#quick reminder: This au is my own zombie apocalypse and not the one you see on the YouTube | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nhaaauyen · 4 months ago

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⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)

PART II: MY HEART DREAMS

zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.

series masterpost: part I // part III // part IV // part V // part V

wc: 7.1k author's note: ahhh tysm to everyone reading!!! your comments literally make my day and the taglist DAMN!! seriously I'm so grateful <3 also i apologize for this chapter being so long, i tried to stfu but it still ended up being 7k

One thing you should've realized sooner was that nothing escapes Sevika's notice in Zaun.

You were barely a week into your new routine, legs burning as you struggled through your morning run. The only sound you could hear was of blood pounding in your ear—and the addition of a rumbling engine approaching from behind.

You whip your head back, unsure if your ears were deceiving you but there it was, a truck filled with Sevika's scavenging team catching up, with Sevika herself leaning out the passenger window.

"Pick up the pace, pantry girl!" she shouted, her voice laden with amusement. "At this rate, you'll be old and gray before you join my team!"

Her crew howled with laughter as they sped by, leaving you red-faced and fuming in a cloud of dust.

Now, weeks later, you collapse onto the grass beside Caitlyn, both of you panting heavily after finishing your lap around the neighborhood. The memory of Sevika's taunts still burns, spurring you to push yourself harder during training.

Just as you're about to ask if you should do another lap, something ice-cold presses against your neck. You yelp, jerking upright in surprise.

A dark-haired woman hovers over you, a familiar smirk playing on her lips and a frosty water bottle in her hand. "Still jumping at shadows, I see," she teases. "I'm not sure I can use someone so easily startled on my team."

You glare up at her. "That's rich, coming from you," you retort. "Your late-night victory parties make it impossible to get a good night's sleep around here."

"Feeling left out? The invitations open, you know. Just bring your own drink."

"How about an invitation to join your team instead?" You counter.

Sevika laughs, the sound was simultaneously frustrating and oddly captivating. "Maybe focus on not tripping over your own feet first, pantry girl."

After you finish your training for the day, you take a quick shower and make your way to the pantry for your shift. But as you approach, you notice something odd - your name isn't on the schedule. Again.

"That's the third time this week," you mutter.

Caitlyn notices your confusion. "Maybe they're cutting back on hours?" she suggests, but her tone is uncertain.

With your unexpected free time, you find yourself spending more time with your makeshift family. Family dinners were something you always had, but for the first time you didn’t have to worry about where or what your next meal would be.

Powder chatters animatedly about her latest inventions, while Caitlyn asks questions that make the kid’s eyes go wild with excitement. Vi listens with a mix of amusement and pride, occasionally ruffling her sister's hair.

Vander sits at the head of the table and he interjects with the occasional piece of wisdom that makes Vi interrupt to remind him that they were too old for lectures or dad jokes, drawing laughter from the group.

As plates are cleared and the conversation winds down, Powder asks to star gaze again, which Vander wants to say no to when everyone has work tomorrow. But then he looks outside and he’s reminded that things weren’t the same, you could afford the leisure to enjoy the skies now.

So you all move to the roof, continuing your evening under the stars. Powder points out constellations, making up stories for each one. Vi playfully argues with her interpretations, while Caitlyn offers more scientific explanations. You lean back, taking in the moment, feeling truly at peace for the first time in a long while.

As the night deepens, drowsiness sets in. One by one, you bid each other goodnight and retreat to your beds.

Morning arrives sooner than you'd like and you meet Caitlyn early, both of you squinting against the bright sunlight as you make your way to the training grounds. The morning sun warms your face as you and Caitlyn wait on the grass for Grayson to arrive with your sparring partner. You're chatting idly, speculating about who it might be when you hear approaching footsteps.

Your eyes widen as you see Grayson walking towards you, but it's the figure beside her that makes your breath catch. Sevika strides across the field, her presence somehow always able to steal your attention. She's wearing dark wash jeans that hug her legs and a sleeveless, tight black tee that shows off her toned arms with her usual red shawl draping over her left side.

Grayson offers an apologetic smile as they reach you. "Sorry we're late. There was a situation to handle."

Sevika merely grunts, barely acknowledging you and Caitlyn. Your heart races—if she was here to watch you were so screwed, there was no way Sevika would let you have a match without her snarky comments.

"Marcus was supposed to be here today," Grayson explains, "but it seems he's... incapacitated."

You and Caitlyn exchange knowing looks. It's not the first time Marcus has been too drunk to show up, and frankly, you're relieved. Even when sober, he's a total ass.

"So... who are we sparring with?" you ask, though you have a sinking feeling you already know the answer.

Grayson gestures to Sevika. "Someone owes me a favor."

Sevika rubs her head, clearly annoyed. "Can we get this over with?" she grumbles.

Grayson chuckles. "She's just grumpy because she's hungover," she explains to you, then turns to Sevika with a raised eyebrow. "Which you wouldn't be if you didn't drink like it's water."

Sevika scowls, softly as she crosses her arms. "It's my day off," she retorts. "You never come to my parties."

"I drink on my own time," Grayson replies primly, adjusting her stance.

"You're too much of a goody two shoes," Sevika snorts, rolling her eyes.

You and Caitlyn look at each other in shock, from the fact that the two captains are bickering like siblings and they’re going to be sparring with Sevika.

"Sevika?" Caitlyn sputters. "You want us to spar Sevika?"

"It's better practice for you two - Sevika has years of fighting experience. You can learn some new techniques today," She reassures. "So, who's first?"

"I'll get it over with," Caitlyn acquiesced, her voice steady despite the nerves you can see in her eyes.

As Caitlyn approaches the sparring area, Sevika reaches for her shawl. In one swift motion, she removes it, and your eyes widen in shock. Where you expected to see flesh and bone, there's instead a gleaming bionic arm.

Intricate gears and pistons are visible beneath panels of transparent material, offering glimpses of the arm's inner workings. As Sevika flexes her fingers, you can see these components whirring and sliding with precision, each movement accompanied by a soft, almost musical hum.

Sevika doesn't react to the stares, her face stony as if this reveal is inconsequential. You feel a pang of guilt for gawking, but you can't help wondering - was this a war injury, or a result of the walkers?

Caitlyn recovers from her shock like you do, now both of you feeling more intimidated by the strength and skills of the woman before you. You watch as Sevika easily deflects Caitlyn's first attack, countering with a move so fast you barely see it. Caitlyn hits the ground hard, she barely has any time to react when Sevika strikes again.

"Come on, cupcake," Sevika taunts, using Vi's nickname for Caitlyn.

The use of the nickname catches both you and Caitlyn off guard and she narrowly dodges a punch. You had no idea how much Sevika had been paying attention to your group.

"Is that all you've got?" The captain says smugly.

As the sparring continues, you find yourself studying Sevika's every move. The way she anticipates Caitlyn's attacks, the efficiency of her counterstrikes, the subtle shifts in her stance.

But it's more than just her fighting skills that captivate you. It's the fierce concentration in her eyes, the slight smirk that plays on her lips when she lands a particularly good hit. It's the way her muscles flex as she moves, the sheen of sweat that forms on her skin under the hot sun.

You're so lost in your observations that you almost miss when Grayson calls an end to the match. Caitlyn is panting, bruised but not beaten, while Sevika looks barely winded.

"Your turn, rookie," Sevika calls out, her eyes locking with yours.

Sevika takes a menacing stance, her bionic arm whirring softly as she flexes her fingers. You try to quell your nerves, reminding yourself of all your training.

The match begins, and Sevika doesn't hold back. She lunges forward with a quick jab that you barely dodge. Her follow-up kick catches you in the side, and you stumble back.

"With those sparring skills, you'll be dead by now," Sevika taunts, circling you like a predator.

You regain your footing, countering with a series of quick strikes that force Sevika to step back. "As far as I'm concerned, I don't think any walkers would be punching me back anytime soon," you retort.

Sevika smirks, effortlessly blocking your attacks. "There are still survivors out there, some who might not be as merciful as me." she says, suddenly dropping low and sweeping your legs out from under you.

You hit the ground hard but roll quickly, narrowly avoiding Sevika's follow-up strike. "I’m only alive because you needed the meds.”

“But you’re alive regardless?” She counters.

“Urgh, you're the worst, you know that? You just like watching me suffer-"

Your words are cut off as Sevika charges forward. You manage to sidestep, grabbing her arm and using her momentum to throw her off balance. For a moment, you have the upper hand, landing a solid hit to her midsection.

Sevika grunts, a flash of surprise in her eyes. "Well, it's not a bad view," she quips, her voice slightly breathless.

You're holding your own better than you expected, your training with Grayson evident in your improved technique. You even manage to land a few solid hits, each one making you more hopeful that you could finally prove yourself to the captain.

But Sevika is still Sevika. Just when you think you might have a chance, she changes tactics. As she unleashes a flurry of lightning-fast strikes, you are able to block the first few, but the last one catches you off guard, sending you stumbling back.

Before you can recover, Sevika is on you. With a move so smooth it seems almost effortless, she sweeps your legs again and follows you down. You’re on the ground immediately, the air knocked from your lungs, and suddenly Sevika is on top of you, pinning you down.

Her face is inches from yours, her breath hot on your cheek. "There's always next time, pantry girl," she says, her voice laced with arrogance.

Fury and frustration surge through you—at the nickname, at losing, but most of all at yourself for the way your heart races at her proximity. You struggle against her hold, but it's futile—you lost and couldn’t prove you were ready.

The days blur into a haze of relentless training after the match, your body pushed to its limits. Yet despite your efforts, something feels off. Each time you miss a target or fumble a move, Sevika's face flashes in your mind. Your focus wavers, distracted by unnameable thoughts that surface whenever you recall her challenging gaze or the smugness in her voice.

The sharp crack of gunfire echoes across the makeshift shooting range. You squeeze the trigger, watching as your shot goes wide, missing the target by a good margin. Expaseration bubbles up inside you for missing yet again.

Next to you, Caitlyn's sniper barks and the center of her target explodes. Again. You can't help but feel a twinge of envy at her precision.

"Excellent shot, Caitlyn," Grayson praises, her eyes gleaming with approval. "I think I’m looking at my newest sniper."

Caitlyn beams at the compliment.

Grayson turns to you, her expression apprehensive. "Something on your mind? You seem distracted today."

"No, I'm fine," you mutter, trying to focus on the target in front of you.

Grayson raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Well, if you keep shooting like you did today, you can expect another month before Sevika would even consider accepting you on her team."

At the mention of Sevika's name, you can't help but frown. Grayson catches it immediately.

"What's wrong?" she probes, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

You hesitate, then the words tumble out. "I just... I don't get her. I don't know how to convince her I deserve that spot on the team when she's so infuriating and stubborn."

To your surprise, Grayson laughs, a warm, rich sound. "She hasn't changed since we were deployed together, then."

Your ears perk up at this. "You were deployed with Sevika? Can you tell me about it?"

Grayson shrugs. "What is there to tell? We were in the military together for 10 years and she's a brilliant soldier."

"That's all to her?" you press, not satisfied with such a simple answer.

Grayson gives you a long, appraising look. "What is it that you really want to know about her?"

The question catches you off guard. You open your mouth to respond, then close it again. What do you want to know? But more importantly, why do you want to know? You realize you don't have an answer, and the realization unsettles you.

Seeing your confusion, Grayson's expression softens. "Sevika is not the best fighter," she says quietly.

"What?"

Grayson chuckles at your expression. "Don't get me wrong, she's an advanced and skilled fighter. But she's not unbeatable." She pauses, her eyes distant as if recalling memories from long ago. "What makes her different... She is loyal and fierce. That woman fights till her very last breath. If she's going to hell, she'll drag you down with her."

Your mind whirs at this information. Who is Sevika beyond the soldier everyone knows her as? You find yourself hungry for more details, more glimpses into the woman behind the tough exterior.

Then you catch yourself, anger flaring up. Why do you care? Why does it matter who Sevika really is? She's just the leader of the scavenging team, nothing more.

You shake your head, trying to clear these thoughts. "Thanks, Grayson," you mutter, turning back to the target.

As you raise your gun again, you can feel Grayson's knowing gaze on you. You take a deep breath, trying to focus on the target. But in your mind's eye, all you can see is Sevika—her cocky grin, her ruthless determination, the mystery that surrounds her.

You squeeze the trigger, and this time, your shot flies true, hitting just off-center. Progress, but not perfection. Much like your understanding of Sevika, you realize. You're getting closer, but there's still so much more to uncover.

⁺��⋆｡°✩

A slight breeze rustles the leaves as you wait by the usual tree, checking your watch. Caitlyn's late, which isn't like her. You’ve been waiting for 20 minutes already and this was the Caitlyn, the one who’s never even been late to a shift at the pantry.

You’re about to turn back to the house when suddenly you hear shouting from the road a few blocks away. Without thinking, you immediately sprint towards the commotion.

When you arrived, the scene before you was the last thing you would expect—Caitlyn and Vi were in each other's faces, their voices rising with each exchange. A burly guy from Sevika's crew is half-heartedly trying to separate them.

"You fucking liar!" Caitlyn screams, her face flushed with anger. "Why would you join without telling me?"

You momentarily pause from trying to pull the fighting couple apart, in all the years you knew Caitlyn she had hardly cursed; Vi must’ve fucked up, bad.

Vi's stance is defensive, her hands raised. "It's safer for you this way!"

"Safer?" Caitlyn's laugh is bitter. "I didn't ask for a white knight, I asked for a partner that's honest!"

The guy from Sevika's crew steps between them. "Come on, ladies, this ain't the place-"

Caitlyn whirls on him. "How could you let her in Sevika’s group like this?"

He backs up, hands raised. “Listen, I had no part in this. Vi was the one who asked, and Sevika accepted her."

Caitlyn's face contorts with anger, and she lunges forward. You jump in, grabbing her arms. "Cait, stop!"

But as you hold her back, his words sink in. "Wait, WHAT?" You turn to Vi, shock evident on your face. "She accepted you to join her scavenging and not me?"

Vi looks away, guilt written across her features. Your blood boils. You release Caitlyn and round on the guy. "Where the HELL is she?"

He crosses his arms, defiant. "I don't have to answer to you."

You step closer, your voice low and dangerous. "Oh, trust me. You want to tell me."

He hesitates, then sighs. "Fine, but it's your funeral. She's in her garage."

Without another word, you turn on your heel and march away, leaving Caitlyn and Vi to their argument. You had your own annoying, lying woman to deal with.

The garage comes into view, its large door open. As you approach, you catch sight of Sevika bent over a motorcycle. Her back muscles flex as she works, visible beneath a black sports bra. Her jeans hang low on her hips, revealing the band of her boxers. For a moment, you were unable to comprehend the sight of Sevika in clothes that weren't military green.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before addressing her. "Vi and Caitlyn are out there fighting. I thought you should know."

She turns, surprise briefly flickering across her features before her trademark nonchalance slides back into place. "And that concerns me... how exactly?" she questions, wiping her hand with a rag. "Last I checked, I wasn't running a relationship counseling service."

"Because of all the bullshit you gave about me not being ready? Why won't you let me on the team?" you demand, your voice cracking with desperation. "You let Vi join. What makes her so special?"

"You don't know what you're asking for."

"Then tell me!" you shout, stepping closer. "I'm sick of your cryptic bullshit, Sevika. I deserve to know!"

Something in Sevika snaps—Her composure shatters, replaced by a raw, barely contained fury. "Fine? You want to know why?" She grabs your arm, her grip tight enough to bruise. "Let's go."

She drags you out of the garage, marching through the community with large strides. You struggle to keep up, confused and a little scared by this sudden change in her demeanor.

As you reach the outskirts of the settlement, Sevika slows down. You follow her gaze and feel your blood run cold. Wooden crosses stretch out before you, maybe 20 to 25 of them, each marking a grave.

"This is why," Sevika grits.

You stand there, frozen, as Sevika turns to face you. Her eyes are blazing, but there's something else there too - something melancholic you've never seen before.

"Do you know how many empty graves we have?" she asks, gesturing to the crosses. "It's a fortune if you're able to bring a body home, or if you can spend someone's last moments together."

She walks among the graves, her fingers trailing over the rough wood of a cross. "This is the type of thing we have to deal with. Every time we go out there, we risk not coming back. And if we don't come back, this is what's left of us. A wooden cross and a memory."

"I've had to bury too many people. I've had to tell too many families that their loved ones aren't coming home. And sometimes, I couldn't even give them that closure."

She turns back to you, her eyes now hard, and gone was the brief moment of vulnerability you saw before. "This is why I won't let you on the team. Because I can't... I won't add another cross to this field."

The weight of her words hits you like a physical blow. But instead of understanding, you feel a surge of anger.

"So what?" you snap, surprising both yourself and Sevika. "You keep me locked away like I'm Rapunzel in a tower? Look around, Sevika!" You gesture wildly at the desolate landscape beyond the settlement. "There is nothing left to lose. The world is gone!"

For a moment, she's silent, and you think you might have finally gotten through to her. But then her expression hardens, a bitter smile twisting her lips.

"You can say that," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "until you have the world in your hand and it's ripped away from you."

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You see a flash of something in Sevika's eyes - a deep, soul-crushing resignation that makes your anger falter.

"There is always something to lose," she continues. "And every time you think you have nothing left to lose, life finds a way to prove you wrong."

She steps closer to you. "You think you're ready to face what's out there? You think you have nothing to lose? Trust me, pantry girl, you have no idea what loss really is."

"What are you living for if you're constantly scared of losing?" you challenge, your voice rising. "This isn't living, Sevika. It's just... existing."

Sevika's eyes flash dangerously. "You don't understand-"

"No, you don't understand!" you interrupted, shoving her back. "We're all going to die—But I'd rather die out there, trying to do something I wanted, rather than rot away in here!"

You’re angry and you know you just provoked her but you can’t help but shove her back again, frustrated at her but, even more so at yourself. You were terrified, of fucking course you were—but who wasn’t in the world you were living in?

With a growl, she lunges forward, shoving you hard. You stumble back, shock and anger coursing through you. Without thinking, you retaliate, pushing Sevika with all your might.

The two of you grapple, a tangle of limbs and fury. Grass and dirt kick up around you as you roll on the ground, each trying to gain the upper hand. Sevika's bionic arm hisses as she tries to pin you down, but you're quicker, fueled by frustration and pent-up emotion.

With a burst of strength, you manage to flip Sevika onto her back. You straddle her waist, pinning her arms to her sides, which fall limp immediately. Both of you are panting heavily, faces flushed and hair disheveled.

"I won," you gasp out, your chest heaving. "You promised. If I could beat you, you'd let me join."

Sevika looks up at you, her expression unreadable. "When will you learn patience?"

The proximity is intoxicating, and for a moment, you're distracted by the feeling of Sevika beneath you, the rise and fall of her chest, the intensity in her eyes.

"You can't expect me to live like this," you insist, your voice softer now but no less passionate. "What are you living for if you're constantly scared of losing?"

Something flickers in Sevika's eyes—pain, fear, or something else entirely. Without warning, she bucks her hips, throwing you off balance. In one smooth motion, she shoves you away and stands up.

You scramble to your feet, ready to continue the fight, but Sevika's next move stops you cold.

"Sevika!" you call out, your voice cracking. "Don't you walk away from me!"

But she doesn't stop, doesn't even look back.

You're left standing there, alone among silent tombstones and empty graves, watching her retreating figure disappear into the gathering dusk.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The weight of defeat settles heavily on your shoulders as you stumble into your room. You collapse onto your bed, fully clothed, as the scene replays in your mind. Sevika's face haunts you - not her usual cocky smirk or searching gaze, but that fleeting expression of raw pain you glimpsed just before she walked away.

There's something deeper, a hollowness in your chest you can't quite name. It's more than just the sting of losing an argument or watching her retreat.

There was something else in her eyes that truly unsettled you—that flash of fear when she looked at you, as if dreading you might become another one of those wooden crosses she would have to mark.

Just as you're about to drift off, a sudden burst of loud music jolts you awake. Shouts and laughter follow, unmistakably coming from a few blocks down—right where Sevika's house is located.

You groan, pressing your pillow over your head. Of course, another one of her infamous parties. But as you lie there, listening to the distant sounds of celebration, a part of you can't help but wonder what Sevika looks like when she's relaxed, surrounded by her team.

After an hour of futile attempts to sleep, frustration wins out. You sit up, running a hand through your hair in annoyance. You throw on a hoodie and stomp towards the door, grabbing the nearest pair of slippers without looking.

The cool night air does little to calm your irritation as you march down the street. You pound on the door, ready to give her a piece of your mind.

To your surprise, it's Sevika herself who answers. Her usual scowl morphs into a grimace as she recognizes you, a lit cigarette dangling from her lips. The sight of her throws you off balance—her gray wife beater clings to her frame, and her cargo pants are smeared with what you hope is just mud. Despite the mess, she looks... good. Annoyingly so.

"Do you know what time it is?" you demand, trying to focus on your anger.

Sevika takes a long drag of her cigarette and then blows the smoke out slowly. Her eyes drift downward. "I like your slippers," she remarks.

You glance down, mortification washing over you as you realize you're wearing Powder's pink bunny slippers. "Shit," you mutter, but quickly shake it off. "Why do you have to be so loud? This might come as a surprise but some people are trying to sleep!"

"Worried you won't get enough sleep to organize properly tomorrow?" Sevika taunts, leaning against the doorframe. "Make sure you don't mix up the soup and fruit cocktail cans."

Her dismissive attitude ignites your temper. "Fine, whatever. You're acting like a complete ass," you spit out.

Sevika's eyebrow raises slightly. "Is that all? Because if so, I've got a party to get back to."

You're about to retort when you catch a glimpse of the interior of her house. It's a mess—empty bottles strewn about, gear haphazardly tossed in corners.

"What?" Sevika's voice snaps you back to reality.

"I... nothing," you stammer, taking a step back. "Just turn the music down, okay?"

Sevika studies you for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, without a word, she turns and disappears into the house. A few seconds later, the volume of the music noticeably decreases. Sevika.. Was being obedient?

She reappears at the door, taking another drag of her cigarette. "Anything else?"

You open your mouth, then close it again. What else is there to say? That her apparent disregard for what you want infuriates you? That her words about from earlier today won’t leave your mind? That despite everything, you find yourself drawn to her in a way you can't explain?

Instead, you just shake your head. "No. That's... that's all. Thanks."

As you turn to leave, Sevika's voice stops you. "Wait."

You pause, looking back at her expectantly. You notice that there is a hesitancy to her this time, like you were fragile and if she got too close you might shatter.

"Wear proper attire tomorrow, okay?" she says, her tone businesslike. "And check in at the armory with Vi."

You blink, confused. "Vi? What does she-"

Sevika cuts you off with an exasperated sigh. "Do I really have to explain it to you, rookie?"

"Yeah, cause I don't get it," you retort.

"You're on the team."

For a moment, you just stare at her, unable to process what you've heard. Sevika refuses to meet your gaze, suddenly finding the wall very interesting.

As realization dawns, a wide grin breaks out across your face. Sevika immediately cuts in, "Don't think I'm going soft on you and giving you anything you want. This is an easy spot, but-"

You can't help the shit-eating grin that spreads even wider. "Thank you," you say, your voice sincere despite your obvious excitement.

Sevika just nods, her expression carefully neutral. "Yeah, okay. Now get out of here before I change my mind."

You nod enthusiastically. "Right. Yes. Thank you again. Good night!"

You turn and walk away, trying desperately to keep your cool. But as soon as you think Sevika has fully closed her door, you can't contain yourself anymore. You do a little excited jump right there in the street, pumping your fist in the air. Then, grinning like a fool, you take off running towards home.

What you don't see is Sevika, still standing in her doorway. She watches your celebratory dance with a mixture of disbelief and something akin to fondness. Shaking her head, she finally closes the door, a small, bemused smile playing at the corners of her lips.

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The early morning sun casts a golden glow over the farm as your team arrives. The dilapidated barn looms ahead, its red paint peeling and faded. Overgrown fields stretch out to your right, while a rickety fence encloses what must have once been a thriving chicken coop.

Sevika's voice rings out across the coop. "Alright, gather the chickens."

You blink, certain you've misheard. "Wait, what?"

You weren’t expecting your first mission to be on a farm, much less to gather the animals. But your confusion is quickly overwhelmed by the sight of your teammates scattering, chasing after a flock of very startled, very loud chickens.

"How do you expect us to get food?" Sevika asks, her tone matter-of-fact.

You turn to her, eyebrow raised. "Why aren't you helping?"

The air seems to still as everyone freezes, shocked by your boldness. Sevika's eyes narrow dangerously.

"I'm your captain," she states, as if that explains everything.

A reckless grin spreads across your face. "What? Afraid you can't catch a single chicken in front of your people?"

Sevika's jaw clenches, and for a moment, you wonder if you've pushed too far. Then, to everyone's surprise, she vaults over the fence and into the coop.

"You have a mouth on you," she growls, eyeing a particularly plump hen. "That's going to get you in trouble one day."

You hop in after her, heart racing at how she easily accepted your challenge. "Only if I'm caught," you quip back.

The two of you circle the hen, which clucks nervously. You lunge forward, but the bird darts away.

"You're scaring it!" Sevika snaps.

"Me?!" you retort. "You're practically harassing the thing!"

As you both scan the coop for a chicken that wasn’t running like it had its head chopped off, a voice pipes up from outside the fence. "They’re bickering like an old couple!"

In perfect unison, you and Sevika whip around, shouting, "Don't you dare say that!"

The moment the words leave your mouth, you freeze, looking at each other in shock, and then it’s replaced quickly with a scowl as the determination to capture the chicken sets back in.

Okay, so barreling at full force towards the animal was not the way to go considering everyone was already filling their cages. You mentally devise a plan to corner the chicken, gesturing for Sevika to move to the right while you go left. But as you both rush forward, the hen squawks indignantly and darts between you in a perfect straight line.

Unable to stop your momentum, you and Sevika collide, tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. You find yourself pinned beneath her, acutely aware of her weight, her warmth, the scent of her body wash and gunpowder that clings to her skin.

Sevika pushes herself up slightly, her face inches from yours. "This is dumb," she mutters. "I don't need to prove anything."

"Mhmm," you manage, your brain short-circuiting from the proximity.

She grunts, rolling off you and standing up. "There's one last chicken," she says, brushing dirt from her clothes. "We better get it."

You turn your attention back to the task at hand, scanning the coop for that last elusive hen. The last hen clucks nervously, darting between the wooden beams of the coop. You and Sevika exchange a quick nod, wordlessly agreeing on a strategy.

Sevika crouches low, her movements slow and deliberate as she inches towards the left side of the coop. You mirror her actions on the right, creating a human barrier. The hen's beady eyes dart between you, sensing the trap.

"Easy now," Sevika murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

The hen makes a break for it, but you're ready. You lunge forward, herding it back towards Sevika. She reaches out, her fingers just brushing the chicken's feathers—

A deep rumble suddenly echoes across the farm, stopping you both in your tracks. You both freeze, exchanging a brief, confused glance. In that instant, the barn door explodes outward with a deafening crash. Splinters of wood fly through the air, unleashing a horde of walkers that stumble and lurch towards you.

"Fuck! Run!" someone screams, and chaos erupts.

Your teammates scramble to grab their chicken cages, but you're transfixed by the sight of Sevika, who's inexplicably clutching the chicken she just caught to her chest with her left arm. Without thinking, you grab her right hand and bolt, pulling her along.

As you run, weaving between broken fences and overgrown crops, the absurdity of the situation hits you. Here you are, fleeing from a walkers horde, hand-in-hand with your usually stoic captain who was so dead set on capturing a single chicken she risked a few minutes just to get it. Suddenly, Sevika bursts out laughing, a rich, genuine sound you've never heard before.

"This is so fucking stupid," she gasps between chuckles.

Her laughter is infectious, and soon you're both giggling like maniacs as you sprint towards the getaway car. The wind whips through your hair, you look over at her and see her tiny ponytail bouncing, her eyes sparkling with unadulterated joy.

As you approach the car, you see one of your teammates dancing in the driver's seat, bobbing their head to music that was loud enough you could hear it from a distance.

Sevika's eyes widened in disbelief. "What is that moron doing?"

"Start the car!" you yell in unison with Sevika.

"Start the fucking car!" echoes from all directions as your team converges on the vehicle.

In a mad scramble, you and Sevika end up diving into the trunk together, barely missing from crashing into each other. The car peels out, tires kicking up dust as you make your escape. You twist around to look back, seeing the walkers crest the hill behind you, their grotesque forms looking like ants as you get further away from the farm.

As the adrenaline starts to fade, you become acutely aware that you're still clutching Sevika's hand. You both look down at your intertwined fingers and quickly release a faint blush coloring your cheeks.

You glance at Sevika and are struck by the sight of her wide grin, revealing the charming tooth gap from the first time you met her. She looks lighter somehow, the usual weight of responsibility temporarily lifted from her shoulders.

"Maybe you should put the chicken in the cage," you suggest, nodding towards the bird still tucked under her arm.

"Right," Sevika says, quickly stuffing the bewildered chicken into a nearby cage.

Free of your feathered companion, you lean out of the trunk slightly, letting the wind rush through your hair. The music from the car's speakers drifts back to you, and you close your eyes for a moment, savoring the smell of the woods and the high from the adrenaline rush.

When you open your eyes and turn back, you catch Sevika staring at you. She's not looking at the receding farmland or checking for pursuing walkers. Her eyes are fixed solely on you, an unreadable expression on her face. In this moment, bathed in sunlight and the afterglow of survival, she looks different. Softer. There was no reminiscent of the super soldier you knew her as.

As your eyes meet, Sevika doesn't look away. Instead, her grin softens into something more intimate, more real. You feel a warmth bloom in your chest, a feeling you can't quite name but don't want to let go of.

The car hits a bump, jolting you both and breaking the moment. Sevika clears her throat and turns to secure the chicken cage, you weren’t sure if had imagined the smile or not.

As you return to Zaun, the adrenaline from your narrow escape fades into a collective sense of relief and camaraderie. The team works together to unload the chickens, and despite the close call, everyone seems to be in high spirits.

"Hey, how about another bonfire party?" someone suggests, and a chorus of agreement follows.

To your surprise, Sevika turns to you. "You should come," she says gruffly. "You’re part of the team now."

"Yeah, sure," you reply, fighting to keep the eagerness out of your voice.

As the team disperses to prepare, you notice Vi sprinting towards a certain someone waiting for her at the entrance. "Caitlyn!" Vi shouts, throwing herself into Caitlyn's arms and kissing her passionately.

You raise an eyebrow. "Well, those two made up fast," you mutter to yourself.

Later that evening, you find yourself seated on the cool ground in front of a roaring bonfire. The flames dance hypnotically, casting flickering shadows across the faces of your teammates. The air is filled with laughter, the clink of bottles, and the rich aroma of smoke and grilled food.

You're nursing a beer, listening intently as the others regale you with stories from previous hunts. Sevika sits not far from you, perched regally on a lawn chair. She's quieter than the others, but you notice her lips quirk up occasionally at particularly funny or outrageous parts of the stories.

As the night wears on, a cool breeze picks up. You shiver involuntarily, the chill seeping through your thin shirt. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Sevika glance your way. Without a word, she shrugs off her shawl and leans forward, draping it over your shoulders.

The gesture catches you off guard. You want to thank her, but something in her posture tells you she'd rather not draw attention to the act of kindness. No one else seems to have noticed, and you wonder if this is just how Sevika takes care of her team—quietly, without fuss or expectation of gratitude.

You pull the shawl tighter around you, inhaling the faint scent of cigarettes and gunpowder that clings to it.

The conversation lulls for a moment, and then someone pipes up, "Hey, remember that time at the hospital in Piltover when we-"

"Uh," another teammate interrupts, glancing nervously at Sevika. "Sevika’s here."

All eyes turn to your captain. Sevika just grunts, taking a long swig from her bottle. You can't tell if it's approval or indifference, but the storyteller takes it as permission to continue.

The crackling fire seems to dim as the storyteller begins, his voice low and reverent. "It was before Zaun was established. Sevika, Silco, Grayson, and some of us old veterans had been cooped up in the hospital for weeks. But it was time we got out, find new people and a place to stay."

You lean in, curious, sneaking glances at Sevika, whose face remains impassive.

"The hospital was completely surrounded," the storyteller continues. "But we had weapons and vehicles. Silco had this completely badass idea to add extra defenses to the ambulance in the garage."

A chorus of whoops erupts from the group, and you see a flicker of pride in Sevika's eyes.

"The plan was to pile as many people as possible into the ambulance. But in the garage," The storyteller's voice drops. "There must've been an opening or something. Somehow, those bastards found their way in."

You find yourself holding your breath while Sevika's face is impassive, but you notice her grip tightening on her bottle.

"It happened so fast. One second Silco was up, the next he was down, a walker lunging for his throat. And Sevika," He shakes his head in awe. "She didn't hesitate. She threw herself between them."

All eyes turn to Sevika. You glance at Sevika, trying to imagine her and the emotions in that moment.

"Go on," she says. "Finish it."

The storyteller hesitates, unsure. "We had to go back in. We cleared the area, but the walker's teeth sank into her arm instead of Silco's neck." the storyteller says softly. "Even then, she didn't stop fighting. She bashed its skull in with her free hand, then turned and took out two more, saving a few more of us. But the bite meant she was infected…"

There's a collective intake of breath around the fire. You feel a chill that has nothing to do with the night air.

His voice trails off, and Sevika finishes for him. "So Silco ended up amputating my arm," she states.

"When I die, I'll die on my own accord. Not because some mindless corpse decided it was my time."

The silence that follows is profound. You see a mix of awe, respect, and a hint of fear on the faces around you as Sevika's words hang in the air.

Then, as if a spell is broken, cheers erupt. "Fuck yeah, boss!" someone shouts, and others join in.

Sevika just grins as she stubs out her cigarette and stands. “I’m calling it a night, try not to have too much fun."

You remain rooted to the spot even though you know you should go give the shawl that's still draped around your shoulders back.

As you’re watching Sevika’s retreating form, you're struck once again by how little you truly understand her. Just when you think you've got her figured out, she does something that shatters your assumptions. Her rare, genuine smile from moments ago was like a crack in her armor, offering a glimpse of something you're not sure you were meant to see.

You recall Grayson's comment; If she's going to hell, she'll drag you down with her. But Sevika isn’t just dragging anyone down—she's fighting, clawing her way up. She’ll endure whatever comes, as long as she’s the one who gets to forge her own path.

Sevika faced death itself, and she emerged victorious.

taglist:

@mirconreadzztuff22 @lils-1979 @veoomvroom @schmoni @theacedragon0w0

@poxismind @kittykatz1227 @archangeldyke-all @abbyssgf @ivorydevil

@lez-zuha @iamastar @jellyfishrnice @anemoxlys @l0vel3tterl0ver

@lavendersgirl @h0pe-scotch @lia-winther @kittykatz1227 @dontknowwhenispawned

@sevikitty @sarahduke @raphaellearp

#arcane sevika #sevika #sevika imagine #arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #grayson arcane #wlw fanfic #zombie apocolypse au #sevika x female reader

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candycandy00 · 2 months ago

Text

Finding Love in a Zombie Apocalypse - A JJK Interactive Romance Fanfic Round 4

Read the details about this event here!

Round 1 | Round 2 | Round 3

During a zombie apocalypse, you meet a group of seven handsome men. Which one will you choose to be your survival/romantic partner?

Vote for the man you want to be eliminated! The man with the most votes will not be killed off in the story, but he will be removed from all future polls and his branching story will be closed off!

Reminder: Vote for the man you DO NOT want to survive with! You are voting someone OUT!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

Note: From here on out, the story branches into different paths, so each man’s part exists in its own little AU. Also, all men who have been voted out will no longer have their parts posted. Choose wisely!

Sukuna:

You wobble on your feet as the truck picks up speed, stumbling right into the huge, firm body of Sukuna. You catch yourself from falling by grabbing hold of his muscular arm, wondering how he’s remaining so steady despite the sway and movement of the trailer you’re both standing in.

He makes no move to help you, but he also doesn’t seem to mind you holding onto him. Once it feels like the truck is on the road and has reached a stable speed, you separate from him and make you way to the closest wall. Surprisingly, he moves to the wall himself, just a few feet away from you.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, you decide to try talking to the most intimidating man in the truck.

“So what are your plans after this?” you ask him. “Gonna help them set up a base?”

He looks over at you, his eyes moving up and down your figure as if judging whether or not you’re worth speaking to. Apparently, you pass whatever standard he has.

“I’m not planning on staying with the group, but I’ll see how things play out. I’ll go wherever seems most fun.”

Most fun? This is a zombie fucking apocalypse! You suspected it before, but this guy really is something else. He’s treating this whole thing like it’s amusing to him.

“What kind of fun are you looking for?” you ask, genuinely curious, hoping your tone doesn’t come out too sharp.

He grins. “A challenge. Something worth my time and energy. Maybe I’ll find a big group and take it over. Maybe I’ll just fucking kill every zombie on earth. Or maybe,” he says, eyes darkening as they slide down your form again, “I’ll find a woman worth fucking.”

You suddenly feel undressed, naked before his hungry gaze even though you’re fully clothed. It’s a strange feeling, even stranger for the fact that you don’t find it wholly unpleasant.

The truck slams on the breaks out of nowhere, causing you to lurch forward. Sukuna catches you this time, holding you upright in his strong arms. You look up at him. He could do it, you think. He could kill every zombie. He could take over any group, no matter how big or well organized. He could have you under him whenever he wants. The realization makes you feel heated.

But more importantly, why did the truck stop? There’s no way to communicate with the cab, so you have no idea what’s going on up front. The others are all looking at each other curiously. Eventually the decision is made to wait a few minutes to see if Gojo or Geto comes back to the trailer to tell you all what the holdup is. But soon enough, you begin hearing the sounds of groaning and hands slapping against the sides and door of the trailer.

It sounds like a large herd has surrounded the truck! Everyone readies their weapons, tense looks on their faces. Except for Sukuna, who simply looks excited.

A quick discussion takes place. Should you open the door and try to escape? There’s enough food and water in the trailer to last several days, and maybe the zombies will give up and leave if they don’t see or hear any people for a while. But what about Geto and Gojo? They could be trapped in the cab with significantly fewer supplies, and how much oxygen is in the trailer anyway? How long will it last?

The decision is made to open the door and try to fight your way to the cab to check their safety, then perhaps run away to try to find some other vehicle or shelter. You’re uneasy about this plan, but you realize there’s no choice. You decide to try to stick close to Sukuna, confident that he can take out any threat.

You hold your breath without realizing it as the door rises like a shutter, revealing dozens of zombies reaching up, trying to crawl in. How in the world are you going to survive this?! But before fear can grip you any tighter, you’re distracted by the sight of Sukuna leaping out of the trailer and right down into the middle of the herd, crushing several with his feet as he lands.

Geto Suguru:

You’re not sure how you ended up sitting alone in the front cab of the truck with Geto, but here you are. Gojo went to ride in the back, saying he wanted to see what supplies Nanami found in the truck, and so it was just you and Geto as he drove down the highway.

Somehow, Geto is the most intimidating of the men, even more so than Sukuna. You’re not sure if it’s his aura of control, or if it’s just the fact that he’s so fucking beautiful that it’s hard to think straight when he’s near. How the hell is his hair so shiny and soft in a zombie apocalypse anyway?

Sure, he’s friendly and he smiles often, but you get the strong impression that these are surface level. There’s a darkness to him that seems to be sitting just below the surface, and it makes you nervous.

“Everyone got away okay, so I guess your plan was a success,” you say, remembering that he seemed to be worried that his decisions would get you all killed.

“Except Fushiguro,” he says, eyes narrowing slightly as he watches the road.

“I think he made it,” you tell him. “He was really sure of himself when he left, and anyway, it was his choice to break off from the group. You can’t be responsible for that.”

His eyes slide over to you briefly, and the dark edge to them softens just a little. “Are you trying to make me feel better?”

You find yourself flushing slightly. “Uh, yeah, I guess. Is it working at all?”

He smiles then, and it looks real to you. “A little. I appreciate your concern. Sorry if I made you worry about me.”

You can’t suppress a light laugh. “I guess we’re both worriers, huh?”

“Maybe we can help each other with that,” he says, and you start to relax around him for the first time.

It doesn’t last long.

He suddenly slams the breaks, causing you to lurch forward. You don’t miss the way his arm juts out in front of you to keep you from being thrown out of your seat. You look up through the windshield at the road in front of you and gasp.

Up ahead, absolutely filling the highway, is the biggest herd of zombies you’ve ever seen. There have to be hundreds of them! They’re far enough away that they’re not a threat right now, but the thought of trying to drive through them, of perhaps getting stuck in the middle of them, sends a chill down your spine.

“What do we do?” you ask. “Is there a way around?” You know you can’t go back the way you came. That leads back to the city, where the roads are blocked by abandoned vehicles and other obstructions, and by now there are probably even more zombies.

Geto pulls a map out of his bag beside him and looks it over. “I don’t see any roads that’ll take us where we need to go. We’ll have to try going through them.”

You gape at him. “Are you serious? What if you try to bulldoze your way through and the bodies get caught up in the tires?”

“I’m not bulldozing my way through,” he says, unbuckling his seatbelt. “I’ve noticed that they tend to shamble out of the way of large objects. If I drive very slowly, most of them should clear the road. I’ll go tell the others the plan.”

You watch him climb down out of the driver’s seat, worried now more than ever.

Gojo Satoru:

You’re not sure how to act around Gojo now. Seeing him go berserk fighting zombies has given you an entirely different opinion of the man you thought was just an easy going goofball. It’s not that you’re afraid of him, but rather that you realized how little you know about any of these men.

And now you find yourself sitting in the front cab of the truck, wedged between Gojo and Geto. How did you end up stuck between the two hottest guys you’ve ever seen in your life? Gojo insisted you ride up front with them.

“You don’t need to be back there in that stuffy old trailer,” he’d told you as he practically dragged you to the front. “You ride up here with us. There’s an old CD player! We can listen to music.”

You didn’t have the heart or the will to refuse him, not when he looks at you with those lovely eyes.

Gojo has a big zippered case full of CD’s in his lap, looking through them as if he’s on a fun road trip and not fleeing a zombie horde. He chooses one and slides it into the stereo system of the truck.

Geto blanches beside you when the music starts. “What kind of trucker listens to 90’s pop?”

Gojo grins. “One with excellent taste!”

Geto rolls his eyes, but has nothing more to say about the matter, instead focusing on the road in front of him.

As the music plays, you realize how exhausted you are after the adrenaline rush of escaping the store. You haven’t slept well in weeks, naturally, and within half an hour, you nod off.

You awaken to the sound of Gojo’s voice, closer than you expect, and you keep your eyes closed as you listen.

“Hey, Suguru, look. She fell asleep on my shoulder.”

You almost jerk up to get off him when you hear that, just now realizing that the soft fabric beneath your face is his shirt. But you decide to stay still and pretend to be asleep. This might be a good chance to learn more about these guys.

“I guess all the excitement wore her out,” Geto says, and you almost laugh at how much it sounds like he’s talking about a child after a birthday party.

“She’s cute like this though,” Gojo’s voice says. “I wonder how long she’ll stick around.”

“Satoru, don’t get attached. She could leave at any moment, or be bitten, or just killed.”

There’s a pause where both men are quiet, then Gojo says, “I won’t get attached. But there’s no harm in having fun with her while she’s around, right?”

Huh? What does he mean by that? The only thing that pops into your head upon hearing that is, well, sex. But maybe he doesn’t mean it that way. It’s entirely possible that he’s talking about fun in a more general sense.

And to be perfectly honest, you’re not sure you’d turn down some apocalypse sex with a guy as gorgeous as him anyway.

But the next words you hear halt all sexy thoughts in your brain and make your blood run cold.

Geto says, “The harm is when you have to kill her yourself. Even if you just played around with her, that will leave a mark on you, mentally.”

Wait, what? Your heart races, and you will yourself to calm down. He probably means if you turn into a zombie, or get bitten.

Right?

But Gojo responds, “I don’t think it’ll come to that. Even if she doesn’t agree with what we’ve got planned, I doubt she’d get in our way.”

Get in their way? What the hell do they have planned?! There’s a lull in the conversation, so you use the opportunity to pretend you’re waking up. You rub your eyes and sit up.

“Where are we?” you ask, trying to sound sleepy and confused.

Gojo smiles at you. Damnit, why is his smile so dazzling? “We’re about fifty miles from the city now. Did you have a good nap?”

“Yeah, sorry for borrowing your shoulder,” you say, your embarrassment genuine.

He laughs. “You can borrow it anytime!”

“So… where exactly are you guys headed?” you ask, trying not to sound suspicious. “Do you have a destination in mind?”

The two of them glance at each other, then Gojo says, “There’s a group occupying a military bunker about a hundred miles from here. It’s a pretty small group, and rumor has it they’re running out of supplies fast. We’re heading there.”

“Oh, are we going to join up with them?” you ask.

Gojo’s friendly smile fades, and the look in his eyes reminds you uncomfortably of the feral beast you saw fighting zombies. “No,” he says, “We’re going to take the bunker from them.”

Nanami Kento:

After taking Nanami’s hand, he firmly but gently pulls you into the back of the trailer attached to the truck. Now that you think of it, that perfectly describes the man himself. Firm but gentle.

As the truck begins to move, Nanami helps you over to the wall to steady yourself, and once the swaying stops, he walks over to one of the bags of supplies he found and pulls out a bottle of some kind. He walks over and holds it out to you.

“Do you like lemon tea?” he asks.

You smile as you take the bottle. “I love lemon tea,” you tell him. “Thanks.”

Cracking the seal on the bottle, you take a sip, not wanting to waste any. You could only bring so many things from the store, and who knows when you’ll find more supplies?

You hold the bottle back toward him. “Want a drink?”

He looks at it, then at your face. “Oh, you don’t have to share,” he says. “There’s another bottle.”

Is it your imagination, or is his face slightly pink? Is he seriously shy about drinking after you? Back in high school, a friend of yours called it an “indirect kiss”. Surely this grown man wasn’t thinking about that. It almost makes you giggle.

God, you haven’t actually giggled in so long.

“Nanami, this is literally the apocalypse. Sharing a bottle of tea is nothing,” you say with a laugh.

He gives you an embarrassed smile, then takes the bottle from you and takes a small drink before handing it back. “Thank you,” he says.

The two of you sit down on the floor, leaning your backs against the wall. You glance over at him. “So how did you end up with this group?”

“I went to high school with Gojo and Geto. As ridiculous as they can be sometimes, they’re both very reliable when it counts. So when they asked if I wanted to join them, I accepted. Higuruma is a friend I know from work. The others we met at a shelter.”

You remember Gojo telling you about the shelter where things fell apart. You wonder how Nanami felt about it, but you don’t want to be rude by asking.

“It’s nice to be with people you’ve known for a long time,” you say. “The familiarity must be comforting.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “It must have been hard for you, being alone.”

The two of you spend the next hour or so talking, about your lives and careers before everything went wrong, about your differing experiences with shelters and groups so far, and about your plans going forward.

“Do you really think you can set up a permanent shelter?” you ask him.

He leans his head back against the wall. “I hope so. Being on the run all the time just isn’t sustainable. At some point we have to consider future generations, and how to safeguard them.”

You nod, thinking he really is a kind person.

Another hour later, and you feel the truck slowing down, then turning. When it finally comes to a stop, everyone waits for a few moments before the door opens. Geto is outside.

“We’re getting low on fuel,” he says. “We found a gas station so we’ll check to see if there’s anything left.”

Everyone in the trailer strands up, many of them stretching after two hours on the road, and all of you climb down to go check the convenience store.

Nanami holds out his hand to you after climbing down, helping you drop to the pavement below.

“Thanks,” you tell him, but you notice that he’s still holding your hand.

“You should stick close to us,” he says. “There might be a few-“

A groan cuts him off. He turns to look for the source of the noise, his body going tense and his grip on your hand tightening. There, coming around the corner of the truck, is a small group of zombies, all of them looking starved.

Tag List:

@tadabzzzbee @babysoo-meu @atomicweaselpaperapricot

#gojo x reader #sukuna x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #geto x reader #choso x reader #higuruma x reader #x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #sukuna #choso #geto suguru #fushiguro toji #nanami kento #higuruma hiromi

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thefairyletters · 4 years ago

Text

✨ Spooky Recs✨

I read a lot of fanfictions... More than I am proud of. I thought I should recommend as I go before I lose sight of their existence among the sea of my favorites.

Since past few days I have been craving for some creepy, unnerving fanfics that will keep me restless and awake at night. I remembered my favorites and wanted to read more of the kind so I looked up, patiently going through each story that sounded compelling. I also revisited old stories for nostalgia's sake.

Of course, rare as they are, in Naruto fandom no less, it's even harder to find a horror and mystery fic that is well written, not dropped under 2 chapters, and really keeps your attention.

🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹🔹

Genre: Horror, Mystery, Comedy

I've rated 4 aspects of the work -

Writing – I don't judge writing based solely on the grammar and vocabulary. I also consider how the author expands upon a subject, if they are consistent with the facts, if they are able to keep the attention of the readers regardless of their creative writing skills.

Characters – If the characters are well-developed, in their given character, if OCs have any real significance to the story.

Plot – How gripping is the storyline, if the story sticks to its original plot, the structure of the story, plot holes.

Flow – Mother-of-slow-burn, slow-but-steady, steady, fast, I-am-speed

When the flowers cry : TCOOKIES777 || M || AO3/FFN || SasuSaku || Goth Horror || Post-Canon, set during Blank Period || Ongoing

When one of the greatest medical-nin in the world goes missing in what should have been a simple delivery to the Land of Spring’s Hidden Snow Village, the rest of Team 7 must reunite to find her. But even the most powerful team of shinobi will find themselves challenged in a battle against the supernatural. With Sasuke's return, vengeful ghosts of the past will test him and his love.

My thoughts : One of the best stories I've read in a while, and top tier SS stories. I read this in one sitting. I never listen to music while reading, preferring silence, but for this one, I suggest you do as the author says. Also, keep some tissues and food with you. This story is major in mystery and minor in horror but otherwise full of SS fluff.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 9/10

Flow: Steady, if a bit confusing (but that's why it's mystery)

Kyuro : silver_shot || T || AO3 || SasuSaku || Mystery || Post-Canon || Complete

“Oh,” says Naruto, “well, its sort of like that. Except in this village, the story has a way more darker ending – it basically goes like this: the girl and the guy plan to run away together. The guy steals a bunch of treasure, and stashes it away. But then, when he goes to get the girl at her village, he kills her and decides to run away with all that money. But then he is killed by the guards of the girls village and now they're both dead and the treasure is hidden away somewhere”. Sasuke stares blankly at the blond, “that story makes no sense”.

My thoughts : I know you must be thinking the same thing as Sasuke – "makes no sense". I did too, but it's a pretty cool short story. It lies on the funny, creepy side that slowly starts to lose its funny touch. SS makes stupid mistakes later on but it could be because they are MCs. The ending is very ambiguous. It's not my favorite mystery but it is something. Enjoyable read but not something I will pick again.

Writing: 8/10

Characters: 8/10

Plot: 8/10

Flow: Fast

Moon stuttering in the sky : xfrinz || T || AO3 || Gen || Mystery || Pre-Shippuden || One-shot

Kakashi is suspicious of many things about Haruno Sakura. Too many things about her don't make sense, with too many incongruous explanations.

My thoughts : Author of this story just summarised Pre-Shippuden in less than 4k words and made some tiny changes to it. Not much though. One of my favorite gen fics yet. Read it if you haven't yet. You'll feel more sad than thrilled tbh. But worth it.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: I-am-Speed

Breath mints : silver_shot || T || AO3 || SasuSaku || Comedy-Mystery || Post-Canon || Ongoing (maybe)

Their home no longer exists with the life it once had – in fact no settlement thrives anymore; they exist only in a snapshot that contradicts time itself. Families within their own homes sleep in a slumber that they cannot wake from. Those that were chatting on the street prior to the event simply drop their heads and remain unresponsive.

My thoughts : I picked it up for Mystery but I stayed for Comedy. But of course that's not to say supernatural elements in this story is not it, but it sure pales in comparison to effortless humor in this story. Lee and Kiba pair is something you don't see often but they get along too well here. Charactisation is on point as well. SS angst! + NS angst (but it's downplayed)

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 9/10

Flow: Steady

The Curse : sincerelyLen || T || FFN || SasuSaku || Horror || Post-Canon || Ongoing

Team 7 is unexpectedly assigned an S-Ranked Mission involving an unsolved mystery of 10 years. An eerie adventure that will test their teamwork, strengths, and greatest fears. Do you believe in Curses?

My thoughts : My all-time favourite horror Naruto fanfiction. To me, this sets the standard of how mystery and horror elements should be handled. I have never been able to get this story out of my mind even it's been years. Perfect charactisation of Team 7 with Smart-yet-Stupid!Sakura, I-can-fight-aliens-and-reanimated-corpses-but-keep-ghosts-away-from-me!Naruto and I-dont-get-paid-enough-for-this!Sasuke. I especially love OCs here. They kinda reminds me of Pillars from KnY. You must read this story, loosely based on Zombie apocalypse + curse concept.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Slow-but-Steady

Silent High : Istoria || T || FFN || Gen || Mystery || Post-Canon || Complete

A bit of the Silent Hill series mixed in with Naruto. Trapped in an illusion whose rules are unknown, they struggle to find answers before darkness consumes them.

My thoughts : One of the best mystery fanfictions I've read. I especially loved how this story handled Genjutsu in the best possible way it could without it turning into some cliche, ghost story. Though really, this story has shown what my greatest fear actually is. I will never be able to leave my back open to a wheelchair. This story has simple writing yet it gives you creeps with the twists and turns. A must read one because it is unlike any other in this list.

Writing: 9/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Steady

Silence of the Damned : Daystar Clarion || T || FFN || Gen || Psychological Horror, Mystery(?) || Pre-Shippuden || One-Shot

When Naruto wakes up to a dead body in his bathroom, he begins a quick spiral into madness.

My thoughts : Listen to Halsey's Control while reading this. Quite chilling, deals with mental issues and morbid but in a fascinating way. It gives a new meaning to Dark!Naruto, but one that actually makes sense. I never saw the ending coming... I had something else in mind and I was convinced it would be, but nope. Here's a sequel to this One-Shot (Uzumaki's War) which I never picked up.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 9/10

Plot: 9/10

Flow: Slow-but-steady

To the Victor : Letta || T || FFN || NaruSaku || Psychological Horror || Shippuden || One-Shot

Naruto loses the fight and Sakura is a trophy of war.

My thoughts : A very twisted NS, if you squint. It's not horror but it might as well be... it is still a disturbing story to see from the eyes of Sakura. Quite chilling to be in Sakura's shoes. But I love this because it is one shot and I loved the ending.

Writing: 9/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 8/10

Flow: Steady

Under the Skin : BukkakeNoJutsu || T || FFN || Team 8 || Body Horror || Pre-Shippuden || One-Shot

Your actions don't make you a monster. Your reasons do.

My thoughts : There's a reason why Shino is my favourite team 8 member. In my opinion, Shino is also one of the strongest Shinobi of his generation. His clan techniques are just that horrifying. This story is testament to that. He is so terrible.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 10/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Slow-but-steady

Instant Message : Keelah || T || FFN || SasuSaku || Murder mystery || Modern AU || Incomplete

She gave him names to kill, in order not to be killed herself. But having blood on her hands was turning out to be much worse than dying. "…There's still round 2…3…4…" When does this game end? She asked. "Don't you see, Sakura?" He said, "It never does."

My thoughts : I read this story a long time ago and have read this twice. Personally, it has the most interesting concept of all stories in the list. It reminds me of Vocaloid series, "Bookmark of the end". Kind of. To those who are thinking of picking this up, go ahead! It's a great book and has one of the best suspense I've read in Fandom. BUT, it has been stopped in mother-of-all-cliffhangers and Author is MIA for 4 years now. But, all things considered, it remains to be one of the best stories I've read.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 9/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Steady

Monomoth : Ohtze || M || FFN/AO3 || SasuSaku || Horror || AU || Incomplete

Everything ends, eventually. Eight years after the war, Sakura's unhinged and Sasuke's obsessed. The fields are filled with corpses.

My thoughts : I read this story right after "The Curse", my favourite. From what I remember, Sakura and Sasuke are both mentally deranged, in different ways. Lots of death and gore to stomach, so not for weak readers. There's no speak of fluff in this one. Zero, Zilch, Nada. I wouldn't call it your classic 'Horror', but it is very disturbing, so psychological horror is more like it. Don't eat food while reading this one. Did I mention how Sakura is mentally disturbed beyond help in this one? And Sasuke is obsessed. If these suit your tastes, go ahead.

Writing: 10/10

Characters: 9/10

Plot: 10/10

Flow: Slow

I hope you enjoy this list. Let me know your opinion in comments.

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wincore · 4 years ago

Text

wasted nights | liu yangyang

pairing: yangyang x reader

words: 5.5k

summary: firstly, you don’t think you should have survived this long. secondly, this might be the zombie apocalypse but your survival doesn’t feel as threatened by zombies as it does by liu yangyang. thirdly, you’ve chosen the worst time to develop a crush.

genre: zombie apocalypse!au, fluff, humour(?)

warnings: mention of injuries & blood, violence (against zombies), dumbassery, do not attempt during an actual zombie apocalypse

song rec(s): wasted nights - one ok rock

a/n: october birthdays get halloween specials~ although this one is just full of unnecessary appearances by cats. also campfires because october campfires hit different. (i’m definitely saying this because i was born in october) also not me writing this as a joke and reaching 5.5k words </3

It’s two hours till sundown.

What would you be doing on a day within the ordinary? Likely getting back from after school activities, chatting with a friend or feeding the stray kittens by the school building, or maybe pretending Liu Yangyang doesn’t exist—the possibilities were endless. Now there’s only one.

“Yangyang,” you call, more worried than not.

On a day out of the ordinary, you wish you hadn’t prayed for your exam to get cancelled the day all of this broke out. You wouldn’t be scavenging like some sort of rodent and you wouldn’t be standing at the gates of an abandoned shrine, though now is undoubtedly a better time to pray. It’s not the best of situations (especially not with a certain little rascal attached to your side).

And understatements are definitely your thing now.

“Yangyang,” you call a little louder this time, eyes shifting around the shrine area.

Should you step in? He asked you to wait, the stone steps now looking a little glum without him skipping over them. The only signs of life you’ve seen around has been a family of raccoons looking rather smug and a single spotted dove preening itself atop a branch. The lack of visibility into the forest surrounding the shrine bothers you, like something could jump out any minute and you suck your teeth, growing annoyed. Where is that boy?

You tap your foot against the ground soundlessly. What if a zombie were to pop out? They might be slow but the sight of them is still gross enough to paralyze you. Yangyang has his baseball bat with him, which leaves you defenseless in terms of weapons. Still, it’s not like the bat would have done you any good. You are, in the truest sense of the word, average at any sort of combat and freezing at the limbs comes to you more naturally. Zombies are not fun; whatever nonsense Yangyang has been trying to explain to you for weeks is optional, as is every other suggestion that comes from his mouth. It’s quiet and quiet, creepy shrines have never been your favourite place in the city.

You hear a low growl behind you, stiffening at the sound. Best case scenario, it’s a big rat. You’d rather not think of the worst case. Eventually, you gather some courage and turn slowly only to jump back with a short scream.

Yangyang takes the old festival mask off to reveal a giant grin on his face, urging you to knock it right off. The anger that follows is natural and he should be used to it by now. Yangyang continues smiling, as if he didn’t just pull your soul right out of your body, and when he opens his mouth to say something, you’re quick to land a swift punch to his gut. He lets out a pained cry, dropping to the ground in a squat.

“Don’t do that,” you seethe. “Why can’t you greet me normally?”

“I’m okay!” He signals a thumbs up while the other hand clutches his stomach.

“I didn’t ask.”

He moves his hand to place it over his chest. “Ow. Oh, and to answer your question, it’s because you don’t want to do my special handshake with me.”

“Hm. Get up. You said there were supplies here. What did you find?”

He pouts, finally getting up. “I can’t believe you’re just using me for supplies.”

You cross your arms. “Just get up already.”

Yangyang springs up despite the (admittedly) strong blow to his stomach and presents to you the plastic bag he’d been holding. In any other circumstances, it would spark some disapproval on your behalf but it turns out, those things do outlive most everything. For a moment, the ridiculous image of pulling a plastic bag over a zombie’s head crosses your mind.

Yangyang finally responds, taking out whatever items he recovered. Not everything is useful however; he’s simply taken to collecting knick-knacks.

“I found toothbrushes! Maybe your breath will stop stinking—”

You raise your clenched fist as a threat.

“—I was kidding. Obviously. You have lovely breath.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose in an attempt to contain your exasperation.

“Also, I found clean water so I filled up some bottles and yeah, I couldn’t find much else but oh! There was this huge cat and I mean huge like a big chonk kinda guy, you know? And I’m sure he was, like, trying to tell me something, like, he kept hissing when I went near him but…”

You wonder if Yangyang ever gets tired from speaking so fast, his words fading out of your comprehension. You shake your head, clearing your throat.

“Can we leave now?”

Yangyang raises an eyebrow, almost smirking as the gears in his head turn.

“You’re not… superstitious, are you?” he asks. “I heard there’s a lot of reported sightings of ghosts here.”

“No,” you blurt, quick to deny. Yangyang might have seen you crying after getting lost in the dark, almost fainting after encountering a zombie for the first time or even in deep sorrow after you lost your friend—but there’s still part of your dignity to protect before you can admit your fear of ghosts. There’s just something about this abandoned shrine; there are no visitors apart from the caretaker and if loneliness is responsible for anything, it’s making lonely things seem a whole lot scarier. You’d rather leave before the sun sets.

Yangyang laughs. “Who do you think would win in a fight? Zombies or ghosts?”

You roll your eyes. “That’s so stupid. Obviously ghosts.”

“No. Okay, maybe. I just think…”

There he goes again.

You wonder if he was always this way—when you passed him by in the hallways, when he shot you a polite smile at club meetings or when you saw him being loud with his friends blocking part of the sidewalk. You’re sure he couldn’t have been entirely sane.

“Oh my god.”

Yangyang’s voice jerks you back to the present. You follow his line of sight to a cardboard box beneath a particularly dense shrub; it's a large one—quite possibly a carton of some commercial product which doesn’t matter anymore. However, it’s not the details of the box itself so much as it is the contents that grab your attention.

You can almost see the sparkle in Yangyang’s eyes as he views the cats huddled together inside the box. They don’t seem to mind each other within their personal space—you count four of them, tightly packed and eyes closed in a late afternoon nap. How the box hasn’t ripped apart yet is quite a mystery, and what’s more troubling is how at ease they seem to be with the entire human race in disarray.

You grab Yangyang by the collar before he can make his way to them.

“Don’t harass them,” you say, massaging your temples. “Jesus, it’s like they’re glued to each other. Do they have to be in the same box?”

“It might just be the last cardboard box left on earth.” Yangyang shrugs.

The cats mind their own business, grooming their fur or closing their eyes in an odd sort of bliss. You wonder what it would be like to be so unbothered by all the chaos. It reminds you of someone.

“Come on,” you urge, thinking back to older times. “Don’t think I forgot how much you used to bother old Louis back then.”

Louis was the university cat, fed with so much love that he eventually started avoiding people like the plague. You wonder how he’s holding up for a brief moment.

“Don’t think I forgot how you were back then too.”

“What do you mean?” you snap, glaring at him.

“You were already a zombie,” he says before engaging in a cheap mimicry of you, drooping his eyelids and taking slow steps muttering, “I… must… maintain… gpa… grr.”

You almost take off your shoe to throw it at him before deciding it’s not worth your time. Ah, if only you had done that during club meetups, perhaps you’d have felt better about him joining. Everyone treated him so differently, and you hate to admit you now understand why.

Everyone loves a good troublemaker.

And there happens to be another thing special about your sole competitor for the debate club’s president position. Apart from his strange antics (charms, he says), even this virus—this fuckall literal killer virus can’t infect him. He’s immune—an occurrence with a possibility lower than you finding him attractive. (There, you said it.)

You look at Yangyang still talking about Louis and a small smile crosses your face. You’d feed your right arm to a zombie before you admitted it but it’s nice having him around. You furrow your brows at the sudden familiar bubbling in your chest and shove it away in a flash before your conscious decides to tell you what it is.

Your heart jumps to your throat when you make eye contact with Yangyang, turning away in a rather awkward manner. Oh, the end of the world does awful things to you.

“Are you listening?” Yangyang raises an eyebrow. “Oh my god, you weren’t listening at all.”

You roll your eyes. “I was distracted.”

“By me?” he offers in a sing-song voice, prompting a smack from you. It’s easier to pretend this way.

Yangyang massages his shoulder with a huff. “Why are you hitting me so much today? I’ve counted like eight and the day’s only just over.”

“Sorry,” you mumble before clearing your throat. “I mean, you’ve also said something annoying, like, more than eight times today.”

“I’m not annoying.”

There’s a pause.

“Okay, maybe a little bit.”

The sun starts to lay in rest by the time you reach the city. Compared to the green, red and yellow of the yet standing shrine, this place is in dull monochrome with the occasional coloured signs that flicker to life. You force yourself to think but have a hard time remembering if it was always this way. Was it any different with the rushing cars or apathetic crowds? You can’t tell. You were part of them, after all.

“Hey, how about a bottle flip challenge but with traffic cones?” Yangyang thinks aloud, walking backwards as you pass by a particularly well-lit alley.

You roll your eyes in response. Is it the lack of people making him that way? Your unflustered companion looks at home among neon lights, all of them seeming to point towards him as an answer to a question you haven’t quite figured out yet.

You glance at the alley just a second longer. The electric lanterns still glow red, and although dim, there are many. The shops almost look like you could enter and be greeted with a crowd of university kids or a group of office workers drinking away in celebration of the weekend. You sigh. It’s most certainly deserted inside; there’s no doubt. At the most, the tables are still arranged neatly and the meat grills aren’t completely rusted. You wonder if it’s a Friday.

There was never much grass in the city but whatever growth there was has withered into a mustard yellow or a lamenting grey. An empty city is hardly appealing, but you can’t deny the ill-favored things you’ve done the past few months in the absence of people—a part of you questioning whether breaking into supermarkets is still against the law when no one’s around to keep it. You smile at the memory of Yangyang pushing you around in a shopping cart, though you’d gotten drunk off the (stolen) liquor prior. The neon lights hanging as a banner over sketchy shops sometimes spark alive before dying down over and over again, and to be fair, you don’t think they ever shined too bright. Ironically, they’re the liveliest thing about the city now.

The sky’s soaked in ink at a time you assume to be around seven in the evening. You walk closer to Yangyang without realizing; it’s not often you’ve been out this late the past few months.

“Hey.” Yangyang snaps you out of your daze. “Be careful.”

The words are strange coming from him but you understand why. You look up ahead with caution and a shiver runs down your spine as you stare at the intersection, a lone, tattered figure droning aimlessly. It’s only one, you tell yourself. And they’re slow.

The memories of your previous encounters send warnings over your skin, shivers begging you to run as fast as you can. You would if it weren’t for Yangyang’s grip on your hand, tugging you forward gently and though it’s something he does every time, you wonder if he knows how you’re really feeling. His footsteps are soundless, with the same red sneakers he’s worn since the beginning of this but something tells you it’s not the shoes that give him a cat’s footfall. The purple lights flicker on and off over the shop on the opposite street, the suddenness of it making you latch onto Yangyang for a short-lived moment. You’re quick to let go, throat too dry to make any sound.

You curve around what would be a straight path, careful not to be in the creature’s line of sight when you cross. The streets seem wider when they’re so empty, and somehow it feels more unlawful this way. Yangyang signals to you to stay closer, and you follow before bumping into his back when he stops abruptly. There’s absolutely no sound, the feeling in your gut much worse than at the shrine.

“Something’s wrong,” Yangyang whispers.

A strangled shriek erupts from your mouth when something launches itself onto the two of you, making you land on your butt. You would’ve placed your hands over your eyes, but you’ve learned how to be less of a coward these past few days.

A shaky breath leaves you. A cat. It was a stray cat. The little asshole looks at you with almost twinkling eyes, tail swishing from side to side before deciding you’re not worth its time. Your shoulders sag, a moment of relief despite your stiff muscles.

“Uh, (name)?”

You look up only for your stomach to fill with dread. The zombie from before is staring directly at the two of you, the same vacant look in its eyes that has haunted you for the entirety of the apocalypse.

“It’s okay, he’s too slow,” Yangyang reminds you, voice barely a whisper as he helps you stand.

“We can just take the other street—it’s a little longer but it’s mostly safe and there’s no way he can—”

Yangyang is interrupted by a sickening growl from behind you and you jump back. There’s another one. And another. You count four more before holding back a swear. Yangyang grabs you by the shoulder and the two of you take a step back, onto the sidewalk. There’s a shop behind you; you read a smeared sign above the plastic door curtains indicating a dumpling place. Even if you were to hide in there, there’s no guarantee you’d be safe.

But if you’ve learned anything in these months, it’s that anything is always better than nothing.

The night has settled in completely, you realize. You’re about to tug Yangyang to the inside as you turn around, only to freeze up in your spot. A pale woman emerges from the store, her makeup still fresh but you know that look, the look in her eyes. How cruel.

“Please,” she mumbles, taking a step towards you and you think you might just cry. It’s not long before she turns, you think with dread.

You stumble back to Yangyang when she emits a blood curdling screech, lunging at you and to either your alarm or worse, relief, Yangyang pushes you back. You watch with wide eyes as the woman sinks her teeth into his arm, nausea growing at the sight of blood. He moves fast though, his arm swinging the baseball bat to meet the woman in the head, hard enough to knock her out. In these few moments, one of the zombies is close enough to reach an arm out towards you and you swear you can hear the horrid sound of his bones cracking when you step back. The longer you remain in this state, the slower you are. You suppose you should take comfort in these words but when you look at it, you still see a man.

Hollow. They’re all hollow.

You take a deep breath.

Just as the thought crosses your head, you see Yangyang swing his bat again, meeting the zombie on the head and much to your wide-eyed horror, the head flies off into the dumpling shop and the body reacts with just about as much confusion as you do. It wildly waves about its hands in the now vacant spot before crumpling onto the road with a quiet realization.

Yangyang makes a face, pressing his knuckle to his mouth to prevent himself from what you presume is gagging. However, when you look closely, he seems to be holding back a laugh instead and very painfully so. You know he has a habit of laughing at the most inappropriate times but this, it really takes the cake.

“Home run?” he suggests, turning to you with a sheepish half-grin. There’s no hint of malice in his voice and you think that it’s probably not that he enjoys swinging his baseball bat at zombies.

“You’re disgusting,” you reply, shaking your head.

“Maybe I should leave you here then.”

You can’t believe he has the gall to be cheeky with blood running down his arm and four of the undead drooling at the sight of you two.

“Do you think we can find ingredients that aren’t stale here? I miss having dumplings.”

“Yangyang.”

“Okay, okay.”

The other ones are still far enough and the two of you take this chance to run off towards the street Yangyang mentioned earlier and safely out of view. You notice him panting heavier than before, and your eyes scan over his arm in worry. The bite is ugly, red with oozing blood, and you hold back the urge to ask him if he’s anaemic.

Yangyang follows your eyes before an ‘ah’ leaves his lips. He spins his head to the right, trying to catch a glimpse of the wound in the same manner a dog chases after its own tail. He puts the bat down to try and twist his arm to see the injury but you stop him, clicking your tongue at his silly behaviour.

“You’re not twelve, Yangyang,” you scold. “Let’s get back to the hotel first.”

He shrugs, and you think some provoking words are ready to leave his mouth when he simply picks up his bat and walks off. You blink before quickening your steps to catch up with him. The blood dripping down his forearm makes you feel a little unwell but you know better than to touch infections.

It takes around fifteen minutes longer than usual to reach the hotel—Yangyang was right. It is safer here, with no zombies lurking around the corners. He must have been out late when he was scouting, you think with distaste.

You reach the now-rusting gates of your haven without trouble and the moment you reach, Yangyang falls to his knees, heaving a breath he seems to have been holding. You rush to him, eyes frantic when you reach your hand out to him, and he flinches, moving away from you.

“Don’t,” he mutters before getting up. “You turning into a real zombie would be my personal nightmare.”

It’s not enough to curb your worry but you follow him nonetheless, the stupid, wavering grin on his face making you unable to decipher what he’s really feeling.

The familiar smell of honeysuckle washes into you as you pass by the entrance, locking the door behind you as Yangyang falls onto one of the chairs in the lobby. Kunhang happened to be passing by, a muffled swear leaving him when he sees the blood on Yangyang’s arm.

“You didn’t touch him, did you?” he asks, pulling on his gloves to further see the wound. A former med student is the best you have here, and somehow, you’ve never seen him complain about having to take care of someone as bothersome as Yangyang.

You shake your head in reply to Kunhang and watch as he runs from shelf to shelf to procure more bandages than you’ve ever seen in your life. You’ve been seeing an awful lot lately.

“We’re going to run out of bandages in a week if he keeps this up,” Kunhang says with a frown, moving so fast you can barely see his hands. “He’ll be okay, I guess. The virus just makes him dizzy.”

He’s probably thinking the same thing you are. Something serious happening to Yangyang is a little bit of a miracle. Maybe he’ll finally be set right in the head.

Even so, you know Kunhang is worried despite his quick response, his frown lines deepening once he’s done wrapping up. He sighs before waltzing off to discard his gloves.

It’s not that you aren’t impressed by Kunhang; you’ve just seen him do that too many times to count. And of course, it’s mostly Yangyang on the receiving end. They might be good friends but this also happens to be the only time they're serious together. Moreover, Kunhang seems to beat Yangyang in the talking-for-twelve-hours-straight department. You have to admit though, being in charge of first aid for the few people stuck in this hotel is not an easy business.

You take a seat opposite to Yangyang, dozing off in his chair and wonder if you should wipe the drool off his chin. Disgusting, you think to yourself, but another part of you dares to offer the word cute.

The best thing about barricading yourself in a hotel during the apocalypse is not having to worry about beds. There’s at least five hundred rooms in this skyrise, more than enough for, what, sixteen people? The place is so big that you hardly run into the others. The only rule around here is regarding the pantry—to write down who’s taken what on the notepad stuck to one corner. Despite what movies show, people are far more helpful to each other in times of need, more so than usual even. You relax into the chair, the velvet cushion feeling comfortable against your back.

There’s a nice communal feeling in this place.

You frown. It’s not like you can stay here forever.

At the very least, you can pretend each sundown and sunrise is ordinary here. You close your eyes, and slowly, thoughts of why you’re trying so hard to remember life before this drift away.

Yangyang wakes up before you do, grinning like crazy as he shrugs you awake. You stare at him through groggy eyes, untangling your limbs from yourself. The cold seeps into you and you shiver, hugging yourself.

“We found the keys to the lounge,” he rushes, albeit in a gentle voice. “Guess what?”

“Unh?”

“There’s a campfire spot over there! The others already started but I thought I should wake you up.”

It’s just like him to be excited about something like that. You get up nevertheless, Yangyang pulling you through the stairs and onto the only elevator that seems to work around here. There’s quite a few things about this hotel left to be figured out. You’re going to have to start worrying anyway when the power from the generator runs out.

Kunhang and an older man, Mr Kang, are the only ones there once you reach. You had expected it but the lounge is gigantic and a small part of it provides the artificial campfire area. There are paintings of wild animals and trees for children, you assume, on the walls only cut off by a large vent on the ceiling. The fire burns bright over the large circle of soil and firewood, whose authenticity is debatable. You sigh at the warmth, having grown tired of the autumn weather’s mood swings.

Kunhang greets the two of you with a grin before delicately poking Mr Kang to at least acknowledge your presence. It’s funny, the lot of you.

The place is a little small, considering there’s a literal fire in the middle of the room. You almost sit on Yangyang because he shifts too suddenly at Mr Kang’s disapproval of proximity, a small yelp leaving you whereas Yangyang, for the first time, looks like he’d rather die. He mutters an apology, and two of you manage to sit a good two feet apart, sudden awkwardness rising in the air—all of it unnoticed by Mr Kang. You heard he was a banker but if Kunhang and Yangyang had a polar opposite, it would most certainly be him. You can’t even remember the man’s voice.

You think you should say something but Kunhang’s laughter breaks the silence. There’s an unspoken exchange between him and Yangyang, piquing your curiosity though you aren’t sure what you should be asking. You just assume it’s one of their stupid inside jokes.

“I left your gift on your table. You can add it to your dumb shoe collection,” Kunhang tells Yangyang, smiling before standing up to stretch. “I’m going to bed. Mr Kang, won’t you accompany me?”

Mr Kang gets up begrudgingly and you’re about to ask them to stay longer when Kunhang turns to you enthusiastically. “Good night, (name). Don’t have too much fun. Although, I suppose there’s no better time to have too much fun either.”

You watch with furrowed brows as the two disappear into the doorway and down the stairs. You spend a couple of moments in silence before clearing your throat. When it goes unnoticed, you turn to Yangyang despite the warmth on your face.

“It’s not dumb,” he mutters to himself, a little zoned out.

You stare at him for a few moments and the familiar feeling rises in your throat, now with a little voice to accompany it.

Cute.

You cough, distracting yourself with any and all thoughts you would rather have, even of the zombies. Now isn’t the time—or is it the perfect time? You shake your head, calming yourself.

“Does it… hurt?” You ask, eyeing Yangyang’s arm.

He looks up as if broken from a daze, the campfire lights still dazzling in his eyes. You hold back a laugh. He really is a child; if he’s so easily mesmerized by fires, that is.

“Probably not any worse than the lady I whack-a-mole’d. Now that must’ve hurt.” Yangyang puffs his cheek before looking straight at you.

You stare back. It’s not the weirdest thing he’s said.

“What? I feel bad beating the crap out of zombies sometimes,” he says, scratching the back of his head.

You hum in response. The thought of Yangyang developing a conscience is almost as bad as having to think about zombies. Though, you’ll have to admit, it does give you a strange relief. Zombies can’t really feel pain—they are, after all, numb in every possible sense—but some part of you wonders if it’s alright like this. Morals and survival aren’t meant to overlap.

You feel the need to distract yourself with something.

“Hey,” you call, moving closer to Yangyang such that your shoulders almost touch. Before you know it, you brush the hair from his face, trying to style the mess into something more neat—a thing you’ve been wanting to do since the first time you saw him. Every time you’d see the messy mop of hair at an official event of the debate club, you’d have this strong urge and an almost putrid form of annoyance. You still don’t know how he managed to get in.

“You don’t look terrible with parted hair,” you muse. “You could’ve looked more decent at the debates.”

You look down from his hair to see Yangyang frozen, eyes wide as if a deer in the headlights.

“Are- Are you not breathing?” you ask.

Yangyang sucks in a large chunk of air, fast enough to choke on it and break into a coughing fit as he turns away from you. You reach out to pat his back but he waves his hand at you, indicating he’s fine before he can turn to you.

You look at him with no particular emotion, the night breeze having worked its way to you.

“What was that about a gift? Are you and Kunhang getting things for each other without telling me?” you say, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

There's a short pause, filled with the crackling of fire.

“It’s my birthday,” Yangyang says with a small smile as the campfire lights dance across his cheeks.

And yet, the words come out sad as if he’d been waiting for an occasion to tell you. You look at him, eyes widening ever so slightly accompanied by the loss of words and take a sharp breath.

“I’m not going to ask for a gift,” Yangyang teases. “Don’t look so worried.”

You open your mouth and close it again, unable to explain the gentle wash of sadness overcome you when you see just a boy. For all the talking he does, he never asks for much.

“I mean, I- I liked spending the day with you. Why do you look so sad? Did I say something? Again?”

You look over his features, from his brow bone to his wide eyes to his lips and the conclusion arrives as gently as the end of the world. What’s the worst that could happen?

You quickly pull him into a hug, still careful of his injury, and a vaguely embarrassing sound escapes Yangyang, something akin to a sheep’s call. He clears his throat which turns into coughing before he can wrap his arms around you, his breathing soft against your shoulder.

“I’m- I’m alive, you know? I don’t think I’m dying any time soon. I- I can’t even get infected! You know that.”

“That’s not why I’m- I…” You pull back, steeling your eyes so you don’t feel the warmth of embarrassment.

Just like you prepare for debates, you think to yourself. Maybe Yangyang was right about you being a zombie—the way you follow the same drudging formula.

“I like you,” you say, your words more of a strained whisper but they’re out before you know it. You can fake confidence, you tell yourself. It’s horrible timing and spending your (potentially) last days with someone who rejected you is just another way to shoot yourself in the foot.

But part of you has been wanting to do this for so long that you almost don’t mind.

Yangyang sucks in a breath, pressing his knuckles to his mouth as he straightens.

“That was- Wow. Okay. I- Uh. Wow.”

You let the heat grow stronger in your cheeks, racking your head for an explanation or even a lie. Maybe you can say it was a mistake.

“I- I meant…” You lose track of your words. You can’t lie.

“I’ve never been confessed to,” he blurts, and if you squint, you swear you can see him blushing.

“Huh?”

Yangyang coughs again, followed by the same embarrassing sound. “That was- That was the first time.”

The silence between you is accompanied by the crackling of fire and the soft path-making of wind. You’re at a loss for words, something that you should be used to by now—they clearly belong to someone else.

“Oh my god, that was so stupid,” he says, pulling a horrified face as he frantically waves his hands about. “I meant to say I like you too but I- I guess I forgot to say it out loud. Ah, crap- I sound even stupider now, don’t I?”

Your lips twitch, trying to contain your smile but you’re seized with uncontrollable laughter anyway. The mortified expression on Yangyang’s face makes you burst into another fit of giggles before you can somewhat compose yourself.

“I think that’s the longest you’ve been quiet for,” you say in between recurring laughter. “Did anyone ever tell you being able to talk fast doesn’t get you ahead in debate clubs?”

Yangyang frowns.

“Oh, I just joined because I thought it’d get on your nerves,” he says, not a hint of jest in his voice.

You straighten away from him, the smile dropping from your face.

“You can’t be serious.”

He grins sheepishly, scratching the back of his head and offering no explanation. You huff in exasperation, getting up abruptly to avoid another oncoming headache. It’s a little difficult, considering you have the human version of it right beside you.

“Wait- Where are you going?” Yangyang scrambles up to his feet. “It’s my birthday, you know?”

You turn around and put your hands on your hips, a small smile on your face at the sight of him. “It’s midnight already.”

“Oh. How was I supposed to know?”

You laugh, shaking your head. Maybe the little rascal is special.

“Hey,” Yangyang calls. “You know, since this is the end of the world and all…”

You stare at him, heartbeat erratic at the lack of distance and despite the fading of teenage fantasies. Yangyang shifts nervously, glancing here and there while simultaneously trying to keep eye contact with you, an action which makes you hold back a chuckle. There’s a particular twinkle in his eyes but he can’t seem to be able to look at you straight.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, finally.

And what a daring end to the world it is.

#yangyang x reader #wayv x reader #cznnet #yangyang scenarios #wayv scenarios #yangyang imagines #wayv imagines #yangyang fluff #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #moonwrites #if you think the header is stupid thats bcs it is #graphic design is my passion <3 #you can pry the troublemaker x good kid trope out of my cold dead hands :)

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selfproducingfanfictionauthor · 4 years ago

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the worlds collide - i: an old face

Summary: Who are you? Now that the new world has collided with the remnants of the old?

Pairing: BTS x reader (slight Got7/Jackson x reader)

Warnings: Referenced violence, covert sexism, zombies Notes: I knoooow I should be working on lessons to build and looking back at you but this idea just won’t let go. I originally wrote it for my 30 minute challenge but it got out of hand. So here it is, a zombie au! Not sure how long it’ll be yet but we’ll see! UNEDITED. Word Count: 3.2k

At the center of the end of the world, humanity was stripped to what it only needs to exist - strength, camaraderie, and grit.

With the undead nipping at your heels day and night, the only thought that remained were thoughts of where the nearest exist is, how to store food, how much farther for the next stronghold, and how long will that stronghold last. To survive, you stripped away everything unnecessary from your former life. All the bashfulness, the shame, and coated yourself with an armor as thick as the new callouses on your fingers - you still remember the first time you’ve went topless around Namjoon, and neither of you flinched.

Frankly, you’ve forgotten how to be anything else but this brought you to your new role in the new world. You’re no longer a girl, or a woman - you’re a survivor.

And with your old life etched in the sinew of your muscles, of your arms and your legs, you became a valuable member of the group. Along with Jungkook and Hoseok, you carry the front, bashing heads of zombies left and right, clearing the way to a new possible food source and haven.

It was a tiring existence, the type of tired that can’t be washed away by sleep. If that’s what you can call those pockets of peace you have when you’ve finally trusted them to watch your back.

It took long for you to finally drop your guard around these boys that you now call your family. Understandable, given that men didn’t really have a great track record for women to trust them even prior to the apocalypse. But you’ve met them in a tight circumstance, that had them trusting you before you even bothered to try.

(It was Jimin who first reached out, somehow unchanged by the cruelty of the new world. Always soft, always yearning.)

The seven of them had been friends before shit went down, and you were just a lucky one to be part of their orbit.

You remind yourself of this now that the new world has began.

This is the longest you’ve stayed in one place since two years ago, and it’s starting to feel like a place everyone could plant their roots in. The town’s largely untouched by the apocalypse, its strategic location in the mountains and quick response had them building trenches and walls, to keep the hoard from closing in.

It’s an extra precaution thoughtfully made by a self-sustaining community. For once, isolation brought forth more benefits than mishaps. They’ve barely lost people, largely untouched by the terrors of the world outside theirs. Innocent. Their lives went on. No nightmares, nothing.

The first time one of the pleasantly-dressed girls approached you with what could’ve been friendship, you flinched.

The boys were taken to it so easily, perhaps being as weary as you are didn’t make them jaded as it has made you.

Namjoon was swept away by the village committee, his brains and leadership evident with how he led you to safety. Jin and Jimin’s apprenticed under the village doctor, Yoongi’s turned to farming along with Taehyung, while Hoseok and Jungkook’s muscles are put to test building houses at the craft shop.

Everybody’s found a place except you, because while this town’s been untouched in all the good ways, it’s also been untouched in a sense that it kept to all the antiquated ways of the old world.

And, you hate how much you resent it in your deepest of hearts.

It’s as if they thought that putting you in a dress will wash away all the blood in your hands, as if you didn’t shed as much as all the boys did if not more. You’ve been turned away from all the things you could do, and are now being forced into things they want you to.

It’s suffocating, being torn with the desire to put your foot down and the fear of being perceived as ungrateful.

“They don’t understand, do they?”

You blink out of your thoughts and turn to a familiar face making himself comfortable beside you.

Jaebeom’s pushed away the unfinished basket to the side and pulled up one of his long legs to rest his elbow on.

By his side is his gun, locked and loaded, always ready even after months of quiet. You didn’t even hear him come in, but instead of being unsettled, you’re a slightest bit relieved to know that at least someone hasn’t gotten rusty.

The scar on his eyebrow stands out underneath the moonlight, and on the porch of your little house way’s away from the center of the town, you two make a fine pair of outsiders.

“No, they don’t.”

Even in times of peace, loss is inevitable.

Namjoon mulls over this as he looks at the list of names up for the next supply run. Two names have been crossed, and two funerals were attended last week. One had a body, another didn’t.

Old man Jungho died of a heart attack after his son died outside, and along with the grief, Namjoon could feel the pressure placed on his shoulders by a community unused to “unnatural” losses.

He’s developed a cycling procedure that makes it slightly fair to everyone who volunteered. Marked with blue ink are the ones who were in the previous run, those in black are the ones who are up for the next one.

With the latter list down by two, Namjoon turns to a different corner of his notebook to see your name. Until now, he’s had every excuse not to put you out there but now…

“Fuck,” Namjoon sighs and rubs his face with his hands. He doesn’t know why you’ll want to do this again. He’s tried asking you but somehow, you’ve grown farther and farther away.

When he tried to find you in the village garden with Yoongi, suddenly you’re out getting water. When Seokjin did your monthly checkup, you’re as impenetrable as the walls, when Hoseok tried to approach you with improvements for your home, you brush him away saying you’ve dealt with it with Jaebeom.

Jaebeom.

Whom you’ve only met a month in after you’ve settled into town. Who somehow’s been rumored to visit your house after dark, when the boys you’ve spent two years with haven’t even gotten the chance to step into your home.

Namjoon lets out a shaky breath. You’ve been so unreachable it’s made him cry out of frustration when the nights are dark and the seven of them feel your absence the most in their own quaint home.

They miss you, so much. Even Yoongi who’s as taciturn as they come has tried reaching out to you, working endlessly hard in his own little garden at the back of their house to produce strawberries that you love so much.

“Who’s on the list?”

Hoseok steps in the kitchen and jolts Namjoon out of his longing. He’s wearing his “fight” pants and boots, his gun taken out of the secret cellar and empty go bag slung on his shoulders.

Namjoon pushes his notebook towards him and watches as his friend’s face grow dark at the sight of your name.

“No.”

Namjoon sighs at the conviction in his friend’s voice. It draws in Jungkook from the living room, wearing the same pants and same tension in his shoulders every run.

It’s different when it was just the seven of them, now, they have to lead a bunch of unseasoned people outside the walls just so they don’t go in blind when - not if - shit hits the fan. The loss of the Youngho weighs heavily on Jungkook. They were of the same age, but not the same life experience and ultimately, that was what killed him.

“No, what?”

Jungkook takes in the tension of the room and glances down at the open notebook. “Oh.”

He mouths your name silently, treasuring each syllable. How long since he’s called you? How long since you two talked? Back outside, he liked to believe you and him had a special bond born in the midst of danger and trivial common hobbies from the old world.

He still has that photo card of an old gaming character you two loved.

“I can’t play favorites.” Namjoon states, teetering between duty and keeping you safe inside the walls. If you knew, you’d probably hate him for this, but you don’t.

“You can - you have!” Hoseok slams his hands on the table, the sound echoing inside their house. Everything falls silent followed by footsteps from the second floor. “What makes it different now?”

“The difference is the fact that we lost someone!” Namjoon bellows, his anger and stress rolling off him like waves but Hoseok doesn’t stand down. He knows its selfish, but the only thing that has him going now that you’ve pulled away is the knowledge that you’re safe.

“We always lose someone—“

“It’s not just us anymore, you know that, Hobi.”

Hoseok bites his cheek at Namjoon’s use of his nickname and he could feel the rest watching him like a hawk. All at once the fight goes out of him. It’s true. In exchange for safety, the get a community - for better or worse.

A hand lands on his shoulder and he turns to Taehyung, who in turn offers a strained smile. “At least, she has two of you to keep an eye on her out there. Like old times.”

Hoseok never thought he’d feel nostalgic about the times they’re elbow-deep in zombie gut but — “Yeah, like old times.”

Except, it isn’t like the old times.

Jungkook’s always been an awkward guy around girls, especially pre-apocalypse. He was all long limbs and Bambi eyes, not quite steadfast on what he was as a man and easily shaken by every attractive girl’s attention.

And although he’s grown a bit, confident in his looks and skills in this new world, he still hasn’t mastered the art of rejecting someone.

(He’s never had to, not when it was you.)

And so, he’s stuck at the last meeting with his back against the wall and one of the town’s remaining daughters - Hyerin- crowding his space as opposed to being beside you across the room.

He doesn’t even know that Hyerin signed up for the run, especially with how he’s told her that it’s dangerous and that she hasn’t had the proper training to go out there. It rankles him all sorts of wrong when she said that her father said that “it isn’t as dangerous as they made it out to be” as if they’re lying about the dangers they’ve faced.

And sure, they’ve cleared out a large space around the town of zombies but things can always go wrong, and if there’s anything Jungkook has learned is that things have a habit of luring you to a false sense of security before fucking everything up.

Hoseok’s giving the briefing to their small group of ten, and he could see his friend’s eyes linger a second too long whenever it passes you. You with your hair pulled back and back straight, it almost brings him back.

But then you smile at something Jaebeom says and Jungkook feels his chest tightening on cue. You haven’t smiled nor even looked at him since the start of this briefing. What had he done wrong? What have they done wrong that drove you away?

“We might encounter people on this run, and I want you to remember - people are more dangerous than zombies.” Hoseok reminds the group, “They can think, they can plot - and are much harder to predict. We’ll need someone to bring up the front before we flank the space—“

Before Jungkook could raise his hand, yours shoot up along with Jaebeom’s.

“I’ll do it.”

From the back, Jungkook could clearly hear the murmurs of the men in the group. Someone, someone stupidly brave enough speaks up, “I think you should let the men handle this, darling.”

Jungkook sees you put your hand on Jaebeom’s arm before turning to where the voice is. It’s one of the older folks, large and burly with eyes alight with mockery.

You smile sickly sweet, “Oh? I’m not the one who puked on the side of the road during the last run, am I?”

The man sputters and laughter erupts around him, his friends who were equal parts terrified at the sight of a half-torso crawling towards them last month. It’s easy to laugh when it’s not your ass on the line.

Before he gets another word in, you remind him, Hoseok, Jungkook and everyone in the room how dangerous you were on the outside. And how dangerous you still are here.

“And for the record, could you stomach killing a man when you can’t even finish off a zombie? I can,” you pause the silence being answer enough, “So, no, I’m not leaving this to the men.”

“Antagonizing them isn’t earning you any points.”

Keeping your eyes on the road helps you steady your nerves. Outside, you could see the remains of pushed over cars as your caravan makes its way away from the forest and down the mountain.

According to the last team’s run’s intel, there were traces of people loitering down the town proper and so Namjoon’s sent a team before you get caught unawares.

Hoseok coughs, “Y/N. Are you listening?”

“I didn’t know there were points to earn.”

One line, and its scathing but, Hoseok thinks, at least you’re talking to him. He was afraid he’s forgotten your voice.

He may have abused his power a bit to split you up from Jaebeom but it still makes sense, given that you two have worked together longer outside. You with your speed and him with his agility, you make a pretty good team.

And with your pretty face, people tend to underestimate you until its too late.

Hoseok pauses and mulls over your statement. Adjustment is hard, he knows, pandering to people who don’t know how hard it is on the outside but it’s needed. He doesn’t understand where your dislike of it comes from, so much so you’ve decided to ostracize yourself not only from the people in town but also from them.

(He’s a man. Of course he doesn’t understand. Old or new world, men can only touch the surface of what damage the world has done to women.)

“Y/N, it’s just so we could live with them peacefully. No trouble.”

You finally turn to him and he shivers from the coolness in your eyes. “When have I caused them any trouble? I help out, don’t I? I’m a functioning member of the community - is it required to be all chummy with them?”

Framed like that, Hoseok doesn’t have any answer but a semblance of the truth lying in a question, “Why don’t you talk to us anymore?”

Outside, the caravan reaches its destination and people pour out of the old trucks.

“Is there anything to talk about?”

Of course, of course there is, Hoseok wanted to say. But job calls, and when the sight of tracks greet your group, everything goes back to the back burner.

By the looks of it, there were at least four people about. All with large feet which most likely mean they were males.

Hoseok made a executive decision and sent back all of the group except you, Jaebeom and Jungkook. Given the situation, your group had too many people for this run turned reconnaisance and moving that many people will slow down any retreat you might need to do.

So he sent them back up with a message to Namjoon about the situation. He’ll get a lashing later but he’s sure the guys will understand. A small group is more manageable, but a group with established trust and dynamics (at least with the three of you) is more than ideal.

Your tracking leads the team to one of the larger convenient grocery stores in town. It’s long been looted and cleaned out, but somehow, one of the older craftsmen in the village figured out how to run the generator. Now, it’s store room is being used to hold and freeze any meat and fish you can’t afford to salt. How long you’ll have it running with the generator, who knows?

At what previously was an aisle for chips and snacks, you and Hoseok tread lightly, guns cocked and hands steady, your ears straining to hear any off-beat step as you get deeper into the store. Somewhere across the room, you know that Jungkook and Jaebeom are doing the same, closing off the larger exit.

It’s four on four, the odds may not be on your favor if it comes down to it but it’s not on theirs entirely either -whoever they are.

The morning light filters through the broken glass windows and reflects on your gun as you step forward to the large space at the end of the aisle. At the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook, -free of that girl hanging off his arm- tilt his head towards the large freezer ahead of you.

Behind him, Jaebeom moves to the right, taking position for a surprise attack while you three continue to advance. The freezer’s door is slightly ajar and you could almost make out the conversation and the shadows moving about inside. There’s unfettered laughter and guffaws, pulling you into a false sense of familiarity.

That laugh…

You were so in your head that your next step crushes a stray glass and echoes in the store. For a moment, it rings in the air, suspended like Hoseok freezing to look at you, before suddenly everything just- drops.

Out the door, someone tackles you to the ground, grabbing your gun and tossing it under the shelves. Your head bounces against the tiles and it steals your breath in pain but without missing a beat, you drive the heel of your palm to the man’s chin, hard enough to unbalance him off your waist.

The man rolls to the side and tries to grab your foot before you break free and kicks it to his face. With satisfaction, you hear him grunt in pain before grabbing at you again.

To the side, you see Hoseok trying to reach you, his gun similarly tossed away by the paler and taller man clutching his shoulder, slumped against a turned over cart. You’re ears are ringing, and you might’ve hit your head but vaguely you could hear someone punching someone at the other side of the aisle.

Everything happens so fast - and ends so quickly.

Your vision clears up as a cock of a gun rings clear, pausing everyone’s movements.

In front of you is a face you’d never thought you’d see again. He’s darker, with what seems to be a permanent five o’clock shadow on his jaw, but his eyes light up at the sight of you and a smile stretches on his lips, his hands up but uncaring of Jaebeom’s gun against his head.

“Y/N, long time no see.”

You gasp, frozen on the floor. “Jackson.”

End Notes: Hearts are appreciated but comments are gold. Let me know what you think and if you want to be included in a tag list!

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yoongi-sugaglider · 4 years ago

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Daegu Quarantine

Jungkook x reader

Gang/ zombie apocalypse au

Warnings:

Gore, violence, zombies, mention of drugs and drug dealing, weapons discharge in self defense, main character death, zombies, course language, zombies, drinking, did I mention zombies?

Summary:

They were the top of their game, known throughout the city as the smartest and most dangerous crew to ever hit the Daegu streets. But what’s going to happen when this group of young men encounter something right out of a horror film?

Word count:2325

Part 12===Part 13===Part 14

The moment we pushed into the hotel hallway it was all gunfire and falling bodies. Seokjin made quick work of the men, pushing ever forward in a hail of bullets that pierce the walls and floor with a merciless bite.

Room doors opened with a crash but the bodies only appeared for a moment before crashing backwards into more darkly clad bodies. I couldn’t help but be impressed, the forward push of Seokjin’s wide shoulders a reassuring reminder why we’d kept him around for so long despite the epic cringe that was his dad jokes.

The one moment there was a break in the gun fire Hoseok and I began scouting out the rooms, reassuring ourselves that nobody was hiding in the shadows for our eventual retreat back to the stairwell.

The first few rooms were empty thankfully but the third we tried was a different story. A dark shadowed blur dashed out of the dark bathroom, catching me off guard and slamming me into the wall so hard it knocked the wind out of me and almost caused me to lose my grip on my weapon.

Hoseok acted quickly though, wrapping his arm around the man’s throat and pinning his arm up in the air in a choke hold so fierce it caused his grip to loosen on me instantly. The two fell backwards, fighting for control as I recovered enough to smash the butt of my gun into my former assailant’s temple so hard he went limp in Hoseok’s arms instantly.

We gave each other a nod of thanks, both glad to have the other as backup in this life or death situation.

Out in the hall Jungkook was in a fight of his own, two men having made the mistake of trying to take him on at once. Jungkook’s leg darted out, taking one man out at the knee by snapping it painfully backwards. The fool landed with a scream, clutching his leg as his partner came at Jungkook with an ill placed fist towards Jungkook’s temple. Kook’s reflexes were far too quick though, grabbing the man’s wrist and twisting it sharply in the opposite direction. The man screamed out, high pitched and aching as Kook wrenched his arm behind his back and kicked the back of his knee so that he dropped down to the floor. Jungkook pulled upwards hard, dislocating his opponent’s shoulder with another well placed kick.

A single gunshot rang out, ending the man’s suffering instantly. Jungkook glanced back at me, a manic grin lighting up his face as he watched me eject my clip and slam another home.

“That’s my girl.” He cheered and I couldn’t help but swell a bit with pride as the three of us turned to race down the hall to Seokjin and Yoongi.

The two had already cleared the rooms ahead of us and now stood side by side with Rose. Seokjin was arguing with her as Yoongi glared with a mix of displeasure and what I could only describe as awe at the strange machine she had wrapped in her arms.

“There is no fucking way I’m leaving it behind.” She whined, clutching it tighter and almost seeming to want to stamp her foot like a petulant child.

“We can’t possibly make it all the way back home with you carrying that monstrosity and be expected to protect you AND stay alive.” Seokjin turned to me, his eyes filled with pleading for me to try and talk some sense into her.

“I take it that’s the machine Tae made for you?” I asked. I couldn’t help but stare at the thing, wondering what had possessed her to think to even grab it in the chaos of escaping her room.

“It is. It’s the most important thing in my life besides what’s in my bag. You can’t possibly ask me to leave it behind.” She pouted, fluttering her lashes at me in an attempt to garner a bit of sympathy.

“I’m sorry. But it’s just too much. I mean, yeah you could try….but by the time you got half way down the street you’d be forced to drop it and make a run for it. Those….things won’t care that you’re carrying precious cargo, they’re more interested in your insides anyway.”

She stared down at it, heaving a sigh before turning and gently leaning it on the ground against the elevator doors. “One day...I’ll come back for you…” She stroked the gleaming metal and I could swear she shed a tear.

Turning back to us she hitched up her bag, glancing warily down at the pistol Jungkook was offering her.

“You really don’t expect me to take that do you?” She asked, her voice filled with doubt at the situation.

Yoongi sighed, grabbing the gun and forcing it into her hands. “Listen sweetheart. It’s kill or be killed. We risked our asses to come out here and get you for Taehyung’s sake, the least you can do is cover us.”

She winced and sighed as her fingers wrapped around the cold steel. “Alright...yeah no that’s fair.”

“You’ve got 15 rounds, one in the chamber. Make them count.” Jungkook turned to each of us, eyeing us up and down to check for injuries before glancing down the hall.

“There’s gonna be more in the stairwell, we can’t count on our way in to get back down which means clearing the lobby before we’re out the back way. Tae you still with us?”

“On it boss, back alley is clear for the moment, no activity on the streets. I’ll lose you in the stairwell for a moment but once you’re back to ground floor I’ll be sure to update you if anything changes.”

“Easiest way to the back door?”

Rose chirped up at this. “There’s a hall directly outside of the stairwell, leads to the front lobby. Head straight down the middle towards the back. There’s a kitchen that should be pretty easy to get through. It’s basically a straight shot to the alley from there.”

Jungkook nodded, checking the chamber on his gun to make sure it was clear before nodding once again. “Alright. Head out. Keep your heads down as best you can and your eyes open.”

We each signed off in agreement and began making our way down the hall.

There was an unnerving silence once we were back in the stairwell, each of us trying our best to keep our footsteps quiet as we followed behind Seokjin who once again led the press onward. The silence was shattered quickly though by the sound of gunfire echoing up the center shaft of the stairwell.

I pressed my back as best I could into the wall, arms pulled into my chest and my weapon at the ready as bullets flew by before me. At a break in the firing Seokjin leaned over the railing, spraying a hail of gunfire of his own into the landings below as the rest of us pressed on in an attempt to gain ground on those beneath us.

“Get down!”

My eyes widened when I spotted Hoseok, tiny metal pin in hand as he lobbed a black object into the abyss below. I grabbed Rose who’d been pressed in close behind me, ducking both our heads down as a massive explosion rocked the stairwell and caused all matter of dust and debris to rain down on our heads.

My ears rang, a screaming high pitch tone filling my head with an ache unlike anything I’d ever felt as Yoongi tugged Rose and I to our feet and shoved us down the stairs.

“Christ Hoseok, really?” I muttered, smacking my palm several times into the side of my head as my hearing slowly returned. He only glanced back to me with a grin, fingers deftly rezipping Seokjin’s bag and throwing it over his shoulders.

We made it two more landings down before the gunfire began again, this time aimed far more sporadically and far less in number than before. Our next landing saw the effects of Hoseok’s grenade, bodies hanging limp over the railing and blasted out into the corridor beyond. We stepped over them with zero remorse and continued to dodge the gunfire as we moved on.

Seokjin leaned over the railing once more as the firing slowed, allowing his AK to do the talking as the firing slowed and then ceased all together. We managed to make it down to the ground floor, arms and legs burning from the mad dash down the stairs and ears ringing in the silence following our assailants’ last shots.

Rose leaned against the wall, breath heavy as she clutched at her chest and coughed around her lungs’ desperate attempt at re oxygenating her body. “Fucking hell...being a computer nerd does NOT come in handy in the apocalypse.” She shook her head, knees bent as she coughed a few more times before straightening with a grimace. “Remind me to take up some cardio if we make it out of this alive.”

“We will. And I will don’t worry.” I smiled, patting her on the shoulder and turning to Seokjin who’d taken his bag from Hoseok.

“She’s been a good girl, not gonna lie. But there’s only so much ammo I brought for her.” He sighed sadly, tucking the pink monster away and pulling out two of his favorite pistols.

“Alright boys, final push. Down the hall and through the lobby. Get to that kitchen and push for home. Tae’ll have eyes on us so no worries alright?” Jungkook waited as we all whispered our affirmatives.

On a three count we were out the door and into the thankfully empty hallway. Yoongi covered our rear, steps clipped and sure as he moved backwards with a guiding hand from Hoseok gripping his shoulder. Jungkook had point, weapon moving ever watchful with his eyesight as we made our way to the corner that turned into the lobby.

I could see rubble littering the ground from the explosion that’d taken out the large glass front doors and a massive portion of the cinder block of the ceiling. Bodies were scattered throughout, probably from the chatterers that’d been milling the lobby and had been caught in the blast.

I couldn’t help but wince at the sight of one dragging itself across the floor. There was no lower body to speak of, just a trail of viscera leading from it back to a pile of rubble that it’d surely dragged itself from.

“Fucking gross dude…” Hoseok muttered from behind me, attempting to stave off a gag as we moved into the rays of light cast from the holes in the rubble outside. Our movements were quick after that, rushing past the chattering mass on the ground and into the dark hall that would hopefully lead us to open air and a path out.

***

The kitchen was just as dark as everything else. Thankfully we’d reached it without incident but this cesspool of darkness could very well be our undoing if we weren’t careful.

I closed my eyes, squeezing them tight and opening them to blink rapidly in an attempt to adjust my eyes to the gloom beyond but it wasn’t much help. The murky darkness was basically impenetrable beyond the dim light cast by the hallway door that Yoongi held open for the moment.

My eyes glanced back to the dark silhouette that was Jungkook and his outstretched fist indicating us to hold our positions. He motioned to Seokjin who reached into his bag and after digging around for a moment he tossed a large black mass to Jungkook. The mass was caught with ease and I barely managed to suppress my impressed snort in time as Jungkook pulled what were clearly a pair of night vision goggles over his head.

Seokin really thought of everything, I have to say I was pretty damn impressed.

We all linked up, fingers entwined in the tails of the shirt of the person who walked before us as Yoongi slowly closed the door behind us. The room plunged into darkness and I could feel Hoseok tense up behind me before all thought was on Rose who walked before me being led by Seokjin.

I strained my ears, listening for Jungkook’s footsteps in the lead and trying to match my steps with his.

“Get down!” Jungkook’s voice rang out at the same time as a muzzle flash blinded me from further in the room.

I dragged Rose down with me as gunshots rang through the air, straining to keep her body covered with my own as Hoseok cursed on the ground behind me.

All went silent after a dozen or more shots had gone off and I sighed in relief as Jungkook’s dusky voice muttered out the all clear. But the relief came all too soon.

As I stood, arm wrapped in Rose’s elbow, one more shot rang out, instantly followed by another as I shouted out in pain.

A piercing white hot pain burned through me. Jungkook roared with rage at the front of the line as I went down, dropping to my knees with a whimper as stars exploded before my eyes.

There was no escaping the screaming in my head as bright light flooded the kitchen, illuminating the horror on Jungkook’s face as I reached for him. But it was just too much.

I’d been shot. In some stupid fucking hotel in the middle of a goddamn apocalypse.

I caught the sight of Yoongi, wrapping me in his arms and lifting me from the floor as chaos erupted around me.

The light began to fade as my eyelids grew heavier and heavier. The last thing I could hear as my mind shut down from the pain was Taehyung’s voice in my ear, filled with regret and fear, and one last bellow of anger from Jungkook before I lost consciousness and said goodnight to the world.

#bts boulangerie #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts gang au #bts zombie au #bts fluff #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts imagine #bts x reader insert #my writing

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jungshookz · 5 years ago

Text

hot cheetos and cosmopolitans; pjm

🗡️ pairing: park jimin x reader

🗡️ genre: spooktober day (5/7); zombieapocalypse!au; angst; this is an end of the world drabble so blood has been shed

🗡️ wordcount: 2.3k

🗡️ summary: hot cheetos probably shouldn’t be the first thing on your list of things to find when you’re in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.

(here’s the picture source!)

◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤Ξ◢▅◣Ξ◥▅◤

“so help me god, if you even reach for the chips right now, i swear to god i’ll shoot you.” jimin’s fingers barely brush over the bag of hot cheetos when you call him out

he lets out a little huff and retracts his arm before spinning around to look at you

“it’d be insane of me to not take advantage of the fact that i could eat all the chips i wanted to right here, right now!” he scoffs and gestures to the shelves lined with all sorts of potato chips

you’re surprised there’s still this many bags of chips left

unsurprisingly there’s not a lot in the canned section which was what you were dreading

“i told you to grab the nonperishables-“

“chips count as nonperishable food item-“

“i’m talking about things that are going to fill you up and keep you energised!” you gesture to your backpack before turning around to show him how fAT it is after you filled it up “you know, tuna, beans, soups, stews- water, we definitely need water-“

“you think there’s some coke around here? i miss coke.”

you resist the urge to roll your eyes

you’ll just grab two jugs of waters and then you and jimin can head back to the base camp

you don’t remember a world before the apocalypse

you don’t remember your life before the apocalypse

well

okay

you remember soMe bits

you remember living in a nice neighbourhood in a nice apartment with your soft, cushy bed and your one hundred and one decorative throw pillows

you remember going to a nice university

you remember some of the friends you made at the nice university (including jimin)

you remember the morning of the day the announcement was made

that there was some kind of virus that was starting to spread around town

something about a dead deer? or was it a cow? you’re not too sure

you don’t remember too much of that because you peRsonally didn’t think it was that big a deal

you had bigger fish to fry!

like your psychology midterms and your history papers

and then you remember how pale your professor looked when he walked into class that morning

it was weird

he was oddly vEry sweaty

the bags under his eyes were sunken in and grey

“god, he should’ve just stayed home. then i could’ve stayed home. i could be sleeping right now. we could all be sleeping right now.” jimin mutters under his breath and you nudge his side in an attempt to get him to shut up

professor kim didn’t look… that bad….. right?

his eyes would occasionally do this thing where it just rolled upwards for a brief second and it was kind of concerning how many veins you were able to see from all the way in the back

his jaw would tick every now and then

you remember watching him pace up and down the lecture hall steps as he struggled with explaining walter cannon’s theory of fight or flight

in all honesty the poor man looked like he was about to pass out

and right as you had that thought, he literally collapsed to the ground at the front of the classroom

you remember the hushed silence that washed over the classroom

there was no protocol for this

what do people normally do when their professor passes out halfway through the lecture??

a couple of the students up front rushed over to make sure he was okay

watching your professor jolt back to life is something that you think will stick with you for the rest of time

it was terrifying

you remember pale his skin was

all his veins had gone from a healthy green to a coal black and you weren’t a scientist or anything but you were preTTY sure that veins weren’t supposed to be black

you remember the aggressive gnashing of his teeth

you remember the way he sunk his teeth into namjoon’s arm and you remember the pained scream that slipped past namjoon’s lips

you remember the way the room burst into chaos with people sprinting every which way trying to get out of the lecture hall as quickly as possible

and you remember the way professor kim looked at you while he was practically devouring poor namjoon

you stared into those cold, cloudy eyes and you felt like you were under some kind of spell

the fight or flight response was developed in the early 20th century and occurs when a person experiences very strong emotions associated with a perceived threat

american physiologist walter cannon believed that it was a built-in mechanism that assisted in raining homeostasis of the body

there are several physiological reactions that happen when the fight-or-flight response is activated

your pupils dilate

your heart begins to pound, begins to beat faster

you breathe heavily and you start to sweat

you feel butterflies in your stomach

your muscles tense

adrenaline starts to pump through your veins in an attempt to get you to go go gO

but you remember how frozen you were

you remember how frozen you were as you watched the fresh blood dripping from professor kim’s chin to the ground as he got up onto his feet

poor namjoon was twitching in pain and you remember standing there, truly shocked at how quickly his veins began to darken

namjoon was always very nice to you

he lent you a pen once and told you that you could keep it

you still had the pen

in fact you used it when writing all of your exams

namjoon’s pen was your good luck pen

it was difficult for you to process right then and there that this was the beginning of the end

that you had just watched your zombie professor bite into one of your peers

what the heLL were you going to do??? was it safe to go back to your apartment? how many people had been infected? what happens if yoU become infected?? is this happening back home?? are your parents okay?? is your goLdfish okay?? can goldfish even become zombies????

you were so preoccupied with what do i do what do i do what do i do that you didn’t even realise professor kim was heading straight for you

crawling over the lecture seats with such ferocity and gnashing his stained, yellow teeth wildly

“y/n, come on!” the thing that snapped you out of your trance of shock was the sound of jimin’s voice and the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your wrist

you remember him practically dragging you up the stairs because it felt like your shoes were made of cement

“m-my lunch, i left my lunch-“ you turn to glance over your shoulder and you catch a glimpse of your abandoned lunch bag sitting on your seat before the lecture door is suddenly slammed shut and about ten students are working to barricade the door with spare chairs and desks

but yeah

that’s pretty much all you remember of what happened beFore the zombie apocalypse

it’s just been you and jimin ever since

well, no

that’s not entirely true

there were originally seven of you

jungkook, taehyung, hoseok, jin, yoongi, jimin, and you

they were all jimin’s friends to begin with but the more time you spent with them, the more they began to accept you as one of their owN

it’s weird

it feels like it’s been a long time since you even thought about them

you’ve been so preoccupied with keeping you and jimin alive that you haven’t thought about them

hoseok was the first to go

you guys had stumbled across some kind of field and hoseok, being hoseok, decided he’d pick some daisies and make a flower crown or something since there was nothing else to do

it was like the zombie came out of nowhere and in a state of panic, jungkook (who happened to be the closest to hoseok in terms of distance) just fired without mercy because there was literally a zombie right there and that was his immediate instinct

hoseok, unfortunately, got caught in the crossfire

you guys buried him in the fields

you hadn’t even known hoseok for that long but you remember weeping as you tucked a daisy behind his ear

you tried to make a flower crown for him but it kept falling apart and yoongi reminded you gently that you guys needed to head somewhere safe before sundown

jungkook and taehyung were the next two to go

you guys had reached some kind of abandoned parking lot and jin thought it’d be a good idea to check the cars and see if there was anything useful in there

jungkook had been bitten on the shoulder and taehyung had been bitten on his forearm when he tried to intervene to save him

you didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye to them because by the time you and jimin got back from exploring your section of the parking lot, the deed had already been done

jin was out two bullets and he didn’t want to talk about the fact that he had no choice but to shoot two of his closest friends

and then it was jin

you had never seen yoongi cry before and it was truly a strange sight because he was typically so void of emotion

the three of you walked in silence that afternoon and yoongi went straight to bed that night

and finally

it was yoongi

the thing was, with the virus, if you caught it fast enough, it wouldn’t spread to the rest of you

yoongi, thankfully, had been bitten on the hand, and all you had to do was a quick chOp to his wrist with the machete and he’d be as good as new

“y/n, you have to do it-“ yoongi grunts through gritted teeth as he places his hand on the tree trunk

you can see how quickly the virus is taking over

the blue veins under yoongi’s pale skin are starting to fade which means you have to act now or else you’ll really be in trouble

“i can’t!” you exasperate as your grip tightens around the handle of the machete “i can’t cut your fucking hand off are you inSAN-“

“y/n, just do it!!!!! jesus chriST, just do IT-“ jimin is freaking out behind you because he does NOT want to deal with zombie yoongi but he also doesn’t really want to watch a live amputation

“well why don’t yOU DO IT-“

“because it’s GROSS-“

“how do you think i feEL-“

“can one of you please just-“ the sound of yoongi’s pained shriek combined with the crack of his bones will definitely haunt you for the rest of your life

you thought yoongi would be okay after the amputation

it was a pretty clean cut!!!! it was actually kind of impressive how clean it was

maybe you would’ve made a good doctor

yeah

maybe

you thought everything would be alright

but no

of course, of course it had to get infected

and of course yoongi had to fall sick

and of course you had to hold yoongi as you watched him die in your arms

“please don’t go…” your throat has gone raw from all the sobbing you’ve been doing and yoongi chuckles weakly and reaches up to brush his fingers over your cheek in an attempt to wipe your tears away “please, you can’t leave us like this-“

jimin is starting to get misty eyed as well but he tries his best to keep it together because onE of you has to be strong

“i’m just glad i’m not dying of a nasty zombie bite.” yoongi croaks

it’s obvious he’s trying to get you to crack a smile but you can’t

you can’t laugh when yoongi is dying and there’s nothing you can do about it

the last thing he said before his eyes finally fluttered shut was a) jimin is not allowed near anY chips because he’s going to eat himself sick and b) it’s up to you to save the world

which is how you ended up here

just you and jimin in the middle of this abandoned grocery store picking up bits and pieces of food

“we gotta huStle if we wanna make it back before the sun goes down, jimin…”

“yeah, i know, i know…” jimin turns to shove a couple comic books into his backpack

“here, i wanna read this later-“ you hand jimin a magazine and he scoffs at the cover

“cosmopolitan?? are you for real?? how is- hOW is the 8 types of booty-call relationships going to help us in a zombie infestation???”

“…horny zombies?”

“that’s just nasty.”

yep

it’s just you and jimin against the world

(you snuck a couple bags of hot cheetos into your backpack to surprise him with later)

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a spooky request)

spooktober masterlist // main masterlist

#spooktober 2019 #spooktober 2019 drabbles #park jimin #park jimin imagines #park jimin drabbles #jimin #bts #bts drabbles #jimin drabbles #jimin fics #jimin fic recs #bts fics #bts fic recs #bts jimin #park jimin fics #park jimin fic recs #bts park jimin #reader insert #jimin x reader

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kwanisms · 5 years ago

Text

It Should Have Been Me - dsc

⤑ genre: horror, angst, fluff if you squint, zombie apocalypse!AU ⤑ pairing: Sicheng x Reader ⤑ warning: major character death, mentions of: blood, gore, evisceration, and a whole lot of angst ⤑ summary: When your group gets overwhelmed by a horde, things take a nasty turn, resulting in a tragic outcome. ⤑ word count: 4.8k

a/n: I am so, so sorry. I was playing L4D2 the other day and this idea popped into my head.

“Jungwoo, come on!!” you screamed over your shoulder as you ran, hurtling turned over shopping carts, keeping close on the heels of your boyfriend, Sicheng. You had been out looking, or as Ten called it “hunting,” for supplies to bring back to your base camp when your group encountered a particularly large horde of zombies.

It had been about 16 months since the infection started. No one knew what the cause was, only that it was extremely contagious. Early reports said it was airborne but over time, people learned it was caused by the transfer of bodily fluids, much like a normal infection, only much worse.

The cities went quickly. As panic and mass hysteria set in, looters took to the streets and began rioting. Some entire cities went up in flames from the rioting as well as military jets taking out the infected areas. You were lucky enough to get out of the capital before things got too hairy, losing your family, but escaping with your fiance.

You ran into some survivors soon after leaving the city, a rather large group. They saw you and your fiance, Taeil, and allowed you into the group quickly. They armed the two of you, fed you, housed you, and became your new family. It was only a few days into your new life, while patrolling with some of the others, when you were attacked.

The others were ready to leave you behind but Taeil wouldn’t leave you. He risked his life to save you and in the end, he lost his life. To say you were devastated was an understatement. You were suddenly alone in the group.

Two of the members, Sicheng and Donghyuck took to spending more time with you, not wanting you to be isolated. You were thankful and grateful for their kindness.

About 4 months into your new life with the group, tensions rose escalating in a fight between two of the leaders and the group split with most of the others leaving with the main leader, Taeyong. He asked you to come with him but you chose to remain.

The new group consisted of Ten; the leader of your crew, Jaehyun; a sort of second in command, Lucas; who was in charge of arms training, Sicheng who was also really good at fighting, Jungwoo and Donghyuck; two you were giving medical training to.

As time went on, you grew particularly close to Sicheng, spending a lot of time with him, patrolling together, going on hunts together. He taught you everything he knew. It was about 6 months after losing your fiancee that you and Sicheng became intimate. Soon after, he became something of your boyfriend and your protector. He was extremely fond of you and you of him.

“Jungwoo! Let’s go!” Sicheng yelled as you ducked past him into a fortified alley, aiming your weapon at the zombies chasing after you. Donghyuck ducked past you, his arms full of medical supplies. Jungwoo jumped over a dead body of one of the infected but landed wrong and fell to the ground.

“Shit!” Sicheng hissed as he took down infected left and right, screaming at Jungwoo to get up. The younger male did, scrambling away from the horde as he ran for the alley. He was knocked to the ground by an infected and called for help. You didn’t want to leave him behind.

He had become something of a brother to you, but in these situations, you had to think logically. You looked up at Sicheng who seemed to be thinking briefly. “Don’t,” you said. He looked down at you and you saw it in his eyes.

“Cover me,” he said before stepping out of the alley and heading for Jungwoo. “Goddamn it!” you yelled, taking his previous position and shot down infected as they ran for the two. Jungwoo was on the ground, struggling against the infected that had tackled him.

Sicheng approached and aimed, pointing right at the attacker’s head. He pulled the trigger, killing it instantly and helped Jungwoo to his feet. “Thanks,” the younger panted. Sicheng nodded. “Don’t mention it.”

“Hello?” you screamed, drawing their attention. “Can we go now?” you asked. Sicheng pushed Jungwoo ahead of him and the two ran for the alley. An infected threw itself at Sicheng who was in the rear and the two went to the ground quickly, scrambling before a shot rang out and Sicheng got to his feet, pushing you and Jungwoo ahead of him.

You entered the hideout, Sicheng shutting the fortified gate and then ran the rest of the way to the barracks. Once inside, you shut the main door, locking it and moved everyone into the second set of doors, shutting and locking them. You made your way down into the living quarters, tired and breathless from running.

“What happened?” Ten asked as Sicheng stood against the wall and you rounded on Jungwoo. “You could have gotten us killed,” you said angrily, the younger man shying away from your harsh voice. “Enough, (Y/N),” Sicheng said softly. You turned to him. He was holding his arm. You looked up at his face.

“Sicheng,” Ten said and all eyes turned to him.

“What is that?” he asked, nodding at the arm Sicheng was nursing. You looked from Ten to your boyfriend. He didn’t answer. You crossed the room and moved his hand revealing the worst thing imaginable to you.

A bite wound. You gasped and looked up at your boyfriend who refused to meet your eyes. “Everyone out,” Ten said. You turned to protest but he shook his head. “Everyone. Out now,” he commanded. You turned to take one last look at Sicheng before being rushed out of the room by Lucas.

You sat on your cot, head in your hands as you waited. If he was lucky, Sicheng had 48 hours before he changed. You had 48 hours left with him.

The door to the room opened and Ten appeared, Donghyuck moving past him and retreating to his bunk. Ten cleared his throat and you looked up at him. “(Y/N),” he said and nodded, silently asking you to follow him. You got up and left the room, the door shutting behind you. “How is he?” you asked. Ten let out a sigh and you feared the worst. “The bite isn’t as bad as it looks, but it’s still a bite, nonetheless. We can take any chances of him being immune,” he said and your heart plummeted.

“Ten,” you started but he held up his hand. “Sicheng is like a brother to me. We’ve been together since before the outbreak. I’m not that quick to turn my back on him, but we have to quarantine him. And I mean it. He has to be quarantined. No contact with anyone, including you.”

You nodded, listening to his words. “Donghyuck patched him up, cleaned the wound like you taught him. We’ve given him three days worth of rations in case he doesn’t turn in 48 hours. I’m taking you to see him now. You know how this disease spreads,” he reminded you and you nodded. ‘I can’t even kiss him.’

You followed ten to the other side of the barracks where Sicheng was sitting in a makeshift cell. He looked up at you as you approached and jumped to his feet. “I promised I would bring her,” Ten said with a smile. Sicheng thanked him and Ten left you two alone for a moment.

You approached the door to his cell and he smiled at you. “I’m sorry,” he said softly and you burst into tears. “No,” you said with a shake of your head. “I should be sorry. I should have waited until you passed to take care of them. None of this would have happened,” you replied. Sicheng shook his head. “Don’t you dare do that,” he said, fighting back tears. “Don’t you dare blame yourself,” he added.

You sniffled, tears flowing freely. “I can’t lose you,” you whispered, lowering your head. Sicheng smiled, fighting back his own sobs. “You won’t lose me,” he said reassuringly. “Even if I change and Ten has to kill me,” he said and you looked up. “Don’t say that!” you sobbed.

“Even if it comes to that,” Sicheng continued. “I’ll still be with you, just like Taeil,” he said, reaching through the small opening of the door to caress your cheek. “Everything is going to be okay,” he said as he pulled his hand back through the door. You shook your head. “How can it be okay if you aren’t here?” you asked, your voice breaking.

Hours had passed as you sat outside the door keeping you and Sicheng apart. You had been talking for hours, sitting with your backs against the door, facing away from each other as you reminisced. “I’m not ashamed to admit I kind of fell for you a little back when you first showed up,” Sicheng said with a chuckle.

“I wasn’t about to try and take you from Taeil though. Everyone could see how much he loved you,” he added. You wiped a single tear from your cheek, a small smile on your lips. “He did love me,” you admitted. “But I don’t think anyone has loved me as much as you have,” you said softly.

Sicheng sighed. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you,” he said quietly. Silence fell over the two of you once more. “Sicheng?” you whispered. “Hmm?” he answered. “Are you scared?” you asked. He was silent for a moment. “I think what I’m scared of most is leaving all of you behind,” he said.

“I’m sure it won’t come to that,” he said softly. “Why?” you asked, leaning your head back against the door. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been bitten,” he said and you sat up, turning to look at the door behind you. “What?” you whispered. “I was bitten once before,” he said a little louder. “By who?” you asked.

“My sister.” Your stomach sank. “I didn’t know you had a sister,” you whispered. You heard him chuckle. “Not exactly something I like bringing up. My sister, the zombie,” he joked. “Does Ten know?” you asked. Sicheng hummed in response. “Yeah, he knows.” You found yourself outraged. “Then why is he doing this if you’ve survived this before?” you hissed. “Because, you know how he is. He’s overly cautious. It’s how he’s kept us alive this long,” Sicheng said, defending his friend’s actions.

“The worst that will come of this is that I’ll get a little sick, throw up some, and then I’ll be okay in about 50 hours. It happened last time, it’ll happen this time, too.”

You wanted to believe him. If he had been bitten before and survived, maybe, just maybe he would survive again.

You just had to wait to find out.

You had fallen asleep, you weren’t sure how long you had been out. You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, realizing you passed out in front of Sicheng’s door. You looked around. The door was opened and Sicheng was nowhere to be found. You grabbed one of your pistols from your jacket and got to your feet.

You made your way slowly through the hideout, the lights flickering above you, occasionally throwing you into darkness. You neared the end of the hallway and peered around the corner, seeing no one but spotting a lot of blood on the floor. ‘Oh no!’ you thought as you continued onward.

You heard a slight moan of pain and glanced down the hall to your right. Sitting up against the wall was Donghyuck. You silently made your way to him. “Hyuck?” you asked when you were halfway down the hall. He looked up at you and held his hand up. “Get out of here,” he whispered.

“What’s going on?” you asked as you continued toward him. “Don’t come any closer!” he warned. You were about to ask if he was alright when you heard a deep growl and froze in your tracks. Donghyuck looked down the hall in front of him and yelled at you to run. You started backing away and fell back when Donghyuck let out a scream before a shadow appeared, attacking him, cutting off his voice.

You got to your feet and ran the opposite direction, taking hard turns until someone grabbed your arm and pulled you into a room, shutting the door and locking it. You turned to find Lucas covered in blood. He held his finger to his lips, motioning you to be quiet as more screams rang out from the complex.

“What happened?” you whispered. “He got out,” Lucas whispered back, straining his ears. “Who got out?” you asked. Lucas’ eyes met yours and you shook your head upon realizing what he was about to say. “No,” you whispered. “Sicheng turned, (Y/N). He turned and he got out somehow and he’s attacked the group,” he whispered. “I can’t find Jungwoo anywhere, Donghyuck is dead, and Jaehyun is missing,” he said.

“What about Ten?” you asked and Lucas didn’t meet your eyes. “Ten is dead,” he replied, pushing past you to press his ear to the door. He listened for any sound. Satisfied he didn’t hear any, he slowly and quietly opened the door and peered outside. He stepped out, holding his gun ready and motioned for you to follow him. You did, aiming your pistol down, ready to use if you needed to.

You slowly followed Lucas through the maze of halls as you crept further in, searching for Jaehyun and Jungwoo if they were still alive. You heard a soft thud and froze, looking behind you. Lucas too looked behind you, his eyes searching the darkness. You heard a soft whisper. “Over here!” Lucas turned back around and saw Jaehyun waving at him from down the hall. The two of you hurried over as quietly as you could.

“Are you okay?” Lucas asked, looking Jaehyun over. The older man nodded. “I’ve been hiding in here the whole time, ever since Ten’s announcement.” You stepped forward. “What announcement?” you asked. “He came over the intercom and said Sicheng had gotten out somehow. Turned into one of them and attacked him. He told us to stop Sicheng if we could but to locate everyone else and evacuate.”

You shook your head. “This can’t be happening,” you whispered. “Well it is happening, buttercup,” Lucas hissed and Jaehyun grabbed his arm. “Stop it, Lucas. We don’t need your attitude right now. What we need to do is find Jungwoo and Donghyuck and get out of here,” Jaehyun said.

You shook your head. “Hyuck is dead,” you whispered. “What?” Jaehyun asked but the three of you stopped when you heard a loud metallic thud. Jaehyun took your arm. “Come on,” he said and pulled you away. “I know where Jungwoo might be hiding if he’s still alive,” he said. You followed, Lucas behind you.

There was a sound from behind you. It sounded animalistic, almost like a roar before footsteps pounded against the floor. “Come on!” Jaehyun yelled as he sprinted, pulling you with him. Lucas followed behind as you ran through the halls. Jaehyun pulled you into a room, waiting for Lucas so he could close the door.

“Lucas, come on!” he said. Lucas stopped and turned to face whatever was following you. “Find Jungwoo and get out of here!” he yelled, throwing Jaehyun his necklace that had a key and a locket on it. You and Jaehyun watched in horror as an infected Donghyuck pounced on Lucas. Your eyes widened as he began tearing into him, your ears deafened by the sound of Lucas screaming in agony.

Jaehyun slammed the door shut, locking it before turning to you as he pocketed the necklace. He looked around for some kind of escape and hissed “yes” upon finding it. He pushed a stack of papers off a desk and climbed on top of it, pushing one of the ceiling tiles up and turning to you. He held out his hand.

“Come on,” he said. You took his hand and allowed him to pull you up next to him. He helped you climb up into the ceiling before scrambling up after you as Donghyuck began pounding on the door. He replaced the ceiling tile and started crawling, leading you down a path in the ceiling.

You continued to follow him as he led you away from the pounding and toward a more quiet part of the hideout. After a few minutes, he lifted one of the ceiling tiles and peered into the dark room below. He pushed the tile aside quietly and lowered himself down. He then whispered it was clear and helped you climb down. The two of you slowly made your way out of the room and you followed Jaehyun as he headed for the bathrooms.

He pushed opened the door quietly and let you in first before shutting the door. The two of you cleared the room before Jaehyun whispered. “Jungwoo? Are you in here?” he asked. A small door next to the stalls opened and Jungwoo appeared, unscathed. “Oh thank god,” Jaehyun sighed. “Are you alright?” he asked.

Jungwoo nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay. Where is everyone?” he asked. You and Jaehyun exchanged looks. “It’s just us now,” Jaehyun said softly. He pulled one of his pistols out and handed it to Jungwoo. “Don’t use this until I tell you to,” he said and Jungwoo nodded.

“So what’s the plan?” you whispered. “The plan is this,” Jaehyun started. “We head to the kitchens. Grab as many rations as we can. Head for the medical office, grab all the supplies we can pack. Go to the armory and grab whatever weapons we can and pack as much ammunition. “Jungwoo, you’ll carry the food, (Y/N), you’ll carry the medical supplies, and I’ll carry the ammo,” he said looking around. “Got it?” he asked.

You and Jungwoo nodded. Jaehyun opened the bathroom door and peered out. “Jungwoo, I want you in the middle and (Y/N) I want you in the back,” he said. You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded.

The three of you made your way out of the bathroom and headed for the kitchens. You saw no one on your way down. Once there, Jungwoo grabbed one of the backpacks nearby and started loading it with rations, stuffing as many in the bag as he could while Jaehyun kept watch. You helped close the bag and helped Jungwoo put it on. Once cleared, Jaehyun led the three of you to the medical office.

Once there, you began packing supplies, Jungwoo helping while Jaehyun kept watch. Once the supplies had been packed, Jaehyun shut the door, locking it and motioned for you to get down and stay quiet. You and Jungwoo ducked behind a desk while Jaehyun ducked behind the door. You could hear growling and shuffling. You told Jungwoo to stay silent and slowly peered over the desk.

Outside the door, through the windows you could see Donghyuck. Your heart broke into a thousand pieces. He was a mess. Covered in blood, his skin had turned a nasty greyish, his veins more visible. His eyes were bloodshot, white covering his pupils. ‘Blinded?’ you thought to yourself. ‘I don’t remember that being part of the infection.’

Jaehyun noticed you peeking and motioned for you to get down. You did as he asked and waited, listening as the growls and shuffling moved past the room and further away. After some time in silence, Jaehyun whispered to you. The two of you came out from behind the desk and slowly crawled over to where Jaehyun was waiting. “We’re going to have to stay silent and move quickly,” he whispered extremely quietly.

You nodded and looked at Jungwoo who also nodded. Jaehyun slowly got to his feet, still crouched down and peered through the windows. “I think they’re gone,” he whispered. No sooner than the words left his mouth a figure dropped down from the ceiling and Jaehyun ducked down, motioning for you two to scoot closer and stay quiet.

You glanced up at the window, seeing Lucas shuffling around, he too was covered in blood, his skin the same nasty grey color as Donghyuck’s. He had a chunk missing from his arm and blood was oozing out of his neck where he had been bitten. He seemed to be searching as he shuffled around outside the room.

Jaehyun tugged on your shirt to get your attention. He nodded behind you at the vent on the wall. You turned to look back at him, shrugging. “I’ll hold the door, you and Jungwoo get out,” he mouthed. You shook your head. “No,” you mouthed. “I’m not leaving you behind.” Jungwoo looked between the two of you and the vent before he tapped Jaehyun. “I’ll do it,” he mouthed nodding at the door.

Jaehyun gave him a bewildered look. “No,” he mouthed. “I’m stronger. I can hold Lucas off,” he added. Jungwoo shook his head. “This is my fault,” he mouthed. “I’m the reason Sicheng got bitten. It should have been me.” Your heart sank at his words. “I’ll stay behind. You two get away. She needs you,” he mouthed. Jaehyun stared at Jungwoo in disbelief. “Come on.” you mouthed tugging on Jaehyun.

He switched places with Jungwoo. “Thank you,” you mouthed to Jungwoo who shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he replied. You shook your head and pulled him into a hug. “Me too,” you mouthed, leaning in to kiss his cheek. Jaehyun took the bag with the rations in it and put it on. The two of you crept over to the vent where Jaehyun slowly undid the screws on the vent cover while you watched Lucas through the window.

Once the vent cover was off, Jaehyun helped you up. You pushed the medical supplies through first and started crawling through the vent. Jaehyun turned back to look at Jungwoo and mouthed. “Follow us once it’s safe,” Jungwoo nodded, giving his friend a smile as Jaehyun pushed the food bag into the vent and climbed in after it. He followed your lead as you made your way through the vents. He hissed at you to go left at the fork and you followed his guidance.

Before long, you came to an opening and found the vent had already been removed. You climbed out and waited for Jaehyun. “This is where I came first after Ten’s announcement,” he said softly. “What about Jungwoo?” you asked. Jaehyun agreed to wait for ten minutes and if Jungwoo didn’t show up, then the two of you would leave without him.

A few minutes went by before you heard the sound of someone in the vents. Jaehyun and you moved away, Jaehyun pointing his gun at the vent. You waited, holding your breath as the sound drew closer and closer before Jaehyun sighed as Jungwoo appeared, climbing clumsily but quietly out of the vent.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. He hurried to your side. “The weapons room is just at the end of this hall and then we can use the emergency exit next to it to get out,” Jaehyun said, peering through the open door. “Let’s go now,” he said getting to his feet. You and Jungwoo followed, making your way silently toward the weapons room.

Figuring all the zombies were on the floor below, you headed for the room, shutting the door behind you. Jaehyun gave Jungwoo the food bag and grabbed an empty backpack, loading ammunition and other weapons into the bag. You also grabbed new weapons and filled up on ammo, helping Jungwoo as well.

Once you were loaded up, Jaehyun led the two of you out and toward the exit, only to halt in his tracks. Standing in front of him, facing the exit door was an infected Ten. “Jae,” you whispered. He shushed you over his shoulder. He pulled out his gun and aimed at Ten. “Jae,” you warned him as the zombie started to turn around. “Jae,” you hissed.

Ten had turned completely around and let out a roar, rushing at you. Jaehyun pulled the trigger, placing a bullet between Ten’s eyes, his corpse dropping to the ground. Jungwoo pushed past you and started unlocking the door while Jaehyun fell back into the wall, shaking.

“Hey,” you said, taking his face between your hands. “We don’t have time for this,” you reminded him. “We have to go!” Jungwoo hissed, having opened the door. There was another roar from the end of the hall. You pulled Jaehyun up and pulled him after you, past the doors and out into the rain.

Jungwoo pushed the heavy door, trying to shut it before whatever was chasing you caught up but he wasn’t fast or strong enough. The door was thrown open and you let out a scream as an infected Sicheng grabbed Jungwoo. The two went tumbling to the ground. “Jae!” you said turning to look at him but he was still in shock over having to shoot his best friend.

You turned back to Sicheng and Jungwoo, tears streaming down your face as you got slowly to your feet and pointed your gun at your boyfriend. “Shoot him!” Jungwoo said, barely holding Sicheng back. You took a couple deep breaths before letting out a scream, pulling the trigger.

You sat up, gasping as you took in your surroundings. You were sitting in bed. Your bed. The sound of the shower running caught your attention. Sunlight filtered in through the curtains, casting your room in a soft warm light.

You turned to look at the alarm clock beside your bed. 7:32 am it read. You tried to slow your breathing as the shower shut off and you heard the curtain move.

“Babe?” you heard a voice call from behind the door. ‘It was just a dream?’ you asked yourself looking up as the bathroom door opened, your husband staring at you with a concerned expression.

“Babe?” he asked, hurrying over to your side of the bed, a towel wrapped around his waist. “What’s wrong?” he asked sitting next to you, his hand reaching for your cheek.

“I just had a bad dream,” you said softly as his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly. “Well, I’m here now,” he said leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I know,” you said with a smile. Your husband smiled, getting to his feet. “Come on!” he said as he headed back for the bathroom.

“Get in the shower, we have to get ready and go!” he said as he shut the door, leaving just a crack. You pulled back the covers and got out of bed, walking over to the window to pull back the curtains, the sunlight blinding you as you looked out over the bustling city.

“Babe!” you husband called, opening the door. You turned to look at him. “I love you,” he said with a cheeky grin. You rolled your eyes as you crossed the room toward the bathroom. “I love you too, you big dork,” you replied. “So,” you said as you slipped into the bathroom.

“Do you think your parents will like me, what with us getting married before meeting them and all?” you asked and he stared at you in the mirror. “Are you kidding? They’re going to love you,” he said as you turned on the shower, stripping out of your pajamas to step in.

Before you could however, you felt his arms wrap around you. “You know,” he said in a deep voice. “We could always grab a later flight,” he said, pressing his chest against your back. “Maybe take a shower together,” he whispered, his breath tickling your neck.

“Sicheng!” you giggled, pulling his arms from your waist. “You already had a shower!” you said turning to him. He smiled again, pressing a kiss to your lips. “Was worth a shot,” he said with a grin, pressing another kiss to your lips. You rolled your eyes.

“Remind me again, why did I marry you?” you asked and he gave you a wide grin. “Because I’m amazing and you love me?” he asked. “And I promised to always protect you should a zombie plague ever break out,” he added. “Ah-ha!” you said dramatically. “That’s right,” you remembered. “That explains the dream,” you whispered, watching as Sicheng cocked his head to the side, staring at you with curious eyes.

“Dream? Oh, your nightmare?” he asked and you nodded as he let you go so you could get in the shower.

“Tell me about it,” he said and you laughed. “Oh man, you need to brace yourself for this one,” you told him.

159 notes · View notes

gwoongi · 6 years ago

Text

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 ✰ taehyung (2)

𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗎𝗌 kim taehyung / reader genre: zombie apocalypse au words: 4814

“She did,” Taehyung assured, reaching an arm around your waist awkwardly, but tight enough for you to feel comfortable, and safe, all at the same time. “They did. We did.”

warnings: graphic content, death references, gore, swearing, dark themes

a/n: sorree if it feels a little bit slow paced!! i just want to make it realistic :D thank you for the positive (and small) feedback, it means a lot :”) mmmm the sweet smell of CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. i love slow burns lol :3c ((i also really recommend checking out the music playlist, especially listening to this + this bc. the last of us’ music is DIVINE))

01. denver ↝ 02. holiday with me ↝ 03. sad forever ↝ 04. surely ↝ 05. scorpion ↝ 06. shakespeare

As anticipated, the room connected to the rusted balcony was empty and upturned; the sheets stained caramel were tossed in bundles to the floor, bird feathers clinging to dried pools of rusted water and the smell of bird feces filled the room, overpowering the usual smell of dried sweat and blood.

Each step was meaningful and calculated as Taehyung stepped through the hotel room - because, it was indeed a hotel, as Taehyung noticed by the brass letters on the outside of each door, pulled off hinges and shedding tears of flaked paint. Leaving you behind slightly, Taehyung stepped out into the hall, staring in both directions to the end of the halls, where bodies lay rotting in sitting positions, blood-written messages praying one final time to God. He scoffed to himself.

“Find anything?” you asked, meeting him outside. He shook his head, turning to head in the West direction towards the stairs, knowing the elevator was most definitely down. An orange flicker of the light inside the pried open elevator showed a carcass, rotting and open, a putrid smell leaving through the cracks. You turned away before it sank in how affected the hotel was. Taehyung tugged at your sleeve when an open hotel door showed a bloody crib with barely moving mobiles.

Sticking to the plan you devised on the roof, Taehyung led the way, as if familiar with the hotel. A downfall of the elevator being out of use was the excessive amount of stairs, a waterfall of concrete steps running down to a square box trashed with shredded newspaper and articles of false hope: MILITARY ON THEIR WAY! VICTORY FOR HUMANITY!

Taehyung once believed in it.

The door was unlocked. Pushing it open, a cool breeze kissed Taehyung’s biceps, bare with his coat tied around his waist in a double knot. The foyer of the hotel was dark, only filters of lofty light pouring in from the windows, despite them being dirty and stained with handprints and splats of crimson. Moving away, Taehyung ducked underneath a fallen beam and stepped towards the main desk, checking for maps or papers or anything worth taking.

He leaned over, elbows on the wood, when he noticed a head of hair, facing the wall, arms outstretched and littered with red bites. Beside her, the cord to the telephone swung as if recently dropped, and the static of a radio could be heard louder when he rounded the desk to crouch before the body; it was a woman, with dark skin and brown curly hair, ripped clothing with exposed, shredded skin. Blood cried from her eyes and nose, and Taehyung sighed dejectedly as he pried away a Denver map from her hands.

The hotel was circled in a green pen - Merryweather Hotel. An arrow pointed to it, labelled City 10, Block 18.

“Shit,�� he exhaled.

“What happened?” you asked, stepping over an open bag of luggage to approach him. He rose from his place, meeting you before you saw the body and the swinging mobile, or the cynical piece of paper reading, “May God Be With You”, written in Spanish, if he remembered.

Taehyung passed you the map. “Now we know where Block 18 is.”

You scanned the map, cursing softly when you noticed the markings. “The herd. Where’s the herd, then?”

“I don’t want to find out,” Taehyung replied briskly, nodding towards the doors. “Let’s just get out before we find out the walkers are behind the door to the basement, or something.”

Knowing your luck, it wasn’t entirely unrealistic.

Dampening your throat with hot saliva, you followed Taehyung to the double doors. As his fingers brushed the handle to leave, your heart thumped erratically; Taehyung had barely joined your group, and if he didn’t make it somehow...that would be on you. With little pride, you weaved in front of his arms, opting to take the lead. His gaze felt cold as you pushed in front of him, doing a slow and barely-audible countdown until Taehyung pushed the door for you, grabbing your hand in a swift and tight motion, pulling you into the room seconds before the count of three.

The door slammed closed at on 3, glass pouring to the floor with a loudness that alerted the herd before footsteps did.

The dead’s reactions were delayed, looking up from their meals to see the two of you speeding down the roads, the sound of your shoes slapping against the street echoing in the silence of the evening. Even as they begun to move, it was not fast and you were both able to make it back to the clearing where you had started at. Learning from earlier experience, Taehyung remained utterly silent, except for large gasps for air, and a string of foreign curses when the square was empty, missing Taekwoon’s ride.

They were gone.

“Fuck,” you muttered, mostly to yourself as Taehyung rushed towards a nearby car, shoved in front of the doors to a small convenience store once known as “TODD’S SHOP”. He slid into the driver’s seat, only to rush back out at the sight of a busted radio and torn apart insides, and the lack of steering wheel and pedals.

“It’s busted?” you asked, breathless, as he pulled you by the hand across the boot of the car, and into the desolate and destroyed interior of Todd’s once humble store. He closed the doors hurriedly, already working on fortifying defences.

“Completely useless.”

It’s surreal- you realise, as you scan the store and notice shelves torn off the walls, nails upturned and daunting, lights swinging, that the world can change so dramatically. Even when you try to pretend like most of the world aren’t undead and eating everything else, it’s hard to forget. Everything from the groans to the fallen stuffed animals is a reminder.

Somebody else had set up camp in the same spot. A small den had been made by pushing two display tables together, an L from the desk making a perfect sleeping station, already kitted with a cool gas lighter, and a thin and uncomfortable looking mattress and a hard pillow, stained slightly with a creamish substance that looked familiar to your high-school years. But, at this rate, anything would have to do.

“Over here, Taehyung,” you called, voice exhausted but loud enough to carry to his ears. He looked over his shoulder, briefly scanning the store as he walked robotically towards the makeshift bed. Dropping to a crouch, he craned his head to look at the bed, a frown of disgust evident on his features. But, being alive made him grateful, and he said nothing as he moved around you, occupied by your bag, to sit with his body on the edge of the mattress.

“I don’t have any food to share out,” you said quietly, but he remained unbothered.

“Don’t worry,” he replied, fingering your shirt from the back. “Maybe we can find apples on the way back.”

At that, you smile genuinely, fiddling with the gas lighter. “Apples?”

“Yeah. I saw an orchard on the way to your camp. Big green apples.”

With the flame lit timidly, you faced Taehyung with a small and vacant smile. “I like red apples more.”

“Me too. But, you can’t be picky when the world is ending,” he shrugged, and a chill slid down your spine. Masking your sudden somber mood with a faint smile, Taehyung stuck out an arm for a second pillow as you lay down beside him, facing away from the window. Taehyung leant over you, reaching to pull the blanket acting as a tent to block the auburn sunset and the thumping of biters outside the door.

“I’m sorry.”

Taehyung paused, moving his cheek across his own bicep to look at you, smushed against his arm.

“Me too.”

“I’m supposed to be the leader. I’m- I’m supposed to lead and set an example for the group,” you croaked out, feeling your eyes burn with dry tears. “You shouldn’t have come.”

A low hum left Taehyung’s throat. “Maybe. But then you’d be all alone and that walker would have got you.”

You scoffed, at that: “Jisoo would have been my partner.” A silence. “I hope she made it out.”

“She did,” Taehyung assured, reaching an arm around your waist awkwardly, but tight enough for you to feel comfortable, and safe, all at the same time. “They did. We did.”

You could barely remember the moment you woke up and left Todd’s old shop, just knowing that it was before the sun came up and in total silence. Fragments of thought- Taehyung sitting up with you still in his arms, a shake awake, and a quick jump out of the back window towards the forgotten trail into the thick woods. An avoidance, he had said, or something similar. To skip the walkers. You said nothing.

As expected, you rightly predicted that on foot, it would take nearly three days to return to camp. Sticking to the main road unless absolutely necessary, you found that you felt undeniably safe by Taehyung’s side; he walked several feet ahead, in a system designed by you, out of boredom on the long road home. You both walked along the dusty chalk-line in the middle of the road, looking forwards and to the left, backwards and to the right. Every sound was heightened in the silence, but the only thing to put you at ease was the familiar click of Taehyung’s gun, the occasional groan when his bat hit his knees and the comforting sound of absolutely nothing at all.

Cutting from the road to a trail in the woods, the sound of gravel and discarded beach pebbles underneath your boots became a familiar soundtrack as the pair of you walked along an abandoned train line, passing by a Caboose cabin on the way back home, fog slithering down the mountainous wall surrounding the Denver area.

Taehyung was right, too- on the way along the tracks, a big and blooming apple tree hung over the dip between the tracks and an ebony coloured stream of water, with giant green apples swinging in the breeze. Taehyung had helped hoist you up to pick four apples for the journey back, the first food of the day. The original sourness became a drug in your mouth, a taste so addicting that the four apples intended to last four hours lasted ten minutes. You simply tossed the cores to the side, hoping a tree would grow in the world that stopped working.

Further towards the warehouse, it became familiar enough to talk. Taehyung talked first, keeping the conversation clear and above the surface, mentioning his sister once again and the one time they went to Memphis for Spring Break and got lost. After almost dying alongside him more than once, it was impossible to fight the urge to know more about him. To debunk the mystery behind the new member who arrived with the gash in his leg, three cigarettes in his boot, and a stolen Scorpion-owned pistol covered in a crocodile skin protector.

Following the ancient-looking trail back to the warehouse, where the hills got steep, you could see the tops of the barbed fences enclosing the hideout, and a wave of relief washed over you. The atmosphere had changed drastically, and your feet moved quickly up the hill despite its efforts to deter you. Just a little bit further ahead…

Reaching the top of the hill, it took less than three seconds to recognise that something was wrong. The approaching puffs of air didn’t pull your gaze away from the swinging gates, very much open. Taehyung rested a hand on your forearm, confused. “Why’d you stop?”

His gaze lifted tenderly, noticing the opened gates and he hesitated, devoid of expression and breath. The wind stopped. Birds paused their singing. A cloud covered the sun.

Then, all at once, you broke out into a sprint, running towards the camp to see it in literal ruins. You had been gone less than three days, and everything had fallen apart without you. You should have noticed warning signals from the rising smoke on the way back home, but with a non-threatening camp just miles away from your own, it was always hard to tell the source. Part of the warehouse was alight, smoke stuck in the ceiling but nonetheless smelling out the place, and newspapers and colouring books fluttered like wings in the wind, carrying a smell of burning flesh with the familiar smell of oil and charcoal, burning paper, the smell of burnt toast.

Majority of the vehicles were gone, except one small Nissan Versa in a decorative black, although now painted in ash. A pile of blood, and a trail of dragged red towards the spot where the cars once were made your stomach churn, and the sight of a hand sticking out from behind the dumpsters, a hand that was human, was enough to make you cry out, in agony, staggering towards the dumpsters to find the mauled and maggot-covered body of little Yena.

She was too young. Way too young.

“Y/N?”

Sniffing, and turning to Taehyung with tear-stained cheekbones, you met his somber gaze as he passed you a sheet of sooty covered paper. Your reaction was delayed, but you nonetheless turned from the sight of Yena mangled up and gingerly took the paper from his hands, feeling the comfort of his fingertips brushing your own, gaze distracted on the corpse by the dumpster.

Y/N.

I hope you’re reading this. I hope it’s you, and not somebody else. It needs to be you.

We arrived back to camp with every intention of coming to find you the following morning. As I’m writing this, we have very little time. I’m in the car while the others deal with the biters. They’re in. They got in. They got Yena by the gate without us knowing. We think she’d gone to get flowers from the meadow, and got caught by one on the way back inside.

Yena didn’t make it.

With what we have left, we’re heading to Georgia. While the group were gone, we got a signal. From a group of survivors who have a boat with extra spaces. We made connection and managed to guarantee us seats on the boat. With Yena gone, at least we’ll have room for us all to safely cross the waters to somewhere new.

We’ll wait for you for as long as we can. We love you, and I hope you’re safe. Taehyung, too. I hope you made it out alive. We left a car. I hope it’s there for when you come home.

Please come. May God be with you.

Or whatever you believe in.

Doyoung.

“They’re gone,” you said finally, your voice scratchy from crying. Without even knowing, Taehyung had lead you away from the sight of Yena and towards the car. He’d put a sheet over her, to keep whatever dignity she had left. He pulled open the door for you. “They’re safe.”

“I know,” Taehyung replied, gently pushing you into the car. “Buckle up.”

The door shut, and instead of doing what he asked, you popped open the footwell, taking out a pen from the small leather pouch, drawing a wonky line from Colorado straight to Georgia. Pointing out the obvious, but enough to occupy the seconds alone inside the car. Taehyung moved into the seat next to you, closing the door and locking it for good measure. Thankfully the car was fully filled with petrol, and Taehyung sighed with relief when the engine started smoothly.

“Do you know how to drive?” you asked suddenly, and Taehyung looked at you with a deadpan expression, one eyebrow quirked.

“No.”

“Are you kidding me? No, get out, we’re switching. I can’t believe-”

“People are coming back from the dead and eating each other, and yet you can’t believe that I can’t drive?” Taehyung asked, almost offended. “Put your seatbelt on, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “I don’t fancy dying because you drove us off the road.”

“Why do you have, like, no trust in me at all?” he asked, a sigh in his voice as he reversed the car. “Just because I don’t have a license doesn’t mean I can’t drive safely. I got an Alton Towers drivers license when I went on holiday to England, so, it technically counts.”

“...Are you fucking with me?.”

“Deadly serious,” he nodded, smiling when he saw you grinning in the seat beside him. “I did laps around that track like my life depended on it, and I took the license to school and told kids I had passed my test.”

Leaning over to switch on the radio, you shook your head. “You’re full of surprises, you know.”

He shrugged. “I’ll take it. Which direction is Georgia?”

“That way,” you estimated, pointing an arm in the direction on the map. “You ever been to Georgia?”

“Six months ago, I’d never really been anywhere except for New York,” Taehyung replied. “You?”

“Nope. It’ll be like a holiday for us both,” you said, settling into the seat with the sound of a random jazz CD playing quietly. “Is that okay? Going on holiday with me?”

Taehyung pretended to think about it, and then looked over with a faint smile ghosting his lips, eyebrows quirked with an essence of playfulness. “I couldn’t think of anything worse.”

OCTOBER 27TH, 4 YEARS AGO. [x]

“What do you mean, you’re not going to Uni?”

For October, it was warm. Jiyong walked alongside you, his hands balled into fists in the pockets of his green bomber jacket, knees nude in the rips of his jeans. Just further ahead, Seunghyun led a trail of smoke towards an alley walled by chainmail fences, a lime-green light creating a path towards a low hum of chatter, his boots crunching on broken bottles and Autumn leaves.

You shrugged next to him, brushing against his shoulder. “I dunno, really. Can’t afford to go.”

“Uni’s do bursary now,” Jiyong said. “For people who don’t have a lot of money.”

“I appreciate it, Ji, but, I don’t think I’m fit for Uni,” you replied, exhaling a shaky laugh. The small group of high-schoolers made it to the end of the alley, stepping into the back-street submerged in a midnight silence, Denver lights creating bokeh effects in the after-rain landscape.

Minding the dark puddles, you walked in a short silence to a series of stairs leading to an abandoned subway line that expected construction months ago. Down them, students and late-nighters congregated near the train-lines, the familiar smell of weed and cheap Vodka in small dugouts in the wall, and you inwardly cringed as the three of you walked further down the subway station, towards a second staircase leading up, opening up into an abandoned street, where the hum of chatter became roars of excitement. Further ahead, bright nude lights outlined the buildings lining the street, and an accelerating vibration wriggled down the street, shaking the chains on fences, sending Seunghyun into an episode of excited dancing, cigarette slipping through his fingers and dying in the swimming pool of rainwater that flooded a nearby drain.

“Even Seunghyun is going to Uni,” Jiyong continued, irrelevant to the fact that you simply did not have the money to go. “You can’t leave us.”

“Sorry, Ji,” you said quietly, patting his shoulder gently. “It’s just not gonna happen.”

Jiyong watched as you left, his eyes lingering on the imprint left on his jacket. Stepping towards Seunghyun who was already steps ahead, he excitedly tugged at your sleeve, pulling you at a fast pace towards two large open iron gates, past bleachers and towards a once-alive-but-now-abandoned race-track, the type you saw on TV once, the type racers in the area used to practise for Formula tracks. By large barrels painted neon red, two parked race cars revved their engines, the crowd screaming with the bass-line of a song imported from Korea, courtesy of the star racer, Kwon Hyojong. Apparently Jiyong knew his family.

“What’s this about Uni?” Seunghyun asked suddenly, arm swung around your shoulders.

“Not you, too,” you groaned, removing his arm. “I can’t be arsed right now.”

“I’m just asking!” he responded, surrendering by raising his arms. To the side, Jiyong approached a group of girls you recognised from school. “I’m not here to lecture you like he will. He’s known you longer, so it’s part of his programme to mother you. Me, on the other hand…”

He trailed off suggestively, meeting your eye with a small and friendly smirk. Rolling your eyes, you nudged him to move, walking alongside him towards the barrier near the track. Across the road, the second racer, Johnny, took photos with some guys wearing glasses.

“I can’t afford it, after Mum, and everything,” you said, honestly, concentrating on the circles massaged into your skin by Seunghyun’s thumb. “But, it’s okay. I’ll still be in the area. You’re thinking of going to Denver Uni, yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips once. “Still close enough to see you.”

“See?” came your voice, strained but nonetheless positive. Seunghyun smiled vacantly, hands on your body, sandwiched between the bar and his torso. “You won’t even realise I’m not there.”

“...Y/N.”

PRESENT DAY.

“Y/N.”

Jolting awake, your elbow slid off the door of the car, attention pulled away from the memory to the man beside you. Taehyung had been driving wordlessly, the radio quiet, the rain loud enough to send you to sleep. As the car passed the “WELCOME TO OKLAHOMA” sign on the left side of the road, his gaze had landed on your body, abnormally curled up on the seat.

Stirring, limbs sore, you rubbed your eyes clear of sleep, yawning. “‘sup?”

“Away out where the West begins, you’ll find Oklahoma!” he sang, a childish smile present as you groaned in annoyance.

“Already?”

He made a voiced confirmation. “Three minutes ago.”

Pulling the car into a slip-road, you straightened in your seat and took back the map that had slid into the footwell at some point during the journey. Taehyung looks after absentmindedly, his gaze heavy and content watching you scan the red lines on the map, oblivious to the empty road ahead.

“You mumble in your sleep,” he said finally, and you catch your tongue between your teeth suddenly, flinching towards him with a perplexed, and almost afraid, expression.

“I do?”

He nodded, humming. “Yeah. Little things like the weather. The Elvis vinyl.” He wriggled his brows, smirking.

Without realising, you sigh in relief. “Wish I could mumble out a way to cure this thing.”

Taehyung smiled a tight-lipped smile, his features giving away that there was something he wasn’t saying. To his relief, you didn’t notice; your attention was poured onto the map meanwhile he drove, silently, nearing a clutter of cars stained brown and ashy-white. He exhaled slowly, letting the car roll.

“We’re stopping?” you asked, looking up.

“I’m just gonna check something,” Taehyung assured, smiling once and pulling the keys out of ignition. The car jerked violently as it stopped, the radio cutting, the rain washing the front window. “Stay here.”

“Taehyung, no, I want to come with you-”

Without being rude, Taehyung opened the door and silenced your protests, locking it for good measure as you angrily pulled at the handle, glaring through the raindrops as he stepped, drenched by the minute, towards the barricade of cars blocking the road. He stood quietly, hands on hips, analysing the situation: if he moved the cars, it would clear the road, with the definite outcome of attracting walkers with the noise. Letting out a sigh, Taehyung looked around the area, noticing small community apartments lit with China lanterns, a banner with running ink reading: STILL ALIVE, but he couldn’t take any risks.

For now, at least, his own responsibility was keeping the both of you alive. No matter what it cost him.

Over the short ride across Denver, there was plenty of time for Taehyung to get to know you, to find out more about the leader of the group who took him in when nobody else would. He barely scraped below the comfort zone, only getting an age- the same as himself, aged 21- and a birthday, the name of a poem you wrote aged seven, the name of a family pet you had who passed away months before the outbreak. In return, you learned Taehyung studied Economics and Music at NYU and that he liked jazz music, which explained the torturous loop of whatever CD had been left behind in the car.

It wasn’t enough to start a friendship. But it would have to do.

Returning to the car, he sank into the suede seat and started the car back up, the lights switching on and the saxophone solo continuing.

“Nothing?”

Taehyung shook his head, reversing. “Nothing that wouldn’t cause attention. There’s a road, over there. I’m hoping it will take us right around the mound. Close your window- anything could pry it down.”

You didn’t argue. He knew what he was doing.

The car rolled silently, moving away from the barricade of cars and instead down a left-hand backstreet, cutting underneath a large junction, the old shed-sales company redundant and rotting with wet mould. The windscreen wipers cut away the stains of rain, clearing a view for Taehyung to manoeuvre around discarded bodies and open drains, the occasional biter trying to move from beneath a fallen lamppost, or groaning behind a fence too thick to bite through.

“Imagine how cool it would be inside an IKEA right now,” you said suddenly, staring at the large blue building just off the road, littered with biters in the car-park. Taehyung snorted. “I’m serious. Maybe we could pretend life was normal.”

“This is normal, now,” he replied, his voice quiet, as if afraid to be loud. “I don’t think I could get used to going back to how things were. Not after what I’ve been through.”

“I get that,” you nodded. “It would be nice to sleep on a real bed, though.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

Further down the road, as the car cruised past an open alley looking outwards to a flooded stream littered with blood and guts, the atmosphere shifted. It was the type of moment where the air becomes clammy and it’s hard to breathe, even harder to pretend like nothing has changed. On command, the radio signal wavered, the smooth vocals of a singer you didn’t know crunched into incoherent static, and out the corner of your eye, you took note of the way Taehyung gripped the steering wheel tightly.

“Y/N, seriously, put your seatbelt on this time,” he said warningly, his gaze flickering to the shaking seatbelt that hadn’t been worn once during the trip. Sensing danger, you did what he said, putting your seatbelt in the slot.

Cautious of speed, Taehyung drove steadily down the road, ready to turn back onto the street when someone jumped in front of the car. She- it was clear enough to decipher that it was, indeed, a woman- slammed her palms flat on the bonnet of the car, eyes crazed and blood pouring from her lips. Unexpectedly, the car halted, making you thankful of the seatbelt.

“Please…” her voice said, quiet but loud at the same time. You glanced at Taehyung with a frantic gaze, noticing that his hand was ready on the gear-stick. “They’re gonna come for me. They gonna come. Take me with you. Get out, I’m takin’ your car.”

She moved in stutters, her body moving before her legs, like the shake of your body with a cough. Taehyung reversed slightly, bumping the tail of the car into a biter who had picked itself up from the corners of the abandoned shed company lot, its face sneering through the back window.

“They’re gonna kill me,” she repeated, but Taehyung didn’t budge.

“Taehyung- she’s-, we-”

“Get out the car or else I’ll kill the both of ya!” the woman screamed, violently lunging at the driver’s window, hands fisting the glass.

“Go!�� you screeched, pinching the skin on Taehyung’s wrist as you gripped the steering wheel. “Please, go, go, go, go-”

Stepping on the gas, the car pushed forward at an alarming speed, a trail of thick black smoke blinding the biter but nonetheless drawing in more from the shadows, staggering and swarming towards the woman painted in crimson blood, her elbow white and exposed, the skin curling up with an infection, a bite on her neck.

Turning in your chair, you felt compelled to watch; the premium viewing experience, watching her get torn to pieces by her neighbours, a childhood best friend, a lover. Their grown fingernails scratching at her skin like needles to paper, the sinister sound of her screams attracting herds of biters from across the town, eager to taste. As Taehyung drove away, fast enough to avoid the mob but slow enough to save gas, it was harder to look away. Harder to look away from the beauty that was death.

NEXT CHAPTER.

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gaegurikyu · 6 years ago

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You Promised

Pairing: (Seventeen) Mingyu x Reader (y/n)

Genre: Zombie Apocalypse AU, Angst (like lots)

Warnings: Major Character Death, Mentions of blood, Stabbing

Word count: 1,273 [Masterlist]

Summary: "Please, please, please. You have to do it, please Mingyu." You shuddered to the man infront of you, you nudged your leather covered knife into his shaking hands. Winding his fingers around it with your own and letting out a small sigh of relief when he finally gripped it on his own, pulling it closer to his shivering body.

A/N: This is my first story on this new blog so I hope its a good post. It was really hard coming up with something that could inspire me enough to write a longer than blurb story so sorry if its a bit short. With Seventeens comeback 'Home' I've been pretty whipped for them, (Go stream Home for clear skin!!!). I actually made myself cry writing this, I pictured it as a really intense and intimate moment in my head and thats what I hope shows, lol,,,, anyway

'This wasn't supposed to happen. This was never in the plan.' You thought to yourself as you leaned back against the kitchen cabinets. Readjusting yourself on the floor, your badly ripped and torn leg laying on a small cushion stolen from the living room couch. 'Jihoon said there was only a small horde at the eastern base. Some small horde that was.' You chuckled as you glance down at your shin, bite after bite littered one after the other. The bleeding had stopped, but the infection was obvious. A bile color crawling towards your thigh through your veins and you knew your time was limited.

'The boys will be sad. Oh god, Seungcheol is going to cry so much, isn't he?? I wonder who's gonna patch them up now, not Mingyu. That's for sure.'

And at that thought, you turned your head to said boy. He hasn't moved from his previous postion, his head laying against the fridge, his body is curled in and his limbs are limp. He reminds you of a ragdoll, one push and he would crumble to the floor. You gently slapped the spot on the floor next to you, signalling the tear stained cheeked boy next to you.

He obliged and scooted, leaning slightly on your form. His head going to lay on your shoulder and a small hiccup (the aftermath of crying since you escaped to this house) escaped his tightly bound lips. You intertwined his hand with yours, leaning your head on top of his.

"Gyu, do you remember that blizzard we went through? Before we found the base, when we got separated from the others and camped out in that small cabin?"

"Of course I do, we we're so cold. We had barely eaten anything for weeks." He sniffed back at your recall of a memory created years ago. Tighting his grip of your hand on his last sentence.

"We promised each other there, that if one of us were to get hurt, the other would bury them and carry on. And live."

You hadn't thought about that snowy night in a long time, but now that your time was getting cut short, the promise had been a prominent reoccurence in your consciousness.

That snowy night. It was only Mingyu and you. Huddled by a fire, hugged by one shared blanket. Back then you guys were just kids, dumb teens trying to find anywhere that was safe, scared of what the world had become outside those doors. You both weren't sure if you would survive the sub zero tempatures or if the rest of seventeen would find you two in time. With the sleepy talks of dumb old world questions like 'what we're you gonna major in college?', your promise had sparked. Along with a small romance that grew along the way.

But now all that had come to a close, the sun began setting outside the glass panes of the small barricaded house. You felt yourself become weaker and a wave of lightheadedness hit you, reminding you of the toughest favor you would ever have to ask again.

"Mingyu," you said sitting up and turning your body to face him completely. You opened the side pocket of your belt, Mingyu knew what you were implying but he refused to accept it just yet. The tears flowing out of his eyes for the 80th time in the past hour. You swallowed back tears of your own, you placed a palm against his face, wiping his tears with your thumb slowly.

"Mingyu, please. I don't want to turn. I don't want to hurt anyone, I don't want to hurt you. Baby please, you promised. Please, please, please. You have to do it, please Mingyu." You shuddered to the man infront of you, you nudged your leather covered knife into his shaking hands. Winding his fingers around it with your own and letting out a small sigh when he finally gripped it on his own, pulling it closer to his shivering body.

You wish you had saved atleast one bullet. It would have made the whole process less painful, mostly for him. You wish you had climbed the ladder faster. You wish you had stopped Mingyu from opening the storage unit. You wish you hadn't gone on the stupid supply run in the first place. You wish you had ignored Jihoon's orders like always and just gone to the small greenhouse near the base instead, where you and Mingyu had spent hours together, sometimes starring at each other, reading to eachother, sometimes other things. Anything would have been better than forcing him to keep you from turning in the only way possible.

You leaned your head against his shoulder and you cried. You cried for the first time since you were bit. This was it. You were going to die, you'd never see home again, you'd never see the boys again. The family you had created in the multiple past years. You'd never see Mingyu again. You would never kiss his lips or make him smile or share a small dinner in the solitary of the lookout treehouse. This was it.

You swiftly lifted your head after you felt the small shakes of numbness run through your legs to your arms. You lifted both wobbling hands and caressed Mingyu's face. "I love you, Kim Mingyu," you said quietly, trying to keep your voice from cracking.

"I love you more, Kim Y/N." He says, his voice cracking at your name. He leans foward and catches your lips in his. As you kissed, you could taste the bitter flavor of his tears and those of your own, but it didn't stop you both from sharing your last. You stayed like that for a few minutes before you rest your head against his shoulder once more, your lips against his ear.

You whisper gently, "Don't remember me like this Gyu, remember me when we were smiling together. Live well and healthy for me, or else I'll be mad ok? Come back for my body, bury me by the treehouse. Tell the others I love them too. This isn't goodbye, just see you later, ok? Ok, ok," you mumble tiredly, "I love you." Your embrace on him tightens and you close your eyes.

The sound of Mingyu pushing the sharp knife into your chest is short and quick, but Mingyu is sure the gruesome sound will haunt his mind for the rest of his life. As your body finally goes limp against his own, he breaks down. Hugging you by the shoulders and holding a hand against his mouth to keep his cries of pain and saddness from reaching the monsters of the outside. Your blood is warm and at that moment, Mingyu wished he had been the one bit instead.

He passes out from sheer exhaustion not a mer five minutes after your death, and your motionless body is still in his arms when he wakes up the next day. The sun streaming onto his face as he wraps a blanket around you, carrying you to the couch and moving you into a somewhat comfortable postion. If Mingyu hadn't been the one to stop your heart from beating than he might have believed you were peacefully sleeping. Hell, he might have kissed you awake if he had just walked into the situation. But that wasn't his reality. Not anymore.

Everyone turned to the sound of the heavy metal gate lifting open and watched as Mingyu weakly walked in. The rest of seventeen caught his harden and stained face, the way blood coated his clothes chest down. Blood too clean and red to be that of any undead.

When they saw the gate close behind him, without you in tow. Smiling or holding Mingyus hand like you usually do, they just knew. The atmosphere grew thick, some beginning to shed tears, as they all went to grab the gear they needed to retrieve your body. A routine they never thought they would have to go through for you.

#seventeen imagines #seventeen au #seventeen #kpop #kpop imagines #seventeen mingyu #mingyu #reader imagine #kpop au #kpop angst #seventeen angst #i dont think this story is that good but fkcmdklsls i have to post s o m e t h i n g #i hope someone likes this atleast 😅#content: gaegurikyu #gaegurikyu

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hollandroos · 7 years ago

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Apocalyptic Pt.2

Part 1 - Peter Parker X Reader Zombie Apocalypse AU/ This has a walking dead feel to it. Peter saves the reader from being killed but she doesn’t exactly react as he’d expected.

Summary: After Peter saves the reader again, neither of them want to be alone again (even if neither of them will admit it) this means they have to learn to deal with each others presence all while trying to stay alive.

Words: 1468

You woke up a small, pained groan. Your head was still thumping, probably from hitting the gravel and your eyes burned due to the sudden change in contrast.

To say you were shocked to wake up was an understatement. Seconds before you’d passed out you’d thought that you were either going to be killed by the stranger- Peter, or left to be zombie food.

You looked around, taking in the room. The walls were painted a dark grey, though it was hard to see from the amount of blood and grime. It smelt like death too, did you really want to imagine how many people died in here? All in all a part of you was relieved to be indoors, not out with them. The other part was telling you to get up and run.

You noticed now that his hair was longer than you had originally thought, extremely knotted too. But the bags under his eyes were the most noticeable feature. It looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, this wouldn’t surprise you.

He sat only a few meters away going through a fresh bag of supplies. You saw Canned food ranging from peaches, beans, corn, soup and even a can of pears. There were water bottles, first aid supplies, a fluffy coat or two to help with the raging cold. They were items that were scarce and if seen by the wrong people, could cause a fight to the death.

You sat up slowly, feeling the blanket bunch around your waist.

“Are you going to kill me?” You ask the long awaited question, he had every advantage right now. While you tried to hide the fear in your voice you couldn’t stop the way your hand shook slightly. Not having a weapon in hand was now a foreign feeling. It made you feel anxious and vulnerable.

“No, unless you try to kill me then i’ll have no choice” He says it so blankly, almost as if he’d had the same question asked before. His eyes were cast downwards for a moment before he looked up. His eyes looked softer than the last time you looked into them. There was no longer that almost deadly looking fire they held when he struck his knife through the skull of those walkers. No, this time they held concern.

It didn’t take long for you to notice your jacket and gloves lay next to you, torn shoes on the floor besides the makeshift bed.

It’s silent between the two of you for a few moments before he lifts his head, noticing your wandering eyes. “I had to check for bites. I hope you don’t mind, I just didn’t exactly wanting you turning into one of them and trying to ya know… kill me”

A part of you wanted to yell at him but the other part understood his actions.

“It’s okay” You say, your voice rather quiet and hoarse. Your throat was sore and scratchy, probably from the dehydration. Through It was almost like you’d suddenly forgotten how to speak after only mumbling the odd word or two to yourself for weeks on end. “Thank you for saving me, once again”

“While you may not believe it yet, there are still a few decent human beings out there and I happen to be one of them” He says, a little too harsh for your liking.

“Can you blame me? I’m sure we’ve all been through things in the last couple of months, lost people we thought we’d never lose. People have changed” You reply, sitting up completely but keeping the blanket wrapped around you tightly.

Neither of you wanted an argument right now, you were both to utterly exhausted.

“While you were out I found a small bakery with little supplies left- but some none the less” He hands you a bottle of water and a bar, one that your Mom would’ve put in your lunchbox when you were a child. When the world hadn’t turned to shit. “I hope you aren’t allergic to nuts”

You wanted to turn down the food, refused his help and leave but you were starving, your head was thumping and the possibility of passing out again soon if you didn’t get some kind of substance was high. Plus the bar looked good, slightly expired but after living on plants and road kill your mouth was watering at the sight of packaged, pre apocalypse food.

“When do you want me gone?” You ask, swallowing your first bite of the bar. You knew your stomach would kick you in the ass for this in a few minutes, it's been awhile since you’d had something so… normal. “I can be gone in a few hours, half an hour at the least”

“What? You can’t go yet, you’re still recovering, you did hit your head pretty bad after all” Peter was quick to reply, his eyes wide. “Stick around for a few days, just until you feel better then we can go our separate ways”

You found yourself considering the idea. It sounded wonderful to have an actual person to talk again even if it was just for a few days. You wouldn’t allow yourself to get attached to someone in a time where any one was expendable though. All it took was one bite and you’re as good as dead.

Letting your guard down was a fear nowadays and by considering the idea of sticking by his side for a bit was a way of letting your guard down, and letting your guard down often meant getting killed.

But something about him was so alluring. Maybe it was the fact that he was around the same age as you and had been surviving on his own too, or how he’d bought you back to his safe haven when he could have just left you for dead, it could’ve even been he worry in his eyes when you were getting set to leave.

“I guess I could stick around for a bit, but this isn’t permanent though” You remind him. He sends you a small, but broken smile and finishes organising his supplies. “So how’d you get so good at this, I mean you have more items than most of the scavengers i’ve run into plus you can fight like a pro- I’ve only seen moves like that from the Avengers” You laugh lightly at your last comment, but still you’re interested in hearing about where he learnt what he knew.

Peter remembers the people he called his friends, the people who taught him everything. The Avengers weren't dead that’s for sure, but simply split up after being attacked by a herd. “Before all of this I was friends with a pretty cool group of people. They taught me everything I know from fighting to searching for necessities. We became sort of like a family”

For the first time ever, he misses the days back at the compound when he’d be pulled out of bed at 5am sharp for a training session with Cap, sometimes Natasha. He’d be hurting for days after getting his ass kicked by Nat.

“Where are they now?” You tilt your head.

“Why does it matter to you?” he snaps.

Your face hardens, all sign of pity and remorse gone from your features, though the feelings remain. For a moment you assume they had all been killed.

“They’re alive, I know that much” Peter finishes, noticing your sudden change of appearance. “How about you? You must’ve had someone at the start, where are they?”

You look down, clenching your teeth and refusing to look Peter in the eyes.

In the short span of a couple hours, maybe a day depending on how long you were out for you’d felt all kinds of feelings for the boy in front of you. Anger, Gratefulness, Pity, Now Frustration.

“I don’t want to talk about it”

Peter scoffs, standing up and grabbing his knife and for a second you think he’s going to finally kill you but that quickly changes.

“I’m going out to look for more supplies, I saw a day and night around the corner and wanted to check it out before someone else does, I’ll be back soon”

“I’ll come to” You offer, standing up and sliding on your coat. He pain in your head has gone down to a dull ache, one that’s bearable.

“You just woke up after passing out from dehydration, are you sure you’re up to it?” He asks, quiet rudely if you must add.

“I’m not useless Parker” You take a look out the window, checking for any of the dead before slipping out the door, Peter right behind you, prepared to strike anything that threatens the two of you.

After everything, why did you still crave his company?

Request part 3 here!