#and then the flowers will depict something more visceral

[whateverisbeautiful]

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#35: The Buildup (1.04)

gif cred: @perryabbott

This moment. This moment. This moment. Where to even begin? Let's just start by saying - hottest scene ever. 🔥❤️‍🔥🔥 When Richonne get back to that apartment there’s a whole stretch where they don’t do any talking...but yet they still have some very riveting communication 👌🏽...

They seriously tried to send me up into the afterlife with this whole moment, but it’s okay, I forgive them and thank them profusely. 😋

Y'all, I adore the way this pivotal, palpable, and incredible depiction of intimacy plays out. And the mind of Danai to turn both this buildup moment here and the love-making scene into something so deep and layered. Genius. 👏🏽👑

Rick and Michonne returning to this level of intimacy with each other for the first time in almost eight years was already going to make it pertinent to the plot and a purposeful development in the story - but for Danai to be of the mindset that she didn’t just want to stop at pertinent but instead communicate something profound and emotionally complex with Richonne's lovemaking moment. She deserves every flower for the thoughtfulness put into this. 💐

And TOWL in general was Andy and Danai getting to display their talent and chemistry to the max but from this moment on they broke the damn dial with the way they turned the volume all the way up on their talent and chemistry. 🙌🏽 🔉

source: @ririchonne

Genuinely, not even being hyperbolic, what was captured in the following passionate events feels out of this world and so of course when reveling over it I have to be...

This whole buildup moment in the apartment before Richonne heads to the bed is the hottest part for me. 🔥 The amount of tension and desire that they convey is crazy good. Richonne's hunger for each other is just visceral and it's like you can almost tangibly feel the way they're burning up for each other. ❤️‍🔥

So Rick and Michonne make it back to the apartment and we know adrenaline rushes really help set the mood for Richonne so the sexual tension in the air is thick immediately.

They’re both just breathing hard and then the temp controller chimes in to welcome them home again which I love. 😊 And this time they really are about to come home to each other in a sense.

gif cred: @nat111love

Like Michonne came really close to leaving but now that events have led them right back to each other in this apartment I feel like the thermostat is trying to get Richonne's attention like ‘hello, y’all are home to each other.’

Michonne is standing a bit ahead of Rick and looking around...and Rick ain’t looking anywhere but at her. Like homeboy is fixated. I feel like even if a dang meteor could be seen plummeting from that big window Rick wouldn’t peel his eyes off Michonne in this moment. 😋

I think after coming close to losing her several times in the last hour he’s a bit more aware of how much he needs to appreciate that she’s here with him. 

Michonne lifts up her sleeve a little because I think she can fully sense this hungry man behind her and what's on his mind (and her mind too.👌🏽)

gif cred: @nat111love

And the temp controller says, “Temperature control malfunction” and that’s probably because the temperature is already record levels of hot with Richonne's sexual tension permeating the air like this lol. 🥵

Rick slowly approaches her and Michonne slowly turns to him as they get up close and personal. The way Richonne can communicate without words, I feel like a whole lot gets said in their eye contact and kisses during this wordless sequence. 

gif cred: @nat111love

Also, I like how this scene parallels when Rick and Michonne were first in front of each other with the PRB earlier in this episode.

During that PRB moment, Rick was looking at Michonne like 'I know what we want to do but we can’t. ' And then now here when they've returned to the apartment he’s looking at her like 'I know what we want to do and we must.' They're starving and they can’t resist anymore.

Honestly, whenever Rick is within kissing distance from Michonne he looks like her presence consumes his mind and those inner magnets make it near impossible to not just lean in every time.

Also, I always get reflective of Richonne's overall journey and I just love how Rick and Michonne really went from this to this.

A love story for the ages. 🤩

So Rick looks down, mouth all open, and just again transfixed as he slowly reaches out his hand to touch her. One thing I love about this buildup moment is the slowness of everything. 😊 Like every movement takes its time.

And it makes sense that Rick is moving at a slower pace here because he’s trying to see if it’s okay to initiate all this after everything they just went through. But while the movement is slow, his heart looks like it's racing rapidly as he becomes pretty much intoxicated by her.

gif cred: @nat111love

...And Michonne can’t resist, y’all. 🤭 Like she knows she’s technically supposed to still be mad at Rick after the awful things he’s said but it quickly becomes clear that she misses him even more than she’s mad at him. 🥲

gif cred: @nat111love

And she misses all of him, including the parts she has yet to reunite with…but that’s soon about to change.

gif cred: @nat111love

Rick slowly puts his hand on her arm and she doesn’t pull away. And then Rick looks in her eyes like he hasn’t had a good glass of water in 1000 years and Michonne is the only woman that can quench him. Like the yearning in his look was really something.

gif cred: @nat111love

And then, y’all I thought it was laundry day the way our girl Michonne proceeds to fold. 😋 And of course, she folds. That's her baby and the love of her life and she hasn’t been able to be with him like this in years so...

Before Rick leans in for the first kiss, he’s already in the process of winning her over cuz she leans in a little first basically letting him know she does want this. It was giving magnets when she did that. 🧲👌🏽 

And her super subtle lean-in is all Rick needs to finally fully lean in and kiss her and I love Richonne’s slow single kisses. 😊 So far in TOWL they’ve been understandably ravenously making out and so this moment stands out for how much they let each kiss breathe a little. It’s so good.

gif cred: @nat111love

But also y’all, when I first watched this, knowing this is def building up to their first TOWL sex scene, I was sounding a lot like Nat. Cuz I was looking at Michonne like, “Sis...

I just wanted to be sure Michonne was going to be making love with her Rick and not the Sergeant Major who's been saying hurtful things and still hasn't asked anything about RJ.

Plus, I had a feeling Rick still had a little audacity left in his system and wasn’t yet going to agree to go home with her. (And that ended up being correct 🙃)…But look, it’s been a long time and so Michonne was like we’ll address all that later. 😅

gif cred: @kimwexlersponytail

So Rick kisses her once and then leans to the other side as Michonne puts her hand on his face, letting Rick know she doesn't want him to stop. They kiss a second time with a little more lingering on that kiss as things slowly but surely ramp up.

When they pull away Michonne looks at him like she maybe has 1% left in her that remembers she’s still supposed to be mad. The other 99% of her just longs for him.

gif cred: @msanonships

And then that 1% disappears into thin air during this next kiss and it’s my favorite part. 😊

Cuz Rick proves that it may have been some years but he still knows his wife and knows what gets her going because, while they don’t fully show it, you can tell that he definitely seems to have reached down to her derrière and that’ll do it for her, honey. 😋

gif cred: @fishalthor

Cuz when he does that and pulls her in closer to him, he has Michonne inhaling hard and fully leaning into that third hungry kiss. At that moment I was like...annnnd he got her. He got her and she ain’t mad no more. It worked like he knew it would. 😊

It’s also probably his first time even really being able to touch her like that since again those layers of clothing in previous eps were sort of a barrier.

There seems to be a consistent thing set up that her grabbing his hair gets him activated and as her husband, he definitely knows that grabbing her backside gets her activated...and him too lol. I think Michonne’s presence in general just gets Rick activated. Every part of her is a feast to him. 👌🏽

gif cred: @msanonships

And that last kiss just felt like they were about as ready to be intimate as they've ever been. After all that pulling each other closer in the previous kisses of this miniseries, this was the moment of them wanting to be as physically connected as possible and now they finally had the space to be.

Interestingly, they film a lot of this kissing moment where you mostly see Michonne’s response to Rick. I think that’s because she’s the one having to make the decision right now on whether she’ll let him in after everything he's said and done. And um I think her decision is clear.

gif cred: @msanonships

It's great how Rick is the one person who can make Michonne let go and get fully lost in the moment no matter what else is going on. And you know she has that same effect on Rick too. 👌🏽

I love how locked in they both get with that third kiss and how they turn things up a notch with it.

Those three kisses were communication. And, on top of them both communicating 'I need you and want you bad' in each kiss, the way I interpret the wordless conversation is that the first kiss was like Rick expressing, “I’m glad you’re okay and that you’re back” after the whole Michonne walking out and then later getting trapped by that chandelier stuff.

gif cred: @nat111love

Then that second kiss felt like Rick expressing, "I'm sorry" and Michonne receives that unspoken apology even tho when she looks at him there's a part of her that feels like there's still a lot for them to address and resolve.

gif cred: @lousolversons

And then y'all, to me Rick's little reach down with the third kiss was him saying, “Can I make it up to you?” And honey, Michonne's response said she'll definitely let him.

gif cred: @lousolversons

So then they really want to turn it up a notch when Rick proceeds to pick Michonne up. And clearly he’s done this before because Michonne is ready for it, and I love the way they just seamlessly transition into this. 😍

One thing I never questioned is if Rick would feel anxious about loving on Michonne with one hand. I knew that man would be like as long as I’m breathing that’s all I need to find a way.

gif cred: @nat111love

So Rick picks her up with ease and he’s basically just like 'alright you’re coming with me' and Michonne is like yes I am lol. And I also adore how even once he picks her up they immediately go right back to passionately kissing. The way these two fervidly desire each other is always 👩🏽‍🍳💋.

And I, of course, have to reflect on the overall journey once more because I just love that we went from Rick picking Michonne up on Day One of meeting each other as strangers, to now Rick picking Michonne up as husband and wife ready and eager to express their love in a way they haven't been able to in a long time.

gif cred: thewalkingdeadgifs/@msanonships

Seeing Rick and Michonne just get to operate fully in their husband and wife energy here was great to see. 👏🏽 They crave each other deeply and this scene captured that perfectly. ❤️‍🔥

The way their electrifying kisses slowly ramped up, it was clear that now that Rick and Michonne finally had the chance to reconnect in a way that they hadn't been able to with each other, nor allowed themselves to with anyone else, for several years, there was no way they were gonna just stop at these kisses here.

gif cred: @lousolversons

So y’all, this scene alone was already so hot it could break a temperature controller...but then the steamy sensual vibes continue. And as Richonne is finally intimate for the first time in years, the deep, passionate, and emotional moment is, in every way, a roller coaster ride. 🎢 😌👌🏽

[corinthianism]

DON'T THEY KNOW? (IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD) || BENEDICT BRIDGERTON (1)

pairing: benedict bridgerton/fem!reader additional tags: zombie apocalypse au, graphic depictions of gore/violence, fluff, angst, biology stuff i just made up so it's probs super inaccurate lol, slow burn, friends to lovers summary: ravaged by a relentless virus, the world as you knew it falls into ruin. survivors are hardened by the blood on their hands and the horrors in their minds. amidst the end of everything, benedict proves that there is still hope, and perhaps something more, for the two of you. word count: 6.4k

author's note: welcome to the first part of my new zombie au series with our boy benedict! for those who don't know, this is based entirely on the fic "i'll be seeing you" by @eleanor-bradstreet! thanks again to them for letting me vomit up this fic based on their incredible one <333 anyway, this chapter is mostly exposition, so most of the benedict/you romance will really start in the succeeding parts. hopefully, you find this chapter interesting enough to stick around! (+for readers of my dean winchester series, don't worry! chapter 3 will come out soon!)

masterlist | series masterlist | ao3 | next chapter

CHAPTER ONE: HERE, IN THE END

The world had been so loud before.

The droning noise of traffic. Of the intermingling of a thousand phone calls, nestled in between cheeks and shoulders. Of people talking at each other, screaming over each other, fighting to get the final say in even the tiniest little thing. Everything blurred together into one great ocean of sound. You could drown in it, especially in the big cities.

You were right in the middle of it all: a drifter. It took a while but eventually, that ocean of sound became your home. You struggled to recall what it was like before that. That too, was blurry now along with everything else from Before. All you had now were fading fragments of a dream to be someone. Anyone.

That was how you met him, just before the beginning of the end. You still weren’t convinced that Benedict Bridgerton wasn’t some kind of romance novel character come to life; a talented artist from a long line of English nobility, and the first friend you ever made in New York. It was like something out of a crappy Hallmark movie. He laughed at your reaction upon learning that his brother was an actual viscount and that Benedict himself technically should be referred to as “the Honourable Benedict Bridgerton”, but despite all the grandeur that came with his heritage, Benedict was still… Benedict. In time, he became just Ben. He’d paint while you ranted about your borderline dangerous work hours or how your parents were bugging you to settle down. In turn, he shared with you his frustrations as an artist trying to make it in the world, without his family name, and how at the same time he missed his mother’s cooking. Conversations with him were always lovely, like breathing in the air in the middle of a field of flowers after a decade of being locked inside a dark, stuffy room. He was just like you. Just trying to be someone.

But those conversations all seemed so far away now. If you had known then what would become of your life, of those dreams to be someone, maybe you would’ve just let yourself drown in that ocean of sound. 

It only took two weeks for the world to fall into ruin. Only fourteen days for everything to go up in flames. 

The virus was ruthless. The most efficient killer the likes of which no one had ever seen. A terrifying force of nature seemingly tailored for the extinction of humanity. You were right in the middle of it all. You saw it with your own eyes, a cluster of people beginning to form in Times Square. With New York being New York, you thought nothing of it. You walked away none the wiser.

Until you heard someone scream, a gut-wrenching, visceral scream, followed by a sound you would never forget. A sound you’d have to hear over and over again for the better part of the next ten years, though you didn’t know it yet at the time: teeth ripping flesh from bone and the primal snarls accompanying it that couldn’t have been anything except inhuman. Monstrous, even. It sent ripples into the great big ocean you called home, altering it so permanently just seconds before you even realized what was happening. 

Sound, quickly followed by sight. 

The people huddled on the outer edges of the crowd ran off in terror, revealing the gruesome remains of what used to be a person. Even that was something you barely registered at first, eyes too focused on the bloody mouths feasting on it and white, foggy eyes. One of those things stopped its chewing, head snapping up suddenly. It sniffed the air for a while, as if sensing your fear even from twenty feet away. Those white eyes were looking at you now. Staring you down. Seconds later, the corpse being eaten started writhing back to life, or a perverted version of it. Its jaw was skewed, perpetually stuck wide open as drool and blood ran down its chin. You weren’t someone then. If your body hadn’t gone into autopilot, legs taking you as far away as they could, you would’ve been one of them. That was the very first day of what would be the longest two weeks of your life. You remembered it well.

There was no time to think or breathe. Even when your chest hurt from overexerting yourself and your lungs screamed for a break, you ran. You ran as fast as you could, crashing into people, some of which were still unaware of the horrors spreading just a block away from them. In the corner of your eyes, you knew that there were others like you, scrambling to go home, to go anywhere but here. Cars stopped in the middle of the road, curiosity killing the cat as drivers left their vehicles to see what was going on, only to be met with the same sight you were: death. In only a few minutes, nearly a third of the people on the streets were running, too. 

A little girl cried in her father’s arms, a teddy bear left behind and forgotten on the cement road as they also tried to get away. The realization dawning on the faces of onlookers that they should be doing the same. 

You reached your apartment building, not really knowing what you would do next, just that you needed to get away. The hallways were empty. A part of you hoped Ben was far, far away from here. A more selfish part of you hoped otherwise.

Supplies. You needed supplies. Food, clothes, water. Emergency kit, tools, weapons. Weapons. You had no fucking idea what to do with any of this! Just yesterday, you held a steady, if not miserable, office job. Today, you had to survive against whatever-the-hell those things were and perhaps even other people. The weight of that sudden realization twisted your guts in a sickening way, enough to make you almost throw up.

Peeking through your blinds, there were already three or four ambulances rushing to the direction of Times Square.Those things were not here yet and still, you naively hoped that help would come and dispatch of them before it got out of control. 

You barely noticed the sweat that began to trickle down your forehead and back, hairs raising out of instinct. Your whole body was going into overdrive, hyper-aware of the fact that you were in danger. 

The rapid knocking on your door nearly frightened you to death, until you heard Ben’s desperate calls of your name. Out of breath and scared… much like you. You wondered if he had seen it, too. When you confirmed through the peephole that it was, in fact, him, you dragged him inside your apartment. Your hands were on his face as soon as he was inside, needing to know that he was here, he was with you, he was alive. It seemed he had the same need, icy blue eyes taking you in with such an intensity you’d only ever seen when he was painting. It was easy to feel small under his gaze.

“Are you alright?” he breathed heavily, larger hands covering your own. 

You could only nod, the words stuck in your throat, “Did you- did you see-”

“I saw them,” he said, his composure faltering for a split second. “I saw them.”

You could hear more sirens outside, one after another, disrupting the ocean you had grown so familiar with. Louder and louder. 

“We need to leave, get out of New York,” he ran a hand through his hair, eyes moving wildly as he tried to come up with a plan. It was the Bridgerton in him: the bravery of his father, the gentleness of his mother. It didn’t need to be said out loud that the moment he saw those things, all he could think of was you. Getting to you and getting you safe. His only true friend in this city. It took all of fifteen minutes before you were out the door, nearly overwhelmed by the swarm of people all running away from Times Square. Ben held your hand tightly, and you did your best not to look behind you.

The sun was beginning to set, wrapping the city in a bright orange light. It felt ominous somehow, so unlike every other time you’d seen it. Like this was some form of judgment. As if at any moment, you’d hear the seven trumpets telling you that this was the end. You learned later on that you weren’t the only one that thought that. Bile threatened to rise in your throat when the shadows of night grew with each passing second. It felt like it was going to swallow you alive.

The road was packed full of people, crying and yelling and praying for salvation. Ants begging to get away from the magnifying glass only to be burned anyway.

The screams grew louder and against your better judgment, you looked back. You were too far away to see everything clearly, and because Ben was constantly pulling you forward, but you could make out the smaller swarm of walking corpses slowly coming into view. The poor souls who weren’t able to keep up with the main crowd were dragged away to be bitten, spreading the godforsaken disease. More and more bodies littered the streets, staining the concrete with the blood of dozens. Then, not even a minute later, they would rise with jaws gnashing and wide white eyes, their humanity lost forever.

Your legs felt so heavy, as did the rest of you. If it weren’t for Ben’s ferocious determination to get out of the city and to keep the both of you safe, you wouldn’t have survived that first day at all. Helicopters flew above and across the city, the whooshing of its blades mingling with the screams. The ocean of sound was threatening to drown you. You didn’t look up anymore. It would’ve shattered you if you had, because you knew there weren’t nearly enough choppers to save everyone in the city. It was impossible. Your heart broke for all the people, all the someones, who were dead long before they could even fight for the chance to live.

The sky was dark now.

By some miracle, you reached the army’s barricade. Soldiers ushered people to safety, including you and Ben. You squeezed his hand, causing him to look at you for a moment. A temporary reprieve from that day’s horrors. His fair skin was shiny with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead like black tendrils. It was like everything slowed down, but maybe it was all just in your head. His chest rose and fell, rose and fell, rose and fell. The moment was cut short when you heard an explosion from behind you. Your head snapped to the direction of the noise, so did Ben’s, and the “small swarm” of the undead from before had multiplied to thrice its size in the short few minutes you spent running away. 

Gunfire rang in your ears once the monsters got a little too close for the army’s liking, but the crowds of the living and the undead had already begun to mix by that point. Bullets meant to pierce rotting flesh ended up killing people who were very much alive and uninfected. You could only watch, from behind the barricade of soldiers, the people in the perpetually moving crowd who would stop once they realized their loved ones were no longer beside them. You could only watch when the body of a child (belonging to the same little girl you saw earlier that day, you realized grimly) was forcefully torn from the arms of her father when a soldier spotted the bite mark on her leg, bleeding and angry. Her plump, tear-stained cheeks that were once symbols of her youth and innocence were ruined by a sickly green that rose to the surface, emphasizing violet veins that always looked like it was crawling, spreading just underneath the skin. Then, she was one of them. Writhing, bones cracking. There was no recognition in her cloudy eyes when her father begged for his baby girl to come back to him. 

Ben held you tighter, his hand cradling your head as the other soldiers evacuated as many people as they could.

“We need to go,” he pleaded, still firmly holding on to you as you were both pushed around by the crowd. “Please, love, just look at me.”

So you did. Those eyes, brilliant and blue and full of worry, were the only things that pulled you back down to Earth. Tears were shed and prayers were whispered on the chopper that whisked you away from New York. A couple hundred feet into the air, you could see the city crumble. You remembered briefly wondering how many bodies were left behind or how many turned into one of those things.  

Everything changed in those first fourteen days of the Outbreak. Eighty percent of the world’s population had been wiped out, unprepared to face a force so vicious. That was how effective the virus was, which was later dubbed the “Gaia Virus”. Mother Nature’s wrath.

The survivors in the States were brought to “safe zones” all over the country, areas barren and isolated enough that the Infected, which mostly stayed in the previously overpopulated cities and towns, were unlikely to get to them. The first few months after the Outbreak were spent being transferred to different safe zones, never staying for more than a week at a time.  

At first, the safe zones were supposed to be a temporary refuge for survivors. The government, or what was left of it, promised to reclaim the cities within a year and make them habitable again. Then a year passed, and they said it would take them another year. So another year passed and they said the same thing. Over and over until… radio silence. No one brought it up again. The few who did were not treated kindly by the rest of the survivors. 

Most people caught onto the memo fairly quickly, with soldiers and generals making up the new leadership hierarchy of the safe zones in place of politicians and peacemakers: you keep your head down, you do as you’re told, and you’ll get food and water and blankets.

The people brave (or stupid) enough to make a scene were never heard from again by the next week.

So there you were, moving across the country, going from state to state and living off of food rations and hope. Both were two resources that were steadily depleting. Benedict was there with you through it all, your steadfast companion. Conversations about surrealism and horrible bosses turned into questions about whether or not your friends and families were safe, if they had made it to the safe zones. That was the first time you saw him cry, not able to withstand the possibility that his beloved mother and siblings were gone, perhaps now part of the Infected. Even if they survived, he knew there was a slim chance he would ever see them again. He cursed himself sometimes, him and his foolish need to be someone. If he had stayed in Kent, if he just settled down like his brothers, perhaps he would still be with them today. But his mother was the kindest woman he had ever known and he knew deep down that she forgave him long before he realized what he’d done. He knew they all did.

Grief was your (and Ben’s) constant state of being. It weighed you down on most days, making your feet dig deeper into the dirt when you walked. On some days, it was all-consuming. It was the only reason most survivors rarely caused any trouble. As horrible as humans could be to each other, this shared grief that echoed through the hearts of everyone was translated into little acts of kindness that, at the best of times, were life-saving. To be given a drop of water by a woman dying of thirst. To be offered a piece of bread by a man whose stomach rumbled louder than his voice. More often than not, it was always the eldest survivors that did this. Perhaps it was because they knew that they had already lived long, fulfilling lives. Perhaps it was because they knew Death was already at their door, so they might as well help someone else live.

Of course, there would always be people looking out for themselves, you and Ben had expected that from the get go, but it still surprised you how much compassion a person could still have at the end of the world. It didn’t happen too often though, but the times that it did were memories you held close to your heart.

The days went by, often cruel and unforgiving to those who couldn’t adjust to the new reality, but Ben still found ways to make you smile. 

“It’s the artist in me,” he said to you one night, three years after the Outbreak, when you had asked him how he could bear to still be so… him. There was a secluded spot you two often escaped to whenever there was a need for it, a small cliff at the edge of the safe zone. You were both slightly tipsy from whiskey you traded some radio parts for. “The whole world’s gone to shit and I can’t help but still find it somewhat beautiful. It’s like a movie, isn’t it? Two friends at the end of the world— and besides, what else are we supposed to do? Wallow in self-pity? I think you and I do enough of that.”

The sun was beginning to set, something you had grown to dislike since that first day. You decided to lie down for a moment, uncaring if bits of soil got in your hair. You closed your eyes, trying to just be. You didn’t always get the opportunity to do that anymore.

“Look,” he nudged your side after a while, his accent slurring a little as he pointed at something. You raised a brow at him, now-open eyes following what his finger was pointing at. The sky. It was pitch black, but a splash of stars covered the heavens like a mural. You had never seen that many stars before, certainly not in the cities you’d lived in your whole life. Ben sighed and your attention was back on him. “You couldn’t see them as clearly back home, but I used to stargaze often with my siblings.”

“That sounds lovely,” you whispered.

“It was.”

The two of you were silent for a while, just sitting on that patch of dirt, overlooking the vast lands that spread as far as the eye can see. That was how isolated these safe zones were. The gentle night breeze tickled your skin. 

“I haven’t really looked at the sky properly since the Outbreak,” you confessed, slumping in your seat. “I think it makes me feel small. And sad. Look at us. Our tiny little planet, how fucked up everything is. Look at us. And there’s a whole universe out there that’s completely indifferent to everything that goes on down here.”

“It’s humbling,” he hummed in understanding. “To be a speck in a great big universe yet feeling a whole universe worth of emotion.”

“That’s good,” you chuckled. “Very poetic.”

He grinned at you, cheeks flushed slightly, “I try.”

Another bout of silence.

“Thank you, by the way.” 

“Whatever for, love?” he raised a brow in curiosity, his tone soft. It always was.

“For being here,” you took a deep breath. “For sticking around.”

His smile shone brighter when he heard this, his hand finding its way around yours. “You’d be mad to think I’d ever leave you here. If anything, you’re stuck with me. I’m just—” he cleared his throat. “I’m just sorry that… that it has to be like this. Drifting, never staying too long in one place to be able to call it a home. You deserve more. You deserve better.”

“You say that like it’s your fault,” your hand squeezed his in hopes of bringing him some comfort. “I’m not gonna lie and say we’re doing alright because we honestly look like shit”—that earned you a hearty chuckle from him—”but we’re doing better than most. And that’s because we’ve had each other all this time. That’s one of the things I was thanking you for. None of this on you, Ben. You deserve more, too. You hear me?”

He straightened his back and flashed you a soft smile, “I hear you.”

The two of you looked back up at the sky, admiring the twinkling of millions of stars. You were somewhere in Arizona, according to the other survivors. Soldiers kept the exact location under lock and key to dissuade survivors from sharing it with others who were still out in the open world. There just wasn’t enough room. But you had a feeling that it had more to do with the risk of attracting Infected. Limited armada and manpower meant the military was just unable to handle that kind of scenario.

You learned more about the Infected over time, having worked odd jobs for the military for more food, water, or supplies. Even something as simple as filtration duty on Tuesdays earned you tidbits of information.

From what you could piece together in the past couple of years, the Gaia Virus most likely came from melting glaciers and ice caps, triggered by global warming. It polluted bodies of water across the world, eventually making its way into reservoirs undetected. It was the perfect way to spread. Nobody can last more than three days without water, so the virus made sure no one would last at all. Once fully turned, Infected were nearly perfect killers. Soldiers sometimes told stories of their encounters with them. They were completely blind, though that much was obvious from the milkiness of their eyes. Infected also didn’t react to any physical damage done to them. Whether or not they felt it was a different story. With possibly two of their senses out of the picture, the rest were heightened. They could hear and smell better than people. If prey were close enough, all those things had to do was follow the scent trail. The fact that these monsters could perceive things humans could barely register was a terrifying thought.

Bodies of Infected retrieved from the destroyed cities were studied, Ben himself had seen this on one such odd job. The virus kills its host before taking over the body, this much was known. However, the brain was shown to endure, preventing the more advanced stages of decomposition. It raised questions about whether or not hosts really died, or if a tiny part of them still lived on even as they transformed into flesh-eating beasts. You’ve heard whispers that it was more like the brain sent constant streams of adrenaline even after death, keeping the body going long after it was supposed to fall apart and rot. True or not, it was the only explanation you had.

You’d seen your fair share of people who’ve fallen victim to a bite; doomed to have their life snuffed out as soon as that was discovered, whether that was by execution or dying to the virus. 

The time it took to die after being bitten was different for everyone. Some died within minutes, others within hours. The longest one you’d seen was a soldier brought back to the Detroit safe zone after a patrol gone wrong. A stray Infected had sensed him and attacked him during the night, leaving a massive bite on his shoulder. He fought so fiercely against the symptoms of the fever, hovering between life and death for nearly an entire day before finally succumbing to the virus. You couldn’t forget how pale he was when he was wheeled into the makeshift camp on a gurney, watching the life be drained out of him in real time. He was shot in the head by his comrades as soon as he turned. The event shook everyone. The disappearances began shortly after that.

The people who spoke up against the military drew the ire of everyone: the military didn’t tolerate people who questioned their authority and everyone else just wanted to mind their own business. When these undesirables began to disappear, everyone chalked it up to them just being hard-headed. The popular theory was they got sick of the military’s iron grip and decided to leave the safe zone, and then probably died. Nobody took it too seriously. Nobody could have done anything about it anyway. Everyone was just focused on staying alive. 

Cooper was another survivor in the Arizona safe zone. You and Ben had been there for a month, and he was the first and only person to welcome you with open arms. He was a lanky man, and had blond hair and kind, brown eyes. Only a few years younger than you. He was the jovial type, often inviting you and Ben to tag along with him on whatever job he found earlier that day. His Boston accent was unmistakable, often getting stronger when offered liquor. 

He was also in strong opposition to the militant lifestyle in the safe zones, though he knew better than to broadcast his distaste. Cooper joined you and Ben on the night the two of you were stargazing, eyes wide in terror. You had never seen him like that before. He was always one to stay optimistic, which was a wonder considering the state of the world. Cooper looked like he ran to get to you, his damp tattered shirt sticking to his body.

He grabbed you by your shoulders, fingertips digging into your skin deep enough to make you wince all while a jumble of words were frantically spewing out of his mouth. Ben immediately got up, nearly growling at Cooper for hurting you, “Get your hands off them.”

It seemed as though Ben’s warning briefly snapped Cooper back to reality, because the man did pull away but his hands still trembled violently.

“What’s wrong?” you furrowed your brows in worry, unused to seeing Cooper in such a state.

“You need to get out of here,” it felt like there was something darker lingering behind his words. He looked at Ben. “You need to go.”

“Hold on, hold on,” Ben cut him off, his protectiveness from before calming down when he finally noticed the genuine panic and fear in Cooper’s eyes. “Tell us what’s happening.”

The poor man looked like he was ready to explode right then and there. He was practically soaked in his own sweat, both from the exhaustion of running to get to you and Ben, and the shock of the news he brought, it seemed.

“They were taking them,” he choked back tears, his feet stuck to the ground. His nostrils were flaring from how hard he was breathing.

“Who, Coop? Who’s taking who?” this time it was your hands on his shoulders, though your touch was gentle, trying to keep him grounded. 

“The soldiers,” he whispered, his voice grim. “We- we thought they were executing them for questioning the army but I saw them! I saw them. In the big tent. They’re trying… they’re trying to make a vaccine.”

The severity of his tone reminded you all too much of Ben at your doorstep on that very first day of the Outbreak.

Ben’s surprise was palpable, “What?”

“A vaccine,” Cooper stressed, each breath he drew was ragged (you could hear it from how close he was standing to you), “but it’s not working. I saw the bodies. Whatever they’re doing, it’s torture— you should’ve seen them. They infected them on purpose.”

Your blood went cold, like liquid nitrogen shocking your system. That’s what the army had been doing all this time?  It made perfect sense, but the new information flooded your brain with images of those people who went missing, strapped to a table, and being injected with the virus. If they were trying to make a vaccine, they—the test subjects—would have to have been kept alive for as long as possible, conscious of the parasite invading their body. It made your stomach churn, forcing you to step back and look away. Ben was similarly devastated, jaw clenched as he stared at Cooper. He zeroed in on a different piece of information.

There were Infected in the safe zone.

“That’s… they can’t just keep taking people,” he gritted his teeth. Cooper stayed silent. Ben spoke again, firmer and more desperate this time, “...can they?”

“Nobody’s gonna come looking for you even if they did,” Cooper said, defeated. Still breathing hard. “We’re too far away. And if the rest of the safe zones aren’t already in the same situation then they aren’t gonna waste gas to go all the way here. The soldiers here can just make up something and no one would know.”

An “oh, God” left your lips, your hands shaking, mirroring Cooper’s. From where you stood, you could see the main camp and the largest tent, the main military tent, in the middle of it. You’ve walked past it, stared at it a hundred times, and never knew what was going on inside. You found yourself asking if there was a time when you stared at that tent, and just on the other side was someone just like you being experimented on with the deadliest virus known to mankind.Your eyes stung with tears when your treacherous mind thought of Ben in that position, bruised by different needles and tubes protruding from him.

“Please, you need to go,” Cooper pleaded with the two of you desperately, his head hanging low.

“Shit,” Ben cursed under his breath, rubbing his eyes with one hand in frustration. “All of our supplies are back in the main camp.” 

“You can’t go back!”

“We’ll die out there if we don’t get those supplies,” you pointed out to the blond. “We wouldn’t last a week.”

Ben had already begun to walk back to camp, masking his anxieties to the best of his abilities if what Cooper was saying was true. You weren’t that far behind, ears ringing with Cooper’s pleas not to go back. He didn’t chase after you anymore, falling silent once he realized there was nothing he could do to change your mind. It was only a short trek from the cliff back to the main camp. The outer perimeter of the safe zone was always being patrolled by soldiers which meant, without any weapons, you would’ve been dead if you tried to escape right away. A checkpoint came into view along with the two guards, Paul and Walter, holding rifles on either side of the path. You were familiar with each other from how often you passed through this checkpoint to get to the cliff.

“Paul, Walter,” Ben smiled coolly at the guards once you were finally standing in front of them. “Late shift? I thought you’d have switched with Reese by now.”

“Higher-ups needed more men in other places, so here we are,” Paul sighed, before turning his attention to you. “You guys back at the cliff again?”

“Yeah,” you mimicked Ben, feigning a smile of your own. You still weren’t completely sure if Cooper had been telling the truth, but interacting with Paul felt different now that you knew what could’ve been happening behind closed doors. “Camp can be a little too much sometimes, y’know? No offense. Just… needed to get away for a while.”

Paul nodded in understanding. 

“Okay, you know the routine,” Walter shrugged, handing you and Ben a bloodchecker each. It was a small vial full of a blue solution, connected to a thin, replaceable tube ending with a needle. The solution would turn clear if mixed with Gaia-infected blood, and a dark muddy brown if the blood was clean. You pierced your arm with the needle, watching your blood travel through the tube and drip down into the solution, turning it brown as you had expected. Glancing over at Ben’s bloodchecker, you found that his was the same. Thankfully.

You were about to pass through the checkpoint when Walter pulled Ben aside, muttering something you couldn’t quite make out, but you saw Ben’s reaction. To anyone else, it would have seemed like he didn’t react at all. Most people only would’ve noticed his polite smile and hushed ‘thank you” to the guard before returning to your side, but you saw through it: the slightest twitch of his hand and the way his lips tightened at what Walter told him. It was so clear to you that he was bothered by it, whatever it was. 

“What was that?” you asked him, trying to keep up with his fast-paced stride.

He only spared you a single glance, only a single moment of softness, but now you were inside the central safe zone. Soldiers were standing guard in every direction. There seemed to be more of them than usual. Ben continued forward to the direction of your tent which was a bit farther from everyone else’s. He kept his voice low, “Not here.”

Your shared tent with Ben was bare. The apocalypse didn’t exactly grant you a life of luxury, but that tent was yours. It stayed the same after every new safe zone you were transferred to. Next to the two worn down single mattresses were your backpacks, one of the only things you still had from before the Outbreak besides each other. While you double-checked your supplies, making sure nothing was missing while you were gone, Ben slid one of the mattresses to the side, which was sitting on top of an old rug. He pulled that aside too, his hands digging into the soil, digging and digging until finally, you could see the lid of a crate you had buried.

The crate was filled with jugs of water. Clean, pure, uninfected water. The result of three years of patiently collecting rainwater and saving up whatever the army gave you, carefully filtering each drop throughout the night when you knew no one else would be bothering you. This water was precious. It was gold. And it was a pain to move from safe zone to safe zone. You and Ben had had to resort to bribing and lying for the past three years to make sure it was safe. 

Once you were done checking over the supplies, you knelt by Ben’s side. “So… are you gonna tell me what Walter said to you or are you gonna keep being mysterious?” you tried to keep your tone light.

“They were looking for Cooper,” his gaze didn’t leave the jugs of water. His hands, once always covered in paint, were now caked in dirt. “Said we should report him if we did.”

“What?” you questioned. “That doesn’t make any sense, everyone has to go in and out of that checkpoint to get to the cliff. There’s no way Paul and Walter didn’t see him.”

“So how could he have seen all of those supposed experiments in the main tent?” he turned to face you, his expression severe. “That tent is the most heavily guarded thing in this camp. If what he said is true, then there was no way he could’ve left and not be spotted and then somehow manage to get to us without going through the checkpoint.” 

The two of you sat in silence for a while, racking your brains for any sort of information that could help you get closer to solving this mystery. It was entirely plausible that Cooper had been lying about the experimentations and the vaccines but despite having only known him for a short while, you knew he wasn’t the type to do something like that. He wouldn’t lie about something like that. Hell, he was the kind of person that worked overtime during the apocalypse. He was an honest man.

Then you remembered something.

“It’s Tuesday today.”

Ben looked at you, puzzled, “Yes, it is… What’s going through your head, love?”

“Filtration duty,” you answered. “They filter out the water in the main tent…”

“...then dump the waste outside of camp,” Ben finished for you, eyes widening. “You think Cooper was in the main tent on purpose?”

“I mean, that’s the only explanation, right? Nothing else has left camp since last week and nobody checks a truck carrying waste. Maybe Cooper was on one of those trucks,” you said before looking back at Ben. “I… I thought I was just seeing things. Did you notice how he was earlier?”

“Out of breath from running…?” Ben frowned, not quite following your train of thought as easily as he usually did.

“He wasn’t just out of breath. He was smelling me.” 

You could practically hear the cogs turning in his head as he put the pieces together. He couldn’t quite believe the conclusion he arrived at, that much you could tell, but the disbelief washed away when no other possible explanation presented itself to him.

“How?” his voice was shaky, a quiet sort of devastation clouding his features. Cooper was likely already infected earlier, though you couldn’t tell which stage of infection he was at. The signs pointed to a peculiar middleground between the fever that occurred right before death, and the grotesque reanimation once the virus had complete control over the body.

“Maybe he was telling the truth. Part of it, at least.”

You both looked back at the jugs of water, taking out a few of the smaller containers before hurriedly placing the lid back on the crate. With the crate concealed by the soil and rug, you and Ben made quick work of gathering your things, hiding the small jugs of water underneath clothes, foods, and whatever else were in your bags. 

You always made sure to have a plan in case you ever needed to leave a safe zone. The water you collected was too valuable; you had to be able to move it whenever and wherever you needed, but with all the soldiers standing guard outside, you knew this would be impossible even with all of your planning. You just had to bring what you could.

Without uttering a word, you and Ben both knew this was the last night you were ever going to spend in this place. 

-

series taglist: comment down below if you'd like to be added!

[domokunrainbowkinz]

sorry for manhwa-posting guys it's not gonna stop

u kno wat I may as well give my thoughts on some of the ones I read:

semantic error - classic, everyone knows it, despite me being lukewarm about it it has some moments that made me go WAOUUGGHH.....nice, low-stakes fun read but if u hate miscommunication u r gonna have a bad time. the art is Very good though.

concubine walkthrough - EVERYONE SHOULD READ THIS NOW!!!!! villainess transmigration story with chinese-style court politics, discussions about AI, VR, reality vs dream, and a plot twist at the end that makes you go AOUUGHGBGB!!!!! it made me ugly cry twice!!! READ IT NOW!!!!!!

lost in the cloud - currently ongoing, I stayed up till 7am reading this one. it starts off light and then hits u with The Trauma hammer and reveals its true colours (2 dudes dealing with The Horrors and being absolutely not normal about it). it deals with very heavy topics like bullying, SA, CSA, abusive parents, like these kids cannot catch a break. the characters are really well written and believable, their interactions are so raw and painful at times. I am obsessed. I need them to be happy or im going to cry. it really isn't for the faint of heart, I'm not one to be fazed by heavy topics in fiction but I felt so anxious during some chapters, like the way the scenes are depicted and drawn are so visceral. I also gotta say the art is BANGING.

dreaming of the dokkaebi (18+) - currently ongoing, VERY promising so far. I am a hoe for modern-day supernatural romance, especially when there's reincarnation shenanigans involved. there's a lot going on between the 2 leads and I love the incorporation of korean mythology and exorcism in the worldbuilding aouuggh...literally my cup of tea.

how to refuse the route - lighthearted low-stakes otome isekai where the protagonist is trying his absolute darnedest to NOT romance any of the characters (he is failing). It's pretty unserious fun, and I also love the ML in this one. pls give me more fucked up little guys. the story is starting to go in an interesting direction tho and I'm curious to see how it ends.

the guild member next door - very light unserious fun, basically what if ur online friend/crush that u met in a game is ur neighbour, but you never met irl so u don't know that?? it goes hard on the in-game mechanics and spends a lot of time building up the in-game friendship before starting to delve into the irl relationship. it's a slow burn and brother I am here for it.

netkama punch - this situation is something you'd read on aita reddit and think to yourself "there's something definitely wrong with both of you and I hope you don't involve anyone else in whatever the fuck is going on between you 2". it's so wacky and funny, definitely not one to take super seriously.

love in orbit (18+) - I originally read this bc there's a tall hot alien mommy in it, but the actual story is actually quite sweet. I also love the way the artist draws bodies in this one, for once the proportions don't make go "brother eughh". it's pretty light and low-stakes, but I was surprised by the discussions on loneliness and parental neglect/abuse that were a throughline in this series. the sex scenes are 🔥🔥

tears on a withered flower (18+) - still pretty early in serialization but I'm already so interested in where this is going homegirl needs to throw her entire husband out!!! an illustration of how an abusive relationship can wear a person down and eat away at them. seriously I hope she and her new man beat the shit out of her husband.