. “I’m the one losing blood so why are your hands quivering like that?”

“He’s probably queasy,” Su-Hyeok supplies, oblivious.

Without warning, Wu-Jin pulls on both ends so tightly to cross one another, Dae-Su screeches.

“What the fuck is going on over there?” Mi-Jin hollers from the front. “What animal did you slaughter?” She rolls her eyes at the sight, turning back around once more to lead the way.

“Not that tightly!” Wu-Jin immediately relaxes his grip, but the guy is smiling, proud at the reaction he drew out from Dae-Su as payback. “Compress the area tight enough to limit blood flow but don’t entirely cut off his circulation,” you warn.

The second time around, thankfully, Wu-Jin does it properly and without any more problems to Dae-Su’s wellbeing. After you deem it satisfactory, you leave the two to resume their bickering and catch up to walk side by side with Nam-Ra.

Ha-Ri brushes aside wispy broken branches for everyone behind, clearing a path through the overgrown leaves overhead. “Be careful.”

“Damn it,” Mi-Jin curses next to her. “When will we get out of this hellhole? Aish…”

Their conversation dies out in the background as Nam-Ra talks in a low tone to you alone, out of earshot of the others.

“Even though the soldiers saw us alive and well on the rooftop, they left us without help and went so far as to bomb the school.” Nam-Ra stares down at the ground, brittle leaves crunching beneath her dirt-covered shoes. “Maybe they want us dead.”

You continue walking with your eyes forward. “I don’t know if we can put it that way.”

“Why not? I think it’s because of me.”

“Nam-Ra—"

She cuts you off faintly. “They must think we’re neither zombies nor humans, having been trapped with the creatures for so long—that we’re stuck somewhere in the middle. Though not dangerous at the moment, deep down, it’s a ticking time bomb, just as I am.”

You turn your head fully to your left and look her in the eyes. “Don’t say that. Don’t think it either. I can’t allow that.”

In an even quieter voice, Nam-Ra gazes over the group before expressing, “Is it okay for me to stay with you guys?”

You reach out and grasp her hand, squeezing it. “We’re friends, why wouldn’t it be? You know that we couldn’t have made it this far without you, Prez.”

The corners of her mouth curl upwards slightly, but the look in her eyes remain forlorn, guilty. “Am I still those things to you?”

“Of course,” you assure with firmness. “You haven’t turned and you never will.”

She clutches your hand in return. “Let’s all gather again later when we have a chance to.” This time, her smile comes easy. “We’ll be able to do that again, right?”

Your response is cut short when Mi-Jin’s outburst jolts the group from their own respective reveries.”

“What the hell?!”

Alarmed, Hyo-Ryung addresses Mi-Jin. “Unnie…what’s wrong?”

“Shibal. I think we’re lost.” Mi-Jin shifts her body in all directions, looking about.

“There’s no trail?”

“I haven’t seen one for the last mile,” Mi-Jin admits, ashamed. “It feels like we’re going in circles on end.”

“Then why the hell did you come all this way if there was no trail?” Dae-Su grumbles, frustrated. “We might end back up at Hyosan at this rate.”

Right as Mi-Jin opens her mouth to retort, Joon-Yeong interjects, pointing upward. “Guys, look.”

“What is it?” Wu-Jin probes, squinting from the far back, trying to see.

“There’s something tied here.” Ha-Ri raises an arm out to touch the ribbons suspended from a branch.

“Who did us such a nice favor?” Mi-Jin nearly coos. “Maybe a ginseng digger?”

Dae-Su perks up immediately, whipping his head toward her. “Food?!”

Hyo-Ryung clucks her tongue at him, ignoring his gluttony in favor of following behind Ha-Ri.

“I see another one,” Ha-Ri informs, leading the group in pursuit of the trail of evenly scattered ribbons.

By a stroke of luck, the ties do guide you on the right path when a little while later, you all finally reach the outskirts of town.

Dead crows lay in heaps on the ground, a pool of red beneath them.

As the oldest, Ha-Ri and Mi-Jin once again, volunteer to brave it out lead from the front.

“Didn’t Mr. Nam tell us to head to Yangdong?” Dae-Su speaks up from the back and you see On-Jo’s shoulders tense where she’s walking ahead of you.

“What if zombies are there also?” Hyo-Ryung mumbles. “Do you think any are left here still?”

“No way,” Su-Hyeok denies. “They probably already evacuated this city with how close it is to Hyosan.”

“Yah,” Mi-Jin cuts in. “I’m getting a bad feeling about this.”

“Well, it’s a literal ghost town—or zombie town I guess,” Joon-Yeong deadpans.

If looks could kill, the one Mi-Jin throws at Joon-Yeong would’ve ended him. “There’s not a single person within radius.”

Ha-Ri gazes around hurriedly, scoping out the surroundings. “It’s okay here.”

“Why? What’s okay?”

“There are no broken windows, no splattered blood, and no corpses on the streets. It wouldn’t be this clean if the zombies had been rampant.”

“You’re right—" Mi-Jin begins, but trails off when On-Jo whips her head toward Nam-Ra, who’s busy glowering at an open road, unblinking.

“What is it?”

Instead of replying, Nam-Ra shakes her head subtly and swivels around to face the dense fog, inhaling sharply.

“Is there something wrong?” You yank at her sleeve. “Do you sense someone there?”

“Zombies,” is all she squeaks out.

On-Jo focuses her gaze on Nam-Ra. If she’s frightened, she doesn’t show it. “Where?”

Nam-Ra sucks in a breath and shakes her head. “Everywhere…”

“How many nearby? Are there are a lot of them?” Hyo-Ryung’s voice comes out in chopped warbles, in fear.

“One, two, three, four, five…” Nam-Ra counts off easily, and you hope she’d stop there, but when did things ever work in your favor? “Six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven…RUN!” The last double-digit number hardly slips past the tip of her tongue when the warning sends everyone fleeing down the adjacent abandoned road, in no set direction.

The skin around Nam-Ra’s eye never did return to normal, red veins splitting off around the orbital cavity. Before you can say anything, she tugs you forward by the arm even as you turn to look back at Su-Hyeok staggering along with Wu-Jin to keep Dae-Su upright.

Not long after, all three topple to the ground in a pile, the dark shadows of zombies looming in on them from behind the thick screen of fog.

“AISH!” Dae-Su yelps out in pain as he attempts to throw weight on his non-compromised leg, Su-Hyeok and Wu-Jin taking a hard dive on either side of him.

In haste, you and the girls route back, knowing now that running is futile. The creatures were gaining, and they were gaining fast.

“Take Dae-Su and go,” Su-Hyeok directs, but the boy in question instantly springs to his feet, surprisingly adept for the state of his damage.

“Forget it,” Dae-Su counters doggedly, hobbling toward a pail of shovels by the side of the street. “We all live together or we all die together.”

“What are you doing?” Su-Hyeok berates, trying to push Dae-Su aside to no avail. “I’m giving you an escape.”

“And I’m saying we’re already trapped.” Dae-Su slams his shovel head into the rocky ground. “I don’t want to go down without a fight. After everything we did to get to this point.”

Similarly, the group follows in his footsteps, swiftly raiding the uninhibited shop stalls for anything remotely useable as a weapon.

“Fuck,” Mi-Jin cusses, narrowing her hold on her shovel’s handle. “Why does this seem like it's the end?”

“I don’t see it,” Joon-Yeong retorts, and you’d be thankful for the optimism if he wasn’t so literal about what he means. “I really can’t see anything actually. Not without my glasses.”

Mi-Jin scowls at him. “Get your shit together! Squint if you have to!”

“That’s not how that works—"

“Just focus your eyes, goddammit.”

Ignoring them both, Wu-Jin turns to Ha-Ri and stands in front of her protectively. “Noona, stay behind me.”

In the same manner, she draws him back behind her. “You stay behind me.”

The growling and uneven pounding footsteps grow louder as they near, and once the zombies charge, mangled faces clearly visible, it’s every one for themselves.

Su-Hyeok’s only able to hold back a few at the front before the ones by the side spring onto Dae-Su, knocking him back.

With his one poor leg, it throws him off balance, but fortunately by brute strength and great reflexes alone, Dae-Su rotates his shovel sideways, shunting at the zombie’s throat column, effectively hindering it even as it thrashes atop him.

Though her shovel is nearly as big as her, On-Jo manages to swing in time with all her might, smacking a zombie clear across the side of its head away from Wu-Jin.

A little farther off, Ha-Ri and Mi-Jin are aiding Joon-Yeong who has fallen onto his back, trying to fend off any incoming zombies as best he can from the disadvantageous position.

You hear successive sounds of bones snapping as Nam-Ra cracks heads open untiredly, and couldn’t be more relieved to have her superhuman strength on your side.

While trying to hold down your own fort, you observe as On-Jo has a close call out of the corner of your eye. Fortunately, she uses metal barricades in the nick of time to bar one zombie lunging at her, its arms effectively cuffed, stuck between the posts.

You dodge another zombie rushing toward you, and make it over in time to see Dae-Su hurl off the one that was on him all this time. The reprieve is short-lived, however, as another crawls on him. In the next moment, you dash forward and slice its head clear off, swinging your shovel at an angle, unforgivingly.

Blood sprays on Dae-Su’s face, but he thanks you briefly for saving his life. With him visibly wearied and no longer in any condition to fight, you help him to his feet with a last spurt of strength, letting him limp to the inside of an exposed stall, where he surrounds himself with knives.

Looking back outside after guaranteeing that Dae-Su’s in no imminent danger any longer, you catch sight of Su-Hyeok being tackled by a zombie as he keeps it at bay, stabbing and twisting the shovel into its neck. Despite that, the zombie continues to flail, stubborn as ever.

“Here!” Dae-Su hands you a butcher knife the size of your head and you take it without hesitation, setting a course straight toward Su-Hyeok, who now has his teeth clenched, arms shaking from exertion.

The sheer amount of blood that pours out should’ve made you queasy, but you’re not fazed, chopping straight down through the zombie’s skull, severing head from body with the shovel in your other hand. You kick it away, its pate rolling on down the street, streaking it with a trail of blood.

Su-Hyeok grips your hand and hoists himself up, resuming in his help of Dae-Su when he sees more zombies approaching the stands. He casts one last lingering look back at you and you both nod to one another before going in opposite directions.

You and Ha-Ri stand back-to-back as her shovel gets knocked away from her. Now weaponless, you hand over the butcher knife Dae-Su gave you earlier to Ha-Ri and tighten your grip on your trusty shovel.

Preoccupied, neither you nor Ha-Ri notice a zombie surging forward until Wu-Jin’s voice has you both turning your heads in his direction.

“Noona! Y/N!”

Your eyes widen as you spot the zombie behind his back, hands clamping down onto his shoulder, prepared to bite.

“NO!” Ha-Ri shrieks and you shut your eyes, not wanting to witness the scene.

Not feeling Ha-Ri’s presence behind you anymore, you swallow down the rising bile in your throat and force yourself to reopen your eyes.

Ha-Ri is stooped down by Wu-Jin sprawled on the floor, blocking him from view.

The silence stretches on agonizingly until a broken snarl makes you look up from the ground.

Hoisted up in the air is the zombie from earlier; the one who tried to maul Wu-Jin. Nam-Ra has it in a chokehold, dangling it off the ground easily.

All the air rushes out from your lungs at once, knowing with certainty no one else has to make a sacrifice.

“Thank you,” Wu-Jin croaks out, still in shock.

“No need to return the favor,” Nam-Ra moves her gaze from a thankful Wu-Jin to an even more thankful Ha-Ri, easily crushing the zombie’s windpipe and launching it away.

Threat eliminated, the group reconvenes, turning to Nam-Ra for directions. “More are coming.” She glances around, gauging, pointing down the remaining road. “Let’s go that way.”

“Are you sure?” Mi-Jin asks.

Nam-Ra nods. “There aren’t any more zombies there. If we run now, we can all make it with enough time."

Su-Hyeok and Wu-Jin go back to flanking Dae-Su on either side, with On-Jo and Hyo-Ryung in the middle and Ha-Ri, Mi-Jin and Joon-Yeong bringing up the rear.

Nam-Ra lags behind, a little unsteady on her feet. You decide to stay with her, barely keeping pace as she sprints down an alleyway in the reverse course decided upon earlier.

“Nam-Ra…?”

“Go.”

“When have I ever listened to that?” You advance falteringly when she doesn’t refuse, and see her sinking her teeth into the back of her own hand as she beats her head against the bricked wall.

“You should,” Nam-Ra finally gets out, on the verge of crying.

“I’m not parting with you here.” You pull her hand away from her mouth, her pale skin now imprinted with deep teeth marks on its surface.

“Then I will.”

“Nam-Ra!” You yell after her as she turns and dashes away, deeper into the long alleyway. It’s easy to lose sight of her when you don’t know where she’s headed with the lack of heightened senses to match.

Trying your chances, you make a final right turn into a wider opening of what appears to be a neighborhood, and see Nam-Ra feasting from a dead zombie cadaver long since stiff from rigor mortis.

With no second thoughts, you go to her, vaguely aware of Su-Hyeok and On-Jo calling after you.

“Stop,” you beg, wrenching Nam-Ra away. She brushes you aside effortlessly and spits out the chunk of flesh from her mouth into the palm of her hand. “Why are you here just to suffer alone?”

Nam-Ra hangs her head, hair readily blanketing her face. “Please, stay away. For your sake, please listen to me.”

“Come back with us, won’t you?” You inch closer, unafraid.

“Why won’t you stay away?!” Nam-Ra jerks her arm back as she shouts piercingly, flinging you to the ground.

Your back thumps onto the rough, rocky asphalt, and the sting of it hurts like hell.

But, the pain doesn’t compare to Nam-Ra’s reaction.

Nothing could prepare you for what happens next.

Nam-Ra jumps on you, her face bloodstained and wild hair cascading down in your field of vision.

“Nam-Ra…” you gag out, trying to hold her back by the shoulders.

“Nam-Ra! Come back to your senses!” Su-Hyeok leaps forward, wanting to pry her off, though it’s useless.

“It’s me…” you plead, writhing from your back scratching against gravel as you’re pinned down.

“Don’t do this, Nam-Ra…” On-Jo tugs at Nam-Ra’s shoulders, who shoves back her, sending her sprawling.

“Choi Nam-Ra!” Su-Hyeok wields a shovel up high, prepared to swing down from overhead. You look up at him and shake your head, tears streaming down your face.

“I’m immune. You can bite me.” Your eyes flutter shut in weak acceptance even as you hear Su-Hyeok demandingly persuading Nam-Ra otherwise. Nam-Ra is crying, On-Jo is crying, and so are you. “I won’t blame you, Nam-Ra. We’re friends after all.”

With a final scream mixed with a distressing sob, Nam-Ra’s weight is no longer on you and you open your eyes to see her leaving, setting on a clear path zig-zaggedly into the dense fog down the road, form fading away.

The zombies that emerged earlier from its depths seems like a much less worthy exchange for Nam-Ra.

She doesn’t belong with them.

“Nam-Ra!” You’re about to go after her, but Su-Hyeok prevents you.

“I can’t lose you,” he utters as he frames your face in both hands, scared out of his mind.

“But—"

“I think we have to let Nam-Ra go,” On-Jo undertones in sorrow, crying silently. “Just temporarily.”

“Are you okay?” Su-Hyeok brushes his thumbs across your cheeks, and you throw yourself into his arms, burying your tears into his chest.

“No,” you admit. “I don’t know if I ever will be. Not after all of this.”

»»———————————————-————-————-———————-««

Is this survival?

Is this salvation?

Is this a happy ending?

You don’t think it is; not at all.

Not when your first welcome back to a semblance of society in this rescue shelter is anything but free, your every word and move scrutinized, your friends interrogated in succession.

Did you even deserve to be here? Alive and well?

You barely have half a mind to register your leg shaking, feet repeatedly bouncing off the floor until Su-Hyeok rests a hand on your knee. Instantaneously, your leg stops moving and you glance up at him.

Though appearing drained, only warmth and comfort radiates off of him. He nods at you imperceptibly, reaching for your hand in your lap as he goes back to staring through the glass partition in front, listening carefully in on the robotic conversation taking place.

You fixate on the lone female military personnel sitting within a locked room. With her hands clasped together, she leans forward slightly, eyeing Ha-Ri. “Were you familiar with the teacher, Mr. Lee Byeong-Chan?”

Ha-Ri shoves her hands in her varsity jacket and rests against the flimsy chair’s backrest. “No, I can’t say that I was,” she replies formally. “My schedule consisted of strictly morning classes due to archery training. He was never my teacher at any point.”

Not entirely satisfied, Mi-Jin gets beckoned up next. You smile slightly at the odd look the lady throws Mi-Jin for the way she sits, totally out of place and not at all respectful. But what was there to respect from people who willingly deserted survivors? “And what about you? Have you ever once heard, or seen, Mr. Lee act strangely and out of character?”

“Odd or not, that doesn’t concern me.” Mi-Jin pushes her head closer to the panel, the lady withdrawing, wary eyebrows raised. “Are you going to take responsibility for my future? I’m a zombie-infested high school dropout at the moment.”

If the woman was expecting something better from Hyo-Ryung, she most definitely doesn’t receive it, the girl still wholly traumatized and out of it. Neither Joon-Yeong nor Wu-Jin are willing to provide answers either, so she lets them be, aware of the three most tight-lipped.

“Should there be anything you’d like to say, please do so.”

“Lady,” Dae-Su begins, drawing out a sour expression from his interviewer, her lips pursing together. “How many times do I have to tell you? Mr.Lee kidnapped a student from our class named Hyeon-Ju, and the rest…I’d rather not relive.”

Su-Hyeok drops your hand and pats it tenderly once he’s called up.

“It’s in my knowledge that Mr.Lee gave Kim Hyeon-Ju some sort of injection, and you were present in the aftermath of it.”

Instead of answering her, Su-Hyeok fires back a question of his own, stumping her. “I heard you were originally going to rescue us, but changed your mind in the end. Why did you abandon us?” He looks at her resentfully. “You abandoned us and let us down,” he states this time, standing up and going back to his seat before she allows it.

On-Jo looks so lifeless walking up for her turn, your heart breaks for her losses.

“Haksaeng, if you cooperate with us—"

“I decline,” she rejects decisively, deeming the lady undeserving of her eye contact. “We’ve asked you before for reasonable favors—life or death matters—and were turned down heartlessly. I’ll repay it in the same way. So, don’t ask for me to save your loved ones when you couldn’t save ours.” On-Jo turns her down and spurns her all in the span of less than a minute.

Now, that only left you.

You eye the woman through the glass, your cold hands laced together in your lap, feeling every bit like a caged bird.

“Will you also slight us like your friend did?”

You let out a low humorless laugh, bordering on distaste. “I’m very good at refusing what I think is unworthy.”

“A cure is unworthy?”

You falter marginally, sarcastic smile slipping. “What makes you think it’s possible?”

“The answer is antibodies. We’re holding onto the hope of that being the resolution; the end all.”

“And where would you go about procuring antibodies? By artificially creating it?” you mock.

"All of your friends’ lab results came back, including yours, and only one of you has the complete antibodies we’re looking for.” She tilts her head at you, hinting.

You curl your fingers into your palm tightly, angry. “So, you’re going to what?” you spit out. “Use me for your benefit? After all you put us through?”

“Are you sure you won’t regret this opportunity?”

“Give me one good reason as to why I should.”

“For those that are half-turned, or even affected but asymptomatic, there’s the possibility—a slim chance—of revival.”

You suck in a breath through your teeth, heart feeling like it has long since stopped in your chest, voice tapering off. “You’re saying…”

“I’m saying they may revert back to human.”

Swiveling around in your seat, you lock eyes with Su-Hyeok, who makes to spring up out of his chair, but the soldier glaring him down takes one step forward in threat. His eyes waver as he relents, trying to decipher your expression.

Staring a second more, you take a depth breath before turning back around.

“So, what will it be? Do you accept or decline?”

You follow your heart this time, always having been one to follow your brain, and make your decision.

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 𝟣𝟥 | ᴇᴘɪʟᴏɢᴜᴇ

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Ｔａｇｌｉｓｔ

@ameliabs-world @american-sataness @ashrocker123 @baxdra369 @bigtuffswordboy @cosmicwintr @crimson-butterfly16 @darlingimafangirl @dayfyre @dramasmarvel @elicheel @ellesalazar @elysl1an @eternallyvenus @gangsterranger @gardenwn @girlontheblock @heartsforhyeju @huang-the-geek @l-ryuzakitwenty-four @ikissvernon @imonlyhereforfanfic @imvivian @itsmesofia @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @iwachansupremacy @izrosei @jaxavance @jisangtome @kaitsubaki @kayleenjinnie @kierd @laugh-like-the-moon @lexaa01 @lilithdame @lovepoisons @luvelyxp @meliade-ot @missmollya @musicshylover @mythicalamphitrite @nostalgisters @oldiezbutgoodies @onlythebest-106 @rmeddar123 @sageknoxious @sanaenjoyyer @smoooore @snow-strawberry @suminnature @sunaispretty @superbfishhumanoidweasel @supersanelyromantic @teenagefunfury @tenkos4lifer @thege3k @tirramasuu @tita004 @totomoshi @tsukibabyy @underlinedkasis @vesrin @voidcupidz @winchester-petrova @woderfulkawaii @yangsbff @yourwonderbelle @4risu

© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐍𝐞𝐭𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐱’𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬 𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐛𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

[mnemonicmew]

Should’ve read the terms and services

[rileyclaw]

we all fall down

[mostlybirdsandphotos]

a sora!!

my first time seeing one, and it was so casual that everyone who saw it was astonished—for such a notoriously shy bird it spent a lot of time out in the open, even getting so close my camera couldn't focus on it anymore! it was a lifer for quite a few people last morning ( ˙꒳​˙ )

I really enjoyed watching it hop around looking for bugs and flicking its tail, and watching it disappear into the grass only to pop out instantly much further than I would have expected. it's also a lot smaller than I expected, only about the size of the red-winged blackbirds!

[naffeclipse]

naff plz, I'm weak and and I hunger 👀

Turns out I am too. This was supposed to only be 500 words. Now we're here smh

Minnow

Reader x Shark!Eclipse

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

You have a problem on your hands.

Sitting on the edge of a sea-salt slick rock in your dark wetsuit, the ocean breeze sweeping your hair into tangles, you stare. A whale carcass sits heavy and rotting. The edges of the waves roll up on the flat, tan sand of your seaside home and tug at the giant, dead beast, but one fin is only loosened slightly before the water returns without its passenger. The scent of a festering body hangs in the air and coats the back of your throat.

A sharp fin cuts through the wave farther from shore. You glance at it, but whatever fish swims near dives below, out of sight.

You turn back to the very big problem. It will ruin the beach for the tourists. You’re a council member only in name—more of a glorified intern, despite your best efforts to not only fetch coffee. Whenever there’s a job that doesn’t involve sitting inside around a table, away from the heat and humidity of a summery, oceanic day, it’s pushed into your lap to fix.

You have no idea how to remove a 40-ton whale from the sands.

Your right leg slips off of the rock and your foot splashes into the sea. Before you can fix your stance, tug your knees up to balance on the rock while the tide splashes at the base of your little watery perch, a clawed hand seizes your ankle.

A sharp gasp rips from you. Ripped downwards, you brace yourself, screwing your eyes shut as the ocean water rushes up your body, but something plants itself on either side of you. Pinned to the rock, you shiver at the fresh touch of the sea lapping at your ribs. Your feet barely find the purchase of sand. A shadow falls over your eyelids, and a soft hum spins through the breeze.

“Hello,” a voice growls deep, rumbling through the air and brushing against it. “Might I ask why you’re frowning so much?”

You slowly pry open one eye, then the other before your jaw loosens in wonder and fear. 

A creature looms above you. His head is wide and flat, colored a dark gray. Strange cartilaginous fins frame his head in a crown of sharp, red, and black spikes. The moment you gawk, he flashes a dangerous row of curved teeth with serrated edges. The very breath catches in your throat while his arms, sleek and barred with burnt red stripes, hold you against the sleek rock. 

Your eyes fall down his body. His lithe frame melts from a very human torso into the body of a predatory fishtail—a shark. His underside is pale gray while his back is dark, bearing a wicked dorsal fin with the same barred patterns down his sides in burnt red. Just below the surface, you catch a swishing of a caudal fin. Long and pointed, it cuts through the ocean as if it were mere seafoam.

“What—who are you?” you sputter. Your hands hold defensively to your chest while you return to his unearthly but memorizing face. His eyes burn low in a sharp orange light. 

“I am Eclipse.” He lifts one hand from the rock. A dark talon tips his long, thin finger before he hooks your chin, tilting your head up. The sharp edge teases your skin with how easily it can slice you. You swallow apprehension. His eyes fall to your throat, his teeth flashing in the sunlight. “And I asked you a question.”

Your pulse picks up in your ears, beating double time against the tide. What did he ask you? The echo of his words returns. You slowly form an ‘O’ with your lips.

“I’m not, um, frowning?” Certainly not now, if the terror you hide behind says anything. You curl your fingers into tight balls. “Were you watching me?”

The strange man-fish chuckles a low sound—as if you’re very silly. “I was. You’re quite a lovely sight, perched on this rock like a seabird. But you seemed troubled. You still do.”

He slowly forces your head to tilt this way and that, moving you under the sunlight while he examines you with his piercing gaze. You let him, utterly, horribly confused about how this all came to be. Does he intend to devour you like a tiger shark? Or is it a very strange ‘hello’?

A hum of satisfaction arises, but he is no less intrigued by what he’s captured in his hand. You try to turn away but he holds firm and clicks his tongue.

“There is still something vexing you” he concludes, “Tell me, so I might make it right.”

You almost level a look at him, as if the very interesting occurrence of a fish-man grabbing you and pulling you into the water isn’t vexing enough, but mind your manners. His claws press along your mouthbone. Your heart beats heavy in your chest, against the splashing waters, but your eyes flick towards the beach. Eclipse follows your gaze with narrowed eyes.

“Dead whale,” you say, hoping he doesn’t decide to cut your face with his claws, “I need it off the beach, but, um, I’m not sure how to do that.”

“Oh,” he laughs, and you stop to soak in the echo of his shoulder, melodic and growling. “Is that all? A simple solution, minnow, but I do ask for a small token in return for my help.”

You stiffen. A skip in your chest sends a coldness into your legs and fingertips. You look down, staring at the thin corded strength of his chest, the lissom power of his tail, and how easily he could drag you out to sea should you not give an answer he wants to hear.

How could a herculean task be so easy in his eyes? You almost don’t believe him.

“Minnow,” he rumbles softly and forces your head up higher to capture your gaze. You shiver in the brine. “It’s nothing to be afraid of. I will help you, and you will give me what I desire.”

Desire can be very, very dangerous.

“I’m not giving you people’s souls or whatever,” you say firmly, even if your eyes grow wet with terror. 

Eclipse swipes a thumb along your cheek, wetting it with sea salt and foam. His grin stretches wide until you see into his massive jaws.

“What use would I have of souls?” His tongue swipes over his row of serrated teeth. “No, I want something much more tangible.”

He squeezes your mouth softly until your lips are pushed into a pout, and realization jolts straight into your stomach. A dreaded blood rush fills your cheeks. You burn. Eclipse tilts his head, his eyes widening, flashing with the hunger of a shark in the depths.

“What do you want?” you whisper, your eyelids trembling as you nearly squeeze them shut again.

He leans in closer. You smell the sharp tang of iron and salt upon his breath.

“Seven kisses.”

Your eyes fly open, relieved and mortified. Unfurling your fingers, you try to shake your head but your jaw remains caught in the vice of his grips.

“Seven?” You sputter before spewing, “That’s—that’s a lot!”

“It’s a perfectly natural amount for the task I will undertake for you.” He draws the pad of his finger down the line of your jaw. A shiver overtakes your shoulders as you close your eyes for a heartbeat.

“And if I say no?” you ask quietly, watching him in the way you fear a minnow might watch a shark. 

He leans back. The corners of his mouth pull down.

“Then we shall both be disappointed, and I will leave.”

Your mind whirls at the thought—an easy ‘no’, but you don’t know if you trust him. Why would he do such a task? Why kisses of all things? Will he turn you into a fish after the seventh one? Will he devour you when you get too close? 

“How do I know you’re not going to eat me or down me or something?” you ask, pushing past the rattle in your throat.

Eclipse chuckles but there’s much less mirth in the echo, and your gut twists within you.

“If I wanted to take a bite out of you, I would have forgone the introductions.” His smile spreads wide. 

A cold, unflinching intuition within you agrees.

“Got it,” you murmur. “Just, uh, no biting, okay?”

He looms over you. His claws take you by the shoulders and hold you tighter to the rock. Your lungs freeze. Your rapid pulse fills your head in the same way you hear ocean waves when you hold a seashell up to your ear. 

“Minnow, do you accept my price?” Eclipse’s thumbs rub circles into your wetsuit.

He did not agree to your no-biting rule. Still, you swallow roughly and try to find some sensibility in agreeing to give a fish man kisses. The dead whale will be gone if Eclipse is true to his word. And it’s only a kiss—seven of them.

You press your lips together and close your eyes.

“I do,” you say. You open them again. “How do you want to do this? All at once or—”

A sharp flick of a tail pushes Eclipse against you. A bleeding blush takes over your face, pinned between him and the rock as he gathers your face in his hands. He holds your gaze, orange eyes blazing like a sunset. Your chest heaves. Water laps up against you as his pinky finger brushes against your throat. 

“Slowly,” he answers, voice lowering into a husky growl, “One by one.”

Your insides bubble at the sight of his teeth. A tumble of your heart knocks into your ribs. He lowers himself closer until you close your eyes. The ocean tugs at both of you but he keeps you firmly in place. His lips touch yours. A taste of something sharp and brackish spills into your mouth and you make a soft sound in the back of your throat. He purrs. The vibration touches you before he gently pushes and pulls against your lips like the tide. He gives and he takes, swallowing your affection. A hungry touch of his tongue swipes the inside of your mouth. You find your hands falling to his shoulders and holding on as if upon a lifesaver, lost out at sea.

Then he unhooks his jaws and frees you. A taste of sea salt remains on your tongue. You gasp softly, realizing how much fresh air you crave after his kiss. Your head falls back against the rock as your lungs heave. He still holds above you, tall and towering, but content.

Eclipse's eyes are half-lidded, gentle in his gaze as his claw gently brushes your bottom lip. His tongue swipes back over his own teeth as if savoring the taste of your flesh.

“Thank you for the kiss,” he rasps. “The whale carcass will be gone come morning light.”

“Okay,” you give, still lost in the salty haze the impression of his mouth left on you, “What about the other kisses?”

“Soon, minnow,” he gives with a sharp grin. “I will call upon you soon.”

He takes you by the hips. You gasp, your hands flying to his arms as he lifts you effortlessly out of the water and sets you back upon the rock. You sit, dripping in your stupor, eyes wide at how easily his palms fit over your waist. He rests his talons on the slick edge. His orange eyes upturn as he smiles one last time.

“Goodbye,” he growls gently. His teeth flash as he slips down, and you catch the full length of his impressive tail and sharp, pointed fins. A sharp flip of his body turns him in an instant, the water bending to his whim, and he slowly swims. The tip of his dorsal carries over the waves until at last, he disappears into the depth.

And you are left sitting with a pink heat in your face and a ghostly tang behind your teeth. His kiss leaves you spellbound.

You have an entirely new problem on your hands.