#grand thunder bird

[ioniansunsets]

✖ Heartsteel Boys and Their Love ✖

[[I was inspired and then I got too lazy to proofread. I hope this leaves a warm feeling in your chest! I guess these are headcanons?]]

Kayn loves you like a storm. Passionate, explosive, and mad. Emotions high, he is passionate about loving you. Grand gestures and even grander proclamations. His love was names shouted out from rooftops that the two of you aren't allowed to be on. Loud noises of excitement whenever he sees you. The little yelps he makes when you surprise him at concerts. It's the happy shouts as he waves at you from the stage, arm thrown up high before he points right at you. His love is the excited smiles as he runs up to you whenever you meet, full speed, almost a tackle. It is the loud laughter as you watch him do absolutely insane shit. The laughter of someone truly in love as he spends time joking around with you. Kayn loves you like a storm. Loud, fast, exciting. Kayn's love is wild and overwhelming. It is the thunder and lighting, the whirling winds and cold rain. It is the way he'll pick you up at your place and drive you to impromptu dates. Teasing the speed limit while blasting songs out loud while the two of you stick your heads out the window. It’s the way he would fill your room with balloons on your birthday and hand you a knife to pop them all with right after. Or jump you with a present you mentioned wanting just a day before. It’s the way he would drag you to the studio to jam out when you needed a pick me up. It was the way his kisses leave you breathless, and his smile sends electricity down your spine. His love was wild. His love was free. His love was a storm.

Ezreal loves you like it is the first day of spring. Bright, sunny, and undeniably warm but not too hot. His love is in the way he chuckles like a flower blooming for the first time whenever he sees you. His kisses like the first warm breeze of the season, chaste and leaving you wanting more. Ezreal's love is in the way he blinks into your life. Taking cute photos together at a photobooth. It's the way he holds your hand as he runs through the streets. It's the way he would mess your hair up and run away, baiting you into chasing him. It was the way he would sneak you into a school late at night, kissing you under the bleachers like it is your first love. His love was the way he'd pick you up and skateboard down the street, whisking you away to do something fun. His love was the wink he’d throw your way when he spots you in the concert crowd. Ezreal loves you like it is the first day of spring. Sparkling, colorful, new. Ezreal's love is like the way you hear birds coming back from the winter. It is how he would whisper you cringey romance as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. It's how he would blush sometimes when you tell him you love him, somehow still shocked that you haven't gotten bored. It is how he would bring you out shopping, throwing cute clothes and accessories your way because he loves making you feel good about yourself. It was how he would drag you cafe hopping, feeding you a macaron here, a slice of cake there, always new things, always fun and interesting. It was the way he would go to the ends of the earth just to see you smile. Ezreal's love was fresh. His love was heart racing. His love was spring.

Aphelios loves you like a cold night. Safe, nostalgic, calm. Soft hands holding you close. Softer kisses and even softer words that fill you with a love like never before. The gentle love of a light from the full moon shining down, reminding you that there is light in the darkest of nights. Aphelios loves you in the way he makes sure you are always safe and warm. His love is the sneaky kisses in the shadows when no one is watching. It is the way he smiles cheekily after stealing your hoodie, only to see him wear it the next day. It is the way his fingers sneak around your waist, pulling you close to him when it is crowded, making sure you are safe and near. It is the soft raspy laugh when you prank him instead, like old friends meeting again after a long time. It was how you can see his eyes light up when he sees you singing to his songs. Aphelios loves you like a cold night. Mysterious, enchanting, soothing. It is the way he lightly plants kisses on your head, rubbing your back while you cry. It is the way he writes you love songs for his words cannot reach you. It is how he lovingly holds your face while he pulls your hand close to his chest, making sure you can feel his heartbeat for you. It is how he would sneak into your bed at night, finding solace in your warm embrace. It was how he would have quiet talks with you on the balcony, smiling happily as you talk about your day. Aphelios' love was comforting. His love was supportive. His love was the night.

Sett loves you like the middle of summer. Fun, fiery, free. Its a holiday all the time with him. Kind gestures that leave you giggling. His love was the way he'd pick you up in a hug when he sees you after a long time. It was how he would bring you to wild dinners with everyone, making sure you are never alone. His love was like the sound of students free from work. The exciting possibility of anything and everything that summer entails. It was how his laugh was loud and boisterous, leaving you feeling warm inside. His love was how he'd hold your hand in public, not worrying what anyone says because he was The Boss. It is the way his ears always flicked around, trying to hear you, how they twitched excitedly when you talked to him. His love was the little bop he’d do, punching the air to show off when he sees you rapping his lines. Sett loves you like the middle of summer. Lounging, happy, golden. Sett's love was the way his kisses were showy, always passionate, always warm. It was how he would physically pick you up and drive you to a beach when you were stressed, chasing you across the shore, lying in the warm sand as the two of you laugh so hard you cry. It is the way his presence made you feel like you could do anything, because he always had you back. It was how he would blow up your phone talking about his day when he was away, making you feel like he never left. It was how he would fall asleep easiest when you laid on him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as he holds you close to him. Sett's love was alive. His love was young. His love was summer.

K'Sante loves you like a sunny day. Dazzling, upbeat, radiant. Love that reminded you of good weather, of warmth that makes you feel safe. His love makes you feel heard. Makes you feel like things are ok. Makes you feel like even if times are tough, he would be by your side, cheering you up. His love was like the warm sun bearing down on you on a hot day. You can always feel it's warmth heat you up. K'sante's love was how he always had the perfect thing to say, the right advice for any problem, a solution always within reach. It was how he'd bring you on a fancy dinner, dressing you up to the high heavens, making sure you were just as stunning as he was. His love was how he would hold you close, dancing with you in the living room after dinner to a tune no one else could hear. K'Sante loves you like a sunny day. Euphoric, optimistic, joyous. He loves you in the way he holds you close to his chest every time you meet, assurance that his love would never waver. It is in how his kisses were comforting like no other, bending down to stroke your hair as he lovingly presses his lips against yours. It was the way he’d chuckle when you tell him how much you love his singing. It was seen in the way he'd design matching clothes just for the two of you, so you can always feel his love nearby even when he is not there. It is the way he'd drive you to a flower field, throw out a picnic mat and serenade you in a sea of colors. K'Sante's love was hopeful. His love was light. His love was a sunny day.

Yone loves you like the first sign of fall. Cosy, crisp, cold. He loves you in the way that makes you feel like its time to get warm in bed. His love leaves you wondering how such cold can make you feel so warm. How he was so distant yet so near. Yone's love makes you feel like its a good time to snuggle up and read a book in his arms, quiet but present. His love is like the cold wind blowing autumn leaves into the air. Beautifully elegant. Gentle touches like the wind as his fingers ghost over your skin, leaving you shivering in their wake. It was how he would smile and pass you one half of his earpiece, letting you listen to him mix and edit, so you won't feel left out. His love was the way he would rest his back on the wall, pulling you close to lean on him as he calmly kisses your forehead. Yone loves you like the first sign of fall. Surprising, yearning, brisk. Yone's love was the way he would watch sunsets with you while his hand holds your head close to his. It was how you'd see him smile to himself when seeing a photo of you or reading your messages. It was how he would lightly rub his fingers against the back of your hand whenever you held his. It was how he would give you quick kisses whenever he walked past, too fast for anyone to see, but slow enough that his lips linger on yours. Yone's love was ephemeral. His love was mellow. His love was the autumn breeze.

[estcaligo]

Sebek's ears

Sebek x gn!reader, with a bit of angst

"Sebek, put that down!" a worried shout pierced the room. Doctor Zigvolt dashed towards the boy, but it was too late - the child had already nicked his ear. It wasn't a serious injury, thankfully, but blood stained his son's ear, neck, shirt, and his mint hair.

Hearing the commotion, Mrs. Zigvolt hurried into the room. "Darling, what's-...!!!" Her voice caught in her throat, turned into a scream of shock that thundered throughout the household, startling every bird in the vicinity into a flutter of panic, as if sensing an imminent danger. 

But there was no danger. Only blood. And tears. And a kid in front of a mirror with a kitchen knife in his hands.

"Sebek, let me take a look. You might get an infec- " Mr. Zigvolt tried to approach Sebek gently, but the boy pushed him away, sobbing loudly.

"This is your fault! THIS IS YOUR FAULT!! I HATE YOU!!!" Sebek cried out in despair, tears streaming down his sorrowful face as he ran past his parents. Mrs. Zigvolt could easily treat any wounds (it was one of the reasons she had been accepted to work at her husband's clinic despite lacking medical training), but now was not the time - Sebek wouldn't listen. So she just stood beside her spouse, watching their youngest son run away, not daring to break the silence. Words were unnecessary; they both understood. Sebek, despite being only 5, had already expressed a grand displeasure towards his human side. The destructive prejudice he had acquired not without help…

…

"A kitchen knife?... Back in Briar Valley, my grandfather would always look displeased whenever I entered the kitchen. So, I'm entirely unfamiliar with all cooking implements." Sebek said to the ghost chef.

"Oh? Why is that?" the chef asked.

"I have no idea... But he especially kept me away from sharp objects, like knives." he replied, examining the object in his hand.

"Well, mastering this skill is necessary for the course, so do your best!" the chef cheered, floating next to him.

"YES, CHEF!" Sebek boomed, making all the pans and pots shiver, and got back to cooking his dish.

…

It was rigorous but rewarding training, Sebek reflected, slowly washing his hands. Days spent in the kitchen were filled with various instructions and orders from the ghost chefs, requiring quick reactions, but due to their ghostly nature their words often faded, lingering in the air, so a regular human would have trouble hearing them. BUT NOT SEBEK ZIGVOLT. He had perfect hearing, his ears were sharper than...

…Sharper than what?....

He looked into the mirror of the Diasomnia dorm's bathroom, coming to wash away the smell and smudges from the Master Chef course. His face darkened once again as he lingered too long on his right ear. He remembered that day vividly. When he, a young and immature kid, tried to... tried to become a fae? Tired of being bullied by those around him, he believed that if he changed his ears - made them pointy like everyone else's - it would help him fit in. But now he understood how foolish it was.

Yet still. What makes a fae?  A pair of pointy ears? “Not necessarily” is what his mother always used to say Be blessed by night, but don’t forget about the day And remembers, and he knows No need in those Yet still.

A bitter feeling of unfairness washed over him as he was drifting off to sleep.

Why? Of all human qualities, why did he have to have round ears? He had asked himself this question a million times. And it wasn't as if he lacked fae qualities - his hearing surpassed any human's, and he could even hear and understand the fae language, something no human could do due to its nature. He possessed all these abilities, yet they were overshadowed by this small, bitter nuance - his appearance. Genetics had played a cruel joke on him, he thought. Despite his efforts, he will always look like a weak, useless human.

Speaking of weak humans.

You and Sebek had arranged to meet at the gates to head down to Foothill Town today. Rumor had it that the famous bookshop there had new arrivals, and you were eager to take a look. And since Sebek was so knowledgeable about books, you invited him along. Of course, it wasn't like he really wanted to go with you! He had far more important matters to attend to. However, he couldn't risk you selecting subpar books that you might later mention in conversations with Master Malleus - Sebek couldn't let your lack of discernment in literature reflect poorly on the Young Lord!! So, he was coming with you, for that reason alone, nothing more! … The road wasn't long, and once you arrived at the shop, you began browsing the shelves. The selection was vast: novels, scientific works, poems, historical texts, dictionaries, even books in languages you couldn’t understand. Unable to decide, you grabbed a handful of books that caught your attention and retreated to a quiet corner to examine your finds.

“Get on with this human, I don't have all day” he said, standing next to you, arms crossed.

“Ok ok, how about this one?”

"It looks fine. You can keep it, I suppose."

"Great! And this?" you showed Sebek another book, but he frowned slightly.

"It doesn't seem like a decent book to me. Better put it away."

"Why? It's about knights. What exactly do you dislike about it?"

"The cover doesn't look appealing. As if they didn't put much effort into designing it properly!" he declared loudly enough to draw a few judgmental glances from the other customers.

"And that's it?" you blinked at him. "But the plot itself must be good!"

"I've given my opinion, do as you wish, human!" he huffed, turning away.

"...Oh, Sebek. Never judge a book by its cover."

…

In the end, you purchased quite a few books (Crowley had been unusually generous this month, providing you with some extra money), and Sebek helped you carry them back to the Ramshackle. As a thank-you for accompanying you, you offered to share a cup of tea together and he agreed. 

...However, for the two of you, it was never just "having a cup of tea".

As usual, you found yourselves engrossed in intimate conversations, drawn close to each other.

Grim was absent, so it was just you and him on the couch in the spacious Ramshackle hall. Two cups of tea, long forgotten and gone cold, sat on the table.

Sebek rested his head on your lap, as he often did during your moments together, rambling about the books, his duties, or about Malleus, speaking quieter than his usual self. And you just patiently listened, knowing how hard he worked every day and wanting him to have some rest once in a while. The fact that he could relax in your presence made you genuinely happy.

Wrapped in serenity, you gently caressed his mint hair, occasionally running your fingers over his ears. You had grown accustomed to seeing them very clearly, as Sebek wore his hair swept back all the time. But when he was with you he sometimes let his hair loose and his ears became hidden amidst the soft waves of green, looking like two small islands surrounded by endless grassy seas. Or like curious animals peeking from the leaves. It was both adorable and endearing, and you couldn't help but giggle quietly. “Human! Is there a problem with your ears?! I’m talking to you!” Sebek’s loud voice brought you back from your daydreaming.

“Oh, sorry. I was lost in thought for a moment.” 

“Hmph! And what was so captivating that you ignored my question?”

“Oh... er... your ears” you smiled shyly.

“My... what?”

…

“Your beautiful, lovely, adorable ears" you laughed at his reaction, showering him with compliments before placing a kiss on his right ear - the one he had once tried to...

A wave of strange warmth suddenly flushed through his body. Why would you say such things about his terrible flaw?

All his life, people around him in his homeland had diminished him because of his round ears. On Sage’s Island, people just ignored this feature, so he assumed they wouldn’t comment on the obvious. But you? The way you touched them, the way you kissed them - without revulsion, without hesitation, without doubt.

For a moment, he felt something unfamiliar - like nothing else mattered. An unusual feeling, one he only experienced by your side. But he liked it.

Who cared if he didn't have pointy ears? Who cared about others' judgments?

You were right - only fools judge a book by its cover.

“Sebek, do you hear me?” you were the one asking this time.

“Yes. Yes, I can hear you very well, dear human” he said, leaning in for a kiss.

[theodorecanaryhood]

Stages in life

Arkham Knight / Red Hood / Jason Todd x Male reader

Relationships are filled with differences for each people in them, yours and Jason’s was quite different in many ways.

You were Black Bird while Jason was Robin, you were friends and then all of a sudden, he was gone.

Then Arkham Knight came and took you away to teach Bruce a lesson, once you realised Jason was the Arkham Knight. The love you both felt and never admitted came flooding back.

The Arkham Knight had you in his room as you touched his face, Jason looked confused as you lifted the visor up.

‘Jason’ you whispered as you tiptoed and greeted Jason’s lips.

You couldn’t turn your back on Bruce, but you also couldn’t turn your back on Jason. So you decided to step away from both as they figured out what they wanted.

Of course, the grand finale did not go as to plan for either Jason nor Bruce. Jason took his time and realised he wanted to do the right thing for a change.

Jason became Red Hood and was a threat to everyone, he had no problem taking enemies out. Black Mask being no exception of course.

Violent, angry, menacing and dangerous, Red Hood kept the streets safe and was a thunder of force that no one dared to cross.

Only you however, only you had the power to turn Jason into a puppy who was clinging to you all the time.

Jason looked off into the distance as he mentally aimed up the ball with the hole, the golf club swung nicely as the ball flew to the hole in the ground.

You both found this stage particularly interesting as you were both oblivious, Jason stood tall in his white muscle tee.

Two women stood to the side as they took in your form, both debating on which one saw you first and who can shoot their shot. Jason chuckled as he saw this, and you didn’t.

Jason walked over and gave your ass a nice slap, putting arm around you as the two women looked in realisation.

The golf date finished as Jason drove you both home quickly, in order for you both to change into something a little more comfortable.

Jason took you to a romantic dinner, music, wine and a three course meal.

Jason looked so irresistible in his black shirt and trousers, you felt thankful everyday that you woke up next to Jason, a man of this quality.

The two of you held hands over the table as you talked and laughed, the waitress came over with a smile as she looked at you both admiring each other.

This stage was perfect for Jason, he could sit and stare at you all he wanted, watching as your face lit up when you’d speak of things you loved. Jason admired you, loved you.

Jason stood at the bar as he ordered drinks for the two of you, one last drink before you both headed home.

A quick Cosmo before hitting the road as Jason began a conversation with a random bunch of women at the bar. Guess they liked the fact a gay guy was noticing their outfits. You joined for a while before the two of you left.

The next day was filled with relaxing and the two of you enjoying some time together, you both decided the gym was a better addition than staying in all day.

Of course, Jason asked for a different kind of cardio session as he offered to take you to bed and use you. You promised that tonight, but right now wanted a pump session.

Jason isn’t one for showing off, but you love his physique as much as you love him as a person, Jason’s ripped body was on show as he sent you a spicy pic from the other side of the gym.

A nearby woman stared at Jason as he snapped the shot, Jason threw his tank top back on as you appeared.

Jason sat in the bench press as you straddled his lap, assisting him with his lifts. You leant down to give Jason a kiss as he lifted you up.

Jason gave you a piggy back as he did squats with you on his back, your smaller frame helped Jason build some growth to his back and butt as he lifted you each time.

This stage was great for Jason, as he had someone to just simply accompany him. He had his earphones on, as did you, so there wasn’t much of a conversation, but just being in your presence was enough.

Jason had many stages in his life, from Robin to Arkham Knight, to Red Hood. But his favourite stage, was you being his boyfriend. The moments with you were Jason’s favourite.

[keehomania]

teotw (세상의 끝) — jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* 18+

when the world ended, it wasn’t with the thunderous roar of wars or the blinding light of an angry sun; it was with a whisper—a collective sigh of resignation that echoed across the hollowed bones of cities, once vibrant and teeming with life. the sky, once a canvas of blues and radiant golds, faded into an endless stretch of ashen gray, swallowing the horizon in a blanket of melancholy. nature, sensing the final breath of humanity, ceased its symphony. the winds grew still, no longer carrying the songs of birds or the rustle of leaves but instead murmuring secrets of the past, stories of a world that had forgotten how to live.

the oceans, once wild and untamed, receded in quiet mourning, their waves lapping at the shores like a lover’s farewell, leaving behind only the memories of their once-mighty tides. the forests, now shadows of their former selves, stood like silent sentinels, their branches brittle and bare, reaching out as if to grasp the last remnants of a fading existence. the air was thick with the scent of decay, not of flesh, but of dreams, hopes, and the indomitable spirit that once drove humanity forward.

cities, grand monuments to human achievement, crumbled under the weight of their own hubris. skyscrapers, once towering symbols of progress, lay twisted and broken, their glassy facades shattered, reflecting a sky that no longer held any promise. streets, once alive with the pulse of civilization, were now abandoned corridors of desolation, where the ghosts of the past wandered aimlessly, searching for a future that would never come.

and in that silence—that all-encompassing stillness—there was no one left to mourn, no voices to cry out in anguish, no souls to seek redemption. the world had ended not with a bang, but with the quiet acceptance of inevitability, a final chapter in a story that had been written long ago. all that remained was the echo of what once was, a faint, lingering trace of a world that had, for a time, dared to believe in tomorrow.

when the world ended, it wasn’t the end at all, but the beginning of an eternal quiet, where the whispers of a forgotten age danced on the winds of oblivion, carrying with them the tales of a time when the world was full of light, love, and the promise of forever. when the world ended, you didn't even know of it. you didn't know of the wreckage, the losses, the cries of anguish.

when you awoke, it wasn’t to the soft hum of machinery or the gentle murmurs of nurses tending to their patients. it wasn’t to the warmth of sunlight filtering through thin hospital curtains or the comforting sound of your sister’s voice, softly reading you a book you couldn’t remember the title of. no, you awoke to a silence so profound, so unnatural, that it wrapped around you like a suffocating shroud. your eyes fluttered open, heavy with the weight of a month-long sleep, and for a moment, you wondered if you had woken up at all or if this was some dark, twisted dream.

the room around you was eerily still, the once-familiar beep of the heart monitor conspicuously absent. the sterile scent of disinfectant was replaced by an unfamiliar, almost metallic tang that clung to the back of your throat. you blinked, trying to clear the fog from your mind, but the darkness lingered, oppressive and unforgiving. you called out, your voice hoarse and cracked from disuse, a weak “hello?” that barely reached the corners of the room. there was no answer, not from the doctors, not from the nurses, not from anyone. panic fluttered in your chest, but you pushed it down, forcing yourself to sit up, your muscles protesting with a sharp ache that radiated through your entire body.

you moved slowly, every motion a battle against the weakness that threatened to pull you back into unconsciousness. swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you hesitated, the cold tile floor unwelcoming beneath your bare feet. you stood on shaky legs, the room tilting dangerously as you clutched at the bed’s railing for support. you had to find someone—anyone. the halls were your next goal, just outside the room. there, you told yourself, there would be answers.

but the hallway, once loud with activity, was a void of darkness and silence. you reached for the light switch by the door, but nothing happened. your breath quickened as you stepped out into the corridor, your eyes struggling to adjust to the dim light that seemed to seep in from somewhere far, far away. the air was thick, heavy with a sense of abandonment that made your skin crawl. you began to walk, each step echoing off the walls, the sound unnervingly loud in the stillness. you peeked into the rooms as you passed, expecting to find patients sleeping soundly or perhaps a nurse bustling about. but every room was empty, the beds made, equipment untouched, as if everyone had simply vanished.

it was as though time had frozen, leaving you the only soul moving through this ghostly space. the deeper you went into the hospital, the more your unease grew. the halls, once so familiar, now felt like a labyrinth designed to ensnare you in its endless emptiness. and then you saw it.

the exit doors loomed ahead, their glass panes reflecting the faint, gray light from outside. but it wasn’t the light that caught your attention. it was the words scrawled across the doors, crude and unsettling, in a dried crimson that made your stomach turn. “may god help us all,” the letters cried out, jagged and desperate. your hands trembled as you reached out to touch the glass, feeling the dried substance beneath your fingertips. it was real—too real.

with your heart pounding against your ribs, you pushed through the doors, bracing yourself for the world outside. but nothing could have prepared you for what awaited. the street, once teeming with life, was desolate, a graveyard of twisted metal and charred remnants. no cars drove by, no people walked the sidewalks. there was only the ghostly silence of a world long forgotten. ash rained from the sky, mixing with the smoke that billowed from what remained of the trees, their once-green leaves reduced to smoldering embers. buildings, or what was left of them, leaned precariously, their foundations crumbled into dust. the sky, an ominous shade of gray, pressed down on you, darker and more foreboding than you could ever remember.

the realization hit you like a physical blow, stealing the breath from your lungs. you were alone. truly, terrifyingly alone. the world you had known was gone, erased in an instant while you had been locked in the oblivion of your own mind. panic surged, rising like bile in your throat as you stumbled back, desperate to find something—anything—that could explain what had happened. but there was nothing. only the ruins of a world that had ended while you slept.

your legs gave out beneath you, and you crumpled to the ground, your hands clutching at the broken earth as your heart raced uncontrollably. tears blurred your vision as your mind struggled to comprehend the enormity of it all, the finality. what had happened? how could everything just end? the questions spun in your mind, but there were no answers, only the overwhelming silence of a world that no longer cared.

you stood there, your breath coming in ragged gasps as the realization settled in, heavier than the thick air that clung to you. your mind was a tangled mess, struggling to find a thread of logic in the chaos that surrounded you. what had happened? how could everything you knew—everything you loved—disappear so completely? you tried to piece it together, tried to remember anything that might explain the desolation, but your thoughts were sluggish, weighed down by the lingering haze of your coma. the dull throb in your head reminded you of how desperately you could’ve killed for an advil, but there was no time for that. there was nothing, really. all you could do was run.

so you did. your legs, still weak and unsteady, carried you through the streets, though every step felt like a battle. the world was a blur as you sprinted past, your eyes scanning the devastation in a desperate search for something familiar, something that made sense. but the deeper you went, the clearer it became—nothing was the same. there were cars, yes, but they were lifeless, their hoods flattened as if they’d been crushed by some immense force, their windows shattered, spilling glass like jagged tears onto the pavement.

houses that once lined these streets, places you’d walked past a thousand times, were torn apart, reduced to piles of splintered wood and crumbling brick. the trees, the ones that had stood tall and proud, casting shade on your summer walks, were now nothing more than charred skeletons, their blackened branches clawing at the smoke-filled sky. not even the birds could bring themselves to chirp in this wasteland. there was no life, no movement, only the eerie silence that pressed down on you from all sides, suffocating in its finality.

you kept running, your breaths coming out in harsh, uneven bursts as your heart pounded relentlessly in your chest. you needed to find them. you needed to see them—to prove that they were still there, waiting for you. your house wasn’t far, just a few more streets, and then everything would be okay. you clung to that thought as if it were a lifeline, letting it pull you through the thick fog of disbelief that clouded your mind.

but when you reached the spot where your house should’ve been, the breath was stolen from your lungs as if you’d been punched in the gut. you stopped dead in your tracks, your legs suddenly unable to carry you any further. your heart plummeted, your blood running cold as you took in the sight before you. or rather, the lack of sight. there was nothing. no car parked in the driveway where it always was. no familiar structure with its faded paint and crooked shutters that you’d always meant to fix. no house. no home. just an empty space where everything you’d known had once stood. it was as if the ground had opened up and swallowed it whole, leaving behind nothing but emptiness. the earth beneath you was torn and jagged, as if some great force had ripped it apart, and in its place, there was only desolation.

your knees buckled, sending you crashing to the ground. the pain that shot through your legs was distant, a mere echo compared to the agony tearing through your chest. you tried to deny it, tried to force yourself to believe that this was some horrible dream, that you would wake up in your bed, surrounded by the warmth of your family’s love. but the reality was stark and undeniable, pressing down on you like the weight of the sky itself. there was no car. no house. and most terrifyingly—no family.

“mom?” you called out, your voice trembling, barely more than a whisper. Then louder, “dad? hera?”

there was no answer, only the hollow sound of your voice bouncing back at you from the wreckage. you pushed yourself up, staggering towards the spot where the front door should’ve been, where your mother would’ve been waiting to greet you with a smile. but there was nothing. you tore at the dirt with your hands, desperate to find something—anything—that would tell you this wasn’t real. but your fingers found only dirt and ash, the remnants of a world that had been reduced to nothingness.

you screamed then, a broken, guttural sound that ripped from your throat, filling the emptiness around you. it was a scream born of pure despair, of a pain so deep it threatened to consume you whole. but there was no one to hear it, no one to answer your cries. the world had ended, and it had taken everything you loved with it.

you lay there on the cold, unforgiving ground, the weight of your despair threatening to drag you down into an abyss you feared you’d never crawl out of. but something inside you—some deep, primal instinct—refused to let go. you couldn’t stay here, couldn’t let yourself be swallowed by the overwhelming grief and fear that gnawed at your insides. you had to survive.

as you forced yourself to take deep, steadying breaths, the sobs that wracked your body began to subside, leaving behind a hollow ache in your chest. the world had ended, that much was clear. you didn’t know how or why, and you didn’t know who—if anyone—had survived. but the cause no longer mattered. the effect was all that remained, a bleak reality that you had no choice but to face. the end had come, and you were still here, standing in its aftermath.

you wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand, your fingers smearing dirt across your cheeks. there would be time to grieve later—if there was ever going to be a “later.” for now, you had to pull yourself together, had to force your mind to focus on the one thing that mattered: survival. you needed a plan, something to cling to, a small thread of hope that maybe, just maybe, someone else was out there, doing the same. you took one last, lingering look at the remnants of what had once been your home, your sanctuary. the memories that flashed through your mind were almost too painful to bear, but you pushed them down, burying them deep inside. you couldn’t afford to dwell on what was lost. not now.

the sky above was a dull, bleak gray, casting a muted light over the landscape. it was the only source of illumination, and you knew that when night fell, the world would be plunged into total darkness. the streetlights that had once lined your neighborhood were now twisted metal, their bulbs shattered, their posts collapsed. you could only imagine that the power plants had long since run out of fuel, and any solar panels that might have once gathered energy were likely coated in a thick layer of dust and debris. maybe, just maybe, a hydroelectric station somewhere was still running, its turbines spinning in the dark, keeping some small part of the world alive. but you couldn’t count on that. you had to prepare for the worst.

pushing yourself up from the ground, you forced your legs to move, taking one step, and then another. it felt as if every muscle in your body was screaming in protest, but you ignored the pain. you had to keep going. you needed supplies, something to get you through the coming days—weeks?—whatever it would take to survive.

the neighborhood you’d grown up in was unrecognizable. as you walked, your eyes scanned the destruction around you, trying to make sense of it all. houses that had once stood tall and proud were now reduced to piles of rubble, their walls crumbled, their roofs caved in. cars, once symbols of freedom and mobility, were nothing more than dented, broken shells, their windshields smashed, their frames twisted beyond repair. the street poles, once beacons of light and order, had collided with the ground, their remains scattered like fallen giants. and yet, there were no bodies. no signs of life—or death. the absence of people, of any living thing, sent a chill down your spine, making your skin crawl. what could have caused this? where had everyone gone? the questions pounded in your head, but you had no answers. only the silence, thick and oppressive, followed you as you walked.

in the distance, you spotted a store—a small grocery shop you’d frequented countless times with your sister. the sight of it sent a wave of nostalgia crashing over you, memories of those carefree days when the world was whole and you were blissfully ignorant of what was to come. you remembered sneaking in with your sister, buying cigarettes and energy drinks, indulging in everything you weren’t supposed to have. the chime of the bell above the door had always greeted you, a cheerful sound that had made you feel mischievous and alive.

but as you approached the store, you knew there would be no bell this time. the windows were shattered, shards of glass glittering on the pavement, and the door hung on its hinges, barely clinging to the frame. you pushed it open, the movement slow and tentative, half-expecting something—or someone—to jump out at you. but there was nothing. just the echo of your footsteps on the cracked tile floor.

the interior of the store was almost untouched, the shelves still stacked with supplies, just as you remembered them. but the sight didn’t bring you comfort. Instead, it unnerved you. everything was in place, just as it had been before—except for the people. the lack of any sign of life was more terrifying than if you’d found the place ransacked and empty.

you swallowed the lump in your throat and began to gather what you needed. a sturdy bag, first. then a flashlight and batteries—your lifeline when the world plunged into darkness. water, food, anything that would keep you going for the days ahead. your hands moved with a mechanical precision, your mind numb as you tried to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside the fear that threatened to paralyze you.

as you moved through the store, you paid careful attention to the creaky ceiling above, the pitch-black corners where the light didn’t reach. the silence pressed down on you, every small sound amplified in the emptiness. you grabbed a lighter, matches—anything that could start a fire when the nights grew cold. you were preparing for the worst, trying to think ahead, but it was hard to see beyond the next few minutes, let alone days.

you realized you’d need more supplies, especially if you were going to survive for any length of time. a pharmacy would be your next stop. you’d need medicine, bandages, anything that could help in case of injury. but before you left the store, your eyes landed on a familiar sight—cigarettes. they were just sitting there, tucked away on a high shelf, untouched, as if waiting for you.

you reached up and grabbed a pack, turning it over in your hands. the weight of it brought back memories, of sneaking behind the store with your sister, laughing as you shared one, the taste of forbidden freedom on your lips. you hesitated for a moment, the nostalgia flooding you, bringing with it a wave of bittersweet emotion. and then you slipped the pack into your bag, a small piece of the past to hold onto in a world that had left you with nothing.

with the bag slung over your shoulder, you took one last look around the store, the familiar layout now foreign in its stillness. you didn’t know what lay ahead, but you knew you couldn’t stay here. there was no safety in the ruins of the past, no comfort in the empty aisles. you had to keep moving, had to keep surviving. the world had ended, but you were still there, and as long as you had breath in your lungs, you would fight to stay alive.

your breath came out in ragged gasps, each one a struggle against the tightness in your chest as you moved through the desolate streets. the weight of the bag slung over your shoulder was a constant reminder of the grim reality you were now living in. every step you took felt heavy, not just from exhaustion, but from the crushing weight of everything you had lost—or never had the chance to say goodbye to.

as you walked, your hands trembled uncontrollably, not just from the cold or the shock that had settled deep in your bones, but from the overwhelming sense of fear and hopelessness that clung to you like a shroud. you reached into the bag, pulling out the pack of cigarettes you’d taken from the store. your fingers fumbled with the lighter as you brought it to your lips, the flame flickering before catching the tip of the cigarette. the familiar, acrid scent filled the air as you inhaled deeply, the smoke curling into your lungs and spreading a warmth that felt so out of place in this cold, dead world. but that warmth was nothing more than a cruel mockery, a fleeting comfort in the face of an unbearable reality. as you exhaled, the smoke billowed out in front of you, curling into the empty air, dissipating into nothingness—just like everything you had ever known.

and then, it hit you all at once—the full force of your grief. it crashed over you like a tidal wave, pulling you under, threatening to drown you in its depths. your vision blurred, the world around you dissolving into a swirl of tears and smoke. you stumbled, your feet dragging along the cracked pavement, as sobs wracked your body. the cigarette hung limply from your lips as your breath hitched, the tears turning into streaks of sorrow that etched themselves into your skin, each one carrying a piece of the life you had lost.

you didn’t know exactly what you were grieving—was it the life you had before you fell into that coma? or was it the life you had woken up to, a life that had ended before you even had a chance to live it? perhaps it was both. perhaps it was the loss of the world you had known, the world that had crumbled into dust and ashes while you lay in that hospital bed, unaware, untouched by the horrors that had unfolded.

you wished, with every fiber of your being, that the world had ended and taken you with it. it would have been easier that way—easier than facing this bleak, empty existence where the only sounds were the echoes of your own despair. but no matter how much you wished for it, the world had not taken you. it had left you behind, abandoned in the ruins of what once was, forced to navigate the shattered remnants of a life that no longer existed.

the pharmacy loomed in the distance, its windows shattered just like the store you had come from. there was no bell to greet you as you pushed open the door, no sense of nostalgia to soften the blow. the aisles were eerily quiet, the fluorescent lights flickering dimly overhead, casting long, twisted shadows across the floor.

you moved through the pharmacy like a ghost, your hands moving on autopilot as you gathered what you needed—bandages, medicine, rubbing alcohol, gauze. the mundane nature of it all was almost surreal, as if you were simply running errands on an ordinary day. but the weight in your chest reminded you that nothing about this was ordinary. the very fact that you were there, loading up on supplies to survive in a world that had ended, made your chest tighten with a fresh wave of panic.

you didn’t linger in the pharmacy, not when every creak and groan of the building made your skin crawl. the door swung shut behind you as you stepped back into the cold, gray light of the outside world. you took one last drag of the cigarette before stubbing it out on the pavement, watching as the ember died out, leaving nothing but ash and the bitter taste of smoke on your tongue.

but as you walked away from the pharmacy, a new realization dawned on you—a realization that made your blood run cold and your heart beat faster with dread. you had nothing to defend yourself with. not even a kitchen knife. you had been so focused on finding food and medicine that you hadn’t thought about the dangers that might be lurking out there, waiting for you. you didn’t know what exactly you needed to defend yourself against, but your mind conjured up images that made your stomach churn—animals, hungry and rabid, prowling the streets in search of food, their instincts driving them to hunt, just as yours were driving you to survive. and there could be worse things out there—things you couldn’t even begin to imagine.

the thought of facing whatever dangers lay ahead without a weapon sent a fresh wave of fear coursing through you, but you knew you couldn’t afford to let that fear paralyze you. you needed to find something—anything—that could give you a fighting chance. but the problem was, the closest store that sold weapons wasn’t in busan. it was in seoul. you stopped in your tracks, the enormity of what lay ahead of you sinking in. seoul was far—too far. the journey would be long and dangerous, and you had no idea what you would find when you got there. but you had no other choice. if you wanted to survive, you had to go.

the road stretched out before you like a never-ending nightmare, each step a reminder of the bleak reality you were now forced to confront. there were no trains to take, no cars to drive; the underground systems that once thrummed with life had long since flooded, their pumps abandoned and left to the mercy of nature’s relentless tide. walking was your only option, the thought of it a crushing weight on your already heavy heart. you had no idea how long it would take to reach seoul on foot, no concept of the obstacles that lay ahead, but you knew you couldn’t stay in that place—that neighborhood that had become a graveyard of memories and lost hope. so, with nothing more than a deep breath and the resolve to keep moving, you set off, leaving behind the remnants of what you once called home.

the sun hung low in the sky, a weak and pale imitation of its former self, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. the air was thick with dust, every breath a struggle against the dryness that coated your throat and lungs. you reached into your bag, pulling out a bottle of water, the cool liquid easing the burn in your throat as you sipped it slowly. you splashed some onto your face, washing away the sticky, salty residue of your tears, trying to cleanse yourself of the sorrow that clung to you like a second skin. but no amount of it could wash away the weight of what you had seen, what you had lost.

as you continued walking, the landscape began to change. the crumbling buildings gave way to open fields, the asphalt turning to dirt beneath your feet. and then, in the distance, you saw it—a farm, its silhouette etched against the horizon like a beacon of hope. your heart leapt in your chest, the thought that maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance that you wouldn’t have to walk all the way to seoul. if the farm had survived, perhaps there would be something there, something to ease your journey, to make this unbearable task just a little bit easier.

fueled by a sudden surge of hope, you broke into a run, the bottle of water forgotten as you sprinted toward the farm. the sight of it grew clearer with each step—the fields, the pens, the barn standing tall in the distance. but as you drew closer, the hope that had burned so brightly in your chest began to flicker and fade, replaced by a growing sense of dread.

the first thing you saw were the sheep—dozens of them, their bodies lying lifeless in their pen, their wool matted with blood and dirt. flies buzzed around them, the air thick with the stench of decay. your stomach churned, the bile rising in your throat as you forced yourself to look away. but there was no escaping the sight—the pigs, the goats, all of them dead, their bodies twisted in unnatural poses, their eyes staring blankly into the void.

you had to stop, bending over with your hands on your knees as you fought to keep the contents of your stomach where they belonged. the smell was overwhelming, a sickening combination of rotting flesh and the sharp tang of blood. you took deep breaths, forcing the nausea down, forcing yourself to keep moving. you couldn’t afford to stop now—not when you had come so far. and then, just as you were about to give up, you heard it—the sound that made your heart skip a beat, a sound so out of place in this world of death and decay that you almost didn’t believe it. the cows. they were alive, their low, mournful moos carrying across the field, a desperate plea for help that tugged at your heartstrings.

you ran toward the barn, your feet pounding against the dirt as you pushed through the gates, sprinting toward the sound. you didn’t even stop to think, your only focus on getting to them, on finding some sign of life in this dead world. the barn doors creaked as you pushed them open, the hinges groaning under the weight of years of neglect. but the sight that greeted you inside was not one of hope. it was a scene that would be etched into your memory forever, a sight that made your stomach lurch and your heart freeze in your chest.

a man sat in a chair in the middle of the barn, his body slumped forward, his head resting on the head of the little girl in his lap. they were both dead, their eyes closed, their faces peaceful in a way that belied the horror of their final moments. blood had dried on their clothes, the dark stains a vivid contrast against the pale skin of the girl. at the man’s feet lay a shotgun, its barrel still warm from the final act that had ended both of their lives.

you stood frozen, your breath caught in your throat, unable to move, unable to process the scene before you. it was only when the tears began to fall that you realized you were crying, the sobs tearing from your chest in a torrent of grief and guilt. you stumbled forward, collapsing to your knees in front of them, the weight of their deaths pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. you didn’t know the man, you didn’t know his daughter, but that didn’t matter. in that moment, they were all you had—all you had left in this empty, dead world. you reached out, your hand trembling as you brushed a lock of hair from the girl’s face, whispering apologies through your tears. she was so small, so innocent, and she had deserved none of this. neither of them had.

the man had chosen the easy way out, sparing his daughter from the horrors that awaited her in the new world. you could only hope that he had been quick, that he had been merciful, that she had felt no pain. but the sight of them, sitting there in that barn, was a cruel reminder of the reality you were now living in. there was no easy way out for you—not yet, not now. you forced yourself to your feet, the weight of the shotgun in your hands a grim reminder of what you had to do. you couldn’t leave it behind, not when it was the only thing that could keep you safe, the only thing that could give you a fighting chance in this world. but the thought of taking it, of holding the weapon that had ended their lives, made your skin crawl.

with one last, tearful apology, you turned and left the barn, the shotgun clutched tightly in your hands. the air outside was cold, the sky a dull gray, the sun barely a sliver on the horizon. and then, just as you were about to give up hope, you heard it—a sound that made your heart leap in your chest. a neigh, clear and strong, as if calling out to you.

you spun around, your eyes scanning the fields until you saw them—three horses, their bodies thin and frail, their ribs visible beneath their coats. they were desperate, hungry, on the brink of starvation, but they were alive. the sight of them filled you with a renewed sense of hope, a glimmer of something you had thought long lost. without a second thought, you ran to them, grabbing handfuls of hay from the bales stacked against the barn, easing the food to them one by one. their eyes were wide, their movements frantic as they devoured the hay, their hunger evident in every bite. you fed them until the last bit of hay was gone, the sound of their chewing the only thing breaking the silence of the farm.

once they were fed, you approached the largest of the three, your hand trembling as you reached out to stroke its neck.the horse nickered softly, its breath warm against your skin, and you knew in that moment that walking was no longer your only option. you saddled up, the shotgun strapped to your back, knowing that this was your best chance, your only chance, to make it to seoul. with one last look at the farm—the barn, the fields, the lifeless bodies of the animals—you urged the horse forward, its hooves clattering against the dirt as you set off on the long journey ahead.

the journey to seoul was long and grueling, the landscape around you gradually shifting as the hours passed. at first, the road was lined with the remnants of suburbia—houses in various states of disrepair, some still standing, others reduced to rubble. trees, once tall and full of life, now stood as charred skeletons, their branches twisted and broken. cars littered the streets, their windows shattered, hoods crumpled like discarded cans. the silence was deafening, a stark contrast to the once-bustling streets you remembered. there was no sound but the rhythmic clop of the horse's hooves against the pavement, a lonely echo that reverberated through the empty world.

as you rode, the sun began its slow descent, casting long shadows that stretched across the road like grasping fingers. the air grew cooler, the oppressive heat of the day giving way to a chilly breeze that sent shivers down your spine. you pulled your jacket tighter around you, the fabric rough and comforting against your skin, and glanced down at the horse beneath you. its breathing was steady but labored, its pace slowing as exhaustion set in. you felt a pang of guilt as you realized just how long you had been pushing it, driving it forward without pause, without thought. the horse had carried you this far, and it deserved a moment to rest, to drink, to catch its breath. you guided it off the road and into a small clearing, where a stream trickled gently through the grass. dismounting, you led the horse to the water, watching as it dipped its head and drank deeply, its thirst evident in the way it gulped down the cool liquid.

you crouched beside it, cupping your hands to scoop up some water for yourself. the stream was clear and cold, and as you splashed it onto your face, the icy shock helped to clear the fog of fatigue that had settled over you. you drank in silence, the water a welcome relief to your parched throat, before standing and gazing out at the road ahead. seoul was still miles away, the city skyline barely visible on the horizon, a distant mirage of steel and glass. but it was there—your destination, your last hope. the thought of reaching it filled you with a strange mixture of dread and determination. what would you find there? would the city be as lifeless as everything else you had seen, or would there be some sign of life, some remnant of the world you once knew?

the horse finished drinking and nudged you gently with its nose, as if urging you to continue. you patted its neck, offering it a quiet word of thanks before mounting once more. the journey resumed, the road stretching out before you like a ribbon of darkness, winding its way toward the heart of the city. as you rode, the landscape continued to change. the open fields and scattered houses gave way to more densely packed buildings, their windows staring out like hollow eyes. shops, restaurants, and offices lined the streets, their signs faded and their doors broken. some buildings had collapsed entirely, their walls crumbling into piles of rubble that spilled out onto the road. others stood eerily untouched, as if waiting for someone to return, to breathe life back into their empty halls.

you passed by a school, its playground overgrown with weeds, the swings creaking softly in the breeze. a grocery store stood nearby, its windows smashed, the shelves inside picked clean. the sight of it sent a chill down your spine, the realization that you were utterly alone sinking in once more. there were no scavengers, no looters, no signs of struggle—only the quiet, oppressive weight of abandonment. the sun dipped lower in the sky, its light casting the world in hues of orange and gold. the shadows grew longer, stretching across the road like dark tendrils, and you felt a growing sense of urgency. you needed to reach seoul before nightfall, before the darkness swallowed the world whole. with a gentle nudge, you urged the horse to quicken its pace, the city drawing ever closer with each passing moment.

finally, as the last rays of sunlight began to fade, you crested a hill and saw it—seoul. the city spread out before you, vast and sprawling, its towering skyscrapers rising up like sentinels in the twilight. the sight was both awe-inspiring and terrifying, the enormity of the city’s center almost overwhelming in its silence. you slowed the horse to a stop, your breath catching in your throat as you took it all in. the streets below were empty, devoid of the bustling crowds and endless streams of cars that once filled them. buildings that had once housed thousands of people now stood dark and hollow, their windows reflecting the fading light like dull, lifeless eyes. the silence was palpable, a living thing that pressed in around you, filling the empty spaces with its oppressive weight.

as the sun finally dipped below the horizon, the last vestiges of daylight vanished, leaving the city bathed in a deep, inky darkness. the only light came from the few remaining fires that still smoldered in the distance, their orange glow casting eerie shadows that danced along the edges of the buildings. the temperature dropped, the chill of night seeping into your bones as you sat there, staring out at the city that had once been the heart of the nation. you should have felt something—relief, maybe, or even hope. but all you felt was a hollow emptiness, a gnawing ache that settled deep in your chest. you had made it, but the city offered no comfort, no answers. it was as lifeless as the rest of the world.

you dismounted the horse, your legs trembling with exhaustion, and led it to a nearby alley where you could find some semblance of shelter. the walls rose up around you, the darkness closing in, and you pulled your jacket tighter, trying to ward off the cold. the horse nickered softly, its warm breath a small comfort in the chill night air. you found a spot where the alley narrowed, the walls on either side providing some protection from the wind, and sat down, your back against the rough brick. the horse stood nearby, its eyes half-closed, its head drooping with fatigue. you reached out and stroked its mane, whispering soothing words, though you weren’t sure who you were trying to comfort—yourself or the horse.

the city was quiet, the silence alive with the absence of sound. there were no voices, no footsteps, no hum of electricity or rush of cars. the world had ended, and all that remained was this—an empty city, a lone survivor, and the faint hope that somewhere, somehow, someone else had made it through the darkness. as the last of the light faded and the world was plunged into darkness, you closed your eyes and tried to sleep. but the silence was too loud, the emptiness too vast, and all you could do was sit there, staring into the void, waiting for a dawn that might never come.

the moon hung high in the sky, a sliver of pale light casting long shadows across the deserted streets of seoul as you made your way to the weapon shop. the air was cold, biting at your exposed skin as you trudged forward, your mind a fog of exhaustion and fear. the city was eerily quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional rustle of leaves or the distant creak of a sign swaying in the wind. but it was when you heard the first howl that your blood ran cold, freezing you in place.

the sound echoed through the empty streets, low and guttural, a primal call that sent a shiver down your spine. you didn’t know what it was, but you knew it wasn’t anything good. the howling grew louder, more frequent, and you forced your feet to move, your heart pounding in your chest as you quickened your pace. the weapon shop was close—just a few more blocks, and you would be safe. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

when you finally reached the shop, you didn’t hesitate. the building loomed large before you, three stories tall with a garage to the side, its dark facade blending into the shadows of the night. you darted across the street and threw open the door, slipping inside and quickly closing it behind you. the air inside was musty, filled with the scent of gun oil and old wood, a stark contrast to the crisp night air outside.

your eyes adjusted to the dim light, and you took in your surroundings. the shop was enormous, shelves upon shelves lined with every kind of weapon imaginable. guns, knives, bows and arrows, boxes of ammunition—everything you needed to survive was right here. you wasted no time, grabbing a large duffel bag from a nearby counter and filling it with supplies. a handgun with a box of bullets, a set of throwing knives, a bow with a quiver of arrows—each item you picked up felt like a small piece of security, a shield against the unknown dangers lurking outside.

as you moved through the shop, your eyes fell on the garage door, and you froze. there, written in big, crimson letters, were the same words you had seen before, “may god help us all.” the blood was still wet, glistening under the faint light filtering in through the broken windows. your heart skipped a beat, and a cold wave of fear washed over you. the message was ominous, a reminder that whatever had happened was far from over.

you were still staring at the words when the sound of glass shattering snapped you back to reality. you whipped around, the shotgun already in your hands, your finger on the trigger. the noise had come from the front of the shop, where a window had just been broken. panic seized you as you realized you weren’t alone. you spun around, eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of movement, the shotgun trembling in your grip.

but before you could react, something heavy and solid collided with your hand, sending the shotgun flying across the room. a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against a solid chest, while another hand clamped down on your wrists, pinning them to the wall. you struggled, kicking out, but the grip was too strong, the man behind you unyielding. “who are you?” his voice was low, rough, filled with suspicion. “what are you doing here?”

you were too shocked to respond at first, your mind reeling. relief flooded through you at the realization that you weren’t alone, that there was another human being here. but that relief was short-lived, replaced by a surge of panic as you registered the man’s hostility. “my name is (y/n) (l/n),” you replied, your voice trembling. “i came from busan. the closest weapon store was in seoul, so i—”

“do you really think i’m gonna fall for that?” the man scoffed, his grip tightening around your wrists. you winced at the pain, shaking your head in confusion. “i don’t—what are you talking about?” you asked, your voice growing weaker as fear took hold. you could feel the man’s breath against your neck, hot and unsteady, as he spun you around to face him. your back hit the wall, and you looked up to meet his eyes—dark, piercing, and filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

he studied your face intently, his eyes narrowing as he reached out and touched your skin, probing at your cheeks and jawline as if searching for something hidden beneath the surface. you recoiled at the contact, trying to pull away, but he held you firmly in place. “what the hell is wrong with you?” you snapped, your voice rising in frustration and fear. the man ignored your question, his brow furrowing as he continued his inspection.

“are you really human?” he muttered, almost to himself, his eyes narrowing further. “when did the last war end?”

the question caught you off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless. “the korean war? it ended in 1953,” you stammered, utterly confused. his grip loosened slightly, and you seized the opportunity to ask, “why wouldn’t i be human?”

he let out a short, humorless laugh, shaking his head. “you really don’t know, do you? have you been living under a rock this whole time?” there was a note of incredulity in his voice, as if the very idea was impossible. you had no idea how to respond. you wanted to ask what he meant, to demand answers, but the words caught in your throat. all you could do was stand there, staring up at him with wide, bewildered eyes.

“i just wanna find my sister,” you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. something in his gaze shifted at your words, the hard lines of his expression softening slightly. but before he could say anything, the howling started again, closer this time, the sound tearing through the silence of the night like a blade. the man’s eyes widened, panic flashing across his face as he released your wrists and grabbed your hand instead.

“they’re near,” he said urgently, pulling you away from the wall. “we need to go. now.”

“who’s near? what’s out there?” you asked, your voice rising with fear. but he didn’t answer, his grip on your hand tightening as he dragged you toward the door. the howling grew louder, more desperate, and your heart pounded in your chest as you followed him outside. he led you to a horse tied up at the side of the shop, its eyes wide with fear, nostrils flaring as it sensed the danger approaching.

“get on,” he commanded, practically lifting you onto the horse’s back. you hesitated for a moment, your mind racing with questions, but another howl—closer, more menacing—sent a jolt of fear through you, and you didn’t argue. the man mounted the horse behind you, his arms wrapping around you to take hold of the reins. without another word, he spurred the horse into a gallop, the two of you racing away from the shop and the howls that pursued you through the darkness. the wind whipped at your face, and the city blurred around you as the horse sped through the empty streets, the pounding of its hooves matching the frantic rhythm of your heart.

the wind whipped against your face as the horse bolted down the deserted streets, the rhythmic pounding of hooves resonating through the silence of the city. you tightened your grip around the man's waist, your fingers digging into the fabric of his coat as you clung to him, your heart hammering in your chest. the world blurred around you, a dizzying mix of shadows and moonlight, but you forced yourself to look back, to see what was chasing you.

at first, you thought you were seeing things—figures, indistinct in the darkness, running after you. people. it didn’t make sense, but there they were, sprinting through the streets with an almost unnatural speed. relief fluttered in your chest, a momentary flicker of hope that you weren’t as alone as you thought, that maybe, just maybe, there were still survivors. but that hope died a quick death as you watched in horror.

the figures—those people—began to change. as they ran, their bodies convulsed, bones snapping and reforming in grotesque ways, their limbs elongating and bending at unnatural angles. fur sprouted across their skin, thick and matted, as their faces elongated into sharp muzzles, fangs flashing under the moonlight. the air filled with the sickening sound of their transformation, a blend of animalistic growls and the grotesque snapping of bones. in mere seconds, what had been human was now a pack of wolves, their eyes glowing with a terrifying hunger as they closed the distance between you.

you were paralyzed with shock, your mind struggling to process what you were seeing, a cold wave of terror crashing over you as the realization settled in. the man in front of you glanced over his shoulder, his gaze hard as he took in the sight of the wolves. “do you get it now?” he asked, his voice grim, almost resigned. you shook your head, your voice trembling as you replied, “i was in a coma, for a month. i woke up to nothing.”

he didn’t respond immediately, his focus shifting back to the path ahead as the horse galloped faster, the cityscape flying by in a blur. when he finally spoke, his voice was low, laced with a bitter edge. “you missed the end of the world. lucky you.”

his words hit you like a punch to the gut, the weight of them settling heavily in your chest. the end of the world. you wanted to ask him what had happened, to demand answers, but the words stuck in your throat, strangled by the fear clawing at your insides. instead, you forced yourself to ask the one question that burned in your mind.

“what are those things?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the wind and the relentless pounding of hooves. he shrugged, a sharp, humorless laugh escaping him. “people call them skinwalkers.” he paused, his gaze hardening as he looked back at the wolves chasing you. “we just call them predators. they don’t deserve to be named—just killed.”

his words sent a chill down your spine, the cold, detached tone in which he spoke of them making your stomach turn. you wanted to argue, to protest, but you knew it would be futile. the creatures—those skinwalkers—were far from human now, twisted by whatever horrors had unfolded during your month of oblivion. you swallowed hard, fighting back the nausea that threatened to rise as you clung tighter to the man, your mind spinning with a thousand questions that had no answers.

the horse veered sharply to the right, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts as the man guided it down a narrow alley, the buildings towering above you on either side. the howls of the wolves echoed through the city, growing louder, more frantic, as they pursued you with relentless determination. but the man didn’t falter, his grip on the reins steady, his focus unwavering as he pushed the horse to its limits. you didn’t dare look back again. Instead, you buried your face in the man’s shoulder, squeezing your eyes shut as you tried to block out the terror that threatened to consume you. your mind raced with thoughts of your sister, of the world that had crumbled while you lay unconscious, and of the unknown dangers that lurked in the shadows of the new, terrifying reality.

for what felt like an eternity, you rode through the labyrinth of seoul’s streets, the city a dark and twisted maze that offered no comfort, no refuge. every shadow seemed to move, every sound echoed with the threat of something worse, and the howls of the skinwalkers followed you like a sinister promise of what awaited if you faltered. at last, the secluded campsite came into view, a sprawling expanse surrounded by tall, imposing fences. the heavy gates were reinforced with barbed wire, a stark reminder of the dangers lurking beyond. the man guided the horse towards the entrance, his movements careful, methodical. he had been quiet for most of the ride, his focus solely on getting you both to safety, but now that you were here, you could sense a shift in his demeanor. a tension that had been absent before.

when the horse came to a stop just outside the gates, he dismounted first, his boots hitting the ground with a soft thud. he reached up to help you down, his hands firm as he guided you to solid ground. you felt the exhaustion settle into your bones as soon as your feet touched the earth, your legs trembling with the effort of standing after such a long and harrowing ride. you managed a weak smile, despite everything, and offered a quiet, “thank you.”

he scoffed, his expression a mix of weariness and amusement. “don’t thank me,” he muttered, his tone almost dismissive. he paused, glancing down at the bags you clutched tightly to your chest. “you’re the one with the weapons.” his words made you scowl, the idea of sharing the supplies you had risked so much to gather sending a surge of irritation through you. you clutched the bags tighter, your knuckles whitening as you grimaced at the thought. it was your first real instinct of self-preservation since you had woken up, a primal urge to protect what little you had left.

he noticed, and a soft chuckle escaped him. “relax,” he said, his tone lighter now, almost teasing. “i’m not here to take anything from you. just making sure we both survive the night.”

his words did little to ease your discomfort, but you forced yourself to loosen your grip on the bags, nodding reluctantly. there was a long pause, the silence stretching between you as you stood there in the shadow of the towering fence, the distant crackle of a fire reaching your ears. it was the first sign of life you had encountered since the end of the world as you knew it, and it stirred something deep within you—hope, maybe, or the fear of finding out just how few had survived.

you swallowed hard, pushing past the knot of anxiety that had lodged itself in your throat. “I never got your name,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended, barely louder than the rustling of leaves in the wind. he looked at you then, really looked at you, his dark eyes reflecting the dim light of the distant fire. there was something guarded in his expression, a hesitation that you couldn’t quite place, but after a moment, he nodded, his lips curving into a faint, almost reluctant smile.

“jungkook,” he replied, his voice steady. then, after a beat, he added, “jeon jungkook.”

you nodded, the name settling into your mind as you repeated it silently to yourself. there was something reassuring about knowing his name, something that made the situation feel a little less surreal, a little more grounded in reality. you didn’t know why, but it gave you a small measure of comfort, as if knowing this one thing could somehow anchor you in a world that had become so utterly unrecognizable.

with a quiet sigh, you followed him towards the entrance of the campsite, the soft glow of the fire growing brighter as you drew closer. the night was still, the silence broken only by the sound of your footsteps crunching against the gravel. the tall fences loomed above you, their presence both intimidating and reassuring, a reminder that, for now at least, you were safe.

as you approached the camp, you caught sight of the fire—a small, controlled flame flickering in the center of the site, surrounded by a few scattered tents and makeshift shelters. shadows moved around it, figures huddled close to the warmth, their faces obscured by the dim light. you couldn’t tell how many people were there, but the sight of them filled you with a mixture of anticipation and unease. you had wondered for so long if you were alone in this new world, and now that you knew you weren’t, you weren’t sure what to expect.

as you neared the campsite, the first thing that struck you was the subdued glow of the fire, its warmth a definite contrast to the cold, oppressive darkness surrounding you. the silhouettes of the people grew clearer with each step, their movements casting shifting shadows on the ground. a man sat by the fire, meticulously cleaning his pistol with practiced precision. the soft clinking of metal against metal was a steady, rhythmic sound, providing a strange comfort in the otherwise silent night. nearby, a woman was hanging clothes to dry on a makeshift line, her actions slow and deliberate. the sight of her, busy with mundane tasks, was oddly reassuring.

another man, his face illuminated by the firelight, was roasting what appeared to be an animal. the smell of cooking meat filled the air, mingling with the scent of smoke. It was a reminder of the normalcy that once was, a slice of life that had persisted even in the wake of disaster. beside the fire, another figure lay on the ground, his form barely discernible, while a young girl—barely older than a teenager—stood with her back to you. as you and jungkook approached, the girl turned slowly, the sound of your footsteps catching her attention. when she saw you, your heart skipped a beat, and the weight of the world seemed to lift momentarily. your bags slipped from your grip, hitting the ground with a muted thud.

“hera?” you breathed, the name escaping your lips in a whisper.

the recognition was mutual. hera’s eyes widened, her hand flying to her mouth as tears welled up and spilled over. her face contorted with shock and disbelief, and she ran towards you. in an instant, she was in your arms, her embrace fierce and desperate. you sobbed into her shoulder, the relief of finding her overwhelming. the group watched in stunned silence as you and her clung to each other, your sobs mingling with hers in a raw display of emotion. hera’s voice was muffled as she asked, “what are you doing here?”

you could barely manage to articulate through your tears. “i was looking for you,” you managed to choke out. “i was looking for you, and i found you.” you brushed her hair away from her tear-streaked face, trying to steady yourself. the warmth of her presence was a balm to your fractured spirit. jungkook, standing just outside the circle of light, took in the scene with a softened gaze.

“you should’ve just said hera was your sister,” he said, his voice low and contemplative. the woman hanging clothes wiped at her eyes, her expression one of awe and empathy. “not every day you get a sight like this in such a place,” she said softly.

the man who had been cleaning his gun straightened, curiosity etched on his face. “jungkook, who is she?” he asked. jungkook turned to the group, gesturing towards you. “(y/n) (l/n),” he said. “found her at the weapon shop.”

you lifted the two bags that had fallen to the ground, holding them up for the group to see. one was filled with weapons, the other with supplies. as their faces lit up with a mix of relief and gratitude, the gravity of the situation seemed to shift. the realization that you had come prepared, that you had braved the perils to bring something valuable to their camp, seemed to lift the somber mood. with hera still holding onto you, you felt the weight of the journey finally lift from your shoulders. the camp, once a distant beacon of hope, now felt like a place of refuge, a haven where, against all odds, you had found something precious amidst the ruins.

as the night deepened, you settled near the fire, the warmth seeping through your clothes and offering a much-needed reprieve from the cold. the crackle of the flames was soothing, a rhythmic backdrop to the quiet conversations that wove through the camp. hera had fallen asleep on your lap, her breathing steady and calm after the emotions of the day. you carefully shifted, trying not to disturb her as you reached for the bags you had brought with you. the group watched with a mix of curiosity and gratitude as you opened the bags, revealing the canned goods and supplies you had scavenged.

“oh hani, min yoongi, kim taehyung, jung hoseok,” jungkook introduced the members of the group with a casual wave, nodding to each as he spoke. each name felt like a small anchor in the sea of confusion, a thread connecting you to the new world you were navigating.

you set about distributing the canned goods, the clink of metal against metal a comforting sound in the quiet of the night. hani, who had been hanging clothes earlier, now busied herself arranging the cans, her movements efficient and practiced. yoongi, who had been resting on the ground, joined the effort with a weary but grateful nod. taehyung, who had been cleaning his pistol, put his weapon aside to help. hoseok, having finished roasting the squirrel, offered a satisfied smile as he took a can. as you worked, the group explained more about their situation. they shared that hera had been desperately searching for you, her presence a beacon of hope in their small enclave. they had taken her in, treating her like their own, and she had become a beloved part of their makeshift family.

the conversation eventually turned to you and your ordeal. hani, while opening a can of beans, gently asked about your coma and how you had survived. you shook your head, struggling to recall the details. “i don’t remember much,” you admitted softly. “i was in a coma. i woke up after a month, and everything was different.”

they listened attentively as jungkook took over, explaining that the world had ended with a nuclear attack, a catastrophic event that had turned many into twisted, hungry creatures. “those who were exposed either died or became skinwalkers,” he said, his voice somber. “skinwalkers, they were once people. now, they’re predators, hiding among the living. it’s not always obvious who’s been turned until they’re hungry, and by then, it’s too late.”

the weight of his words sank heavily in your stomach. the thought that anyone, even those you trusted, could become something monstrous was terrifying. the image of those skinwalkers, people who had lost their humanity, lingered in your mind, twisting into dark, anxious thoughts. taehyung’s voice broke through your reverie. “are you planning to join us?” he asked, his eyes steady as he looked at you.

you hesitated, the decision weighing heavily on you. the idea of leaving hera behind was unthinkable, but you also knew you had to make a choice for your own survival. after a moment of silent contemplation, you met jungkook’s gaze. his expression was open, his eyes warm and reassuring. “i’ll stay,” you said finally, your voice firm despite the turmoil inside you. “i can’t leave hera. i need to be here for her.” jungkook’s smile softened, a flicker of relief in his eyes. “good,” he said quietly. “we could use another pair of hands.”

as the night deepened, the flickering firelight gradually began to dim, its warm glow surrendering to the cool darkness of the surrounding forest. the sounds of the camp quieted, conversations trailing off as exhaustion began to overtake the small group. one by one, they each found their way to their makeshift beds, the day's events weighing heavily on their minds. jungkook, still sitting by the fire, looked around the group. “who’s going to keep watch tonight?” he asked, his voice soft but steady, cutting through the peaceful silence.

you immediately volunteered, the words slipping out before you could even think about them. “i’ll do it,” you said, determination lacing your voice. you didn’t want to sleep, not yet. your thoughts were too restless, too clouded by everything that had happened. you began to gently lift hera, her small body feeling heavier in your arms as the day’s exhaustion settled in. she stirred slightly but didn’t wake, her face calm and peaceful, a contrast to the chaos that surrounded you. you tried to carry her into her tent, but your muscles screamed in protest, the weight too much after the day you’d had. your arms shook, and you felt yourself faltering.

jungkook noticed your struggle, his dark eyes softening as he quietly stood and walked over to you. without a word, he reached out and took hera from your arms, his movements careful and deliberate as he cradled her against his chest. relief washed over you, and you couldn’t help but give him a grateful smile. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet night. he just nodded, his expression unreadable as he turned and carried her toward the tent. you followed close behind, your footsteps soft against the earth. the tent flap rustled as he pushed it aside and stepped inside, his movements slow and gentle as he laid hera down on the makeshift bed. he adjusted the blanket around her small frame, making sure she was warm and comfortable.

you knelt beside her, your heart swelling with a mix of love and sorrow as you watched her sleep. her face, so serene, was a reminder of everything you were fighting for. you reached out and gently brushed a few strands of hair away from her forehead, your fingers lingering as you marveled at how peaceful she looked, even in this broken world. “she’s like a daughter to us,” jungkook said quietly, his voice carrying a deep sense of affection. he sat back on his heels, watching her with a soft expression that you hadn’t seen before.

you turned to look at him, your heart aching with gratitude. “thank you for watching over her, for keeping her safe. i don’t know what i would’ve done if something had happened to her.” jungkook met your gaze, his eyes dark and sincere. “you don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his voice low and steady. “she’s a good kid. we all care about her.”

silence fell between you, the weight of everything unspoken hanging in the air. there was a shared understanding in that quiet, an acknowledgment of the burdens each of you carried. in that moment, you felt a connection with him, something deeper than the circumstances that had brought you together. you broke the silence first, your voice soft but firm. “you should get some sleep. i’ll keep watch.”

he shook his head, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “i’ll keep you company,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. you opened your mouth to protest but stopped yourself. there was something comforting in the idea of not being alone, of having someone beside you as the night wore on. you nodded, a quiet acceptance, and he settled down beside you. together, you both sat in the tent, the stillness of the night wrapping around you like a blanket.

outside, the wind rustled through the trees, a soft whisper that mingled with the quiet breaths of the sleeping camp. jungkook stayed close, his presence a steady anchor in the uncertainty of the night.

every so often, you’d glance at hera, her tiny chest rising and falling with each peaceful breath, and your heart would swell with a fierce protectiveness. you were grateful to jungkook and the others for keeping her safe when you couldn’t, and for giving her a sense of normalcy in a world that had lost all sense of it. he leaned back slightly, his shoulders relaxed as he kept a watchful eye on the tent’s entrance. the firelight from outside cast long shadows, painting his features in a mixture of light and dark. you studied him in the dim light, wondering about the man who had so easily taken on the role of protector, not just for hera, but for all of them.

time passed slowly, the night inching forward as the two of you remained vigilant. every creak of a tree or rustle in the underbrush set your nerves on edge, but jungkook’s calm presence helped keep your fears at bay. the silence was no longer uncomfortable; it was a shared experience, a mutual understanding that you were both in this together. you found yourself growing more and more weary, the events of the day catching up to you. but every time your eyes began to droop, you’d shake yourself awake, determined to stay alert. jungkook noticed, his sharp gaze catching every small movement. “you’re exhausted,” he observed quietly, his voice gentle but firm. “you should rest.”

you shook your head, refusing to give in. “i’ll be fine,” you insisted, even though your body was screaming for sleep. “i can’t, can’t let my guard down.” jungkook’s expression softened, and he leaned a little closer. “you’re not alone anymore,” he reminded you. “we’ll take turns. i’ll keep watch for now. you can rest.”

the warmth in his voice, the genuine concern, made something inside you finally give way. you hadn’t realized just how desperately you needed that reassurance, that reminder that you didn’t have to do this all on your own. with a reluctant nod, you finally allowed yourself to lie down beside hera, pulling the blanket up to your chin. jungkook stayed close, his presence a silent promise that he’d keep you both safe.

as your eyes began to close, you felt a hand gently brush your arm. “you did good today,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “get some rest. i’ve got you.” those were the last words you heard before you allowed the world to go black once more. once again, everything was silent. only this time, you allowed it. you allowed it as you relished in the fact that, for once, you weren't alone.

you awoke to the smell of something cooking, the savory aroma of meat roasting over a fire drawing you from the depths of sleep. the tent was still, hera’s small form curled up beside you, her breathing soft and even. you took a moment to watch her, the way her face relaxed in slumber, so different from the tense expression she often wore when awake. it was a reminder of how much she had been through, how much she still needed you.

carefully, you slipped out of the tent, making sure not to wake her. the morning air was cool and crisp, the sky a pale blue streaked with the first light of dawn. the camp was coming to life around you, the quiet rustling of movement as the others began their day. near the fire, you spotted hani, her dark hair pulled back as she crouched beside a spit, turning a rabbit that was roasting over the flames. the sight of it made your stomach growl, a reminder of just how long it had been since you’d eaten anything substantial.

you approached her quietly, offering her a small smile. “good morning,” you said softly, not wanting to startle her. hani looked up, her expression warm as she returned your greeting. “morning. thank you for keeping watch last night.”

you shook your head, waving off her thanks. “it was nothing. you should sit down for a bit, though. i can take over the cooking if you’d like.” she chuckled softly, shaking her head. “you’re a sweetheart, but i’ve got it under control. i’ve been doing this for a while now.” she paused, her eyes assessing you for a moment before she asked, “do you know much about guns?”

you nodded slightly. “enough to get by. why?” she motioned towards the bag you had brought with you, where the weapons were stored. “could you take over cleaning the ones you brought? we need to make sure they’re in good condition.” you nodded again, understanding the importance of keeping the weapons clean and functional. “of course,” you replied. “i’ll take care of it.”

“thanks,” hani said, her tone appreciative. “it’s a big help.” you retrieved the bag with the weapons, hefting it over your shoulder as you walked towards the edge of the camp. you needed space, somewhere quiet where you could focus on the task at hand. the forest loomed ahead, the trees casting long shadows over the ground as the morning light filtered through the branches.

as you walked, you caught taehyung’s eye across the camp. his gaze was sharp, unreadable, and you couldn’t quite place the look he gave you. it wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t friendly either. you offered him a small smile, hoping to ease whatever tension lay between you, but he didn’t return it. instead, he looked away, his expression hardening. pushing the encounter from your mind, you found a secluded spot beneath a large oak tree and set the bag down. the ground was damp with morning dew, the air thick with the scent of earth and foliage. you knelt down, unzipping the bag to reveal the assortment of weapons inside. pistols, rifles, even a couple of knives—all in need of cleaning.

you started with the pistols, methodically disassembling each one, laying the pieces out on a clean cloth. your hands moved with practiced ease, the motions familiar as you cleaned and oiled each part, ensuring they were in working order. the repetitive task was almost meditative, giving you something to focus on besides the lingering uncertainty in the pit of your stomach. as you worked, the sounds of the forest filled the silence—the chirping of birds, the rustling of leaves, the distant crack of a branch. it was peaceful, a stark contrast to the tension that had been gnawing at you since you’d woken up in that hospital. there, in that quiet moment, you felt a semblance of control, a small piece of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic world.

but the peace didn’t last. as you were finishing the last pistol, you heard a rustling in the bushes behind you, the sound too deliberate to be an animal. your heart leapt into your throat, and without thinking, you reached for the nearest gun, your fingers wrapping around the grip as you spun around, ready to defend yourself. before you could react further, you felt two hands on your shoulders, firm but not aggressive. you whipped around, your pulse racing, only to find yourself staring into jungkook’s amused eyes.

“this is the second time you’ve drawn your gun on me,” he said, a playful grin tugging at his lips. you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, lowering the gun as you scoffed. “and this is the second time you’ve scared me.”

he laughed, the sound low and rich, cutting through the tension that had built up in your chest. “fair enough,” he conceded, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “did you really clean all these guns by yourself?” pride swelled within you as you gestured to the neatly arranged weapons. “see for yourself.”

his grin widened as he glanced at the pistols, his eyebrows lifting in appreciation. “impressive,” he admitted, nodding in approval. “you’re full of surprises.” you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, a sense of satisfaction warming you from the inside. it felt good to be useful, to contribute something tangible to the group.

“come on,” jungkook said, jerking his head towards the forest. “let’s see if we can catch some game. we could use the meat.” you nodded in agreement, feeling a renewed sense of purpose as you followed him deeper into the woods. the forest was alive with the sounds of morning, the sunlight filtering through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor.

it didn’t take long to spot your first target—a rabbit, its small, gray body barely visible among the underbrush. you raised your gun, your breath steady as you took aim, focusing on the task at hand. the rabbit was still, unaware of the danger, and you hesitated for just a moment before pulling the trigger. the shot rang out, echoing through the trees. the rabbit fell, its body twitching slightly before going still. you lowered the gun, a sense of grim satisfaction settling over you as you approached the animal.

but as you drew closer, something about the rabbit caught your eye. its fur was matted, patches of it missing, and there were dark, swollen marks around its neck. you knelt down, examining it more closely, and your stomach dropped when you saw the unmistakable signs of a bite—jagged, deep wounds that could only have been made by a skinwalker. you stepped back quickly, your heart pounding as the reality of it sank in. the rabbit wasn’t just injured; it was infected. if you had touched it, eaten it.

“damn,” you muttered under your breath, fear creeping up your spine. jungkook, who had been watching from a few feet away, noticed the change in your demeanor. he walked over, his expression darkening as he saw the bite marks. “we should leave it,” he said, his voice low and serious. “it’s not safe.”

you nodded, your mouth suddenly dry. the encounter had shaken you more than you cared to admit, the fear of what could have happened lingering in the back of your mind. sensing your unease, jungkook gave you a reassuring look. “it’s okay,” he said gently. “we’ll find something else.”

he led the way deeper into the forest, his eyes scanning the surroundings with a practiced ease. you followed, trying to shake off the lingering fear, focusing instead on the task at hand. after a while, you spotted movement in the distance—a deer, its graceful form half-hidden among the trees. jungkook motioned for you to stay back as he raised his rifle, taking careful aim. you watched, holding your breath as he steadied his shot, his finger tightening on the trigger.

the shot was clean, the bullet finding its mark. the deer stumbled, then fell to the ground, its body going still. relief washed over you, mingled with a sense of admiration for jungkook’s skill. you approached the fallen deer together, your hands steady as you began the process of cleaning it. the work was familiar, the motions practiced, but there was a heaviness to it now, the encounter with the rabbit still fresh in your mind.

he watched you as you worked, a small grin tugging at his lips. “i didn’t take you for a hunter,” he remarked, his tone light. you glanced up at him, a smirk playing on your lips. “yeah, well, you took me for a skinwalker.”

he rolled his eyes, though there was no malice in his expression. “i’m glad you’re not.” you both shared a small laugh, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating as you finished cleaning the deer. it was hard work, but it felt good, grounding you in the reality of the moment, reminding you that you were still here, still fighting.

with the deer cleaned and ready, you and jungkook headed back to the campsite. the sun was higher in the sky now, casting a warm glow over the clearing as you emerged from the trees. the others were waiting, their faces lighting up when they saw the deer. hera was the first to spot you, her eyes widening with pride as she ran over to you. “did you really clean it?” she asked, her voice full of admiration. you nodded, a warm smile spreading across your face. “i did.”

from behind, you heard taehyung’s voice, cold and sharp. “good,” he said, his tone biting. “you should be making yourself useful anyway.” silence fell over the group, the air thick with awkwardness. you felt the sting of his words, the way they cut through the camaraderie that had been building. you didn’t understand where his hostility was coming from, but it was clear that he didn’t trust you, didn’t want you here.

you noticed hani out of the corner of your eye, hovering over a crate of wet clothes, her movements slow and tired. concern for her well-being overshadowed the hurt from taehyung’s comment, and you quickly moved over to her. “hey,” you said softly, placing a hand on her arm. “you should get some rest. i can hang the clothes to dry.”

she looked at you, gratitude in her eyes as she nodded. “thank you,” she whispered, her voice tinged with exhaustion. as you gathered the clothes, you could feel taehyung’s eyes on you, his gaze heavy and unyielding. you refused to meet it, focusing instead on the task at hand. hoseok, sensing the tension, turned to him, his expression puzzled.

“what’s your problem?” hoseok asked, his tone laced with curiosity and concern. taehyung shrugged, his face impassive. “i don’t trust her.”

hera’s voice was firm as she spoke up, her tone leaving no room for argument. “if we could trust anyone, it would be her.” jungkook, who had been watching the exchange from afar, smiled to himself, his gaze lingering on you as you walked away with the clothes. there was something about you that intrigued him, something that made him believe that hera was right.

as you hung the clothes to dry, you couldn’t shake the feeling of taehyung’s glare burning into your back, the weight of his distrust heavy on your shoulders. but you refused to let it break you. you were determined to prove your worth, to show them all that you were more than capable of pulling your weight. you took your time with the clothes, the fabric heavy and damp in your hands as you draped each piece over the thin wire stretched between two posts. the morning air was crisp, the kind that made your breath fog slightly, but the warmth of the rising sun began to chase away the chill. around you, the camp slowly stirred to life, the quiet sounds of people waking up blending with the natural world—a bird’s distant call, the rustle of leaves, the crackle of the dying fire from last night.

you focused on the task, trying to lose yourself in the simplicity of it, finding a strange comfort in the routine. with each piece of clothing hung, you felt a small sense of accomplishment. it was something normal, something to hold onto in the midst of everything that had become so abnormal. as you clipped the last piece of clothing to the line, the quiet of the morning was broken by the sound of footsteps behind you. you turned to see jimin and hoseok approaching, their expressions warm and inviting, a welcome contrast to the anxiety that had settled in your chest since you arrived.

“need a hand?” jimin asked, his voice soft yet cheerful, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made you feel at ease. you smiled, nodding as you handed him a damp shirt to hang. “sure, thanks.”

the three of you worked in comfortable silence for a few moments, the rhythm of the task almost meditative. jimin eventually broke the quiet, his tone casual but genuinely interested. “where’d you find the food?” he asked, glancing over at you. “i thought the stores in seoul were all cleared out.”

you paused, the memory of your frantic journey through busan flashing in your mind. you could almost smell the musty air of the abandoned store, feel the sharp edge of desperation as you grabbed whatever you could find. “i got it from busan,” you said, unable to hide a small, nostalgic smile as you thought of your hometown. jimin’s eyes widened in surprise and excitement. “no way! i’m from busan too!”

you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, the coincidence lifting your spirits. “really? i can’t believe you were so close this whole time. it feels like a lifetime ago.”

“tell me about it,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “i used to hang out at haeundae beach all the time. do you remember the food stalls there? the tteokbokki was the best. i’d always grab some before heading to the beach.” you felt a pang of bittersweet emotion at the memory. “i used to go there with hera,” you replied, your voice softening. “it was one of our favorite spots. busan feels like a different world now, doesn’t it?”

he nodded, his expression tinged with a similar sadness, but also a shared understanding. “yeah, it does. but it’s nice to meet someone who knows that world, you know?” hoseok, who had been quietly working beside you, couldn’t resist adding his own thoughts. he grinned widely, his bright energy a welcome contrast to the bleakness of your situation. “it must be fate that you two found each other here.”

you smiled at the thought, the idea of fate bringing a flicker of hope to your heart. but before you could respond, another voice, colder and sharper, interrupted the moment. “what must be fate?” taehyung’s voice was laced with suspicion, his eyes narrowing as he approached, his posture tense and guarded. he leaned casually against the fence, but there was nothing relaxed about the way he looked at you, his gaze sharp and calculating.

hoseok turned to him with a lighthearted tone, trying to defuse the tension. “(y/n) and jimin both coming from busan,” he explained, his smile genuine as if hoping to include taehyung in the conversation. but he didn’t soften. instead, his lips twisted into a grimace as he folded his arms across his chest. “maybe you should think about going back to busan then,” he suggested, his words carrying a harsh edge.

jimin’s brow furrowed in confusion, his cheerful demeanor dimming slightly as he looked at taehyung. “why would she do that?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. “there’s not enough food to go around for all of us,” taehyung replied, his tone icy as he shifted his gaze back to you. “might as well save everyone the trouble.”

his words stung, cutting through the tentative sense of belonging you’d started to feel. you wanted to defend yourself, to remind him that you’d brought food too, but before you could speak, hoseok beat you to it. “the food from last night was what (y/n) brought,” he said firmly, his usual bright demeanor replaced with a rare seriousness as he stood up for you.

taehyung’s eyes flashed with irritation, and he opened his mouth to retort, but before he could get a word out, another voice cut through the tension. “do you ever know when to shut your mouth?” jungkook’s voice was low and hard as he approached, his gaze fixed on taehyung with an intensity that made the air around you seem heavier.

he scoffed, straightening up as he turned to face jungkook, his stance challenging. “if you want to starve, be my guest,” he snapped, his voice dripping with disdain. the confrontation between them was thick with unspoken challenges, the tension palpable. you felt caught in the middle, your heart pounding in your chest as the situation escalated. without thinking, you spoke up, trying to find a solution that wouldn’t lead to more conflict.

“i could make a run to busan,” you offered, your voice steady despite the uncertainty you felt. “get more supplies.”

jimin and hoseok both looked at you with concern, their expressions showing they didn’t think it was a good idea. jimin was the first to voice his worries. “it’s too dangerous,” he said, his voice soft but firm. but taehyung decided to play the contrarian, nodding in approval. “good idea. at least someone’s thinking,” he said, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

before you could respond, jungkook stepped in, his tone leaving no room for argument. “you’re not going alone.” you turned to him, your eyes meeting his. “i can handle it,” you insisted, not wanting to seem weak or incapable.

but he shook his head, his expression unwavering. “i’m going with you.” taehyung, who had been watching the exchange with a growing smirk, leaned in closer, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “congrats, (y/n). you’ve got a knight in shining armor.” he shot jungkook a mocking look before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving the rest of you in an awkward silence.

you watched him go, feeling a mix of frustration and anger, but also confusion. taehyung’s hostility was baffling, but jungkook’s presence beside you was a source of comfort, grounding you in the midst of the the unexpected tension. when you looked back at him, his expression softened slightly, and there was an understanding in his eyes—a silent promise that he wouldn’t let you face whatever was out there alone.

“don’t let him get to you,” he said quietly, his voice breaking through the tension. he glanced in the direction taehyung had gone, then back at you. “some people just don’t know how to deal with what’s happening.” you nodded, appreciating his words, though the sting of taehyung’s attitude still lingered. “thanks,” you murmured, feeling a bit more at ease knowing he had your back. you expected survival to be your biggest concern, the creatures of the undead lurking in the woods. you had second-guessed just how much other people would be a bother.

the camp was alive with the sounds of morning—rustling leaves, distant birdsong, and the gentle murmur of conversations as everyone began their day. you felt a sense of quiet determination as you and jungkook moved toward hani, who was sitting by the fire with hera. the warmth of the flames contrasted with the cool morning air, and the smell of roasting rabbit still lingered in the air from breakfast.

he caught hani’s eye first, his expression serious but calm. “hani,” he began, his voice soft yet firm, “(y/n) and i are planning to make a run to busan for more supplies.” her brow furrowed slightly, weariness etched into the lines of her face. the life of survival had worn on all of you, but for hani, who carried so much of the group's burdens, it showed the most. her lips pressed into a thin line, concern flashing in her eyes. “busan? that’s a dangerous trip. are you sure it’s worth the risk?”

before you could respond, hera’s small voice cut through the conversation, her eyes wide with fear as she realized what was being discussed. “no,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she rushed to your side. her tiny arms wrapped around your waist, clutching you tightly. “don’t go, please don’t go. what if something happens to you?” her plea was like a knife to your heart, the sheer desperation in her voice almost breaking your resolve. you felt her trembling against you, and your heart ached with the weight of her fear. slowly, you crouched down so that you were at eye level with her, gently taking her small hands in yours.

“hera,” you said softly, your voice filled with warmth and reassurance, “nothing is going to happen to me. i promise.” you smiled, trying to infuse your words with as much confidence as you could muster, though the uncertainty of the world loomed over you like a shadow. she shook her head, her lower lip trembling as she clung to you even tighter. “but what if, what if something bad happens?” her eyes, wide and innocent, searched yours for any sign of doubt.

you felt your throat tighten as you pulled her into your arms, holding her close as if to shield her from the harsh realities of the world around you. “i’ll be back before sundown,” you whispered into her hair, smoothing it down with one hand. “and i’ll bring back lots of food and supplies. we’ll be safe, i promise.” her tiny arms wrapped around your neck, and she buried her face in your shoulder, refusing to let go. the warmth of her embrace filled you with both a sense of responsibility and a fierce determination to keep your word.

as you held her, you became aware of the others watching. hani’s expression softened, the worry still present but mixed with a reluctant acceptance. she knew better than anyone the risks of this new world, but she also understood the necessity of your mission. hoseok offered you a supportive nod, his usual bright energy subdued but still present in the way he smiled at the two of you. jimin stood a little ways off, his eyes gentle as he observed the scene, a silent reassurance in his gaze. even jungkook, who had been standing quietly beside you, had a softness in his expression as he watched hera cling to you. taehyung remained distant, his gaze averted as if unwilling to witness the emotional exchange. his aloofness cut through the warmth of the moment, a cold reminder that not everyone in the group trusted you yet. it stung, but you tried to push the thought aside. there were more important things to focus on right now.

finally, jungkook stepped forward, crouching down beside you and hera. he reached out, gently brushing a stray tear from her cheek with the back of his hand. “i’ll take good care of her, hera,” he promised, his voice gentle but steady. “i won’t let anything happen to her.” your heart fluttered at his words, the sincerity in his tone wrapping around you like a protective blanket. the way he looked at your sister, with such care and affection, only deepened the growing warmth in your chest. he was a natural protector, and in that moment, you felt an undeniable sense of trust in him—something that wasn’t easy to come by in these times.

hera pulled back slightly, her teary eyes flicking between you and jungkook. “promise?” she asked, her voice small and full of hope. he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he nodded. “i promise.” she hesitated for a moment, her grip on you still firm, but the conviction in jungkook’s voice seemed to ease her fears. slowly, she nodded, though she still clung to you as if letting go meant losing you forever. you hugged her once more, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before finally standing up.

“we’ll be back before you know it,” you said, trying to keep your tone light and reassuring, even as the weight of the task ahead pressed down on you. she nodded again, her small hand slipping into yours as if needing that last bit of connection before you left. you gave it a gentle squeeze, hoping to convey through that simple touch all the love and protection you felt for her.

the preparations for your journey were swift but thorough, the weight of the task ahead pressing on everyone’s mind. as the group saw you and jungkook off, the air was thick with a mix of concern and hope. hera held onto your hand until the very last second, her grip tight as if willing you to stay. you gave her one final, reassuring smile before you and jungkook turned toward the horses tied up near the edge of camp.

the horses were strong and sturdy, their coats gleaming under the pale morning light. you approached one, a deep brown mare with a calm demeanor, while jungkook untied her reins. he patted her neck, murmuring something under his breath that seemed to soothe her. the animal’s large, gentle eyes met yours, and you felt a pang of nervousness at the thought of riding again after so long. the last time you’d ridden a horse was before everything had fallen apart—when the world was still whole, still recognizable.

jungkook must have noticed the hesitation in your eyes because he glanced back at you with a small, reassuring smile. “don’t worry, she’s a good horse,” he said, his voice steady. “she’ll take care of us.” you nodded, swallowing down the nerves as you approached the mare. he swung up into the saddle first, his movements fluid and practiced. he turned, extending a hand down to you. you hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his, the warmth of his grip steadying your resolve. with a firm tug, he helped you up, guiding you to settle in front of him on the saddle.

the moment you were seated, you realized just how close the two of you were. your back was pressed against jungkook’s chest, his arms on either side of you as he held the reins. his presence was warm and solid, a comforting contrast to the cold uncertainty of the world around you. you tried to focus on the task, but the feeling of his body against yours was impossible to ignore. “comfortable?” he asked, his voice low and close to your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. you nodded, your throat suddenly dry. “yeah, i’m good.”

he chuckled softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “hold on tight, just in case.” taking his advice, you reached up and gripped the edge of the saddle, but it felt inadequate. there was still a small part of you that was uneasy, the fear of falling gnawing at the back of your mind. sensing your discomfort, he shifted slightly, adjusting his grip on the reins with one hand while the other came to rest gently on your waist. “this might be easier,” he murmured, his voice warm against your ear.

the gentle weight of his hand at your waist was both comforting and distracting. you nodded again, feeling your cheeks heat up, and then the horse began to move, her steps smooth and deliberate as she set off on the path toward busan. the journey started quietly, the sound of the horse’s hooves against the dirt path the only thing breaking the morning’s stillness. the trees overhead were thick with leaves, their branches arching across the path to create a tunnel of green that filtered the sunlight into soft, dappled patterns on the ground. the air was cool, carrying the scent of damp earth and distant wildflowers, a small reminder of the beauty that still existed in the world, despite everything.

jungkook guided the horse with practiced ease, his movements confident and sure. you focused on the rhythmic sway of the horse beneath you, the steady rise and fall that made you feel like you were part of the landscape, moving in sync with the world around you. the unease you had felt earlier began to melt away, replaced by a sense of calm as you became accustomed to the ride. the forest around you was alive with the quiet sounds of nature—birds singing, leaves rustling in the breeze, and the occasional crack of a twig underfoot. as you traveled deeper into the woods, the path grew narrower, the trees denser. you felt the brush of branches against your arms and legs as the horse navigated the increasingly rugged terrain.

after some time, the gentle motion and the warmth of jungkook behind you began to lull you into a sense of drowsiness. you fought it at first, determined to stay alert, but the early morning and the stress of the past few days had taken their toll. your eyelids grew heavy, the sounds of the forest fading into the background as your mind began to drift. “hey,” jungkook’s voice cut through the haze of sleep, gentle but amused. “you’re not falling asleep on me, are you?”

you blinked, startled by how close you had come to dozing off. you hadn’t realized how much you had relaxed into him until now, your head resting lightly against his shoulder. embarrassed, you straightened up, trying to shake off the drowsiness. “sorry,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “didn’t mean to.” jungkook’s laughter was soft and good-natured. “it’s okay. you’ve been through a lot. i don’t mind being a pillow.”

despite the situation, you couldn’t help but smile at his teasing tone. “a comfortable pillow, i gotta add.” he chuckled again, the sound warming the chilly air around you. “well, go ahead and rest if you need to. we’ve still got a long way to go.” you considered his offer, the temptation to give in to the exhaustion pulling at you. but part of you didn’t want to let your guard down completely, not when you were on a mission as important as this. still, the comfort of the ride and the safety you felt in his presence made it hard to resist.

eventually, you let your head rest against his shoulder once more, the steady rhythm of the horse’s gait and the rise and fall of jungkook’s breathing lulling you into a light sleep. you drifted in and out of consciousness, the sounds of the forest and the warmth of his body blurring together into a comforting haze. by the time you woke again, the sun had climbed higher in the sky, casting long shadows on the path ahead. you sat up, blinking the sleep from your eyes as you took in your surroundings.

the trees had thinned out, giving way to the remnants of civilization. the outskirts of busan were visible in the distance, a contrast to the natural beauty of the forest. buildings stood like skeletons, their once bustling interiors now empty and crumbling. the streets, once filled with life, were eerily silent, devoid of any movement save for the occasional rustle of debris caught in the wind. jungkook felt you stir and glanced down at you with a small smile. “welcome back. you were out for a while.”

“sorry,” you said again, feeling a little guilty for leaving him to handle the journey alone. “did i miss anything?” he shook his head. “just a lot of trees and silence. figured you needed the rest more than i needed the company.” you appreciated his thoughtfulness, though you couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for falling asleep when you should have been alert. as the horse continued forward, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the city ahead. seoul’s skyline, once towering and majestic, was now broken and hollow, a ghost of its former self.

“this place used to be so full of life,” you murmured, the weight of what had been lost settling heavily in your chest. “yeah,” he agreed, his voice tinged with a sadness that matched your own. “hard to believe it’s the same city.” as you drew closer to seoul’s main point, the atmosphere shifted. the air grew thicker, more oppressive, as if the city itself was holding its breath. the closer you got, the more the reality of what you were about to face set in. the city was a dangerous place, filled with the remnants of people who hadn’t made it through the catastrophe. and worse still, the possibility of encountering skinwalkers loomed over you like a dark cloud.

jungkook must have sensed your unease because he adjusted his hold on the reins and leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “we’ll be okay. we just need to be careful.” you nodded, taking comfort in his calm demeanor. he had been through this before—navigating the ruins of the old world, facing the dangers that lurked within. his experience and confidence were something you could rely on, even as the fear gnawed at the edges of your mind.

the horse came to a stop as you reached the edge of the city. the streets were deserted, littered with debris and the remnants of lives long abandoned. the silence was oppressive, broken only by the distant sound of something creaking in the wind. jungkook dismounted first, his movements quiet and deliberate as he surveyed the area. after a moment, he turned and extended a hand to you. “ready?”

taking a deep breath, you accepted his hand and slid down from the horse, your feet hitting the ground with a soft thud. you felt a rush of nervous energy, but his steady demeanor beside you helped keep the fear at bay. “let’s find what we need and get out of here,” he said, his voice low but firm. you nodded in agreement, your eyes scanning the deserted streets. the stakes were high, but it would make all the difference to the group.

the streets of busan were as desolate as you remembered, each step echoing through the emptiness that surrounded you and jungkook. the buildings, once towering and majestic, now stood as mere husks of their former selves, looming like ghosts over the deserted streets. as you walked side by side, you found your thoughts drifting back to a time when the city was still alive—when the streets buzzed with the sounds of life, of people going about their daily routines. it was hard to believe that such a world had ever existed, but as you glanced up at the remnants of old storefronts and cracked sidewalks, you couldn’t help but remember the way things used to be.

“this way,” you murmured, leading him down a narrow alleyway that branched off from the main road. the alley was overgrown with weeds and littered with debris, but you knew this path like the back of your hand. ot was one of the few places in the city that held any semblance of familiarity, a relic of your childhood that had somehow survived the chaos.

as you walked, you found yourself sharing memories of the past with jungkook, your voice soft in the quiet of the alley. “i used to come here with hera when we were kids. there was this little convenience store at the end of the alley. the owner was this old man who always had a kind word and a free candy for us.” he glanced at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “sounds like a nice guy. surprised the store’s still standing after everything that’s happened.”

you nodded, the nostalgia settling over you like a warm blanket. “it’s one of the few places in the city that feels untouched, i guess. like a little piece of the past that’s still here, even when everything else is gone.” he hummed in agreement, his gaze shifting to the end of the alley where the store’s faded sign was just visible. as you neared the store, the tension in your shoulders eased slightly. despite the danger that loomed over every corner of the city, this place still held a certain safety for you—a sanctuary in the midst of the madness. jungkook broke the silence with a sudden, wistful sigh. “you know, i’d kill for a cigarette right now.”

the mention of cigarettes jolted something in your memory. you came to an abrupt stop, causing jungkook to glance at you in confusion. “what’s wrong?” without a word, you reached into your back pocket and pulled out the small, crumpled box of cigarettes you had picked up during your previous scavenging run. you had completely forgotten about them until now, the memory of stuffing them into your pocket slipping your mind amidst all the chaos.

his eyes widened as he caught sight of the box, a look of disbelief crossing his face. “i can’t believe you’ve been hiding these this whole time.” a guilty smile tugged at your lips as you shook your head. “i swear it wasn’t intentional. just forgot.”

he let out a soft laugh, his tension easing as he reached for the box. “forgot, huh? well, you just made my day.” you handed him a cigarette, along with a lighter, watching as he eagerly lit it up. the tension practically melted off his face as he took his first drag, his eyes closing in satisfaction. to your surprise, after lighting his own cigarette, he turned to you and held the flame up to your own. you hesitated for only a moment before leaning in, letting him light it for you.

“thanks,” you murmured, taking a drag and savoring the familiar taste of tobacco. it had been so long since you’d had one, the sensation was almost surreal. “no problem,” he replied, his voice lighter, more relaxed now that he had a cigarette in hand. the two of you began walking again, side by side, the smoke curling into the air above your heads as you continued down the alley.

“so,” he began after a moment of comfortable silence, “you and hera used to come here a lot?”

“yeah,” you replied, smiling at the memory. “it was our favorite spot. we’d save up our pocket money and come here to buy candy and snacks. the owner, mister kim, always gave us a little extra, just because he liked us.” jungkook nodded, a hint of wistfulness in his eyes. “aounds like a good guy. must’ve been nice, having a place like that.”

“it was,” you agreed softly. “it made us feel safe. like no matter what was going on in the world, we had this one little corner that was ours.” you walked in companionable silence for a while, the memories of your childhood warming you from the inside out. as you neared the store, you could see that it had changed very little since the last time you were there. the sign was faded and the windows were cracked, but it was still standing—still the same little store that had been a refuge for you and hera all those years ago.

jungkook paused as you approached the entrance, glancing at the old, weathered sign with a curious expression. “this is it?” you nodded, feeling a surge of nostalgia as you pushed open the door. the familiar creak of the hinges greeted you, the smell of dust and old wood filling your senses as you stepped inside. the store was dimly lit, the shelves mostly bare, but it still felt like a small piece of home.

“i’ll grab some food and water,” you said, breaking the silence as you pulled a bag from your shoulder. “you take whatever you can find. we’ll meet back here in a few minutes.” jungkook nodded in agreement, already scanning the shelves for supplies. as you made your way down the aisles, you couldn’t help but marvel at how little had changed. the store was nearly empty, but the layout was exactly as you remembered it—the same rows of shelves, the same old wooden counter at the back. It was as if time had stopped within these walls, preserving a piece of the past for you to find.

you picked out another bag from behind the counter, just as you had done with hera all those years ago, and began filling it with whatever canned goods and water you could find. the work was methodical, almost calming, as you focused on gathering what you needed. you could hear jungkook moving through the aisles behind you, the soft thuds of items being placed into his own bag. suddenly, a loud crash echoed through the store, followed by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. your heart lurched in your chest as you spun around, dropping the can of beans you had just picked up. Without a second thought, you sprinted toward the source of the noise, your breath catching in your throat.

as you rounded the corner, you saw jungkook on the ground, a look of shock and horror on his face as a figure loomed over him. the creature—because it was no longer human—towered over him, its eyes glowing a menacing red, its mouth twisted into a snarl. it was a skinwalker, its human features barely masking the monster beneath. panic surged through you, but you didn’t hesitate. with a surge of adrenaline, you rushed forward, locking an arm around the creature’s neck and yanking it off jungkook with all your strength. the creature hissed and thrashed, but you held on, your other hand reaching for the knife at your belt. with a swift, practiced motion, you drove the blade into its throat, the force of the strike sending a spray of dark, viscous blood across the floor.

for a split second, you feared that you had acted too rashly—what if it had been a human? but as the creature dropped to the ground, its eyes flashing red before it finally stopped moving, you knew that you had made the right choice. jungkook scrambled to his feet, breathing heavily as he glanced down at the now lifeless body. “holy shit,” he muttered, brushing the dust off his clothes. “you saved my ass.”

you couldn’t help but smile, despite the lingering fear in your chest. “hera,” you began, mimicking his earlier words with a teasing grin, “i’ll protect her.” he rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of amusement in his expression. “it caught me off guard.”

his gaze shifted to the body at his feet, his expression darkening as he crouched beside it. before you could ask what he was doing, he reached for your knife, his fingers curling around the handle with a grim determination. “you have to finish it off,” he said quietly, his voice laced with something you couldn’t quite place. and then, to your shock, he drove the knife into the creature’s head with a sickening crunch. “they never fully die unless you get the brain.”

the cruelty of the act made your skin crawl, but you couldn’t deny that he was right. the world you lived in now demanded such harsh measures—measures that were necessary for survival, even if they made you feel sick to your stomach. as you tried to shake off the unease, your gaze shifted to the aisle jungkook had been in. a quiet laugh bubbled up from your chest as you saw the box of condoms lying on the floor, the likely cause of the crash.

“what were you looking for over here?” you asked, your tone teasing as you pointed to the box. he glanced down, and to your amusement, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “i might need them at some point,” he mumbled, quickly stuffing the box into his bag as if hoping you hadn’t seen.

you raised an eyebrow, your grin widening as you caught the flustered look on jungkook’s face. his sudden bashfulness was a contrast to the confident, almost unshakeable demeanor he usually carried. the idea of him, out of all people, getting embarrassed over something as trivial as condoms made the situation all the more amusing. “need them at some point, huh?” you teased, tilting your head as you tried to catch his eye. “do you have a girlfriend stashed away somewhere that i don’t know about?”

jungkook finally met your gaze, and you could see a flicker of something mischievous in his eyes, though his cheeks were still tinged with that same boyish pink. he let out a soft chuckle, shrugging as if to shake off the embarrassment. “not yet,” he said, his voice carrying a teasing lilt. “but you never know when you might get lucky.” you rolled your eyes playfully, though you couldn’t help the slight warmth that spread through your chest at his words. he was flirting—lightly, but it was still there, lingering in the space between you like an unspoken possibility. you couldn’t quite tell if he was being serious or just trying to deflect the awkwardness of the situation, but either way, it was enough to make your own cheeks heat up.

jungkook’s eyes glinted with something unreadable as he prepared to remount his horse. you adjusted yourself, the strain of the long day suddenly hitting you with a wave of weariness. despite the comfort he offered with his presence, the lingering memory of his earlier remark about needing condoms made your cheeks flush involuntarily. the implications of that comment buzzed persistently in the back of your mind, and you tried to push them away as you gathered your composure.

“ready to head back?” his voice brought you back to the present. he was seated on his horse, looking at you with a casual yet attentive gaze. you forced yourself to nod, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “yeah, let’s go.” the two of you mounted the horse once more, and as you started riding, the rhythm of the horse’s steady gait beneath you began to soothe your frazzled nerves. the sun was in the sky, casting long, golden shadows over the deserted landscape. the air was cool, a welcome relief from the heat of the day, and you found yourself falling into a contemplative silence, your thoughts wandering as the miles of road stretched out before you.

jungkook’s earlier smirk lingered in your memory, and the memory of his flustered reaction when he revealed the condoms made your heart skip a beat. you caught yourself glancing over at him frequently, the way the fading sunlight highlighted the angles of his face, the way his eyes sometimes met yours with that playful glint. it was impossible not to think about what lay beneath the surface of those moments, to wonder if there was something more to his teasing.

as you neared seoul, a faint silhouette of a bar emerged in the distance. it was a solitary structure, seemingly untouched by the chaos that had engulfed the world. jungkook’s gaze followed yours, and he suddenly reined in his horse, bringing her to a halt. “hey, how about we stop there for a drink?” he suggested, pointing toward the bar with a casual nod. the sun was still hanging in the sky, its last light painting the horizon in shades of pink and orange. you looked at the bar, then back at him, a spark of curiosity igniting within you. “a drink? sounds like a good idea. we could use a break.”

he nodded approvingly and guided his horse toward the bar. you relaxed, the horse’s hooves clattering softly against the cracked pavement as you approached. he tied her to a nearby post and you both dismounted, the evening air cooler now that the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky. the bar’s door creaked as you pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit interior. dust motes danced in the narrow beams of light that filtered through the grimy windows. the bar was exactly as you had expected—completely abandoned, with a thick layer of dust covering every surface. bottles of alcohol lined the shelves behind the bar, their labels faded and worn.

jungkook made his way behind the bar, his movements fluid and confident. he retrieved a bottle of whiskey and began to pour two glasses, the amber liquid catching the light in a rich, golden hue. you took a seat at the bar, watching as he expertly filled the glasses. “you know,” you said, trying to break the silence that had settled between you, “whiskey is such a male drink. i thought maybe you’d go for something a bit lighter.”

he scoffed, a teasing smile playing at his lips. “oh, so you’re used to soju bombs, are you? guess you haven’t had the pleasure of a good whiskey then.” you raised an eyebrow, your competitive spirit flaring up. “i bet i can drink more whiskey than you.”

jungkook’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he held up his glass in a mock toast. “you’re on. the bottle’s full, so it must be fate.” you clinked your glasses together, the sound ringing out in the empty bar, and took your first gulp. the whiskey burned pleasantly as it slid down your throat, a warming sensation spreading through you. you could feel the alcohol working its way into your system, dulling the edges of your fatigue and sharpening the edge of the challenge.

the two of you drank steadily, the glasses being refilled with practiced ease. the whiskey’s rich flavor grew stronger with each sip, and you both laughed and bantered, the earlier tension slowly dissipating. the initial competitive edge softened into a more relaxed camaraderie, though neither of you were willing to concede defeat.

hours passed in a blur of alcohol and laughter, the room growing dimmer as the night progressed. you both reached a point where even the act of lifting the glass seemed like an effort, the whiskey taking its toll on your senses. the bottle was nearly empty, and both of you were feeling the effects of the alcohol, your laughter becoming more carefree and your movements more languid. jungkook finally leaned back, his face flushed from the drink, and held up his glass in a final toast. “i think we can call it a tie,” he said with a grin, his voice slightly slurred but still cheerful. you nodded, your head spinning pleasantly as you set your glass down. “tie it is,” you agreed, your own voice feeling a bit unsteady.

with the competition settled, a comfortable silence settled between you. jungkook looked over at you, his expression softening as he took in the sight of you, sitting there with a tipsy smile on your face. “so,” you said, trying to sound casual as you leaned against the bar, “what did you mean earlier with the condoms? were you serious or just messing around?”

jungkook scratched the back of his neck, his expression thoughtful. “i’m not really sure. it was just something that came to mind.” you raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile on your lips. “i think you were being serious.”

he brushed off the comment with a wave of his hand. “maybe. or maybe i was just trying to be funny.” you leaned in closer, your heart pounding in your chest. the alcohol had loosened your inhibitions, and you found yourself closing the distance between you and jungkook, your breath mingling with his. “i think you weren't,” you whispered, your voice low and soft. his breath hitched, his eyes locking onto yours with a mixture of surprise and something else—something that was unmistakably desire. the space between you seemed to shrink until there was nothing left but the two of you and the charged air that surrounded you.

without another word, jungkook closed the distance, his lips crashing against yours in a heated, passionate kiss. it was sudden and intense, a mix of urgency and raw emotion that took you by surprise. his lips were warm and insistent, moving against yours with a fervor that left you breathless. you melted into the kiss, your body responding instinctively as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. the taste of whiskey lingered on his lips, mingling with the sweetness of his breath. the kiss deepened, his hands finding their way to your waist, holding you firmly as he pressed you against the bar. you weren't exactly sure what pushed you to do it, maybe it was the sheer fact that the world had come to an end. the world had ended, yet you two remained. maybe it really was fate.

his hands began to wander, slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back. you gasped into his mouth, arching into his touch as he pulled you closer. the friction between your bodies grew more pronounced as the kiss grew hungrier, his tongue tracing the line of your lower lip before delving into your mouth. his touch was gentle, almost reverent, and you felt your own desire beginning to build, a slow burn that spread through your body like wildfire. you broke the kiss, panting softly, your eyes searching his for any sign of hesitation. jungkook's gaze was filled with a raw, unbridled passion that left no room for doubt. “i want you,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “please, let me have you.”

you nodded, your own voice a whisper. “take me, have me.” it was truly all he needed to hear. his hands moved to the buttons of your shirt, deftly unbuttoning them one by one. your heart raced as he peeled it off, revealing your clothed tits. neither of you had attire on that would make a lasting impression, but neither of you seemed to care. his eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive skin of your collarbone, sending shivers down your spine. “you really are pretty,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

you felt his hands move to the clasp of your bra, his fingers fumbling slightly with the unfamiliar mechanism. with a soft chuckle, you reached around and unhooked it yourself, letting the fabric fall away to reveal your bare tits. jungkook's eyes widened with awe, and he leaned in to kiss and nibble at your neck, making his way down to your chest. his mouth found your nipples, his teeth grazing against the sensitive flesh, allowing you to moan and arch into his touch.

his hands moved to cup your tits, his thumbs circling the stiff peaks as he continued to kiss and suckle. the sensation was overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure through your body. it had been a long time since you had done anything of the sort, and you could feel yourself growing wetter with every touch, your arousal building to a crescendo. “you like that?” he asked, his voice gruff and needy. you nodded, unable to form coherent words. “yes,” you managed to gasp out. “please don't stop.”

his hands slid down to your pants, unbuttoning them with the same urgent need. you stepped out of them, leaving you in just your underwear. jungkook took a step back, his eyes roaming over your body with an intensity that made you feel both exposed and desired. “i need to tell you something,” he said, his voice shaking slightly. “i've never done this before.”

you blinked in surprise. “you're a virgin?” he nodded, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. “yes,” he whispered. “but i want it to be with you.”

your heart swelled with affection and lust. “it's okay,” you assured him, taking his hand and leading him to a nearby table. “i'll make it good for you.” the world had ended, there was no reason not to. you didn't want to grow attached, you didn't want to attach yourself and love him during such a time, knowing he could slip away at any moment. but this was acceptable, you could let yourself have just the slightest of fun.

you sat on the edge of the table, your legs spread wide as jungkook stepped closer, his eyes locked onto yours. his hands found your panties, and with trembling fingers, he slid them down your legs. your breath caught in your throat as he knelt before you, his eyes traveling from your face to the apex of your thighs. “oh, fuck. you're so wet,” he murmured, his voice filled with wonder. you nodded, your voice a low moan. “touch me.”

his hands moved to your thighs, his fingers sliding up the soft skin before finally reaching your folds. he explored you tentatively, his touch feather-light as he traced your slit. you bit your lip, trying to keep the sounds of pleasure at bay. “like this?” he asked, his eyes searching yours for approval. you nodded, your voice a breathy whisper. “yes.”

his touch grew bolder, his fingers delving deeper, teasing your clit before sliding inside you. you threw your head back, the sensation of him filling you making you feel complete. “you're so tight,” he said, his voice filled with awe. “i don't wanna hurt you.” you reached down, taking his face in your hands. “you won't,” you assured him, your voice thick with desire. “just go slow.”

he nodded, his eyes never leaving yours as he slid one finger into your slick warmth, then two, moving them in a gentle rhythm that had your hips rocking against his hand. your moans grew louder, filling the empty bar with the sweet symphony of pleasure. his thumb found your clit, and he began to rub it in tight circles, his eyes watching as your expression grew more and more ecstatic. “you're so perfect,” he murmured, his voice filled with reverence. his movements grew more confident as he felt your body responding to his touch. your legs began to tremble, and you knew you were close to the edge. “right there,” you gasped, your voice strained. “don't stop.”

his fingers moved in a steady rhythm, his thumb pressing down with just the right amount of pressure as he continued to whisper dirty words into your ear. “you're gonna cum for me, aren't you?” he said, his voice low and rough. “you're gonna moan my name, yeah?” you could only nod, unable to form the right words as the orgasm built within you. jungkook leaned in, his mouth finding your nipple once again as he quickened his pace. the sensation was overwhelming, and with a sharp cry, you shattered, your body convulsing with pleasure. he held you through it, his gentle touch soothing you as the waves of ecstasy receded.

once your breathing had returned to normal, jungkook stood up, his eyes never leaving yours. “it's your turn,” you said, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. you slid off the table, pushing him down onto it instead. he watched as you unbuckled his pants, his eyes wide with anticipation. you could see his cock straining against the fabric of his boxers, the tip of it leaking enough to leave a stain, and your mouth watered at the sight.

you pulled his boxers down, his cock springing free. it was thick and long, the head a dark, angry red with need. “wow,” you murmured, genuinely impressed. jungkook blushed, his cheeks reddening even further. “i've never had anyone look at me like that before.” you leaned in, your breath hot against his skin as you took him in your mouth. his moan was music to your ears, and you began to suck, your tongue swirling around the tip as you took him deeper. his hands found your hair, gripping it tightly as he thrust his hips upwards, his body responding instinctively to the pleasure you were giving him.

you could feel his cock twitch and throb with every suck and lick, his muscles tensing as he grew closer to the edge. “i'm gonna cum,” he whimpered, his voice tight with restraint. you pulled back, giving him a wicked smile. “not yet,” you whispered, standing up to straddle him. “i wanna feel you inside me.”

you reached into his bag, pulling out one of the condoms he had bought earlier. jungkook watched with hooded eyes as you tore the packet open with your teeth and rolled it onto his erection. “are you sure?” he asked, his voice hoarse. you nodded, your eyes never leaving his. “more than anything.”

slowly, you lowered yourself onto him, feeling him stretch and fill you completely. jungkook's eyes rolled back in his head as he groaned, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “fuck, you're so tight,” he hissed. you took a moment to adjust to the feeling, your body clenching around him. then, with a gasp, you began to ride him, your movements slow and deliberate at first, building up speed as you grew more comfortable. his hands roamed your body, cupping your tits and squeezing your ass as he whispered dirty words into your ear, urging you to go faster, harder.

the friction between your bodies grew intense, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the bar. his grip tightened, his hips bucking up to meet yours as he reached his own climax, his body taut with pleasure. for a second, you wished he hadn't been so quick to buy the condoms, but it was the safer route. it was the route that assured you both you wouldn't be bringing any more children into the mess that claimed the world. it didn't matter, not with that look on his face. the gaping of his mouth, his eyes rolling into the back of his head with his hair plastered to his forehead. you had ruined him, and he had never been more grateful.

you collapsed onto him, your chest heaving as you both tried to catch your breath. his voice was a mix of satisfaction and disbelief. “that was—” he trailed off, unable to find the words to describe the intensity of the experience. you smiled, feeling a sense of pride in the way you had brought him to such a powerful release. “are you okay?” you asked, peeling yourself off of him gently. he nodded, his eyes still closed as he savored the feeling. “better than okay,” he murmured. “that was amazing.”

you chuckled, the sound echoing in the quiet bar. “you're not so bad for a first-timer,” you teased, leaning in to kiss him softly. his eyes snapped open, a mischievous glint in them. “you think?” he said, his voice low and playful. “maybe we should practice some more.”

you rolled your eyes, but the idea was tempting. the chemistry between you was palpable, and the desire hadn't waned even after the intense climax. “maybe we should get going,” you suggested, glancing out the window at the darkened sky. “it's getting late.” jungkook nodded reluctantly, his arms still wrapped around your waist. “yeah, we should.” he opened his eyes and looked around the room, the reality of their situation crashing back down on him.

the ride back to seoul was quiet, the rhythmic clip-clop of the horse’s hooves the only sound as you and jungkook traveled through the darkening landscape. the cool night air was a stark contrast to the warmth you had shared earlier, and your thoughts churned restlessly, replaying the intensity of the everything that had gone down, the sudden shift in your feelings. jungkook rode with a steady, focused demeanor, his presence a comforting anchor against the backdrop of the encroaching night.

the distant growling began as a faint, unsettling noise, like a distant echo of something primal and hungry. you exchanged a worried glance with him, but he merely tightened his grip on the reins and urged the horse onward. you both chose to ignore it, hoping it was merely the result of your overactive imaginations and the eerie quiet of the world that had fallen into disarray. as you approached the campsite, the familiar shapes of the makeshift shelters and tents came into view, their silhouettes dark against the twilight sky. jungkook guided the horse through the gate, and you dismounted with a sense of relief that you had made it back safely.

“we’re back,” jungkook called out as you both entered the campsite. hani’s face lit up with a mixture of joy and relief as she spotted you. “you’re back! thank god!” she rushed over, her eyes wide with gratitude.

jimin, too, looked visibly relieved, though his face was a mask of exhaustion. “you made it. i was getting worried.” taehyung, however, remained unfazed, his expression impassive as he observed the scene. his indifference only served to heighten your anxiety as you noticed the tension in the air.

hoseok emerged from one of the tents, holding hera’s small hand in his own. the sight of her, safe and sound, was a balm to your worried heart. but before you could fully relax, a guttural, menacing snarl cut through the evening air. the sound was unmistakably close, and a cold knot of fear tightened in your stomach. you turned to jungkook, panic rising in your chest. “we need to arm everyone.” his face hardened with urgency as he nodded. “get everyone ready.”

you dashed around the campsite, shouting instructions and grabbing weapons. the atmosphere was charged with tension as people scrambled to arm themselves, their faces mirroring your own fear. your eyes darted around, trying to assess the situation and protect those you cared about. but it was already too late. from the shadows emerged a horde of grotesque, nightmarish creatures, their forms twisted and deformed. they moved with a terrifying speed and hunger, their eyes glowing with malevolent intent. the campsite erupted into chaos as the creatures lunged forward, their growls and shrieks filling the air.

you shouted commands, urging everyone to defend themselves, but the creatures showed no mercy. the battle was brutal and swift. amid the confusion, you spotted hera, her small frame trembling as she looked around in terror. your heart ached with a primal urge to protect her. as you tried to reach her, a creature—larger and more vicious than the rest—seized her, pinning her to the ground with a savage grip. your breath caught in your throat as you saw its fangs sink into her throat. the sight was a gut-wrenching horror that rendered you momentarily paralyzed, your body frozen in shock.

hera’s eyes met yours, wide and filled with a silent, desperate plea. her mouth moved, forming a wordless scream as the creature ripped her throat open. blood poured from her wound, staining the dirt beneath her. the sound of her choking, gasping breaths was the only thing you could focus on, and you felt as though time had stopped. tears streamed down your face as you finally broke free from your paralysis. you scrambled toward her, your movements frantic and disoriented. the world around you seemed to blur as you tried to reach her, but the reality of her injury was too harsh, too immediate.

the creature was still there, its grotesque form looming over hera’s bleeding body. with a surge of desperation, you raised your gun and fired, the shot ringing out sharply. the creature’s head jerked back, its body convulsing before collapsing lifelessly. the noise of gunfire and the dying howls of the creatures were all that punctuated the silence that followed. the campsite fell eerily quiet, everyone pausing to process the horrifying scene. your eyes remained locked on hera’s dying form, her body growing still. the sight of her lying there, the sister you had fought so hard to find, was a brutal twist of fate.

hani was sobbing uncontrollably, her cries echoing the agony you felt inside. even taehyung, usually so composed, had turned his back, unable to watch the tragedy unfold. the world seemed to collapse around you as you knelt beside hera, your hands trembling as you fumbled with your medical supplies. “help me,” you pleaded, your voice cracking as you reached out for the medicine.

jungkook was quick to respond, his own eyes red-rimmed with tears as he brought the supplies to you. the urgency of the moment did nothing to calm your frayed nerves. you worked frantically, tearing open gauze and pouring rubbing alcohol, but deep down, you knew it was too late. hera’s hand weakly grasped yours, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of sadness and resignation. “stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “it’s too late.”

you refused to accept it, your hands continuing to work despite the futility of the task. “no, baby. we can’t give up. i’m here. i’m here with you.”

her eyes were glazed with pain and exhaustion. her breaths were shallow, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. “i love you,” she said, her voice barely a breath. “i’m glad you found me.”

tears streamed down your face as you brushed the blood and hair from her pale face. you held her close, whispering apologies and begging her to hold on. “please, hera. don’t leave me. i need you.”

she weakly shook her head, her strength waning. “kill me,” she said softly, her voice cracking with the effort. “i can’t become one of them.”

you clutched her tighter, your heart breaking at her words. “no, hera, you can’t leave me. not like this.”

with one final tear slipping down her cheek, her eyes fluttered closed. her body went limp in your arms, and you felt an overwhelming wave of despair crash over you. the finality of her death was a cruel blow, and you were left holding her lifeless body, your cries echoing through the night. jungkook tried to hold you back as you thrashed and sobbed, his own tears mingling with yours as he watched helplessly. your hands, stained with blood, covered your face and clothes as you shook her body, pleading for her to wake up.

hoseok and jimin were distraught, their faces pale and their eyes filled with anguish. hani’s sobs were inconsolable, her grief visible as she tried to comfort you. taehyung had his back turned, unable to bear the sight of the tragedy unfolding before him. in the midst of the grief, you felt as though you had lost everything. the weight of hera’s death, the cruel twist of fate, and the relentless reality of the world you were living in all combined into a suffocating darkness that threatened to swallow you whole. the campsite was silent except for the sound of your sobs and the occasional, haunting howl in the distance. you were left with nothing but the shattered remnants of your hopes and dreams, the loss of your sister, and the overwhelming sense of defeat. the world outside might have been a barren wasteland, but inside, you felt as though you were drowning in an ocean of despair.

jungkook’s voice broke through the haze of your grief, desperate and choked with tears. “please, calm down. please, i’m begging you.” his hands were on your shoulders, trembling as he tried to steady you, but your sobs were uncontrollable, your body trembling with the force of your anguish. his words were like a distant echo in your ears, barely registering over the cacophony of your own despair. you had searched for hera for so long, through countless days and sleepless nights, through blood and fear, clinging to the hope that she was still alive, that you could save her. you loved her all your life, protected her, and now, after finally finding her, she was gone. ripped away from you in the cruelest twist of fate.

“please,” he whispered again, his voice breaking. “please, just breathe.” slowly, painfully, you began to calm, though the tears continued to flow unchecked down your cheeks. the sound of your ragged breaths filled the air, the only thing grounding you to the moment. but it wasn’t enough. nothing could be enough. how could it be, when you had lost everything?

jimin’s hand on your shoulder was a gentle weight, his touch warm and full of sorrow. “i’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. his presence was meant to comfort, but instead, it only deepened the ache in your chest. the weight of your new reality began to sink in, a heavy, suffocating pressure that left you gasping for air. you looked down at hera’s lifeless body, her face pale and peaceful, as if she were merely sleeping. but the truth was undeniable. she was gone, and there was nothing you could do to change that. the sight of her, so small and fragile in your arms, made your heart shatter all over again.

with a trembling hand, you reached for your gun, the metal cold against your skin. the others watched in stunned silence, their eyes wide with shock as they realized what you were about to do. but you couldn’t let her turn into one of those things, the very creatures that had stolen her life. you held the gun in both hands, your fingers shaking as you aimed it at her head. time seemed to slow, each breath you took feeling like it could be your last. the silence was deafening, every sound muffled by the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice cracking with the weight of your sorrow. “i’m so sorry, baby.” and then, with a sharp intake of breath, you pulled the trigger.

the gunshot rang out, a deafening sound that echoed through the campsite. everyone flinched, their expressions frozen in shock and horror as they stared at you. the gun fell from your hand, clattering to the ground with a hollow thud. your hand, now free, moved to cradle her head once more. you gazed down at her, the reality of what you had done settling over you like a shroud. you weren’t going to let her turn into the monster that killed her. you had saved her from that fate, but the cost was too high, too unbearable. she was still warm in your arms, her body unmoving, and the finality of it all was like a dagger to your heart.

hoseok wiped away his own tears, his face drawn with grief. hani was beside herself, her sobs uncontrollable as she clung to hoseok for support. even taehyung, who had tried so hard to remain detached, took one final, shocked look before turning away, retreating from the sight that was too much for him to bear. jungkook wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of your head. “i’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice thick with tears. “i’m so, so sorry.”

you were silent, the words trapped in your throat, too tangled with your grief to form a coherent response. his embrace was warm, comforting, but it did little to soothe the storm raging inside you. all you could do was sit there, holding hera’s lifeless body in your arms, the world around you fading into the background.

the night passed in a blur, the hours bleeding into one another as you remained by hera’s side. the others drifted in and out, their faces etched with grief and helplessness. they didn’t know what to say, how to comfort you in a moment like this. what words could possibly bring solace when the world had stolen everything from you?

the sky gradually lightened, the first rays of dawn creeping over the horizon. but you didn’t move, couldn’t bring yourself to leave her side. her body had grown cold in your arms, but still, you held on, as if by doing so, you could keep a part of her with you, keep her from slipping away completely. jungkook stayed with you throughout the night, his presence a silent comfort. he didn’t try to make you speak, didn’t force you to move. he simply sat with you, his hand resting on your shoulder, a steady, grounding force in the midst of your grief.

as the sun finally broke over the horizon, casting a golden light over the camp, you looked down at hera one last time. her face, once so full of life, was now still, peaceful in a way that tore at your heart. you had lost everything, but in this final moment, you made a silent vow to keep her memory alive, to carry her with you, no matter what. “goodbye, hera,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “i love you.”

the last of your strength seemed to leave you. you slumped forward, your forehead resting against hera’s, your tears mingling with the cold morning air. the world felt impossibly heavy, the weight of your loss almost too much to bear. but somehow, you knew you had to keep going. for her. for the others who still needed you. for the memory of everything you had lost.

with movements slow and deliberate, you extricated yourself from her lifeless body, the coldness of her skin a final reminder of what you had lost. as you stood, the world around you felt distant, like you were moving through a fog. your eyes, still swollen and bloodshot from the tears that had finally stopped falling, stared blankly at the campsite. the others were beginning to stir, their exhaustion evident in every movement, but your mind was already made up.

you approached the pile of weapons with a determined stride, your hands reaching out to begin loading the guns. the mechanical nature of the task gave your hands something to do, something to focus on other than the pain that threatened to swallow you whole. clip after clip, you loaded each gun with a practiced ease, your fingers moving with a steady, unfeeling precision.

one by one, the others awoke, their eyes settling on you, unsure of what to say, too afraid to ask if you were okay. the air was thick with the tension of unspoken words, the grief that hung over all of you like a heavy cloud. they could see the change in you, the hardening of your features, the way your hands moved with a purpose that bordered on obsession. they didn’t know how to approach you now, how to reach out to the person who had been broken so thoroughly the night before.

jungkook was the first to find his voice, his concern for you overriding his own grief. “what are you doing?” he asked, his voice soft, careful, as if he were afraid of pushing you too far. you didn’t look at him as you continued to load the guns, your voice cold and distant as you replied, “we need to relocate. the fences, they’re not doing their job. we’re not safe here.”

hoseok spoke up, his tone cautious. “are you sure that’s a good idea? where would we even go?” you shrugged, the motion stiff and mechanical, your face devoid of any emotion as you finally met his eyes. “i don’t care what you do. stay here if you want. but i’m leaving. with or without you.”

the bluntness of your words left everyone taken aback. they exchanged worried glances, the shift in your demeanor more shocking than anything they had seen from you before. but none of them could question it. none of them dared to. they all knew why you were like this, understood the depth of your pain, even if they couldn’t fully grasp the extent of it. jungkook stepped forward, his heart breaking at the sight of you. the dried tears on your cheeks, the bloodstains on your skin, the hollow look in your eyes—it was too much for him to bear. gently, he took your hands in his, trying to offer some comfort, though he knew it was a small, almost meaningless gesture in the face of what you had lost.

“we’ll go with you,” he said softly, his voice full of a sadness that matched your own. he squeezed your hands, hoping to offer some small reassurance. “we’ll all go with you.” the others murmured in agreement, their resolve firm even in the face of the unknown. they would follow you, wherever you went. there was no question in their minds. they couldn’t leave you alone, not after everything that had happened.

with everyone in agreement, the mood shifted from grief to grim determination. they began to pack up what little they had, the weight of the previous night still hanging heavily over them. the silence was thick, broken only by the sounds of their movements as they prepared to leave the campsite that had been their home, if only for a brief moment in time. you didn’t say anything more as you continued your work, your hands moving with a detached efficiency. when everything was ready, the group mounted the horses, each person somber, their minds weighed down by the events of the night. jungkook helped you onto the horse you would share, his hands lingering on your waist as if he were afraid you might slip away. you didn’t meet his eyes, your gaze fixed on something far off in the distance, beyond the pain, beyond the reality of your new life.

the campsite was a ghost of what it had been, the memories of the past days haunting the empty spaces. as you prepared to leave, you couldn’t help but take one last look, your eyes sweeping over the area that had once offered a fleeting sense of safety. and then your gaze fell on hera. her body, now cold and lifeless, lay where you had left it, a stark reminder of the cruelty of this world. your heart twisted in your chest, a fresh wave of grief crashing over you, but you couldn’t look away. you owed her that much.

for a moment, it felt as if time had stopped. the sounds around you faded away, the world shrinking down to just you and her. it was as if you were back in that nightmarish moment, the sight of her blood, the way her eyes had pleaded with you in those final, agonizing seconds. you couldn’t look anymore. it was too much. with a sharp intake of breath, you tore your eyes away, focusing on the path ahead. you felt jungkook’s hand tighten around yours as the horse began to move, carrying you away from the campsite, away from the memories that would haunt you for the rest of your life.

the woods loomed ahead like a dense, impenetrable wall, the trees casting long shadows in the early morning light. the air was thick with the smell of damp earth and the faint rustle of leaves, but the only sound that really registered in your mind was the steady thud of the horses’ hooves against the ground. no one spoke as you rode deeper into the forest, each of you lost in your thoughts, the silence heavy with the weight of your collective grief.

you didn’t know where you were going. none of you did. the destination didn’t matter. all that mattered was putting as much distance between you and the horror you had left behind. it was as if fate itself had taken the reins, guiding you into the unknown, toward whatever cruel end awaited you.

the horses, sensing the tension, began to grow restless. their movements became erratic, their heads tossing, their ears twitching in every direction. it was a sign—a warning that something was wrong. you could feel it too, a tightening in your chest, a prickle of unease at the nape of your neck. the others noticed as well, their hands tightening on the reins, their eyes scanning the surrounding trees for any sign of danger. then, you saw them.

they emerged from the shadows like phantoms, their forms shifting and blurring between human and something far more sinister. there were three of them, each one more terrifying than the last. their bodies were gaunt, stretched tight over bones that jutted out at unnatural angles, their faces twisted in a grotesque parody of hunger. their eyes glowed with a malevolent light, focused entirely on you and your group. hani gasped, the sound sharp and piercing in the silence, and your heart thudded painfully in response. jungkook, always ready to take charge, turned in his saddle, his voice rising in a barked command that cut through the tension like a knife. “get ready—”

but it was too late. the command was swallowed by the rush of blood in your ears, by the wave of anger that surged through you like a wildfire. the sight of them—those creatures, those monsters—brought it all back. the image of hera, broken and bloodied, flashed before your eyes, and all the fear that should have paralyzed you turned into something far more dangerous. you swung your legs off the horse with a fluid motion, the ground solid beneath your boots as you strode forward. the others called out to you, their voices edged with panic, but you didn’t hear them. all you could hear was the pounding of your own heartbeat, the roar of blood in your veins as you reached for your gun, steadying it in your hands.

you aimed, the barrel of the gun unwavering as you locked onto your targets. the first shot rang out, a deafening crack that echoed through the trees. the bullet struck the first creature squarely in the heart. it howled in pain, its body convulsing as it fell to the ground, but you knew it wasn’t dead. not yet. another shot, and then another. three shots, three hits. each one found its mark, burying itself deep in the chests of the creatures. they writhed on the ground, their howls of agony filling the air, but you felt no satisfaction. no relief. the rage inside you burned hotter, brighter, until it was all you could feel.

“shut the fuck up,” you snarled as if it could understand you, the words slipping from your lips like venom as you approached the first creature. its eyes, once so full of malice, were now wide with fear, its body trembling as you closed the distance between you.

without hesitation, you dropped to your knees, your hands wrapping around its throat. its fur was cold and clammy beneath your fingers, its pulse weak and fluttering as it struggled against you. you squeezed harder, your grip like iron as you watched the life drain from its eyes, your own breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps. it clawed at your hands, its strength waning as the light began to fade from its gaze. the world around you faded as well, the voices of your companions drowned out by the pounding of your heart. all that mattered was the creature in front of you, the way its body convulsed, the way its breaths turned into shallow gasps, then to silence. and then it was still.

you didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop to think as you pressed the barrel of your gun against its temple. the shot was deafening, the sound tearing through the quiet of the forest. the creature’s body jerked once, then went limp, its eyes now nothing but empty, lifeless sockets. you let the gun drop to your side as you rose to your feet, your legs unsteady beneath you. the second creature was still howling in pain, its voice a pitiful wail that grated on your nerves. you couldn’t stand it—couldn’t stand the sound of its suffering, couldn’t stand the reminder of the pain these things had caused.

you stalked over to it, your boots crunching on the fallen leaves as you drew closer. it looked up at you, its eyes wide with a mix of fear and something else—something almost like pleading. but you had no sympathy left to give. with a single, brutal motion, you kicked it in the ribs, the force of the blow sending it sprawling onto its back. the howl turned into a whimper, the creature curling in on itself as if trying to escape the pain. but there was no escape. not from you.

you kicked it again, harder this time, feeling the bones crack beneath the force of your boot. the whimpering grew softer, weaker, until it was little more than a pathetic whine. the sound filled you with a twisted sense of satisfaction, a dark pleasure in knowing that it was suffering—that it felt even a fraction of the pain you carried with you. but it wasn’t enough. it would never be enough. you raised your gun once more, aiming it directly between the creature’s eyes. the whimpering stopped as it looked up at you, its gaze filled with a terror that was almost human. almost. the shot was quick, clean. the creature’s head snapped back, its body going limp, and the forest fell silent once more.

you took a step back, your breath coming in harsh gasps as you tried to steady yourself. but there was no time for rest. the third creature was still alive, still watching you with those same hungry eyes, though now they were tinged with fear. you crouched beside it, your expression hardening as you met its gaze. It whimpered, its body shaking as it tried to crawl away, but you were faster. with a quick, practiced motion, you drew your knife, the blade glinting in the dim light as you held it up for the creature to see.

“please,” it rasped, its voice barely more than a whisper, the sound twisted and distorted as it tried to form words. but there was no mercy in you, not anymore.

you leaned in close, feigning a look of sympathy, your voice low and cold as you whispered, “you don’t get to beg.”

with that, you drove the knife into its throat, the blade sinking deep into its flesh. blood spurted from the wound, the creature’s body convulsing as it tried to fight, but you held it down, your grip like iron. you twisted the knife, the motion slow and deliberate, watching as the life drained from its eyes. the final breath rattled in its chest, its body slumping against the ground as the last of its strength left it. but you didn’t stop. you couldn’t. the anger still burned hot and fierce inside you, demanding more, demanding blood. with a final, brutal motion, you pulled the knife from its throat and drove it into its skull, the blade sinking deep into bone. the creature shuddered once, then went still, its eyes staring blankly at the sky above.

for a moment, you simply crouched there, your breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps as you stared at the bodies before you. the silence was deafening, the forest around you eerily quiet as if it, too, were holding its breath. when you finally stood, your hands were trembling, the knife still slick with blood as you wiped it on your jeans. the others were staring at you, their faces a mix of horror, sympathy, and something else—something you couldn’t quite name.

you couldn’t meet their eyes, couldn’t bear to see the pity, the fear, the judgment. all you could do was focus on the task at hand, on the steps you needed to take to keep moving forward. without a word, you turned and walked back to the horse, your legs feeling like lead as you moved. you mounted with stiff, mechanical movements, your mind still reeling from the violence, from the anger that had consumed you.

jungkook’s eyes met yours, his gaze filled with a deep, heartbreaking sympathy that made your chest tighten with a fresh wave of pain. he opened his mouth to speak, to say something—anything—but you didn’t give him the chance. “keep going,” you said, your voice flat, devoid of emotion. It was all you could manage. all you could allow yourself to feel. he hesitated, his hand reaching out to you as if he could offer some comfort, but you pulled away, your gaze fixed on the path ahead. there was no comfort to be found. no solace. only the cold, hard reality of survival.

the forest enveloped you in an overwhelming silence, the only sound the steady rhythm of hooves against the earth. each beat echoed in your mind, matching the hollow thudding of your heart. the trees closed in like towering sentinels, their branches interlocking overhead, casting flickering shadows across the path. the air was cool, but you felt nothing—no bite of the wind, no comfort in the shade. just numbness, a void where your thoughts should have been.

jungkook’s hand rested on your waist as he rode behind you, a gentle, anchoring touch that would have once brought comfort. now, it was simply another weight, another reminder of the world you inhabited—a world where tenderness was a luxury you couldn’t afford. his fingers pressed lightly, as if he were afraid you might break under the pressure, but you didn’t react. your body was there, solid and real, but your mind was adrift, lost in the aftermath of what you had just done.

you could feel the others behind you, their presence like shadows at your back, silent and heavy. no one dared to speak. not after what they had seen. they were with you, but they were alone in their thoughts, just as you were. perhaps they were trying to process the same thing—how you could have shifted so easily into that cold, ruthless killer, the one who had looked those monsters in the eyes and ended their lives without hesitation.

but none of that mattered now. the silence stretched on, growing thicker with each passing moment, until it became a tangible force, pressing down on you from all sides. even the forest seemed to hold its breath, the usual rustle of leaves and distant calls of birds eerily absent. there was nothing but the sound of hooves, the creak of leather, and the faint, steady breathing of the horses. jungkook’s hand tightened slightly, his thumb brushing against your side in a way that was meant to be soothing, but you barely registered it. his presence was a distant hum in the back of your mind, overshadowed by the cold, creeping numbness that had taken hold of you. your eyes were fixed ahead, unseeing, as the path stretched on endlessly before you.

then, something broke through the haze—a shape, emerging from the blur of trees and shadow. it was faint at first, a dark silhouette on the horizon, but as you drew closer, it solidified, taking form. your mind, sluggish and detached, struggled to make sense of it. it was a building, large and foreboding, its outlines jagged and stark against the sky. a prison. the word came to you slowly, sinking into the fog that clouded your thoughts. the horses sensed it too, their ears perking up, their pace quickening as if drawn by some unseen force. they moved with purpose, their steps more certain, more eager, as if they understood that place, that prison, held something you all needed.

the structure loomed ahead, its towering walls and barbed wire fences a stark contrast to the natural chaos of the forest. it was massive, a relic of a world long gone, its gray stone walls cracked and weathered with age. the gate, once a barrier meant to keep the world out—or perhaps to keep something in—hung open, its iron bars twisted and rusted, as if time itself had worn them down. the closer you got, the more you could see—the high, watchful towers that stood like sentinels at each corner, the shattered windows that gaped like empty eyes, the overgrown courtyard where weeds had taken root, choking out any trace of order. the place was abandoned, long forgotten, but it still held an air of menace, a lingering aura of despair and violence.

you slowed the horse as you neared the entrance, the others doing the same, their eyes fixed on the structure with a mix of caution and curiosity. that place, as desolate and grim as it appeared, offered something you desperately needed—shelter, security, the promise of walls that could protect you from whatever else lurked in the shadows. as you dismounted, the ground felt solid beneath your boots, grounding you in reality once more. the numbness receded just enough for you to focus, to take in the details with a cold, calculating eye. you led your horse to a nearby post, tying the reins with quick, practiced movements. the others followed suit, their actions mirroring yours as they secured their mounts.

the horses, sensing the tension, stamped their hooves and snorted, but they remained obedient, their heads lowered as if understanding the gravity of the moment. you gave the horse a brief, absent-minded pat before stepping away, your eyes sweeping over the entrance to the prison. the gate creaked as you pushed it open wider, the sound jarring in the quiet. It swung inward with a groan of protest, revealing a long, narrow corridor that led deeper into the compound. the walls on either side were tall and imposing, lined with cracked tiles and the remnants of old posters that had long since faded into obscurity. the air was thick with the scent of decay and mildew, a stale odor that spoke of years of neglect.

you moved forward, your steps slow and deliberate, each footfall echoing in the stillness. the others trailed behind you, their footsteps mingling with yours as you made your way into the heart of the prison. your eyes darted from side to side, taking in every detail—the rusted chains that hung from the walls, the empty cells with their iron bars twisted and broken, the remnants of a life that had once thrived here but was now long gone.

everywhere you looked, there were signs of violence, of desperation. the walls were scarred with deep gouges, as if someone had tried to claw their way out. the floors were stained with dark patches that might have been blood, long dried and faded. you passed by a cell where the door hung ajar, its hinges broken, the interior filled with debris—tattered blankets, discarded shoes, a single, withered plant that had somehow managed to grow in the darkness.

it was a place of death, of suffering, and yet, it felt safer than the world outside. there, within these walls, there was a sense of control, of containment. you could fortify this place, make it a stronghold against whatever else the world had to throw at you. you reached the center of the compound, a large, open courtyard surrounded by high walls and barbed wire. the ground was cracked and uneven, littered with debris—broken glass, twisted metal, the remnants of old fires. a few scattered pieces of furniture, rotted and sagging, hinted at attempts to make this place livable once, though those efforts had clearly failed.

jungkook was beside you now, his presence steady and calm, though you could feel the tension radiating off him. his eyes swept over the courtyard, taking in the same details you did, his mind likely working through the same calculations. he said nothing, but his hand found yours, his fingers curling around yours in a gesture of solidarity. the others spread out, moving through the space with cautious steps, their eyes wide as they took in their new surroundings. hani moved to the edge of the courtyard, peering into one of the cells with a wary expression. hoseok crouched down beside a rusted metal drum, his fingers tracing the outline of a handprint left in the dust. jimin and taehyung exchanged a glance, their unease mirrored in the set of their shoulders, but they said nothing, their eyes turning back to you for guidance.

you let out a slow breath, your chest tightening with a mix of dread and determination. it was awful. It reeked of death, of hopelessness. and yet, it was the best chance you had. the best chance to survive, to regroup, to find some semblance of safety in a world that had long since forgotten what that word meant. finally, you broke the silence, your voice rough and low as you addressed the group. “this is it,” you said, the words hanging in the air like a final judgment. “we’ll stay here tonight. we’ll fortify the place, make it secure. then, we’ll decide what to do next.”

there was no argument, no protest. they all knew there was no other option. the forest outside was filled with unknown threats, with dangers that would only grow more relentless as time went on. there, at least, you had walls. you had a chance. you turned back to the entrance, your mind already running through the tasks that needed to be done. the gate needed to be secured, the cells checked for any remaining threats. you’d need to set up a watch, make sure the perimeter was safe, that there were no weak points.

as the night began to descend upon the old prison, the air grew heavy with the scent of damp stone and lingering decay. the others had already set to work, driven by a desperate need to create some semblance of normalcy in a world that had long since abandoned it. the courtyard had become a flurry of activity, each person taking on a task that required their full attention, their minds focused on survival rather than the dark thoughts that threatened to creep in.

hoseok and jimin worked together to clear a space in one of the larger cells, dragging out rusted debris and sweeping away the layers of dust and grime that had settled over the years. they spoke in low voices, their words too quiet to make out, but the tension in their movements said enough. every now and then, they’d glance over at you, concern etched into their features, but they knew better than to interrupt.

jungkook busied himself with securing the entrance, his eyes sharp and calculating as he inspected the gate’s hinges and the surrounding walls. he moved with purpose, his hands steady as he reinforced the gate with whatever materials he could find—broken pipes, pieces of metal, anything that could act as a barrier against whatever might come. the others kept glancing his way, silently reassured by his presence, by the way he took control without hesitation.

hani had found a small room off to the side, the remnants of an old kitchen. she set about scavenging through the drawers and cupboards, hoping to find anything useful—canned goods, old utensils, anything that could be repurposed. her face was set in a determined frown, but you could see the faint glimmer of hope in her eyes when she found a few tins of food that had somehow remained unspoiled. taehyung was quieter than usual, his movements deliberate as he helped the others, but his eyes kept drifting your way. there was something in his gaze, a mixture of guilt and something else you couldn’t quite place. he was more subdued, his usual sharp remarks replaced with silence, his energy focused on the tasks at hand.

you couldn’t stay inside any longer. the walls, though protective, felt too close, too stifling, pressing in on you with memories of what you’d done. you stepped outside, into the open air of the courtyard, and let the cool breeze wash over you. It was a small relief, but enough to steady your racing heart, if only for a moment. as dusk settled over the prison, painting the sky in hues of deep purple and inky black, you shakily pulled a cigarette from your pocket, your fingers trembling as you fumbled with the lighter. the first inhale was harsh, burning your throat, but the familiar taste brought with it a sense of grounding, something to cling to amidst the chaos.

but then you looked down. the sight of your hands, stained with dried blood, sent a wave of nausea through you. the blood wasn’t yours— it was theirs, the creatures you’d killed without hesitation, without mercy. but there was also her blood, the remnants of your sister’s final moments clinging to your skin like a cruel reminder. you almost couldn’t bear it. the cigarette trembled between your fingers, and for a moment, you considered throwing it away, letting it burn out on the cold, hard ground. but then you heard the sound of footsteps behind you, soft and hesitant, and you stiffened, instinctively preparing yourself for another confrontation, another fight.

but when you turned, it wasn’t an enemy standing there. it was taehyung. his expression was unreadable, but there was no hostility in his eyes, no anger or judgment. instead, he was holding out a small, crumpled tissue, the corners of his lips pulled into a faint, almost apologetic smile. “here,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. you stared at the tissue for a moment, surprised by the gesture, by the softness in his gaze. slowly, reluctantly, you took it from him, your fingers brushing against his briefly as you did. the tissue felt small and insignificant in your hand, but you appreciated the thought behind it. silently, you wiped at the blood on your hands, though it did little to erase the stains that had already seeped into your soul.

in a quiet act of solidarity, you reached into your pocket and pulled out another cigarette, offering it to him along with the lighter. he hesitated for a second, then took it, his fingers steady as he lit the cigarette and took a long drag. the two of you stood there in silence, the night settling around you, the quiet only broken by the distant sounds of the others moving inside the prison. it wasn’t until the cigarettes were nearly burned to the filter that taehyung finally spoke, his voice low and rough, “i’m sorry.”

the words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. you turned to look at him, your eyes searching his face for some hint of what he was thinking, but all you saw was a strange mixture of guilt and sorrow. “it took my sister dying for you to be nice to me, is that it?” the words slipped out before you could stop them, harsh and bitter. but they were true, and you couldn’t bring yourself to regret them.

he didn’t flinch, didn’t look away. Instead, he held your gaze, the faint lines of exhaustion and pain evident in his expression. for a long moment, he said nothing, and you thought he might leave, but then he shook his head slowly. “no,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “i envied you.”

you blinked, taken aback by the admission. “you envied me?” you echoed, unable to hide the disbelief in your voice. “why?”

“because you found her,” he said simply, the words heavy with a sadness that cut through the quiet. “you found your sister. i found my brother, but not in the same way.”

there was a long pause, the weight of his words sinking in. you turned to fully face him, your heart tightening with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite name. “what do you mean?” you asked, though you weren’t sure if you really wanted to hear the answer.

taehyung stared down at the ground, his cigarette burning down to the filter, the ember glowing softly in the fading light. “i found him, but he had already turned into a skinwalker by then.” the revelation hit you like a punch to the gut. your breath caught in your throat as the full weight of what he was saying settled in. the horror of it, the unimaginable pain he must have felt, it was too much. but you didn’t interrupt, didn’t say anything, just waited as he continued, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke.

“i looked that thing dead in the eye and knew it was him,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “there was nothing left of the brother i knew, just hunger. the same hunger you saw tonight.” he paused, swallowing hard before he continued. “i had to take his life, the same way you had to take hera’s.”

for a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken understanding. you felt a pang of sympathy, a deep, aching sadness for the pain he had endured, for the burden he had carried alone. “i’m sorry,” you whispered, the words inadequate but sincere. taehyung shook his head, a small, bitter smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “don’t be,” he said softly. “if he had lived, i think he would’ve gotten along with her.”

the unexpected tenderness in his voice caught you off guard, and for a brief moment, you allowed yourself to imagine it—your sister and taehyung’s brother, alive and well, laughing and joking together in a world that wasn’t torn apart by monsters and death. it was a fleeting thought, one that was quickly swallowed by the harsh reality of your situation, but it was enough to bring a small, sad smile to your lips. but the moment passed, and you were once again reminded of the blood on your hands, the lives you had taken, the sister you had lost. your hands began to tremble again, the cigarette slipping from your fingers and falling to the ground, smoldering in the dirt. you stared down at them, the tremors growing stronger, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once.

taehyung noticed. he reached out, gently taking your hands in his, his touch warm and grounding. “don’t detach,” he said quietly, his voice firm but kind. “not yet. the group needs you.”

his words, simple as they were, cut through the fog of despair that threatened to overwhelm you. you met his gaze, seeing the sincerity, the understanding in his eyes. he wasn’t just asking you to stay present for the group’s sake—he was asking you to hold on, to fight against the numbness that threatened to consume you, to find some reason to keep going, even if it was just for a little while longer. you nodded, the movement slow and reluctant, but it was enough. you knew he was right, even if you couldn’t fully believe it yet. the group did need you. they needed all of you, working together, supporting each other, if you were going to survive the hellish world.

the night was still, the weight of the day’s events pressing down on the small group like an invisible burden. the old prison offered a semblance of shelter, but the cold, unfeeling stone walls did little to ease the tension that hung in the air. everyone was tired—physically, mentally, emotionally. the exhaustion was evident, settling in their bones and dragging down their movements as they slowly prepared to sleep.

hani was the first to approach you, her eyes full of concern as she stepped closer. she hesitated for a moment before she spoke, her voice soft and tentative. “how are you holding up?” she asked, her words heavy with the weight of everything unsaid. you wanted to answer, to reassure her that you were fine, but the truth was lodged somewhere deep inside, tangled in a mess of emotions you couldn’t quite unravel. so, instead of speaking, you just nodded, a small, jerky motion that conveyed none of what you were feeling but was all you could manage in that moment.

she didn’t push, didn’t ask for more. she simply nodded back, a silent acknowledgment of your response, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned away to find her own spot to sleep. it should have been the end of the interaction, but then, out of nowhere, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you, pulling you into a gentle embrace. it was jimin. his touch was warm, his hug firm but not suffocating. you could feel the steady beat of his heart against your chest, the rise and fall of his breathing. for a moment, you were too stunned to react, your body stiff in his arms, unsure of how to respond to the sudden show of affection. but then, slowly, you allowed yourself to relax, to lean into the embrace and accept the comfort he was offering.

you didn’t say anything, didn’t know what to say. words felt too clumsy, too inadequate to convey the storm of emotions swirling inside you. but jimin didn’t seem to need words. he just held you, offering a quiet, unspoken understanding that was more comforting than anything anyone had said to you all day. when he finally pulled back, there was a small, reassuring smile on his face, and you found yourself returning it, even if only slightly. the warmth of the hug lingered, a small balm against the cold reality that had settled in your heart.

but as he moved away, you noticed taehyung lingering behind you, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that was hard to ignore. he didn’t say anything, didn’t need to. his presence was enough to draw jungkook’s attention, and you saw the way his eyes narrowed slightly, concern evident in the lines of his face. “what happened?” he asked, his voice quiet but filled with an undercurrent of worry.

you met his gaze, the weight of the day’s events still heavy on your shoulders. “we talked,” you said simply, your voice betraying none of the depth of the conversation you and taehyung had shared earlier. to everyone’s surprise—and perhaps horror—taehyung smiled. it wasn’t the sharp, mocking smile they were used to seeing from him, but a genuine one, soft around the edges and full of something that almost looked like relief.

hoseok’s eyes widened comically, and he let out a loud cackle that echoed off the stone walls. “someone write this down,” he said, barely containing his laughter. “taehyung actually smiled. this should be documented.” the sound of laughter filled the room, a rare, welcome sound that broke through the tension that had gripped them all day. even you found yourself laughing, a small, genuine chuckle that surprised even you. it wasn’t much, but it was something—a brief moment of light in the darkness.

taehyung shook his head, still smiling, and muttered, “fuck off,” though there was no real bite to his words. the smile remained, lingering on his lips as he found his own spot to settle in for the night.

everyone gradually found their places, creating makeshift beds from the few blankets and sleeping bags they had managed to bring with them. the space was limited, and the proximity was closer than anyone would have preferred, but no one complained. they were grateful just to have somewhere to rest, somewhere that felt even marginally safe.

as you looked around the cramped space, your eyes fell on jungkook, who was settling into a small corner, his back pressed against the cold stone wall. the sight of him, so alone and yet so steadfast, tugged at something deep inside you. you hesitated for a moment, but then the lack of space became all too apparent, and you found yourself speaking before you could second-guess the decision. “jungkook,” you called softly, your voice carrying over the quiet murmurings of the others. He looked up, his eyes meeting yours, a flicker of surprise crossing his features as you continued. “can i get in with you?”

for a moment, he just stared at you, clearly taken aback by your request. his cheeks flushed a faint pink, and he quickly averted his gaze, nodding almost too eagerly. “yeah, sure,” he stammered, shifting over to make room for you. you moved closer, carefully lowering yourself beside him, the small space forcing you to press up against him more than you anticipated. the warmth of his body was immediate, seeping through the thin layers of clothing and into your skin. it was comforting in a way you hadn’t expected, a small solace in the midst of everything.

the space was tight, the proximity almost intimate, and as you both settled in, you felt jungkook’s body begin to relax beside you. he hesitated for a moment, his breath hitching slightly, but then he shifted closer, his arm wrapping around you in a tentative hug. you didn’t mind it. in fact, you found yourself leaning into the embrace, letting his warmth envelop you, grounding you in a way that nothing else had. the sound of his steady breathing, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against yours, was soothing, a quiet reminder that you weren’t alone.

the others slowly drifted off to sleep, the quiet sounds of their breathing filling the room. but you and jungkook remained awake, the silence between you both heavy but not uncomfortable. after what felt like an eternity, his voice broke the silence, his words barely more than a whisper. “are you asleep?” you shook your head, the movement slight but enough for him to notice. his grip on you tightened slightly, and you could feel the tension in his body as he struggled with whatever it was he wanted to say.

“i know you’re going through a lot,” he began, his voice soft and full of concern. “and I know it’s not my place to say this, but i don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this. i’m here for you, fuck, i love you.” you felt your heart tighten at his words, the sincerity in his voice cutting through the fog of despair that had settled in your mind. you wanted to believe him, to take comfort in his words, but the fear of losing someone else, of getting attached only to have them ripped away, was too overwhelming.

“i can’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “i can’t risk loving you and losing you too.”

he was silent for a moment, his arms tightening around you as if he could somehow protect you from the pain that had already taken root in your heart. “you won’t lose me,” he said finally, his voice firm and full of quiet determination. “i promise you won’t lose me.” there was something in his voice, something so sure, so certain, that it made you want to believe him. and for a moment, you did. you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance you could hold onto this, onto him, without it slipping away.

before you could stop yourself, you turned your head slightly, your eyes meeting his in the dim light of the room. there was a softness in his gaze, a warmth that made your heart ache, and before you knew it, you were leaning in, your lips brushing against his in a tentative, hesitant kiss. the kiss was soft, gentle, and full of blind promises. his lips were warm against yours, his touch careful, as if he was afraid of breaking you. but you didn’t feel fragile, not in that moment. you felt grounded, tethered to something real, something that wasn’t just pain and loss.

jungkook responded slowly, his lips moving against yours with a careful, tender pressure that sent a shiver down your spine. his hand cupped the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a soothing motion as he deepened the kiss just slightly, testing the waters. you kissed him back, your movements slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of him, the feel of him. it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a promise, a silent one that you wouldn’t let the darkness consume you, that you would hold onto this moment, to him, for as long as you could.

when you finally pulled away, your forehead resting against his, you were both breathing heavily, your hearts pounding in unison. his hand remained on your cheek, his touch gentle and reassuring, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt something other than despair. the fear was still there, lurking in the back of your mind, and as much as you wanted to hold onto this moment, you couldn’t shake the nagging doubt that clung to your thoughts.

“i love you, too,” you whispered back. he smiled and, fuck, was it contagious. you found the corners of your lips tilting upward as you returned the smile, allowing him to embrace you in warmth that seemed permanent, even though you knew it wasn't. you knew everything would wither away one way or another, but you couldn't stand another second living in the harsh reality you made your own. so, you let yourself believe. the world had ended, but it didn't mean yours had to.

you woke to a sudden, piercing sound that tore through the heavy silence of the prison, pulling you from the depths of an uneasy sleep. it was an unnatural noise, shrill and relentless, like the world itself was screaming in agony. your heart pounded in your chest, your body jolting upright as you tried to make sense of what was happening. beside you, jungkook was already awake, his eyes wide and alert as he instinctively reached for you, his hand gripping your arm. his touch grounded you, if only for a moment, but the fear in his eyes reflected your own.

“what the hell was that?” hoseok’s voice cut through the chaos, rough with sleep and rising panic. he was across the room, already on his feet, his eyes darting around the dimly lit space as if expecting something to burst through the walls at any moment. “the creatures, have they come?” hani asked, her voice trembling as she clutched at the blanket wrapped around her shoulders, her eyes wide with fear.

you knew that sound wasn’t from them. it was something else, something far worse. your gut twisted with a sense of foreboding, an inexplicable dread that made your skin crawl. a glance out the barred window told you everything you needed to know.

the sky, once a deep, inky black, was now ablaze with a sickly orange glow. it wasn’t the warm, welcoming hue of sunrise, but something far more ominous. the horizon was alive with a creeping, fiery light, like the world itself was being consumed by an inferno. the air was thick with a choking heat, the stench of burning metal and something acrid filling your nostrils. “something’s happening,” you said, your voice low and filled with dread as you turned to face the others. the look in your eyes must have conveyed the gravity of the situation because the panic in the room grew tangible.

before you could even think, a distant, thunderous roar reached your ears, vibrating through the very walls of the prison. it was a sound that chilled you to the bone, a sound that wasn’t just heard, but felt—a deep, resounding tremor that reverberated through the earth, shaking the foundations of the building. then, in the distance, you saw it.

the horizon exploded into a blinding flash of light, a surge of energy that seemed to consume everything in its path. you could see the mushrooming cloud of destruction rising into the sky, towering over the landscape like a monstrous titan. the light was so bright, so intense, that it burned into your retinas, searing the image into your mind even after you squeezed your eyes shut. “get down!” jungkook shouted, his voice barely audible over the deafening roar that followed. it was a command, a desperate plea, but there was no time to think, no time to react.

the blast wave hit the prison like a freight train, a wall of force that slammed into you with brutal, unstoppable power. the air was sucked from your lungs, your body lifted off the ground and thrown back like a ragdoll. the walls shook violently, dust and debris raining down from the ceiling as the very structure of the building groaned in protest. you crashed to the floor, the impact knocking the breath out of you, pain shooting through your limbs as you landed hard. the world around you was a chaotic blur, the sound of shattering glass, crumbling concrete, and the terrified screams of your friends filling your ears. it was like being caught in the eye of a storm, a maelstrom of destruction that was tearing everything apart.

the heat was unbearable, a searing wave that licked at your skin, threatening to consume you. you could feel the shockwave rippling through the building, shaking the ground beneath you, and with it came the unmistakable sound of structural collapse—the groan of metal twisting, the crack of concrete splitting, the rumble of walls buckling under the strain. you tried to move, to crawl, to find some semblance of safety, but your body wouldn’t respond. every inch of you screamed in agony, your head spinning from the impact, your ears ringing from the deafening noise. the air was thick with dust and smoke, choking you, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

jungkook was there, his arms around you, shielding you as best he could as the world fell apart around you. you could feel his heart pounding against your back, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered something—words you couldn’t make out, couldn’t comprehend, but you knew they were meant to comfort, to reassure. but there was no comfort to be found. the prison was falling, crumbling under the force of the blast, the walls and ceilings collapsing in on themselves, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. the sound of metal tearing, of stone splitting, filled the air as the building shuddered and groaned, and you knew it was only a matter of time before everything came crashing down.

a second blast followed, this one closer, the shockwave hitting you with even more force. you were thrown again, your body skidding across the floor as more debris rained down from above. you could hear the others shouting, their voices lost in the cacophony, and then, finally, there was silence—a heavy silence that weighed down on you like a blanket. you didn’t know how long you lay there, gasping for breath, your ears ringing, your body aching with pain. the world was a blur of dust and smoke, the once familiar walls of the prison now a twisted, broken mess of rubble and debris.

when you finally managed to push yourself up, your limbs trembling with the effort, the sight that greeted you was one of utter devastation. the prison was barely standing, the walls crumbling, the roof half-caved in. the once-sturdy structure had been reduced to little more than a shell, a skeleton of what it once was. the air was thick with dust, the smell of burning and decay heavy in your nose.

the others were scattered around the room, some lying motionless, others struggling to move. jungkook was beside you, his face pale and streaked with blood, his eyes wide with shock as he took in the destruction around you.

“what happened?” jimin’s voice was barely more than a whisper, trembling as she clutched at hoseok, who was bleeding from a gash on his forehead. “the nuclear plants,” you said, your voice hoarse, the realization dawning on you with a cold, terrifying certainty. “the cooling water must have evaporated.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and final, as the reality of the situation sank in. the world wasn’t just ending; it was being obliterated, piece by piece, consumed by a fire that couldn’t be stopped. and you were right in the middle of it. you looked around at the faces of your friends, at the fear and despair etched into their features, and you knew that whatever came next, it was going to be worse. there was no escape from this, no way to outrun the destruction that was spreading across the globe like wildfire.

one by one, you helped the others to their feet, offering words of comfort, of reassurance, even though you didn’t fully believe them yourself. the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of your mind, but it was tempered by something stronger—the will to survive, to keep fighting, no matter what. together, you stumbled out of the wreckage of the prison, into a world that was no longer recognizable, a world that had been torn apart by forces beyond your control. the sky was still burning, the air thick with smoke and ash, but you didn’t look back. there was no point.

just as you thought you had found some semblance of footing, another explosion erupted, far closer than before. the world around you seemed to implode in on itself, a monstrous roar of fire and fury swallowing everything in its path. the blast wave hit you with unimaginable force, sending you and jungkook flying backward.

you felt the ground leave you, your body weightless for a moment before crashing down hard. the impact knocked the wind from your lungs, your body racked with pain as you skidded across the debris-strewn ground. the noise was deafening, a cacophony of destruction that drowned out everything else. you barely had time to register the pain before you realized jungkook had been thrown with you. his body collided with yours, and the two of you tumbled together, a tangled mess of limbs and blood.

“jungkook,” you barely managed to rasp his name, your throat raw from the dust and smoke. you tried to move, to reach for him, but your body refused to respond. every nerve screamed in agony, and you could feel the warmth of blood seeping through your clothes, soaking into the earth beneath you. he groaned, a pained sound that sent a spike of fear through your heart. he was right there, just inches away, his eyes wide and unfocused as he struggled to breathe. you could see the blood trickling from a gash on his forehead, could see the way his chest heaved with every ragged breath.

“stay with me,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you reached out, your fingers brushing against his. "jungkook, stay with me." he turned his head toward you, his eyes locking onto yours. there was fear there, yes, but something else too—something that broke your heart even more. it was acceptance. a quiet, resigned acceptance that this was the end.

“i’m here,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the roar of the flames and the crumbling world around you. he tried to smile, a weak, trembling thing that made your heart ache. “i’m right here.” you forced yourself closer to him, every movement sending waves of pain through your battered body. but you didn’t care. all that mattered was getting to him, being with him, even if it was only for a few more moments.

“i’m sorry,” you choked out, tears blurring your vision as you finally reached him, your fingers intertwining with his. his hand was warm, his grip weak but steady. “i’m so sorry, jungkook.”

“shh,” he whispered, his thumb brushing against the back of your hand in a comforting gesture, despite the pain etched across his face. “it’s okay, it’s okay.”

but it wasn’t. it wasn’t okay at all. you could see the light fading from his eyes, could feel the way his grip was loosening, his strength slipping away. you wanted to fight it, to hold on to him, to refuse this cruel fate that was tearing him from you, but there was nothing you could do. the world was ending, and you were powerless to stop it.

“i love you,” he breathed, the words barely more than a whisper as his eyes fluttered closed. “i love you.”

the tears flowed freely now, hot and unchecked as you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “i love you too,” you whispered back, your voice breaking. “i love you so much.” and then, with a final shuddering breath, the life left his body.

“no,” you rasped, your voice raw, filled with a grief so deep it threatened to swallow you whole. you clutched him to you, your arms trembling as you held him close, as if you could somehow keep him here, keep him with you. “no, no, no please, no.” but he was gone. the realization hit you like another blast, a wave of pain and despair that ripped through your very soul. the world around you was crumbling, but all you could feel was the emptiness where he used to be. the world was gone, and so was he.

you didn’t even notice the others until you heard them shouting, their voices barely registering through the haze of grief. they were calling your name, screaming for you to move, to get up, but you couldn’t. you didn’t want to. the world was ending, and you wanted it to take you too. and then, the final blast hit. the world exploded into a blinding white light, a force so powerful it lifted you off the ground once more, tearing you away from jungkook’s lifeless body. you felt the searing heat, the crushing pressure, and then? nothing. darkness.

when you opened your eyes again, the world was still. still, silent and lonely, not a soul to harbor it but yours. the suffocating weight of death and destruction was gone, replaced by a heavy, eerie calm. you tried to move, to lift your head, but the effort felt impossible. every part of your body ached, a deep, bone-deep pain that left you gasping.

the ceiling above you was white, sterile, and familiar in a way that made your heart stutter. the sharp, chemical smell that filled your nostrils brought with it a wave of memories—memories of hospital corridors, of beeping machines, of the steady hum of fluorescent lights. a hospital. you blinked, trying to focus, your mind struggling to catch up with what you were seeing. slowly, your vision cleared, and you realized you were lying on a bed, wrapped in crisp, white sheets. the walls around you were painted in soft, muted tones, the kind designed to soothe, to comfort.

for a moment, you felt a strange sense of peace, a fleeting thought that maybe it had all been a nightmare—that you had simply woken up from a horrible, twisted dream. then, you heard it. you heard it all over again, because the sound was unmistakeable. silence.

✧.*

a/n: this took so long to write actually bye stream cosmic

[your-local-simp-writers]

Star-Crossed Serenity

Word Count: 1024

Warnings: None

Malleus Draconia x Fem!Reader ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

Under the golden afternoon sun, the gardens of the twisted wonderland were a sight to behold. Malleus Draconia, with his imposing figure and regal demeanor, had prepared a surprise for you. As you walked hand in hand, the path opened up to a secluded spot where a picnic was laid out under the shade of a grand, ancient tree.  

“You’ve outdone yourself, Malleus,” you said, admiring the spread of delectable treats and the soft blanket laid upon the lush grass.  

“It is but a simple gesture,” Malleus replied, his emerald eyes softening. “I wanted to share a moment of tranquility with you, away from the chaos of our daily duties.” 

As you both settled down, the world seemed to stand still. The gentle breeze carried the fragrance of blooming flowers, and the only sound was the cheerful chirping of birds. Malleus watched you with a fondness that made your heart flutter, and you knew that this moment would be etched in your memory forever. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the verdant fields of Twisted Wonderland, Malleus Draconia and you found yourselves in a secluded glade, perfect for the intimate picnic he had planned. The grandeur of the Dragon King was evident in every detail, from the fine china plates to the crystal goblets, all laid out on an embroidered cloth that shimmered with threads of silver and gold.

Malleus watched you with an intensity that belied his usual stoic demeanor. “I have longed for this,” he confessed, his voice a deep timbre that resonated with the quiet power of thunder far off. “To be away from prying eyes, to share a moment of simplicity with you.”

You smiled, reaching for a delicate pastry, its flaky layers filled with sweet cream and berries. “And I appreciate every effort you’ve made,” you replied. “It’s not every day that one gets to enjoy such a feast with the heir of the Draconia line.”

He chuckled, a sound as rare as the blooming of the night-blooming cereus, and it warmed you more than the setting sun. “My title means little in the face of your company,” he said. “Here, I am simply Malleus, and you are the one who has captivated my heart.”

The conversation flowed as easily as the wine from the bottle, tales of your respective worlds intertwining like the vines that grew around the ancient tree under which you dined. Malleus was particularly taken with your descriptions of the human realm, his eyes alight with wonder and a touch of wistfulness.

“As much as I yearn to see your world with my own eyes,” he mused, “I fear what my presence would bring upon it. My power is not always… well-received.”

You reached out, placing a reassuring hand over his. “Perhaps one day, we can venture there together. With care, and perhaps a bit of your magic, I believe we could make it work.”

The promise hung in the air between you, as tangible as the magic that Malleus wielded with such ease. It was a promise of future adventures, of shared dreams, and of a bond that transcended realms.

As night fell and the first stars appeared, you lay back on the blanket, Malleus by your side. The constellations above were unfamiliar, yet beautiful in their strangeness. “Tell me about the stars in your world,” Malleus requested, his head turned towards you, his expression open and earnest.

And so you spoke, of constellations and myths, of navigators and explorers who used the stars to find their way. Malleus listened to every word, his hand finding yours, fingers entwining. In that moment, under the celestial tapestry of an otherworldly sky, two hearts from different worlds beat as one.

The night deepened, and the air grew cooler, but the warmth between you and Malleus remained undiminished. Wrapped in a shared blanket, you continued to gaze at the stars, each one a silent witness to the evening’s tender moments.

Malleus’s voice broke the comfortable silence. “In the Draconia-bloodline, there is a legend,” he began, his tone taking on the cadence of a well-told tale, “of two stars, separated by the vast expanse of the sky, yet bound by an invisible thread of fate.”

You turned to him, intrigued. “And what became of them?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“They yearned for each other, across the distance, their light a testament to their longing,” he continued, his hand squeezing yours gently. “Until one day, the thread pulled them together, and they collided in a brilliant display of light and energy, creating a new star, one that outshone all others.”

The metaphor wasn’t lost on you, and you felt a flutter in your chest. “Is that what we are?” you mused. “Two stars drawn together?”

Malleus’s eyes met yours, and in them, you saw the reflection of countless stars. “Perhaps,” he said, “or perhaps we are the creators of a new legend, one that speaks of a dragon and a human, and the love that transcends worlds.”

The conversation shifted then, to dreams and aspirations. Malleus spoke of his hopes for the future, not as a king, but as a man who wished to see the world—not with power and conquest, but with wonder and companionship.

“And you,” he said, turning the focus to you. “What dreams do you harbor within your heart?”

You shared your own visions of the future, some grand, some humble, but all of them painted with the brush of possibility. As you spoke, Malleus listened, his expression one of genuine interest and affection.

The picnic had long since ended, but the connection between you had only grown stronger. As the first light of dawn began to creep across the sky, you and Malleus rose, packing away the remnants of the evening.

“This night may end,” Malleus said as he took your hand, “but our story is far from over. With each new day, we shall write another chapter.”

And with the promise of countless tomorrows stretching out before you, you stepped forward into the light of a new day, the Dragon King by your side.

[ramayantika]

Devi Sita (Goddesses, Rishikas & Women)

Spring had passed away with blooming lotuses, mating birds, and the call of the koel. Sita, who adored Vasanta out of all seasons, had to spend the most romantic season in captivity by the fearsome ruler of Lanka.

Not one day went by when Sita could breathe in peace. After turning down his advances, Ravan, in a thundering voice, ordered Sita to be sent to Ashok Vatika and to be continuously tormented every day, every moment, until her strong will breaks.

The Rakshasa clan is a merciless one. Their females, the Rakshasis, even more. Their ruthlessness and barbaric ways are known to strike terror in the hearts of people, and ascetics have always been troubled by their repeated assaults.

The Rakshasis, as per the orders of their king, spent no moment to torment Sita. From throwing icy cold water to wake the drowsy Sita to butchering meat in front of her, on some days where they wanted to play with Sita’s emotions a little more, they would narrate how Ravan would butcher Ram’s flesh in front of her.

Spring passed into summer. The humid climate of Lanka made Sita perspire immensely. Sweat clung to her skin, and the sun shone brightly on the fair princess, who sat silently under the shade of one of the Ashoka trees, her mind constantly thinking about the whereabouts of Rama and Lakshman. The summers were brutal for Sita. Though she had spent so many years in the deep forests, she did have plenty of fresh fruits and water to nourish herself, unlike her situation in Lanka.

The Rakshasis starved her, dehydrated her to a great extent, and laughed when one fiery afternoon she fainted. Only when the Lankan queen Mandodari arrived to visit Sita did the queen strictly order food and fresh water to be brought to Sita.

If the days were filled with terror and threats, the nights, though spent alone, were filled with nightmares for Sita, who often woke up screaming Rama’s name, only to feel the cold, gusty wind brush her slender flesh and the rocky bed under the tree where she took shelter.

Yet, Sita, despite all her mental and physical wounds, always admired the beauty of Ashok Vatika. The clear lakes filled with exotic blooms and beautiful sculptures in dancing poses reminded her of Ayodhya. Marigold bushes reminded me of Mithila. The serene fragrance of the yellow and orange flowers made her fondly think of the garlands she wore around her arms and feet in Panchvati. Sita rarely smiled in the picturesque garden. She never got the chance to sit there happily, but there were rare moments in the company of the lush trees and flowers, like one day when a few squirrels nuzzled to her and she smiled truly and lovingly at the small, adorable creatures.

But living beings are capable of sympathy and pity, even for a brief moment at least, but pity and compassion do arise in their hearts. It could be out of guilt or maybe an honest realisation of their crude actions, but somehow, compassion comes out, and the stony hearts of the Rakshasis did melt a little with the cold, stormy showers of monsoon in Lanka.

One night, a raging storm blew by Lanka. The howling winds had extinguished the fiery torches that lit the gardens and courtyards of the grand palace. The Rakshasis too ventured inside to take cover while a frail Sita sat beneath the same Ashoka trees, knees huddled together and arms across her chest with chattering teeth as the torrential rains pelted against her lithe body and her surroundings.

One of them, named Ratangi, combed through her wet, curly hair when her eyes fell on Sita. Sita, who with each day appeared thinner, her lustrous and radiant face etched with greyness and dry texture, signs of ill-health and despair, sat with her eyes closed and her dry lips muttering the name of Rama. Though Ratangi and her companions sat afar, they could read the familiar movement of Sita’s lips to decipher Ram’s name.

Ratangi had pointed to another companion and pointed at Sita. The other Rakshasi rubbed her eyes and said, “She is the enemy, but it would be a lie if I said that I don’t admire her resilience. So many months have passed by, with no sign or message sent by her husband, yet she is steadfast in her belief about him. Such immense strength is admirable indeed.”

Ratangi’s eyes softened towards Sita. Her thick, bushy eyebrows came together in a frown as she said, “Don’t you think we should help her? The storm is brutal, and she is already so thin and frail. It will kill her.”

The other Rakshasi nodded at Sita’s condition but questioned, “What about the king’s orders? And if by any chance the princess gets to know that we have helped her, we will be punished.”

Ratangi dryly commented. “The princess enjoys tormenting this poor woman. She derives a sick joy from it.”

The rain mercilessly pelted the concrete grounds of the gardens. Some of the large ornamental trees had been bent down to combat the rain and winds. Ratangi and her companions looked at each other’s faces and then back at Sita, who had started shivering, but not once did her lips stop uttering Rama’s name.

Ratangi got up in desperation. “This woman doesn’t deserve to die in such a pitiful way. I am getting her over here.”

Gathering a straw hat kept against a wall, she quickly leaped to Sita with large strides and picked her up when the familiar sound of anklets made Ratangi halt in her steps.

“Maharani Mandodari.”

Mandodari, the chief queen of Lanka, stood in the harsh, stormy rain without a cover. She looked at the petite Sita in Ratangi’s arms and caressed Sita’s forehead. “We are all going to pay for this sin.”

Ratangi’s eyes lifted back to the queen, who stood with a passive expression on her face. Mandodari simply said, “My husband doesn’t strictly monitor Sita’s health or her lifestyle here. I can’t free Sita, but as a woman, I can make her life a little easier.” Checking for Sita’s pulse, Mandodari continued, “Sita is to be nursed back to health with treatment by our royal physician. None of the Rakshasis are to be engaged in troubling Sita any longer. Do your guard duties, but none of those sick illusions and cruel remarks. I can’t stop Shurpanakha, but make sure that none of the Rakshasis join her to make Sita’s life worse than hell any longer.”

Ratangi and Mandodari walked to bring Sita inside to provide some warmth to her body. “We have performed enough sins that we have the noose of Yama hanging around us. Let’s leave behind some good deeds, at least for the queen of Ayodhya.”

And from that stormy night on, Sita’s life in captivity in the lovely garden of Lanka improved. She was fed the juiciest of fruits, nutritious grains, and pulses, and nobody ever served her murky water to drink. The Rakshasis sometimes gave some of their garments to Sita, who graciously accepted a few of them.

***

“Why are you still hell-bent that your Rama will free you? Don’t you know Ravan has captured so many powerful warriors and hasn’t even spared the gods too?” Ratangi cries out to Sita, who sits as peacefully as a sage immersed in meditation.

“I am not afraid of death, Ratangi, or my husband. I know Rama, but you don’t. He is kind as a dove, but when in rage, he becomes the destroyer himself.”

Some moments ago, Ravan arrived at the garden to threaten Sita to submit to him. “If you don’t submit to me, O Sita! You will meet with terrible destruction at my hands after a month! This very day, a month from now, I shall devour you."

Sita, who had enough of Ravan’s violent and intimidating threats, especially after the cruel incident where Ravan showed the beheaded Rama to Sita to break her mind, silently challenged Ravan’s final warning with a fixed, fiery gaze.

Ratangi and a few other Rakshasis who had grown to like Sita grew terrified at Ravan’s threat. After the Lankan king left the garden, they rushed to Sita and sat around her feet.

The afternoon sun drenches the entire garden in golden light. The large trees cast dark shadows on the ground, but unlike the hot winds of summer that pricked everyone, the cool winter breeze brings a pleasant sensation to Sita and all the other Rakshasis in the garden.

Sita, in her tree bark garments and long cotton scarves, looks at the shimmering water of the lake. The swans bask under the sun, their eyes closed, as if enjoying the warm company of the sun. Sita smiles and keeps a cheek on her eyes as a small smile curves on her lips.

Ratangi, however, finds no peace, unlike Sita. She asks, “How can you sit so calmly? You only have a month to live. You don’t even accept our help to cross you over to your land. Even if Rama and your brother-in-law Lakshman cross the ocean, how will they penetrate the defences of our kingdom?”

Some months ago, Sita would always sit morose. Shurpanakha never left any chance to insult Sita or scare her with brutal images of Rama’s death. But Sita was a courageous princess, a woman with the resolute determination to survive all odds.

‘My Raghunandan will fight even the gods for me. He is my strength, and I am his. He will fight on the battlefield with your king soon and take me away. And my battle is here in this garden, all alone. I keep winning every day, and I know Rama will avenge me soon. Ravan’s pot of sins is overflowing.’

The other guards gasp. Sita calmly, with a brave look in her eyes, looks at no one but the calm lake. Sita’s words were blasphemous!

Ratangi and her companions look at one another. Astounded at Sita’s indomitable spirit, they closed their eyes and prayed to fate, for they seldom believed in the celestials above to bring Sita and Rama together, at least for one last time.

And what’s a king without his loyal people and followers? Ratangi and her companions grew kind and stretched a hand of friendship to Sita, but in battle they would side with their emperor. A sign of true and maybe flawed loyalty in terms of the ‘greater good’.

Nobody speaks a word. Sita no longer looks at the crushed flowers beneath her feet, but her eyes always fall on the loveliest of flowers that bloom in the garden. The cold doesn’t bother her anymore, and she gladly welcomes the sun on her body.

It’s only a matter of time, and like a lion, will my Rama take me away from here?

A chain of events brought about the ominous sign of Lanka’s destruction. Ravan’s soldiers, servants, and all the guards, Rakshasas and Rakshasis, try their level best to douse the fire burning away their kingdom like a raging forest fire.

Ratangi notices the blazing look in Sita’s doe-like eyes and gulps. The entire Ashok Vatika, too, burns. The dry twigs and leaves serve as fuel to let the fire capture everything in its vicinity. Sita stands on the concrete platform, her head high, and for a brief moment, she sees Hanuman leap across the large roofs of the palace with a fiery grey trail in the sky.

Flames surround Sita, and though she has seen endless fires in her nightmares, this time her face bears a glow as radiant as the enormous orange flames around her. She braces the powerful heat emanating from the fire and draws her eyes close once again with her lips, remembering Rama’s name like the chants of a mantra.

Sita’s open hair flying in the strong winds and the fiery radiance of her face make her appear like Devi Durga, and never did Ratangi think about bowing to another woman except the royal ladies of Lanka. Her head bends down automatically in reverence, fear, and awe at Sita.

Ratangi had seen Sita as the delicate doe-like princess when she was brought to Lanka. She saw how Sita was the rightful queen of Ayodhya after displaying her firm grit to survive and to stay stable after months of mental and physical torment, and tonight Ratangi saw Sita look like a powerful goddess of destruction.

She only mutters one statement after witnessing the surrounding flames destroy everything in their wake. “Lanka is doomed.”

--- xxx ---

The last second chapter of my short story collection titled, Goddesses, Rishikas & Women. There are other stories, some that you all have read, and the rest shall be revealed later in the future.

This scene is my imagination of Sita in Ashok Vatika. I hope I could do some justice to Sita's character.

And if you want to find more updates about this book, you can head over to my id: @samridhi.writes for all book updates and excerpts (meko audience bannani hai apni vahan so you all would mean the world to me ���💗💖)

Taglist: @swayamev @jukti-torko-golpo @navaratna @kaal-naagin @alhad-si-simran @houseofbreadpakoda @inexhaustible-sources-of-magic @krishnaaradhika @krsnaradhika @ramcharantitties @krishna-priyatama

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey headmage! You know that one question all teachers will get in their life...

Tell us about your first love!

*eager looking eyes*

I wrote this one in a somewhat vague manner aka it's to throw a bone at the "Crowley is Malleus's dad" theorists out there www; it's up to the reader to interpret it as they please; it isn’t meant to refer to one specific character.

Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.

Crowley regarded you with a careful, uncharacteristically patient look—as if picking apart your soul and the fine layers that sheathed it. You were an open book, so wide-eyed and eager to learn of young, blossoming love.

“Feeling daring today, are we?” he chuckled lowly. “What naughty students I have, sticking their noses where they don't belong."

Crowley swung one leg over the other, crossing them as he reclined into his armchair. "As it happens, I am feeling more generous than usual today, so I will humor your request."

Your ears perked. You arched over his desk, primed to listen intently.

"Once upon a time, in a land far, far away... I found myself at a grand palace hosting a ball. Where, you may ask? I cannot say. However, it is only natural for important people in high places, such as myself, to be invited to these sorts of functions.

“Often it is political matters and power struggles at play—dull subjects to children, I'm sure. I happened to take an interest in the cuisine they were serving that evening, and so I made an appearance."

Crowley paused dramatically.

"Little did I know, that was where I would happen upon... Well, surely you understand who I am referring to?"

“Your first love?” you squeaked.

“I noticed them immediately. Call it ‘love at first sight’ if you wish.

“Their presence was far too powerful to be contained within that room. It was a quiet kind of strength, like the roiling of thunder before a storm arrives in full. Oh, but it wasn’t just their aura alone. No, no, they also boasted great beauty, grace, and intelligence!! And yet…”

“And yet…?”

“They were alone.” Crowley spoke the word quietly, as though it were cursed. “… I suppose it happens. People who stand too high in the world are lonely there, frightening off those unworthy to be in their presence. I understood, of course, being in a similar position myself, so I sought to offer my kind hand to console them. It is in my nature as an educator to serve as a bridge between people."

“You made the first move,” you gasped, your cheeks warming. Scandalous.

“I paraded right up and introduced myself! And—can you believe this—they gave me the cold shoulder, then attempted to scare me and shoo me off!! But I certainly didn’t quit. I fetched them punch, I sang them sweet serenades, I cracked jokes of the highest caliber… all so that they would look my way, even to spare a passing glance.”

“So you were a simp.” Somehow, it fit perfectly with your current understanding of Crowley.

He bristled at the casual accusation. "I wouldn't say that--"

"Definitely a simp," you repeated.

"Y-You may think whatever you like, but the fact is that my efforts eventually bore fruit!!" Crowley declared proudly, his chest puffed out. "They gazed at me and remarked that I was ' a strange one'!"

"That doesn't exactly sound like a compliment..."

"Perhaps not," he laughed lightly, "but it was that one comment that served as my foot in the door. Before long, we were chatting like old friends. They smiled--because of me. For me."

His voice warbled, wobbling with sentiment as the painted the scene. You could almost see it now: Crowley, tall, dark, handsome--but bumbling--courting a frigid noble. Breaking their barrier, melting that ice.

Like something out of a fairy tale, you think. A distant royal falling in love with their messenger bird.

"We laughed and talked all evening. We shared food and a dance. We never wanted the clock to strike midnight."

Crowley sighed wistfully, dragging a talon across his desk—as if marking another year apart from his beloved. "They truly were… the apple of my eye, my flower of evil."

"Did they return your feelings, headmaster?" you asked, leaning closer. Completely enraptured by his tale. “Whatever happened to them, anyway…?"

“Ah, now that,” Crowley tutted, wagging a finger, “is a story I shall keep to myself.”

“W-Wait," you protested, slapping a hand on the desk, "you’re really going to leave me off on a cliffhanger like this?! You were just getting to the juiciest part!"

“I believe I’ve already divulged far more than the average student needs to know of a teacher's love life," the headmaster replied. "You may use your imagination to fill in the rest of the gaps! It shouldn't be a challenge, seeing as you are quite familiar with my charm, fufufu."

"Does that mean you did get together after all? Were you actually married this whole time and we never knew? Do you have kids?!" you pressed. Each question became increasingly conspiratorial--but you were 100% serious, 100% committed to the bid.

"I'm afraid not, Prefect! You must make do with what you currently have."

"What I have isn’t enough," you groaned deeply. "Urgh, PLEASE answer me, headmaster...! I need to know, or I'll combust!"

[kaihuntrr]

The Sea Prince; Hide & Seek

I don’t think you should look behind you, Lizzie.

The sea was dangerous. 

It was no place for a human.

Sheer cold winds howled as the waves crashed against each other. The sky was pitch black, only illuminated by the bright crash of lightning overhead. The torrential rain pelted the ocean around her, driving the waves higher and making it harder to see. Warring sounds of nature were the only thing the survivor could hear as she kept as still as possible, clinging to floating pieces of driftwood and debris to hide her frail body from the terrors of the deep. 

The survivor was drenched in water, barely breathing as she pressed her body down against the wooden planks as she tried to make herself smaller than she already was. She shivered, the freezing air surrounded her. Thunder rumbled overhead, and her blue eyes narrowed as she adjusted her blurry vision from the chaos around her. She shouldn’t be here. She should be on the island with her friends. She should be safe. She was supposed to be safe. The survivor took in deep breaths, her hands covering her head as she tried her best not to scream in fear. 

Don’t let them find you.

A blinding flash of lightning struck the sinking, burning vessel in front of her. What was once the ship that she and her parents had boarded was now nothing more than a wooden plaything for those monsters. She strained her ears, listening for any screeches or roars that bellowed from the deep, but there were none. Only then did she dare to move. 

She couldn’t believe this was happening. Her eyes were glued to the destroyed ship, the only thing left that provided her a sick sense of relief. It was a reminder of how lonely she was. She hated being alone. She moved the messy pink hair away from her face as tears began to form. Her fingers ran pulled at her hair as her breathing quickened and her vision blurred. 

She could feel her heart pounding out of her chest and her stomach twisted in pain as her head hit the wood below her. She had to be strong. Her parents told her to be strong. She had to be. She was the unshakable Elizabeth Shadow, inheritor of the Shadow Pearl corporation, nothing should scare her. Nothing should scare her. She was a big girl. Big girls shouldn’t panic. This should all be over soon. 

How did this all happen? Just a few hours ago all she saw was the clear, sunny sky and peaceful waves. Lizzie closed her eyes as she took in another deep breath, casting her mind back to the once-calm waves and breezy chill that danced across the ships. She needed to calm down. 

Breathe in. Breathe out.

—————

The skies overhead were a beautiful baby blue, lazily hung with small specks of clouds and filled with the songs of migratory birds that passed by. How these birds flew across these long patches of ocean was baffling to her. Lizzie stood on the upper deck of a grand cruise ship, watching the birds fly in the distance. Her hands against the railing as the salty sea air blew through her hair as she cherished the view of the ocean. The ship was a fine white vessel used for transportation and leisure. It had several polished wooden floors with different levels to accommodate all the people on board. The ship rumbled with the vibrations of big engines propelling forward. The ship’s hull was lined in the typical metal plating meant to defend the ship from the sea monsters infesting the ocean. 

It was hard to believe this place was as scary as all the stories her friends had told her. She heard lots of stories of dangerous sea monsters, and while she did fear them as any kid did, the sea didn’t look like what she pictured in her mind. It was just a big pond filled with fish enough to feed the entire human race, all animalkind even! Ponds aren’t scary.

There was no storm. There were no tall sharp rocks to destroy ships. There was not even a hint of mist! Most importantly, there aren’t any vicious monsters coming for their ship. She didn’t think there would be any monster coming close to her ship. With their ship being a transportation boat, they were protected by several hunting ships that formed a circle around the big boat. No monsters would attack them, they’d be fine.

Hunters, Lizzie knew of the profession through Grian. His parents were hunters; trained and ready to kill any sea monster that comes their way. Grian described their ships as being covered in big weaponry and parts of the monsters they killed as trophies. Lizzie stared at the metal walls covered in spikes and harder material, showing some dents and bitemarks as they stuck to the passenger ship’s side. The hunter ships all had huge sails to carry them across the waters and an engine for a speedy getaway, all for the safety of fellow humans. 

Lizzie stared at the hunters’ ships as Grian’s words echoed through her mind. His parents were no longer in this world, but Grian was still excited about becoming a hunter. 

Lizzie could see the passion in Grian’s eyes as he spoke about hunting, full of wonder and amazement as he recollected what his birth parents had told him. Her friends all had different thoughts about hunters. She asked Martyn what being a hunter was like, given he was already training to be one, and he gave her a huge grin as he answered her: It was awesome.

 She remembered the look on Grian’s face as Martyn recounted all the cool tricks his parents had taught him, the sour expression on his face was priceless. He’d said, “How come you get to do all of that? Why can’t I?”

Lizzie visualized Martyn’s cocky smirk as he rustled with Grian’s hair, “That’s because my parents are actual hunters! Yours are smarty-pants hunters, you don’t do these sorts of stuff!”

When she asked Jimmy if he wanted to be a hunter too, his eyes had gotten big and he’d shook his head, “No way! That’s too much for me. I’d rather do what Mum and Dad do, it’s more my speed.”

Lizzie could practically hear the loud laugh Joel made when Jimmy had said that, causing a light chuckle to slip out of her. Joel had wrapped an arm around his taller brother, rolling his eyes, “He’s way too scared to do it. He thinks a monster is gonna come up to eat him or something. We’ll save him though!”

The memory of their shared laughter warmed her heart. She was excited to see them again.

Lizzie and her parents were on their way to meet with her friends and their parents, the adults planning on talking about some sort of deal she didn’t fully grasp yet. Eh, that was adult talk, she didn’t care for it. She wanted to be there to see her friends. 

Lizzie walked along the upper deck, one hand tracing the railing as she stared outward, passing small waves at hunters when they looked her way, smiling and laughing. She heard two voices up ahead, discussing something. There was nothing for her to do there other than to watch the ships go by, so Lizzie abruptly stopped walking to listen in. Two people were leaning by the wall, and to not look like she was eavesdropping Lizzie walked past them and ducked behind the wall. They wouldn’t notice her.

The two people were in a hushed conversation, one figure leaning towards the other as they spoke. It didn't seem to register to either stranger how loud they were being with their whispers. One of the voices was more frantic in their speech, stuttering, “What if they find us?” 

The other voice chuckled, soft thuds indicated they were patting their friend’s shoulder as they sighed, “They won’t. They’re not real.” 

What wasn’t real? 

The first voice spoke up again, their tone unchanging, “B-But they are! If not them, then–” 

The second voice sighed loudly, raising their voice and cutting the other off, “Then nothing, my friend. If monsters try to approach we’ll be protected.” 

The first voice spoke up again, much more quietly and less frantic. It didn’t seem like they were arguing anymore, “It’s not them I’m worried about, it’s–” If they weren’t arguing, Lizzie wanted to know why the first one was so scared.

The second one spoke up again, their tone in a low hiss, “The sea princes don’t exist, mate. They’re fairytales.”

Sea princes? Weren’t those the stories Grian and Martyn used to tell her? Her thoughts were interrupted as a low growl of thunder rumbled above, dark clouds began to form. Uh oh. Best to go downstairs with her parents. She didn’t want to get hit by the rain. Rain was scary. 

Her mind wandered back to the sea princes as she walked to her parents’ room, getting as far from the rain as possible. It was a popular story. As far as she knew, the sea princes were these big and ugly creatures who towered over all of the sea monsters. Mermaids fought them, which made Lizzie interested in the myths.

Lizzie walked down the staircase leading her down to her room. Which one was it? The third floor. It should be there. 

She shook her head, coming back to her thoughts. Mermaids, right. 

Mermaids were a beautiful mix of human and fish, guarding humanity from the evil sea princes as their sworn enemy. People sometimes caught sight of them as they stood on the edge of port towns or sailed on big ships. Lizzie gasped in realization. Big ships just like this one! Maybe she’d get to see a mermaid! Stories said seeing one was a blessing. It would be a magical moment for her to meet one on her very first ship ride!

The other thing was the treasures. The way Martyn described them made them sound so cool. There were ancient totems that could defy death, apples made of pure gold, even tomes and texts that could turn people into gods. Supposedly all those treasures existed somewhere in the ocean, surely giving anyone thoughts of what powers they could have with it. People could live forever, talk to fishes, make plants grow, anything was possible!

Lizzie visualized finding one of the treasures, a great and shiny orb that turned her into an axolotl mermaid queen that could fight off all sorts of danger to protect her friends. To her, it didn’t sound outlandish at all, it sounded cool. A lot of people wanted to find sea prince treasures, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to find it too. All sorts of cool things could be under the ocean, they just needed to look. 

Lizzie peered through a big wall of glass looking in on one of the lower floors. She saw plenty of people sitting on couches and talking. Some of them were noticeably hunters, looking out towards the open sea with weapons hung on their belts and scars marked on their bodies. 

They were fine, they were safe. That one person from earlier was wrong, they were protected from whatever danger came their way. 

She turned away, continuing down the stairs and into the hallways, pulling out a key with a tag of her room number. Three-four-one. It was somewhere down the corridor. She looked at each of the plates by the doors before stopping at one. Three-four-one, that was it! Lizzie inserted the key into the keyhole and unlocked the door. She greeted her parents with a smile, “I’m back!”

Lizzie’s father turned and grinned, crouching as his daughter ran up to give him a hug, “How was your little exploration? Find anything cool?” She looked at him with her big eyes, shaking her head. 

The room was spacious, but maybe it was because she was still so small, her parents looked big in the room. They didn’t seem to fit on the bed together, as Lizzie remembered her father offering to sleep on the couch. At the end of the room was a window overlooking the sea, a big bed, and a couch beside it. There was a small sitting area with a couple of bookshelves and complimentary snacks left with a desk. The door to the bathroom was next to the entrance of the room, with a closet off to the side. 

Lizzie sat on the couch, swinging her feet, “Nothing much! I did hear two big kids talk about the sea princes though.” 

Her mother looked up from the bed, closing the book she was reading as her husband sat beside her. The couple shared an amused glance, smiling at each other before looking at their child. Her mother tilted her head, “And you don’t look scared at all! What a big girl you are, Lizzie.” Lizzie giggled, her feet kicking faster. 

Her father sighed loudly, striking a dramatic pose, “Honey, she’s getting so old! We’re getting old!” 

Her mother laughed, rolling her eyes, “Ay, that we are. She’s brave enough to be out on her own, exploring the ship and reporting her findings. I remember how scared you were when we first told you about them,” she sighed, glancing to the side as she chuckled, “You’re growing up so fast.” 

Lizzie stuck her tongue out, furrowing her eyebrows, “But I don’t wanna be old yet! I still–”

Loud, piercing bells began to ring in the distance as the ship made a loud creaking noise and nearly went sideways with a sudden push, sending them sprawling. Lizzie gripped the bed as her parents reoriented themselves. Lizzie’s father approached the window and stuck his head out as her mother motioned for her to come to her. Lizzie shifted on the bed. She didn’t want to move, she just got there! The bed felt comfortable.

Lizzie could hear a low trilling sound from the open window, echoing as glass windows began to crack. The noise vibrated the ship. The bells continued to ring as voices of the hunters rang through the air. There were loads of hunters around the ship. She should be fine. They all should be fine. 

Her father shut the window, turning to his wife and child. His eyes were wide, but he tried to stabilize his breathing, “We have to leave. Now.” 

Her mother nodded as she shot out of bed and hastily gathered her things. Lizzie sat on the bed, shifting around as her parents paced around the room in haste. “Why do we need to leave?” she questioned, “The hunters should be able to stop the monsters!” That was their job, wasn’t it? There were four hunting ships in the area, they should be enough. 

It didn’t stop her father from continuing, “I know they will, but we also need to be protected. We have to stay safe.” 

The waves continued to jostle the ship, the gentle swaying became harsher as some kind of noise escaped from the ocean. Lizzie could hear the muffled sounds of the hunters firing their weapons, but there was no sound of a creature getting hurt. Lizzie’s eyebrows furrowed, “But the hunters–” 

Her mother was the one to cut in this time, carrying bags with some of their clothes hanging loosely out of the top, “Lizzie, no buts. You’re a big girl, but even big girls get scared when the threat is very real.” 

No. Big kids don’t get scared. She won’t be scared. Stories about sea monsters used to frighten her, but not anymore. She’d be brave. 

Lizzie hit her fist against the cushiony bed. Her voice rose as she firmly declared, “I’m not scared!” The light from the window had cut off before either of her parents could say anything in return, tossing the family into the pitch black darkness. 

Lizzie saw her parents walking backwards in fear, staring at the window. Their faces were pale and their eyes widened as they took shaky steps. She watched her parents’ breathing quicken as they sank to their knees. Lizzie cocked her head, raising an eyebrow with a frown, “What’s wrong?” 

Her parents didn’t look at her, staring at the window instead, but her mother spoke, “Lizzie. Walk to us, slowly.” Lizzie had the gut feeling to turn back. She shifted her body, starting to turn, but her mother caught on. “Don’t look behind you. Look at us. Me.” Why not look behind her? What could possibly– another monstrous trill resonated in the air, shaking the ground.

Something was blocking the window. 

Now her mother was staring right at Lizzie, her eyes wide as her breathing became loud and uneven. Lizzie got off the bed, slowly taking small steps before her mother took one second to glance back at the window. 

Lizzie looked behind her.

An eye. A huge one. The white of the eye was a pitch black abyss with a piercing orange and blue iris staring directly at them. The creature’s pupil was large and ice white. A sound emitted from its throat as it rumbled through the structure of the ship. Lizzie could feel it shake the floor beneath her feet, her body shook along with it. 

Time seemed to stop around them as they were locked in a staring match with a monster that could so easily tear them apart. Lizzie’s body shook, her heart was pounding out of her chest as she shakily took a step backwards, away from the eye. The eye moved along with her, as if following Lizzie’s every movement. 

The eye moved in closer as the ship began to tilt. Lizzie and her parents lost their footing, sliding across the floor and hitting the door as the creature made another low trill before a sudden shriek, distant from the ship, broke the air of silence. The white pupil suddenly narrowed into a slit as the massive monster produced an unholy roar that shattered the window. 

The creaking wood of the ship crumbled and cracked, metal bending and twisting before snapping open as water rushed in. Horrified screams and gasps came from the other rooms and were drowned out as the echoing trill resounded through the deep. Lizzie’s parents grabbed her and swam out through the shattered window. The beast was no longer in sight.

Lizzie learned an important thing that day; she didn’t know how to swim. 

Don’t panic. Panicking will make things worse. 

Lizzie could feel her mother’s arm wrap around her, hurriedly placed on a wooden door. Lizzie’s heart pounded out of her chest. Her parents were there, close to her. They weren’t on the door like she was.

Everything became a blur after. 

Rain started to pour. Hunters screamed in fear, “What is that thing?!” before their ships snapped open and bodies fell into the salty sea water below. 

There were people in the water. So many people were in the water. 

Thunder and lightning raged in the sky as the creature’s long tail pierced out of the water from time to time, slowly but surely circling around them. Lizzie didn’t know where the ship was; she’d lost her parents. They’d become separated as chunks of different ships had begun to scatter and crash into the water as two different beasts roared and shrieked. 

Lizzie could hear her parents call out to her. She flailed her arms, “Mom?! Dad?! Where are you?!” She looked around her surroundings in hopes of finding them. Please. She needed to see them again. She looked at the direction she had heard her parents. Where were–

The monster let out a bellowing roar, rattling the water as a gigantic red fin shot up from the depths swiftly knocked Lizzie into the water as it swam past. She was disoriented– where were her parents? She called out to them again. She needed to find them.

“Mom?! Dad?!”

She couldn’t hear their voices anymore.

Lizzie didn’t know where to go. She flailed her arms aimlessly while the cold waters tried to consume her, eventually finding something to desperately latch onto as she struggled to remain afloat. She remembered she had grabbed a wooden wall and stuck to it for dear life. More and more voices were drowned out by the rain. The only thing she could hear over the sound of the burning ships and the angry weather were the monsters. She prayed to whatever god was out there to spare her. She didn’t want to die.

The monsters disappeared, but not for long. They were coming back for her, weren’t they?

Lizzie had been able to wedge herself between two pieces of debris to hide. The monsters didn’t seem to have noticed her. The waves that used to crash against her only pushed her slightly. Lizzie looked up to see the long finned tail of the creatures sink below. 

Why had it been staring at her? Her parents? Was it some kind of sick game? She did not want to play. 

She was alone. 

Everything had been fine until now. Maybe if she never boarded the ship, her parents would be okay. She wanted them here with her. Maybe it was better if her friends visited her instead of the other way around. 

The waves rocked her shelter, as if trying to calm her down. It wasn’t working. 

Lizzie looked up from the piece of wooden wall beneath her, her vision blurry with tears, and saw a lot of the floating debris moving in the same direction. Lizzie wiped the tears away from her eyes as she tried to focus. The… the debris weren’t moving because of the waves. They were moving because the creature was circling them! Lizzie covered her mouth from screaming as a small vortex was created, her head becoming light as she heard the beast roar. 

Stay calm. Inhale. Exhale. 

The spinning got faster, making Lizzie want to puke, but the motions came to an abrupt stop as she was gathered with the other floating debris. Her eyes widened as she heard other people crying out in fear. She wasn’t the only one! There were others who were still alive!

The rain made it hard to see the looming figure rising out of the water before her. She saw faint hints of blue, its chest had stripes of other colors glowed faintly in the darkness. Lizzie heard shouts over the ocean, but the storm and the crashing waves swallowed the noise. She heard a rumble in the water before a second figure appeared, something blurry white and red bursting up. The other beast. There was another one.

What if they were looking for her? 

Lizzie could hear the beasts ‘speak’, grunts and guttural echoes boomed above, she wished she could shut her eyes but they were fixed on the monsters. She didn’t even have a clear look at either one, just knowing one of them was red and the other was blue. She heard something rise from the water as the terrified shrieks of the other people filled the air between rolls of thunder, “P-Please! Spare us! We have families– children to come home to!” 

Lizzie heard a loud crash of water, likely the monster was angry at their response. Did they even understand human speech? She didn’t need to worry about that. 

The air hung silent as thunder echoed. One of the humans began to speak, “Y-Your eye… we apologize for–” The red beast growled. Its sounds were different from the blue one, a rumbling echo instead of a rattling thrill, yet carried the same booming volume. Its tail swished, jostling Lizzie’s hiding spot, unknowingly giving her a better view of the creatures. 

One of the beasts was covered in shiny, golden spikes. Its tail was armored, red with a blue-green tail fin. The other beast’s tail was blue with colorful splotches, its fins were a red sunset-like hue with patterns of flickering stars. She couldn’t see the end of its tail, likely underwater. 

Something that stuck out to her weren’t the colors or the shape of their tails though.

She could be seeing things, but they looked human.

The blue one’s colorful stripes almost looked like tattoos along its back, Lizzie could see red fins coming from its head and she swore it had long teal hair. The red one had pearlescent white hair with brown streaks coming from it, unable to see much else other than that.

Why did they look human?

The men’s screams were tossed upward, the beasts thrashing and moving the debris, along with Lizzie, around. She swore the beasts were laughing, their bellowing unholy roars boomed as Lizzie braced for something. Anything. She was expecting the monsters to end it, to just kill them and leave. 

Yet…

“HUNTERS…” 

Lizzie shut her eyes. There was no way this was real. She had to be dreaming. This was just one bad dream, right?

“...DON’T BELONG HERE.”

It spoke.

Those were human words.

No ordinary beast can just talk, right?

This was all a bad dream. Lizzie just needed to wake up. She covered her ears, blocking out the dozens of screams as they were silenced by the sound of jaws snapping. Her heart began pounding and with one final crash of lightning, she shut her eyes for a long, long time.

—————

“Lizzie?” 

Where was she?

“Lizzie, wake up.” 

Was she dead?

“Are you okay?”

Are her parents alive?

“Lizzie, are you there?” 

Was she back home?

“Please. Wake up, Lizzie.”

…Those were her friends calling her, weren’t they? 

Lizzie shot up, breathing heavily as she grasped her chest. This wasn’t the ocean. It was bright and sunny. She could hear birdsong outside and the gentle brush of leaves against the wind. Sunlight filtered through the window behind her, looking around, she could see the expressions her friends were giving her. 

Joel was right beside Lizzie, clenching his fists with hunched shoulders, his eyes glued on her. Jimmy was on the other side, one of his hands held onto his head, gripping his blonde hair as he leaned over. Grian was beside Jimmy, his wide eyes stared at her as his eyebrows furrowed, biting his lip. 

They were here. She was here with them. Her parents. 

Lizzie took in a deep breath, “Where are my parents?” 

The three brothers shared a glance, exchanging mini expressions until Joel nodded, placing his hand on the bed as an offering. Lizzie placed her hand on top of his. Joel glanced at the floor as he sighed, “They’re… they’re.. How do I phrase this?” Joel’s eyes couldn’t meet hers. They were what? What happened? 

Lizzie glanced at Grian and Jimmy, who kept their heads low. Why was everyone acting so weird? Lizzie’s grip on Joel tightened as an air of silence washed over them. 

“Everyone was-.” 

His voice trailed off. Silence. If it weren’t for the birdsong outside, the silence would have been deafening. He didn’t finish his sentence. That only meant one thing, right? They were gone. Dead. Not in this world anymore. The last thing she did was be a disobedient child. She was the worst. Lizzie felt tears begin to well up in her eyes, her hands covered her face as she screamed. She screamed so loudly the brothers flinched, Lizzie’s chest heaving as she sobbed.

She wanted her parents.

She needed her parents.

This wasn’t fair.

Lizzie’s hands slumped on her sides as she laid on the bed. This can’t be real. She felt Joel hold her hand as he looked at her.

Joel rubbed his thumb over Lizzie’s hand as she gripped it tight. “But you survived. It’s… a lot to take in, but I promise, we’ll be there for you.” Joel looked back at her with a smile, tilting his head. 

Grian stood up from his chair, slamming his hands on the sheets, “We’ll find out what beast did it, and tear its heart out!” Grian’s enthusiasm for being a hunter was strong, surprising her now with how intense his gaze was, affirming his resolve. Maybe it was because his birth parents died, he felt something new towards Lizzie. She decided not to think about it. 

Jimmy placed a hand on her shoulder, “You need time to calm down, Liz. However long it takes, we’ll be there.” Jimmy was always the butt of the joke, always made dumb little quips, but he was an amazing friend. She was glad she met all of them. They were her best friends. She couldn’t imagine facing life without them. All of them.

Lizzie smiled, looking at all three as tears formed in her eyes, not of sadness, but relief, “...Thank you.” 

—————

She never did find out what beasts took her parents that day, but she would learn it eventually. Lizzie breathed the fresh salty air, it was just as she remembered. The waves rippled past the ship, birds called in the open air. All she needed now was time. Time to recover, time to heal. Time to figure out the rest of her life. She held the steering wheel firmly as she exhaled, closing her eyes. She felt a tap on her shoulder, and opened her eyes to see Joel with his hand on her shoulder, their engagement ring glistening in the sunlight.

Lizzie raised an eyebrow, “Any attacks before we charter home?” She could see a glint in Joel’s eyes as he smirked.

Joel took his hand off of Lizzie’s shoulder and shoved it into his pocket, “Maybe. Let’s have one last hurrah before we head home, sounds good?” The mischievousness in his eyes faded as he tilted his head. Lizzie adored how much he cared about her. She’d be fine. She felt reassured with everyone on board supporting her recovery. She gave Joel a small kiss on the lips.

“Aye, captain. Love you.”

But maybe, maybe it was better to leave some mysteries unsolved.

[whatiwishfanfiction]

Chapter 13 is up! (Millionth Thneed Party)

The millionth Thneed party was another beat that would've been interesting to focus on if the movie didn't waste time on Ted. I can't believe there are only a few more chapters left to post now!

Excerpt:

There was another orange flash. Now he was sure he'd seen it. The Lorax was throwing a fit. "Close the drapes on all the windows." He stopped a servant. "It's taking away from the show on the ceiling."

While he'd been lost in thought, Once-ler's Ma was busy orchestrating the next highlight of the evening. She had insisted on this, claiming it would add a touch of whimsy to the grand event.

"Laaaaaadies aaaaaand geeeeeentlemen!" her loud voice boomed through a microphone, cutting through the chatter as the music fizzled out. "May I have your attention, please!"

Faces turned towards the menagerie that she stood in front of, wearing a pink, fluffy gown and beaming with pride. Behind her, in a large glass tank, were more humming-fish. Their scales gave way to multicolored sheens under the bright lights, but they were clustered towards the back of the tank, their large eyes darting around the room.

"We have a special treat for you tonight," she went on. "Tonight these little beauties--straight from the heart of the forest--are going to serenade us with a grand song!"

Polite applause rippled through the audience, though many guests still appeared more interested in their conversations and cocktails. Once-ler's Ma signaled to a technician, who turned a dial on the sound system. Soft, enchanting music began to play, and the humming-fishes' voices were, one by one, slowly drawn into the tune with quavering but rich intonations.

Air fol-la-lull derry dum toor-a-lie-ay

Rrye-dum diddledum darruhdum

Troll, fol-de- roll, troll, fol-de- roll

The haunting sound filled the room, with echoes that could only be described as capturing the very essence of the valley. In less than ten seconds, the previously bored faces had all turned towards the tank, conversation dying on their lips.

Oh--Oo--Oh--Oo--Oh--Oo

Oloho, oloho, oloho, oloho

Whack whack, lady lady lie

The music sounded like the wind through the trees, the ripple of water, and birdsong mixed together with something else that was ancient and indescribable.

Once-ler knew from being a musician how hard it was to get people to pay attention to even his most beautiful songs, and animals usually flat out ran away. Barn cats dived for cover, mules twitched their ears in irritation, and birds flew off--to ordinary animals, even man's most sophisticated music held no appeal. However, when the fish started their underwater opera, the world itself paused to listen with rapt attention.

All other noise stopped, including the ticking of clocks and background noise of the river. The air was respectfully still, and the stars outside the window could be seen ceasing to twinkle with baited breath just before the servant closed the curtains.

Only then did Once-ler realize, as a shiver crept down his spine and tears slid unprompted down his face, that the world had never been deaf--it simply needed to hear a performance in the right key. A key that one could only hit, apparently, if they were a particular type of fish.

"Isn't it just marvelous?" his Ma cooed into the microphone when there was a break in the rhythm, and the crowd clapped. "Aren't they just the most delightful little creatures?"

Once-ler frowned. Something about the song had changed, and the spell was breaking. The fishes' voices were wavering as their eyes dilated at the thunderous applause. He could see they were in distress, but his Ma was oblivious, giving the aquarium a little shake to jolt them back into song. She turned to the crowd again, encouraging them to applaud louder.

The guests whistled and shouted for more. The humming-fish were gasping now, turning a grayish hue. Their notes came out in rasping croaks:

Air... air... loll-dee-daa

Yay-dee, lay-dee... oh...

Ahhhh!

Once-ler stepped forward, but his Ma shot him a sharp look.

Before he could do anything else, the lights flickered, and the temperature dropped with an icy blast. The guests glanced around, crying out as some of them dropped their drinks. The music from the speakers warbled and then cut out entirely, leaving silence in its wake.

After a moment of stunned confusion, a glaring orange glow filled the ballroom. The humming-fish stopped any painful attempt to sing, raising their eyes to the spector. The silhouette of the Truffula Valley's guardian materialized in the center of the room, shimmering with bright light.

Once-ler's Ma dropped the microphone, and bumped into the tank as she jerked back. The crowd gasped and looked around, unsure of what was happening.

The guardian's saw-dusty voice rang out, mightier than the rush of the river. "You've gone too far, Once-ler, it's clear. Now greed is going to bring you to tears. You've shown no regard for the lives you’ve disrupted. You've taken nature's beauty for something corrupted. You've taken the wonder for your own gain. Now you will suffer consequences and pain!"

The ghostly Lorax's eyes locked onto Once-ler’s as he stood paralyzed with guilt and fear. "Greed has brought you to this moment. It's time to face your mistake and own it."

As the orange phantom raised its hands, the glass tank holding the humming-fish shattered, and water poured out and soaking the ballroom floor. The grand fountain began to tremble and crack, and the ornate structure burst apart, sending a torrent of water to flood the room.

Guests screamed and scrambled to escape the rising water. Norma's curly hair was drenched and straightened. Mcbean dived under a table, only to be washed out again with his cigar put out. Once-ler stumbled, trying to regain his footing as the water surged around him, suddenly waist high. The Lorax's voice boomed above the chaos with a final damnation: "Your greed will drown you in the end! As the river should have before this happened!"

With that, the ghostly spirit vanished, leaving the ballroom in disarray. There was a loud CRACK and Once-ler fell backwards into the water.

[hatsue-exe]

snooze | rayleigh x fem!reader

summary: small bits of a relationship with the dark king, kinda of reader as shakky? 15/20 year age gap, ray and reader met after the roger pirates disbanded.

wc: 0.9k | cw: none

Being with Rayleigh is, surprisingly, refreshing.

He's great company, quiet and comforting most of the time, but also the easiest person to make conversation with, someone you could have actual discussions with that didn't turn into fights. And he's good. A good man, with a strong moral compass and sense of justice; a good lover, with a sweet tongue and the most attentive eyes, doing your body like nobody could.

Most of all, he's good for you. Silvers Rayleigh is an early bird, and waking up to fresh coffee with him made you enjoy mornings a bit more. He's organised and keeps you in line with him, you haven't missed a laundry day or slept with dishes dirty, and people were apparently right when they said your mood reflects your space. He's loyal, in his own way — you know he goes away for a while, sometimes you do too, but you can always come back to each other. There's never doubt that someone better will come along, no bittersweetness in your goodbye kisses. You part with a "see you, darling" and come back to the same welcome you'd give the other if you had just gone to get food on the next island. 

He's lighthearted, bantering with you while doing your hair. Brushing it, braiding it, you call it, he's got it. 

"I'm retired, love, we have all the time in the Grand Line."

"I'm aware, old man, just want to be sure you know what you're getting yourself into."

"Oh now I'm old? Cause last night I was…"

"Ray!"

His laugh thunders through his chest. It makes you laugh too.

On summer nights, he'd take you to look at the sky, teaching you little navigation secrets he learned in his time on the sea. Never in a cocky way, showing off how much he knows or belittling your knowledge. He was just stating facts, sharing things he loved and many times missed so dearly, still not used to the idea of not having them, and you were wise enough to learn from it.

Being with him made you a better version of yourself, even through the uncertainties.

"I'm not sure I like who I am, or even know who that is in the first place.", you whispered, back against his chest while you watched the moonlight and the waves.

"When people ask me about Roger, I never know what to say. He was just so… Himself. He was a great friend, the king of pirates, the worst singer I've ever heard. But those things always seemed to be parts of him, not what defined him. Maybe you're trying to put a finger on something none of us will ever be able to."

"I'm not sure I follow."

"You, for once. When I look at you, I see someone with so much passion, who thinks she has to be everywhere all at once. I see my insane lover who decided to waste her youth with an older man like me. Even if I could list all the things that are a part of you, when someone asked me about you, all of them would not be enough. I believe we're a bit more than just what meets the eye, that's all."

You digested his words while he took a sip of sake, putting his arm around your waist to pull you closer.

"It's a nice thought. How do I like this thing I don't see, then?"

"I've no idea. I just woke up one day and knew."

"That you like who you are?"

He smiled, kissing your forehead. "That I love you."

You had ups and downs, sure, but it was never devastating, voices were never raised. Sometimes you both needed a bit of space to cool off, although it never got in the way of the immense respect and care you had for each other. In the rare occurrence tears got to your eyes, Rayleigh would stop and apologise, hugging you tight and not letting go.

"I'm sorry, my love, I'm sorry."

"It's 'kay. I'm sorry too. And I love you." You sniffled a bit, his warm hold comforting, home.

"Love you so much."

Being with Rayleigh was a constant surprise.

"Ray, why are you looking at me like that?" you asked him, your sweaty bodies tangled under the sheets. "I know I'm great at it, but compose yourself."

He half chuckled, pulling you closer.

"I agree. However, I was thinking about something else."

"Enlighten me."

"How do you feel about marriage?"

"In general? Doesn't seem like a great idea. Seen many, most were shit. But you know what? When I think of you, of us, I'm willing to take a shot."

"Good to know."

Rayleigh pulled you to him again, kissing you, covering your body with his, and you knew you'd get very little sleep.

Now, many years later, from behind the counter, you couldn't quite see your husband's face as he talked to an excited black haired, straw hat wearing boy, but you could still tell by his voice what lines were popping up around his eyes, what hand gestures he was making. You loved him differently and all the same. It was still refreshing, however, you found a better word.

Being with Rayleigh was a blessing. And when he looks over his shoulder and smiles at you, you know he thinks so too. 

i got a bit philosophical with this one. been thinking a bit too much about the silver headed man i like, so i had to get it out of my system. hopefully this was it.

[rebuiltproject]

RailBirmon

Nível Adulto / Seijukuki / Champion  Atributo Dados  Tipo Pássaro Gigante  Campo Guardiões do Vento (WG) / Império do Metal (ME)  Significado do Nome Railgun, Canhão Eletromagnético. Bird, Pássaro em inglês. 

Descrição 

Comumente vista patrulhando ou guardando os mais diversos lugares, principalmente instalações fabris e usinas elétricas, esta Digimon Pássaro evoluída de Bentmon teve todas as suas capacidades melhoradas através da evolução, onde o que mais se destaca é sua visão, dado o fato de conseguir avistar ameaças a quilômetros, o que a torna essencial para a segurança de qualquer local. 

Como está sempre monitorando seus arredores e observando tudo que acontece, seja para a função de vigia ou durante sua própria rotina, gosta de juntar-se com outras de sua espécie e fofocar sobre a vida dos outros quando tem um tempo livre, discutindo sobre as mais diversas situações e tirando sarro de tudo. Tal comportamento descontraído é até inusitado vindo de uma criatura que demonstra seriedade e pouco fala na presença de outras espécies. 

RailBirmon teve sua cauda modificada em um canhão eletromagnético nomeado Pluma, usando como base a mesma tecnologia usada na Alterous de MetalGreymon. Com precisão invejável, ela intercepta qualquer inimigo de uma grande distância ao disparar um raio altamente energético (Trovão do Esplendor), tão veloz e potente que reagir a ele beira o impossível. 

Técnicas 

Trovão do Esplendor (Luster Thunder) Ao fixar a mira de seu canhão eletromagnético no inimigo, dispara um poderoso raio elétrico que o atinge com altíssima precisão. Aqueles alvejados por essa técnica dificilmente conseguem voltar ao combate. 

Descarga Celeste (Sky Discharge) Bate as asas para liberar várias descargas elétricas de suas penas, limitando a movimentação do oponente e o eletrocutando. 

Repulsão Magnética (Magnetic Repulsion) Expande um campo magnético ao seu redor, empurrando qualquer ameaça para longe dela. 

Disparo de Pluma (Pluma’s Shot) Atira raios repetidamente com o canhão Pluma. 

Linha Evolutiva 

Pré-Evoluções  Bentmon 

Artista Jonas Carlota  Digidex Empírea 

[markrosewater]

First, I want to say I really like Thunder Junction more than I thought I would. It could end up being my favorite set this year. Great job to you and the team! Second, back in AFR, the commander precons had a humanoid adventurer face commander and a monster alt commander. I thought that was really cool because I'm a big fan of monsters and weird creatures and love building decks with them as the commander. Magic has some really great monsterous creature types that are underrepresented as legendary creatures. I don't know if I'm alone in this, but I'd love for one humanoid and one beast/monster commander to be the norm for precon design. The Grand Larceny, Desert Bloon, and Quick Draw precons are great examples of this. Having Yuma, Gonti, and Stella Lee as the humanoid face commanders and Kirri Talented Sprout, Felix Five Boots, and Eris Roar of the Storm as the more monstrous alt commanders.

I bring this up because I was really hoping for something a little more monsterous for the Most Wanted precon alt commander. Like a Skeleton or Nightmare or Horror or Minotaur, or Bird. Something along those lines would be really interesting with one of the outlaw creature types. Instead, we got a Dwarf. Vihaan Goldwaker is a great card, don't get me wrong. I just wish that every precon could have alt commanders that are a little more "out there" in terms of creature type usage instead of another human or dwarf or elf, etc. What are your thoughts on this?

My thoughts are there's some one out there who loves Dwarves who's super happy because we made a Dwarf card for them. I hear you that you'd like more non-humanoid legendary creatures, and that is something we're dedicated to doing, as evidenced by the decks you did enjoy, but there's a lot of player desires to meet, which means we need to spread the love a bit.

[hellhound5925]

HERE IT IS 🙌🏻 THE MOMENT LONG AWAITED

Cyare Verd

*OC Raven x Hunter

A/N: Welcome back! I apologize for taking so long but ☝🏼 I edited my original story up to the fourth chapter only to decide I still didn’t like it so guess what I edited the same four chapters again 😅

I’ll start by saying, yes it still follows the season two storyline of The Bad Batch (unoriginal I know) but I did change it up quite a bit. If your looking for Omega (lol) shes gone 👋🏼 I was never a huge fan of her so I wrote her out 🫣 otherwise, I hope you enjoy the new version of my fic. I will be taking it off Wattpad and AO3 in the meantime so I can finish making edits.

Oh, one last thing. If you would like to be tagged please drop a comment or send me a message ☺️ Thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking time out of your day to read this. It means the world to me.

Anyways. Without further ado 🤲🏻 I present to you my updated fic 💖

Prologue/Background

Raven (If you see this. It’s the Pov for the following)

​Before order 66 went down, I spent my time on Kamino training new batches of clones for the Grand Army of the Republic. I met many of the troopers who lived there during the time including Sargent Hunter of the infamous Clone Force 99. Our interactions were usually quite brief but there was a certain charm about him I enjoyed from our very first encounter. However, I was there to perform my duty to my clan and that always came first.

​It was an honor to continue the legacy my father - Kal Skirata - left behind. He and my brothers - the Null ARC’s - have been off trying to thwart a plot they didn’t realize would lead to order 66.

​During that time, Kal’Buir had asked that I stay on Kamino not only for intel but also to get out any defecting troopers.

A friend of mine, who is another Mandalorian by the name of Aspen, posed as a supply ship for myself. She would drop off supplies or bring me an array of random items I asked for to validate her being there. Aspen would then smuggle troopers to Mandalore where they were to live out their days as they wished. A part of our clan. Clan Skirata.

When order 66 did finally happen, my brother Ordo had warned me to prepare for something big that would be happening soon. Whether or not he knew exactly what I’ll never know.

For the first few days, I lingered on Kamino waiting for any one of my brothers or Kal’Buir to contact me but it didn’t come. About a week later a droid appeared in my quarters with a message. ‘Get out now. You’re in danger Sen’ika (little bird).’ Kal’Buir was the only one who ever called me Sen’ika - mostly because I hated it but he could get away with anything.

Shortly thereafter, I packed my things discreetly and called for Aspen. She came within a rotation claiming the usual - that she was here to deliver supplies for me - and to my surprise they let her in.

The minute I was on her ship, the two of us left. We ended up on the planet in the mid rim. Where Ord Mantell became our temporary home.

Chapter One: Cid’s Parlor

Raven

Standing out in the busy streets of Ord Mantell, the sun beats down on my beskar fighting the darkness that rests on my shoulders. I will my feet to move it’s as if this weight is too much for them to carry.

My irritation radiates off me as the thunderous pitter patter pounds in my head each time a citizen passes by - must be nice to live so carefree - I think to myself. Yet they pay me no mind, even though the very nature of my armor is intimidating.

The dull black shein of a well-worn helmet that sits upon my head, with the infamous T shaped visor. The rest of the plates are the same color with a few iridescent feathers poking out from underneath. Ironic right.

This armor is my pride and joy. It was a coming of age gift - if that's what you want to call it - from my father. Kal’Buir was by far one of the greatest Mandalorians in the history of our people - though my opinion might be biased.

A wave of sadness washes over me at the thought of him, my family, my brothers, and my best friend Aspen. Shaking the thoughts from my mind I tell myself they wouldn’t want me to sulk. Aspen would smack me if she were here. Unfortunately, the two of us had to go our separate ways after getting into some trouble. What else is new?

Aspen has always been the friend I can count on for anything. We met as kids on Mandalore and practically grew up together. Once we were old enough, the two of us would drink - a little too much - and run our mouths. Sometimes I’d come home with a black eye and Kal’Buir would say ‘I hope the other guy looks worse’. With a osik (shit) eating grin he knew I could handle myself.

Eventually that trouble caught up to us. When I had been on Ord Mantell before, she and I got into it with a group of merc’s and Cid saved our skin. Usually I didn’t pick fights we couldn’t win but that time I did.

That was just after our home was bombed by the Empire. My family. My clan was there as far as I know. Rumor has it the surface is no longer safe. The blast destroyed everything and killed everyone. Grief does funny things to people.

Since then Cid feels we owe her every time she calls. Aspen was smart enough to ignore her but I can’t leave business unfinished. I don’t like owing people anything.

Bitterness courses through my veins and I find my feet moving through the doorway.

Hunter

Cid's Parlor is loud and crowded - as usual. Which for enhanced senses is why I prefer the solitude of the ship. Let’s not even get into the stench of hot bodies and alcohol might put me over the edge.

I take a deep breath to steady myself and push out the overwhelming sounds and smells, in an attempt to tune back into my brother's conversation. Echo and I were discussing whether or not the Marauder needs maintenance. Which is true it does. However, we don’t have the credits.

One glance over at Wrecker and its obvious Tech is beating him - again - at dejarik.

With a sigh and a gentle swirl of the pint in my hand, I watch as the amber liquid spins like a world pool. The sickly-sweet smell of blood orange and yeast reaches my nose. I let myself get lost in it for a moment, the scent totally washing over me.

The weight of the things we have had to endure begins creeping in. My men. Their safety and well-being are my responsibility. Crosshair.

Before I’m sucked too far into the void, my senses pick up something that wasn’t there a moment ago. Dark, sweet raspberry, rose. I’d recognize that scent anywhere after the hours I’d spent committing it to memory.

Lifting my gaze from my glass, it’s pulled like a force of gravity as a Mandalorian female enters the parlor. A warmth washes over me mixed with a little relief at seeing that all too familiar T-visor. I can’t contain the shock that creeps on my face at her presence or the memory—

‘Alright everyone, today we go over the basics.’ Her voice is crisp but not cold, giving orders and yet…silky smooth. I could listen to her speak to the regs all day.

She continues barking out orders which I recognize as the basics for hand-to-hand combat. I stop listening about half way through just to commit her to memory.

Covered head to toe in dark black beskar, her visor drifts over the group of men before her. The small frame is quite a contrast to the 6ft Clone troopers in formation. She has such a commanding presence, exuding confidence. My eyes roam over her curves and stop at the dual westar -35’s attached to either side of her thighs. For a moment I swear my heart might leap out of my chest—

Raven Skirata.

My trousers suddenly become constricting forcing me to shift uncomfortably. We only ever ran into one another a few times on Kamino. Mostly casual conversation about war efforts. The sound of her laugh when I told her about some of the things we’d improvised on missions, is one my brain never lets me forget. I never did get the courage to ask her about herself.

Raven crosses over to the bar and my eyes follow her every move. It’s only now that I notice she’s skinnier than I remember. Her complexion is quite pale in comparison to the dark circles under her eyes. The sight causes my chest to tighten. What the hell happened?

"Long time no see. I was starting to think you wised up" the Twi-lek bartender says by way of greeting. There's a long pause as the Raven drops her shoulders considerably.

"Unfortunately, I'm a little low on rations to be wise" she shoots back, that silky smooth voice taking on a sarcastic tone.

Having caught the attention of a rather large man - whose been talking loud enough for everyone in here to hear - he leans over to speak to her.

"Wow, that must be real beskar.......Wonder what kind of price someone would pay for th-that...." He slurs a little at the end.

In one smooth motion, Raven ejects her vibro-blade from her vambrace - the steel practically sings - slamming his head into the bar top with the other hand. A loud thud follows. Some of the patrons stop talking to stare while the Twi-lek laughs.

Pressing her blade to his throat she leans in close she sneers, "Try to take it from me and I'll find out how much someone will pay for your head.”

The man proceeds to mumble and she cocks her head at the bar tender as if in annoyance. Letting go of the man he slumps to his knees before getting up and stumbling away, hand pressed to his temple.

I have to work had to suppress the smile that threatens to creep onto my face, the corner of my mouth twitches anyways.

"Don't mess with Mandalorians" Echo chuckles, drawing attention. Raven glances our way tensing. Mentally I command myself to look away but I can’t. For a moment I swear, even through her visor we make eye contact.

Raven

After I’m satisfied I’ve put this man in his place, I let go and he slumps to the floor. Comments fly from over my shoulder but there’s that voice I’ve heard thousands of times that stands out.

I can’t help but turn and that when I see them. The red and white plastoid. Thanking my ancestors for the helmet, I roll my eyes at just how ironic it is they are here. Sargent Hunter and the Bad Batch. He and I have spoken a few times on Kamino but the others I’ve never officially met.

Frozen in place, I stare for a second. The Sargent doesn’t take his eyes off me with an unreadable expression. If I’m lucky he won’t recognize me - I think to myself. Forcing myself to move, I turn back to the bartender with a finger in the air, signaling I’d like a shot.

My gloved hands make their way to my helmet and gently slide it off, letting my messy blonde braid at the back of my head fall. Lately I find myself caring less and less about what I look like.

Placing my helmet on the bar top, I take a breath to steady myself before taking the shot. The burning liquid a welcomed punishment if nothing else.

The bartender nods over my shoulder and I sign knowing what's coming.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes" Cid says, throwing an arm over me like we are old pals.

I roll my hazel eyes "I'm not here because I want to be. Lets get on with it" I grumble.

"No 'Hi Cid, how are you?'" She asks.

"Nar'sheb (shove it)" I say in my native tongue with a polite smile on my face. She has no idea what I said to her but there's a snicker from someone close by.

————

"Remember what happened last time you threw your attitude around like that? " Cid scolds me as we enter her office.

Picking dust off my flight suit I sass, "I'm not here to discuss my 'attitude'. What's the mission?"

Cid moves behind her desk and crosses her arms "Fine, I need you to help out a group of fine gentlemen." She starts to explain, her tone a little too...chipper.

I raise a brow, shifting my weight and hum my dissatisfaction.

Cid immediately gets defensive, “Look it’s not my fault you mandos like to find trouble. You’re just lucky I was there to bail you out. Besides, these guys could really use someone with your skills. Dooku's private stash is being relocated by the Empire and I want you to help them get as much as possible".

The fact that she said Empire had my attention and attitude immediately shifts.

"I thought you might like that and I promise I'll give you 20%" she continues noticing my mood lighten.

"30 and it's a deal" I counter.

"Hey! I gotta pay those other guys too. I feel I'm being quite generous.”

I guess for considering who I’m speaking with… "Fine 20%, Now who are these guys?"

"They call themselves the Bad Batch. Wait here I'll go get them" she doesn’t give me a chance to respond before she heads out the door.

For a moment I stay where she left me and contemplate my next move. I can either play it like I don’t know them and take the chance their Sargent will recognize me or…

With an annoyed sigh, I stride over to her desk and set my helmet down before scanning the book shelves. Most of these I’ve read during my ‘spare time’ when Cid let me crash here before. Not surprisingly, there’s nothing new.

Leaning my back against one I take my gloves off and unbraid my hair. The blonde waves fall loosely over one shoulder ending just below my breast. It’s a wonder I ever let it get this long but a part of me just can’t bring myself to cut it.

I make myself comfortable at her desk, leaning back and kicking my boots up on it, When Cid flings the door open and scowls at me. My stomach ties itself into knots but I try to seem disinterested by playing with my hair.

There’s a chance these guys decided like the others to side with the Empire. But the odds they did and they are here? Slim but not zero.

Pushing off the desk I stand and stroll around to the front, leaning against it. A few golden strands fall into my face with the movement. My hands naturally side down towards my blasters holstered at my sides. A defense position that’s become muscle memory. The Sargent eyes follow my every move.

"Take it easy there Mando these are the good guys."

Cid rolls her eyes after seeing my body language. Once again in typical Cid fashion she hid this from me, likely knowing I wouldn’t come.

The largest one of the 4 pushes past.

"I'm Wrecker! I like to blow stuff up!" He says very loudly, sticking out his hand. My body is further tensing.

I hesitantly shake his hand, which compared to mine - even with gloves on - looks like it could easily crush it.

"Wrecker, I feel that last part was not necessary" says the one holding a datapad.

"I am Tech by the way.”

Nodding by way of greeting, I quickly glance over at their Sargent. Had I blinked I would have missed the split second of recognition before the mask of a leader slid into place.

The one with a socket arm glances over at him. Probably from the tension radiating off of me. Those amber eyes see me for exactly who I am.

My breathing picks up, but I quickly get it back under control. The former doesn’t seem to notice, not taking his eyes off me.

I decide to meet his gaze with a challenging one. Hoping to hide whatever it is he sees.

Shaking his head like he’s having a difficult time dragging himself from thought, introduces himself.

“I'm their Sargent-well was their Sargent...Hunter and this is Echo" he gestures to socket arm.

Echo waves at me with his socket and a soft smile. I nod slowly and clear my throat.

“I know who you are.”

Tech lifts his eyes from his datapad to look at me once again. Before he or anyone else can I say anything I continue,

“Raven. Raven Skirata.”

————

When I start towards my ship - alright so it's not really my ship, I stole it - I was so deep in thought I almost didn’t hear someone call out to me.

"Wouldn't it just be easier if we all went together?"

I stop not bothering to turn around "How do I know you won't leave me behind?"

If these are the clones I’ve heard so much about, there’s a good chance I can trust them. However, my instincts are telling me not to. Echo, almost like he is reading my mind says,

"You can trust us, we aren't like the others".

The sorrow in his voice fills the space between us, making me uncomfortable. I roll my shoulders, hands flexing at my sides.

Without saying anything I head up the ramp to my ship, gather a few things in my pack, and come back out to see Echo standing where I left him. The rest of the group must have gone to their ship. With a small nod he leads the way.

As we approach, I stop for a moment before heading up the ramp to admire the hull before me. An Omicron class attack shuttle but it’s been modified. It’s just as impressive if not more so in person. My brothers - specifically Mereel and Jaing - would have loved this thing, I can practically hear them fighting with even Ordo for who would pilot.

With a few steps up the ramp, I peer inside and it’s notably clean. Briefly I take in the surroundings noting the others up front in the cockpit area. Echo glances back at me sensing my hesitation.

“I’ll show you around”

I tip my visor towards him appreciatively, without saying a word.

————

Echo finishes the tour with the bunks, two on the left and two on the right. He gestures to the right, showing me which one is mine and offers me a gentle smile. With a quick glance I realize there are only 4 of them.

“Hunter usually stays up in the cockpit. You get his bunk.”

Great.

I nod my appreciation again and take my pack off my shoulder. The only things in it are a couple changes of regular clothes and some rations. I've not got much to lose that isn't my beskar these days.

Placing my pack on the lower bunk, the mythosaur skull on the back of my gloves stare back at me with hollow eyes. It’s almost like they know. Our people are gone. For a moment I wonder if anyone will even remember what it means.

I forgot Echo was still standing there until his throat clears. He says carefully, “Your father is Kal Skirata.”

My heart starts to thunder in my chest at the mention of his name. I finish settling my pack before I turn to face him. A part of me wants to answer but it feels like my mouth is full of cotton. I mentally thank my ancestors for the visor between us.

“He was one of my instructors. In my early days I mean. He was always really good to us. I heard about what he did...he got some of us out.”

Silence fills the space. I slide my helmet off, tucking it under an arm. Unable to look him in the eye, my boots seemingly interesting all the sudden.

“He’s gone.” My voice almost doesn’t sound like my own. Distant.

“Too many good people have been lost because of the war. I’m sorry to hear that.”

In his kind words, the galaxy feels a little less lonely. I finally lift my head and meet his gaze, seeing the loss there.

“I’m sorry for your loss too.”

Echo only offers me a somber smile in response. My walls go back up and I decide to change the subject. It comes out a little sassier than I had intended.

“So, you all have enhanced something or other right? I mean I was on Kamino and spoke to your Sargent a few times but mostly what I know is what I’ve heard.”

”Each of us had a unique quality. Wrecker is brute strength, Hunter has enhanced senses, and Tech is really smart.”

”Wasn’t there another member? Crosshair?”

Another sad look from him, “He chose the Empire.”

“Ah” I nod my understanding. “How do you fit in here?”

He rubs the back of his neck and chuckles.

“I was originally with the 501st under General Skywalker. We were on Skako minor and I was blown up. Captured by the Techno union and they made me mostly a machine.” Echo lifts his socket arm as a reference.

“My Captain. Rex. He and the Bad Batch rescued me. I owe them everything.”

That name. Captain Rex. It sounds familiar. ”No offense but you just met me and you trust me enough to tell me all this?” My sass once more evident.

He smiles and says “Your father spoke highly of you.”

My throat closes up at the same time pride washes over me. When I don’t respond he continues.

“I’ll leave you to get settled in” and with that he turns and heads toward the cockpit.

I watch as he reaches the others and takes a seat. Unable to do anything else other than process what he just said.

————

It takes me a while to recover from the conversation. A part of me hesitates to comm Aspen but I can’t risk compromising her.

Instead, I take my time to check my weapons (two blasters at my hip, vibro blade in my vambrace, and the various blades stashed in my boots and under my back plate). No one bothers to check on me, which is just as well. Finally, I end with checking the HUD in my helmet - which seems to be functioning fine.

Discarding my helmet on the bunk, I head for the cockpit where the others are chatting quietly. The hushed tones likely to prevent me from overhearing. Hunter stiffens as I approach which only confirms my thought.

The four seats at the front were taken up by each of the members. Leaning against the doorway I cross my arms over my chest plate.

"We don't have a reason to trust each other but once this mission is over and I'm paid, I'm gone. You won't have to worry after that.” The annoyance plastered on my face is visible to all.

They all glance at one another except Hunter, his eyes fixed on my face like he’s trying not to look anywhere else. He almost looks hurt at my comment.

"That seems reasonable" Tech says very matter of factly.

”Great. So, what's the plan?”

“Get to Serenno and scout the area." Hunter says turning his attention to space zooming by at light speed.

I sigh, "That's not much of a plan but I can improvise."

Wrecker chimes in, ”Ahaha you’ll fit right in!” Awkward silence fills the space before I break it.

“Right. Well I guess we should all rest up so let me know when we land.” Spinning on a heel, I head for the bunks.

Next Chapter here.

Wattpad link here.

Taglist: @cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter @savebytheodore @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @jediknightjana @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal

Lemme know if you wanna be tagged in the future!

[partystoragechest]

A story of romance, politics, and drama, which continues ever on.

Supplemental material for Unwanted. In this post-script, Trevelyan journeys to the Temple of Sacred Ashes at the worst possible time.

(Masterpost. Beginning. Words: 3,110. Rating: all audiences, bar some swearing.)

Bonus Chapter: The Temple of Sacred Ashes (Part 1)

The Temple of Sacred Ashes lived up to its name in only one aspect: there was plenty of ash.

Trevelyan and Herzt left boot-prints in their wake, as they walked the ruins of the temple. What had once been a grand, mountain-side monument to the glory of the Maker was now little more than a crater of crumbled walls, peppered with towering spikes of red lyrium, clawing their way out of the ground.

It was the latter, of course, they came to see. Well, there wasn’t much else to gawk at—except, perhaps, the glimmering green scar of the Breach, left hanging in the skies above.

“The largest concentrations appear to have formed where organic material is in abundance,” Trevelyan noted to Herzt, as they crept toward a particularly intimidating spike. It had sapped what little life grew around it, nothing but dry, dead grasses left in its wake.

“That is consistent with our previous findings, Arcanist,” added Herzt. “It thrives on the biology of others.”

Trevelyan sighed, and looked out over the crater below. The evidence for this point was laid quite plainly before them, as it was not merely nature that the red lyrium had feasted upon. The corpses of those who’d died to the Breach had been drained to little more than unrecognisable husks.

“Death follows where it goes,” muttered Trevelyan.

She dipped into her satchel, to take a note—but paused. A thumping sound, like the beat of a distant drum, echoed around the mountains.

“Do you hear that?” she asked Herzt.

He nodded. “Strange. I do not recognise it.”

Trevelyan glanced back at their retinue, who had, thus far, been contentedly idling while she researched. Not so now.

At arms, they listened. Somewhere, beyond the crater, cries rang out and weaponry clashed. Unmistakable: the cacophony of battle. It rippled like a wave through the valley, surging ever closer, in concert with the approaching thrum.

A muffled shout reached them. One of the soldiers must have heard, for they repeated it, loud and clear:

“DRAGON!”

All fell to shadow, as the sun was blotted from the sky. Silence perished, ‘neath the dreaded pound of thunderous wings. Trevelyan looked to Herzt.

“Run!”

Darkness shifted; the dragon dove. Trevelyan and Herzt sprinted from the ruins, towards the underpass from which they’d entered. Though no more than a roof that had survived rubbling, it was the best defense they had.

“Come on, come on!” called a soldier from within. Trevelyan and Herzt skidded past the protection of his shield, as a blast of pure energy detonated in the spot they had occupied mere moments ago.

Trevelyan’s eyes widened. “That was—”

That was no primal element. Not flame, not ice, not even lightning—though it burned just as blinding-bright. No, it was unlike any of that.

It was red.

Trevelyan glanced to where the dragon circled, patrolling the skies above. Silhouetted by the dying sun, she glimpsed a rider upon its back.

“Corypheus.”

Though she had not seen the creature before, she knew him by description. And it wasn’t like there were any other red lyrium dragon-riding bastards terrorising the countryside.

But why? Why was he here?

Trevelyan’s eyes caught on the closed-up wound of the Breach, and all became clear.

“Herzt,” she said, looking him in the eye, “you need to run back to camp. Send a bird to Skyhold immediately. Tell them Corypheus is attempting to reopen the Breach.”

Herzt nodded, dutiful as ever, completely placid in the face of death. “Yes, Arcanist.”

A soldier stumbled in, from the direction of the valley: “It’ll be a fight. We’ve got forces incoming.”

“Then go with him,” Trevelyan told a handful of soldiers. “That message must be sent.”

“What about you?” their Captain asked.

Trevelyan readied her staff. “Corypheus cannot be allowed to reopen the Breach.”

“No.” The Captain stared her down. “You’re not to come to any danger—Commander’s orders.”

The dragon roared. Trevelyan gathered energy within her focus.

“He’ll forgive me.”

She blinked through the Fade, abandoning the safety of the underpass, and took off running. The Captain called for her to return, but she did not look back. Her eyes were firmly on the skies above, and the dragon that filled them.

“Here, you bastard!” she shouted, sending a fireball off in its direction. “Follow me!”

Though the spell missed its target, it certainly gained its attention. The dragon rounded on her, and pursued.

Nothing could terrify quite like that. To know there was something coming. To hear it close the distance. To feel its breath striking at one’s back. Nothing could terrify like the feeling of being hunted.

Trevelyan had run like this before. She could do it again. Whenever she felt she had mana capable, she slipped through the Fade, got a little further.

But there was no outrunning the blast.

The moment she heard it in the dragon’s throat, she turned. Leapt. Down a level of the crater, back pressed against the stone. Energy quaked the rock above her head, the very wall she clung to.

But the dragon had missed. That was all that mattered.

Little time to celebrate, however. It swung through the sky, readying for a second bombardment. Trevelyan needed to move.

Her only chance was a quirk of the landscape she had noticed during her exploration of it. The valley was not this crater’s only exit: there was another path, a sheer climb, up through the mountains. Yet it was sheltered enough—by cliffs on both sides—that if Trevelyan could make it to the first ladder, she could make it out.

Her eyes locked onto it. Her body readied to run.

The dragon twisted in the sky, and brought its gaze upon her. A roar preceded its next deadly breath. Jaw, open. Teeth, beared. A blast—

—hit the rock behind her, as Trevelyan burst from the wall and Fade-stepped forward. She hit the ground at a pace, dashing across the crater’s centre. A frustrated roar overwhelmed her ears. There was no time to listen. Breathless, desperate, she ran.

But what lay between her and the other side was a wasteland. No walls; just stone, just lyrium. Nowhere to hide.

And there was a screech at her back.

Trevelyan took what Fade energy she had, and threw it out behind her. A wall of fire rocketed up at her command, and obscured her from the dragon’s view. Though its breath blasted clean through the flames—the shot went wide. She survived, again.

Up the crater, and into the cliffs. What would happen beyond them, she did not know. But this was her only chance of escape. Her hand clapped onto the rung of the first ladder. With a glance behind to see the dragon circle, she began to climb.

Hand over hand, she scaled the ladder as fast as she could. A panting dash, to the next. No opportunity to check her vicinity, she listened for wings instead. Not far—but far enough. There was time. Time she would not waste. Up, quickly.

Yet with haste, comes inaccuracy. And for her, the inevitable occurred. As she came within arm’s reach of the summit, Trevelyan’s foot missed a rung.

Her body dropped, stopped only by the sudden reaction of her hands, clinging on with all her might. She dangled, feet slipping as she tried, desperately, to find her footing once more. The wings. She could no longer hear them.

A foot latched on. She glanced out, to locate her doom—but the dragon was nowhere near her. The dragon did not care for her. No, its attention was quite elsewhere.

The call of a bird shrieked across the mountain peaks, as it soared into the sky. Sent from their camp, seeking home. Seeking Skyhold.

The dragon turned on it.

“No!” Trevelyan screamed.

One arm clinging to the ladder, her other drew her staff and thrust it outward. By her will, clouds darkened. Thunder rumbled. Her fear and anger were drawn to her focus, and concentrated into raw power.

Lightning shot down from the sky, aimed at the dragon’s wing.

The beast, jaws wide, was forced to rear back—its momentum halted, its wings furled. Though the lightning streaked past its body, the damage was done. The bird was gone, lost over the range.

Fury shook the sky, as the dragon roared its frustration. Trevelyan was already climbing again. She knew who would be the target of its anger. The next blast was coming. There was no running.

But there was hiding. Upon the mountain plateau, salvation made itself known. An opening, in the peak—dark beyond its entrance, but good enough to evade the wrath of a dragon. With its presence in her periphery, Trevelyan ran.

Each second lasted as if an hour. Each stride felt a marathon. It was as if Trevelyan witnessed the very last moments of her life, in every intricate detail. The whistle of the wind past her ears. The flight of the snow kicked up by her feet. The pain of breaths, slicing at her throat.

She could hear the dragon like a gathering storm.

Her foot hit the threshold of the cavern, and all returned to motion. She threw herself around a corner, pressed her back to the walls—as an almighty burst of raw, red energy ploughed into the entrance.

No speck of stone was spared; the dragon torched it all. Repeatedly. Its roars shook the mountain; its breath caused it to falter. Trevelyan’s entire body tensed, compacting itself against the rock. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if that made a difference; she clutched her staff to her chest, begging its protection.

In the darkness of her fear, she heard the shudder of stone. Relentlessly beaten by the dragon’s breath, it cracked and strained. And soon, the sound of the roar was drowned out, by that of avalanching rock.

Trevelyan held her breath, and prayed.

When at last the cavern fell to quiet, a cloud of dust brushed past her face. Her eyes slowly opened, to see the entrance of the cave—mere feet away—no longer extant. Collapsed.

“No!” she cried. She clambered closer, and listened to what lay beyond. Yet, beside the settling rock, she heard nothing. Nothing, except the faint sound of wings, receding from the mountain.

It couldn’t be. Corypheus was returning to the Breach.

Desperate, Trevelyan scrambled back. She aimed her staff at the pile of debris, built its power—and released. A blast of raw, kinetic energy crashed into the rubble. But it did not clear. Instead, it shook. The whole mountain shook. The avalanche began anew.

Trevelyan ran, a wall of falling rock at her heels, a cloud of chasing dust threatening to consume her. Her heart beat as loud as it had for the dragon. A mountain had no concept of mercy either.

But in her haste, the features of the cavern eluded her. A drop appeared before her—a set of stairs she noticed all too late. Trevelyan fell, and fell, and fell.

Her hip smacked into the ground where she landed, and Trevelyan cried out in pain. Though the rockfall had been evaded, it had come at a cost. Wincing, crawling, she found her staff where it had fallen, and by its support, was able to stand.

She hissed from the strain. A hand pressed to her side, and she did her best to heal. All the while, her eyes surveyed.

Though she would rather not have discovered them the way she did, these stairs were important. Stairs were made by mortal hands, not mountains. Someone had been here, once; left paved floors and supporting columns. If only they’d reinforced the exit more.

“There must be another,” Trevelyan muttered to herself.

With a fire in her palm lighting the way, she began her search.

But this place was an inscrutable maze. The dripping of stalagtites was her only company, each droplet that struck the ground driving her further and further to madness. Every second she wasted here was another that Corypheus had to enact his dark will upon the Breach. It cracked and burst in her mind, as if it were already too late. Maker, let it not be too late.

“Are you sure you’ll be all right? I could accompany you.”

Her mind trailed to even deeper anxieties. To the words of Cullen, hours before she had left.

“You need to oversee the return of troops from the Arbor Wilds,” she’d told him, “I’ll be all right. I’ll have Herzt, and the retinue.”

“Be careful, please. The area isn’t safe.”

Oh, the pleading in his eyes as he said those words.

“I promise you, Cullen—I’ll returned unharmed.”

That promise. She would not forsake it. She would find the way out. She would stop Corypheus. If not for her, then for him.

Something echoed in the darkness ahead, and pulled her mind from its recollection. Nothing more than a little scraping sound, that could well have been an errant deepstalker—but Trevelyan could take no chances. She followed.

Down another staircase, round a corner. Into some kind of storage area, stacked at the edges with long-abandoned equipment that was of little interest to Trevelyan. It was the sound she cared for. Not the scraping—a whistling. She could hear a whistling. Constant, but ebbing. Wind through the mountains? It had to be.

But it was silenced by a screech.

Trevelyan conjured a barrier, precisely as a demon of despair—mangled, toothy, and ragged—apparated from the shadows, and blasted her with ice.

Though it pummeled her defenses, they survived the onslaught. And the moment it ceased, she launched a retaliatory fireball in the demon’s direction.

But it leapt away, torn cloak never quite touching the ground. Her fire smattered against the rocks, extinguished. Yet, in the brief flash of its light, Trevelyan realised that it was not merely despair she now faced.

A pair of shades came crawling from the woodwork, their humanoid forms amorphous and hunched: the picture of something attempting personhood, but failing in every aspect.

One lunged.

Trevelyan Fade-stepped back, to give herself room. Their being here spoke of a weakness in the Fade, one she could exploit for power. As they gathered energy, so did she.

Despair shrieked, announcing its next barrage. Trevelyan whirled, focus alight. Flames whipped out—snaking fire sought the demon like a whip, coiling around its limbs, its body, its neck. Trevelyan pulled them taut, and pulled it apart.

Yet the shades took this as opportunity. They shifted through the shadows, little difference between them and darkness, lurking ever closer. Though nothing pierced her skin, hissing claws scraped against Trevelyan’s mind, threating to sink in. The pain worsened with proximity.

Undeterred, Trevelyan span her staff. The momentum carried her blade upward, slicing through the jaw of one shade, and exploding it into remnants. The other yet loomed—but Trevelyan ducked from its path as it struck, and brought her staff around. With the clench of her fist, ice sprang from the ground, and consumed the shade whole. Her staff slashed through, and shattered it to pieces.

Though she prepared for further combat, she felt no further presence. Good. She would not be impeded any longer.

The subtle rush of wind grew louder with each stride. It guided her forth, through the last of the cave—and into the invading glare of the setting sun, pouring through an opening like a portal to another world. Though all she could see beyond it was mountains and snow, Trevelyan ran.

She emerged on high, overlooking the mountain-valley below. But Corypheus was nowhere in sight.

Anxious, she looked to the sky. The Breach. It remained, still little more than a scar, streaking through the heavens. He had not succeeded yet.

Though, whether it was her imagination or truth, Trevelyan could not help but feel it glowed brighter. Cracked, snarled. Unopened, perhaps, but not untouched.

Her eyes darted to the slope of the mountain, to see her way down. There were ladders in place, quite fortunately, from whatever group had once shored up this godforsaken mountainside. They led to the bottom of the valley, to...

A large stone bridge. One she recognised. It had been the checkpoint they’d passed through on their way to the Temple. The few soldiers who’d patrolled it then had now multiplied into their dozens. But—why were they here? Why were they not storming the valley?

Urgency took over once more. Trevelyan slid down the rickety ladders that led the way, and scrambled across the last of the snowbanks that separated her and the soldiers. The bridge gate was opened for her, and the watchmen atop hurried her in.

She had hoped to arrive to the clash of steel ringing out, and the calls of soldiers amongst its throng. But the only steel here was that of swords being sharpened, and the only shouts that of the Captain, to his gathered troops.

Trevelyan pushed and parted her way through them, intended for that Captain, but halted. Hidden, within the mass of armour, was one not so soldier-like.

“Herzt!” she cried, rushing up to embrace him. “Are you all right?”

“I am well, Arcanist,” he told her, thank the Maker. “I am relieved to see you are alive. We were able to send the message, as you requested.”

“I saw—but why are you still here? You need to get as far away as possible.”

The Captain interrupted, shouting over: “We can’t go anywhere! He’s got the last of his bloody Red Templars moving in. We need to hold the line.”

Trevelyan marched to face him. “It’s a distraction! While we fight here, Corypheus has unfettered access to the Breach! You need to advance on the Temple!”

“We do that, and we’ll be overwhelmed! We need reinforcements,” the Captain told her, “and we’ll hold until we get them. That’s what the message was for!”

Trevelyan snarled, “We won’t need that message if he reopens the Breach!”

“Arcanist,” said Herzt.

Trevelyan glanced at him, then in the direction he was pointing. Up.

Indeed, they would not need that message. For the Breach began to snap and shriek, crying out as it was bent and broken under the influence of pure malevolence. A beam of green light shot skyward from the Temple, seeking the Breach like an arrow.

“No!” Trevelyan cried. In the split-second she had, she whirled on Herzt, and threw out her arms. A barrier formed. The Breach detonated.

Its blast slammed into Trevelyan’s back. She was catapulted across the bridge, crashing into its wall, body hanging over the parapet.

And there, she lay.

[k3nnysh0utt]

Ever since the start of empires s2 ive been thinking about what terraria bosses each member would be and im still unsure about some but i think i got most of them

Starting with Gem i went with Golem. Queen bee or Empress Of Light would have worked but i think golem works best since the whole jungle temple and golems drops are related to the sun.

For Kathrine i went with Empress Of Light, Queen Slime could have worked aswell. Even though Empress Of Light is harder to fight during the day i still think it fits.

Joey Graceffa is Duke Fishron its very similar he has an ocean themed empire i could have gone with the flying Dutchman because i am including mini bosses but bht duke fishron just fits better, plus i get to draw him as a cool ass fuckin pig fish.

Scott would probably be the Lunatic Cultist and i dont have any actual reason i just think he'd look cool as em also no other boss would fit him. Thsi does kinda make it seem like he worships Joel(because i made him Mood Lord) but eh.

Falsesymmetry would be Skeleton Prime maybe a steampunk version of it? I remember seeing a terraria mod that added a steampunk hardmode version for the rest of the prehardmode bosses. The four arms could either be the exact same as skeleton primes or they could just have hands.

Lizzie's one is the one im really unsure about i picked Queen Bee but it doesn't really fit and its the only animal themed boss.

Sausage i picked the Pumpking i could have gone with one of the tree mini bosses but do you think i wanna give him a mini boss named morning wood? But ya Pumpking would work because you know nature n shit.

Shelby's one doesn't make too much sense, i went with Plantera mainly because of the pink flowers in her mc skin but thats kinda it, the only other thing i could have gone with are the goblin  summoner but that doesn't really count as a mini boss. I might switch Sausages and Shelbys around because either one will fit them.

If i included modded bosses then Jimmy would have been the Desert Scourge(calamity mod) or The Grand Thunder Bird(thorium mod) but im not including modded bosses so im going with Skeleton, the dungeon usually spawns near the ocean so its the closest we get to a desert/mesa boss. The old sheriff could also be the old man that spawns at the surface of the dungeon.

Fwhip would be the eater of worlds it just makes sense, The Eater Of Worlds is(usually) spawned underground AND it burrows through the ground.

Oli being Betsy doesn't fit too much but there isn't any other boss taht would fit, i originally had the pillers as him but didn't think they'd fit and also his child Gregory the dragon egg would fit with him being Betsy(i made the list of what terraria boss each empires member would be at ages ago, before Oli's final lmao)

Joel is just the Moon Lord its the closest thing in terraria to a god thats the only reason i picked that boss for him. now if you drew him as the Moon Lord would you draw him with or without his legs?

Pixlriffs is The Brain Of Cthulhu i love The Brain Of Cthulhu and when you think of a brain you think of being smart n shit so i gave them to pixlriffs

And bonus Hermes would be one of the pillers id say either the vortex piller or the nebula piller

[al-cin]

Harmony of Rebellion

Snow begins to fall. Lyra a songbird, will she remain free or be caged.

Part 1

The Capitol, with its towering pillars and ornate architecture, was illuminated by a dazzling array of lights that cast a spellbinding aura over the entire area. Despite the grandeur of the scene, there was an underlying sense of oppression that permeated the air. Amidst the crowd of elegantly dressed individuals, Lyra stood on the stage, a striking figure of rebellion disguised as a captivating singer.

Her luscious, dark curls cascaded down her back as she held the microphone with a fierce determination. The spotlight enveloped her in a radiant glow, and the anticipation in the air was almost tangible. This was more than just a performance; it was a clandestine act of defiance against the Capitol's tyrannical rule.

As the orchestra began to play, the sound of violins, cellos, and trumpets filled the grand hall. Lyra, the lead vocalist, stepped onto the stage, her long dress flowing behind her. As she began to sing, her voice was like a bird's, soaring above the music. The audience, consisting of the Capitol's elite, was dressed in their finest attire, their eyes fixed on Lyra. They were completely captivated by her performance, unaware of the hidden message within the lyrics. The song spoke of resilience and defiance, a call to arms for those who were willing to fight against the oppressive regime. Despite the danger of being caught, Lyra and her fellow rebels decided to use their music as a tool to spread their message of hope and freedom.

Amid the crowd, Coriolanus Snow, an emblem of Capitol authority, found himself drawn to the mysterious singer. The allure was not merely physical; it was the haunting sincerity in Lyra's voice, a voice that echoed the longing for freedom in a society built on control.

Lyra's eyes scanned the audience, her gaze meeting Coriolanus's for a fleeting moment. In that exchange, a spark ignited — an unspoken connection that transcended the boundaries of the stage. Little did she know, her music had reached the very heart of the Capitol's tyranny. As the last note hung in the air, a hushed silence descended upon the room before erupting into thunderous applause. Lyra gracefully acknowledged the accolades, but her mind was elsewhere. She descended from the stage, her every step a quiet rebellion against the forces that sought to stifle individuality.

Coriolanus, a tall and imposing figure, was immediately drawn to the enchanting singer who had captivated the entire crowd. He pushed his way through the throng of people, his eyes fixed on her, determined to unravel the mystery behind her mesmerizing voice. Lyra, a petite and delicate-looking woman, sensed his approach and quickly composed herself, hiding her true feelings behind a practiced facade of innocence. She played the part of a master puppeteer, skillfully manipulating the dance of deception between them.

The grand hall of the Capitol was a sight to behold on the following evening. The glittering lights illuminated the hall, casting an enchanting glow that created a magical atmosphere. Lyra, the talented singer, took the stage once again, and the audience was filled with anticipation as the first notes of her rebellious melody filled the room. The air was charged with excitement, and everyone was eager to hear her sing.

Coriolanus Snow, who was discreetly positioned in the audience, felt a magnetic pull towards the stage as Lyra sang. He was captivated by her voice, which was filled with passion and emotion. As her eyes scanned the room, their gaze met once again, leaving an indelible mark on him. He couldn't help but feel drawn to her, and he knew that he had to meet her.

After the performance, Coriolanus approached Lyra in the backstage shadows, where the air was thick with the lingering echoes of her song. He was nervous, but he knew that he had to speak to her. He began to speak, choosing his words carefully, "Your voice carries an unusual fervor, a passion that transcends mere entertainment. I was captivated by your performance, and I would love to hear more of your music." Lyra was surprised by his words, but she was also intrigued. She knew that there was something special about Coriolanus, and she was eager to get to know him better. Lyra, feigning innocence, tilted her head. "Why, thank you. I believe music should stir the soul, don't you?"

Coriolanus, undeterred, leaned in slightly. "Indeed, but I sense there's more to your performances than meets the eye." Lyra's smile remained, but a glint of defiance flickered in her eyes. "Perhaps the Capitol could use a bit of mystery, don't you think? Keeps things interesting." Their exchange was a dance of words, each step taken with calculated precision. Yet, beneath the surface, a tension simmered — the clash of two opposing forces. As weeks passed, Lyra's performances became bolder, the lyrics of her songs weaving tales of resistance and yearning for freedom. The Capitol's elite reveled in the melodies, oblivious to the rebellion hidden in plain sight.

One evening, after Lyra's most audacious performance yet, Coriolanus confronted her in a secluded alcove. "You're playing a dangerous game," he warned, his voice low and charged. Lyra met his gaze, her tone unwavering. "Isn't life a game, and aren't we all players? Some of us just choose to dance to a different tune." Their verbal sparring echoed through the hidden corridors, a reflection of the deeper conflict that lay beneath the surface. The harmony of rebellion swelled with each performance, and the air itself seemed to carry whispers of change.

The banquet hall was filled with the chatter of Capitol's elite, and it was bathed in opulent radiance. At the head table, Coriolanus Snow, Tigris, and Grandmama were presiding over the spectacle. Amidst the rich tapestry of dignitaries and extravagant displays, Lyra stood poised, wearing a gown that was a delicate balance of elegance and rebellion.

Coriolanus, Tigris, and Grandmama were engaged in subdued conversation, periodically glancing toward Lyra. Whispers rippled through the gathered guests, anticipation heightening as they awaited the mysterious singer's performance.

Lyra, who was acutely aware of the charged atmosphere, gracefully ascended the stage with quiet confidence. The ambient sounds of conversation gradually faded away, leaving only the soft rustling of fine fabrics in the air. 

"Good evening, esteemed guests," Lyra's voice, as smooth as silk, caressed the hall. "Tonight, I present to you a composition inspired by the ebb and flow of life within the grand tapestry of Panem."

The grand room was filled with a hushed and reverent silence as the pianist's fingers touched the keys, producing a haunting prelude that set the stage for Lyra's performance. The notes of the piano seemed to float in the air, creating a sense of anticipation and wonder. Coriolanus, Tigris, and Grandmama watched with shared curiosity, their eyes fixed on Lyra as she began to play. The melody was both haunting and beautiful, evoking a sense of longing and nostalgia. As the music swelled and filled the room, it was as if time stood still, and the audience was transported to another world, lost in the enchanting spell of Lyra's performance.

"In the dance of shadows, where secrets lie untold, we find the courage to defy," Lyra began, her eyes sweeping the room with an arresting intensity. "A tale of rebellion unfolds." The melody wove a narrative of yearning, resistance, and the indomitable human spirit. Lyra's impromptu composition painted a vivid picture, and the audience, momentarily stunned, became entwined in its storytelling.

Coriolanus, despite his reservations, found himself drawn into the emotional resonance of Lyra's words. Tigris, with her discerning eyes, and Grandmama, a matriarch of Capitol society, exchanged glances. There was an unspoken acknowledgment of the unexpected potency in Lyra's performance.

As Lyra reached the climax of her song, her gaze locked onto Coriolanus. "In the heart of tyranny, where shadows intertwine, a symphony of defiance we shall design." The words lingered in the air, a declaration that resonated through the banquet hall. Lyra's impromptu creation became a conduit for the unspoken desires and frustrations of those present. Applause erupted, not merely a display of appreciation but a recognition of something deeper, something that transcended the usual Capitol entertainment. Lyra, with her mellifluous voice, had encapsulated the spirit of resistance in her performance.

Lyra gracefully curtsied, acknowledging the applause with a serene smile. The hall remained in a state of reverie, the lingering notes of the piano echoing the sentiment that had been unleashed. Coriolanus, compelled by a mixture of admiration and intrigue, approached Lyra after the performance. Tigris and Grandmama followed suit, their steps forming an unconscious alliance as they navigated the sea of admiring spectators.

"You have a remarkable gift," Coriolanus admitted, his tone revealing a blend of curiosity and admiration. Lyra, her eyes holding a depth that belied her age, responded, "Thank you, Mr. Snow. Music has a way of expressing what words alone cannot."