#the red death infection
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firefly-ghoul · 6 months ago
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THE RED DEATH
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Warning!!! If you are sensitive to illness, blood, death, body horror, killing, and caniblisam do not read!!!!
I had sooo much fun writing this! I This is mostly just headcanons and explanation of the infection. I will be writing a more in-depth story to go with this so stay tune for that! Please give feedback it’s much appreciated! Now with that all said and done! Here’s the story! Not edited yet.
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The first stage of infection
fever, fatigue, coughing, low appetite, and headaches. The infected only appear to be mildly sick. Not as contagious as the later stages. But they are still contagious.
The second stage
chest pain, congestion, nose bleeds, and trouble breathing. The infected will start to hallucinate things.
The third and last stage
coughing up blood, constant nose bleeds, By this stage those who are infected start becoming aggressive and attack people. The infected will use all of their last remaining energy attacking any and everyone. It’s suspected the reason infected attack is because of the hallucinations. The infected will soon loose strength over a week and slowly die. One of the ways the infected attack is bitting and scratching. Do. Not. Get. Bitten….
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The first members of the congregation infected was a group of five siblings that left the ministry to go out and get seeds and luxury goods from the neighboring city’s.
After a few days back the five siblings were bedridden and sick. soon more members of the congregation that had been in close contact to the infected siblings fell ill.
cases of the infection skyrocketed all over the world. Officials called it the red death, Not long after the first announcement hundreds of letters were flying in by the day. abbeys all over the country were reporting red death cases.
And soon all the abbeys were put in lockdown. Papas orders no one was to leave the grounds or enter. All communication was cut with the outside world and the other Abby’s.
The ministry luckily has a gardens on the property. the Abby was mostly self sufficient with the exception of electricity. Good thing for candles and fire places.
As head doctor of the ministry omega, got together a team of ghouls with quint magic. All of whom previously volunteered in the hospital. Quickly omega, aether, sunshine, swiss, phantom, and aurora all worked together to figure out a solution for the spread, containment and cure of the infection.
The team of ghouls suited up in old plague doctor uniforms and quarantined anyone with symptoms in the old abandoned hospital wing. eventually all those who were infected first became aggressive attacking the ghouls. sadly this is how they figured out that ghouls were not immune to red death.
Aether was bit on the ankle during the attack However with the help of his and omegas quintessence magic they figured out that it slowed the spread. And since Aether was full of quintessence magic the infection barely affected him. He is at stage one of the infection.
Since his body is constantly using quintessence magic he is very fatigued and gets lightheaded at barely any exertion. He has been put on bed rest, but he is still helping any way he can, documenting his experience and trying to find a cure. He knows he’s close he just doesn’t have all the pieces to the puzzle.
Aurora was not as lucky as aether. She had taken her mask off because the glass shielding her eyes shattered when she fell trying to get away from the attacking infected. The other ghouls did not get infected and helped get her and aether to safety during the attack
Her right eye was scratched out by one of the infected. The attack also left the right side of her face heavily scarred and disfigured. Unlike aether she isn’t fully quint so the infection affects her more so than aether.
She has nose bleeds and headaches. Aurora also has a hard time breathing if she’s too active. Luckily the small quintessence’s she does have keeps her from going to the third stage. And with omega and phantom infusing magic into her she is mostly stable. She hasn’t been able to look herself in the mirror since the attack. She has trouble walking without help she now uses crutches to get around the Abby.
She and aether boned over their shared trauma from the attacked. They both have been staying in the Library researching as much as they can for the cure despite being told to stay in their shared room. Sometimes, when exhaustion gets the best of them, they just sit in quiet companionship, supporting each other with silent understanding.
Soon infected from the town’s and city’s stated flocking to the ministry attacking anyone that left the building. The situation quickly deteriorated into chaos.
the food rations were dwindling due to the fact no one could get to the gardens and orchard outside. Desperation grew as the days passed. Survivors within the ministry began rationing what little they had left, and tensions rose among them.
Soon the papas, sister, and saltarian all gathered to discuss what in the hell’s they were gonna do. Surprisingly copia was the one to suggest mercy killing the infected that wander the property. The brothers was quick to agree with him however Sister and saltarian were harder to convince. Both soon caved with the brothers already discussing battle plans
Terzo and secondo both offered to help in the fight but copia refused. If the fight was unsuccessful the ministry needed the papas alive.After the meeting copia was suited with a plague mask and marched to the church door with the ghoulettes at his side.
Copia armed baseball bat and his two ferocious lionesses cirrus and cumulus set off the clear the Abby grounds of infected.
The three of them stared taking down infected one after another. Soon not many infected were still alive.
Soon the ministry was able to farm again. But copia cumulus and cirrus go out every day to make sure no wanters are causing trouble. Soon things started to get better. For now
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perversion666 · 2 months ago
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album covers ⛧
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galaxygermdraws · 6 months ago
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so instead of get back into art after the basic recovery of my surgery, I instead replayed Mario and Luigi Partners in Time…and why does nobody talk about this game?? Hardly ever see it in the Super Mario tag. Like. It’s actually insane how dark it gets. People die. Like actually die. Not as dark as SPM but like we see the dead spirits of Toads get siphoned through tubes. They had their life force sucked out of them via genetically modified trees. Yoshis were eaten by a larger alien Yoshi and were gonna be turned into more alien Yoshis via a factory IN THE GIANT ALIEN YOSHI. We see a town that’s literally just “Christmas is Cancelled” the city. Their mayor probably died. We never see these places restored because there are no survivors to restore them. The citizens of Hollijolli village probably all died by the time the bros shut down the Vim factory. And also there’s the entire scene with the Star Gate. Like. Hello??
maybe I’ll stream or let’s play this game and share it here because I think. More ppl should talk about Partners in Time. I’ll say it too: I like it more than Bowser’s Inside Story. By like a LOT. That’s my ramble for the night. Ttyd day tomorrow. Yippee
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p1nk-matter · 7 months ago
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ok hear me out: bubonic plague au overhaul x reader fanfic set in 1340s in some miserable European city like Paris or 1660s London.
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fourtytwo42 · 9 months ago
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(CW:GORE)
Some sketches from work using Kleki..mouse and keyboard art is no joke T-T
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You might have to turn up brightness to know what’s going on lol, Red themed portfolio for my color blind brothers rip.
(Sorry for low quality posting from my phone rn)
[ID]
Three sketches of dragons all in colors of red. They are all dripping with blood and death. All of them are at various stages of decomposition. The first is a feathered dragon who’s face has rotten away. The second is smooth dragon whose mouth and skin has begun to pull apart and melt off. The third is a dragon impaled on several spears, the expression is angry, and blood drips dark and thick from their wounds.
[END ID]
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knotty-pink-hair · 4 months ago
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Pikmin Fanfiction
Log 2…“Harvest Area 63: Giants’ Garden”
“You’re not going to hurt it,” Klark said. He had his arms crossed. The squad of 14 rockmin stood next to him. Their beady eyes watched me with enthusiasm.
I reached out and gripped the stem of the single rockmin in front of me. A chill blistered in my chest—it felt wrong.
“I won’t hurt it,” I said to myself.
I reached back and threw it. The rockmin soared past the pink honeywisp, missing. [a harmless, flying insect that carries an egg]
“Hurry, the wisp is gettin’ away,” Klark snorted. The piebald egg slowly passed over our heads as the creature flew above us.
I whistled the single rockmin back to me; took its stem in my hands once again and pulled back. This time I managed to hit the wisp, and it sped away with a sharp cry. The rockmin swarmed on the dropped nectar. I watched in amazement as several leafheads rapidly bloomed into purple flowers.
“Huh,” I said.
“Well done. Your rockmin is unharmed, and you gave the wisp a concussion.” Klark plucked the rockmin and handed it to me. Looking into its face, I didn’t see any fear.
“I don’t understand why it trusts me.”
“You must not overthink these things,” Klark said. He whistled loudly, charged the squad toward a cluster of pellet posies. The new flowerheads rushed ahead of the leafheads, overtook the stems with violence.
I kept pace with Klark. “The pikmin only met me yesterday. We’ve built no bond yet.”
“Nah, no, don’t need it,” he said. “Pikmin are much simpler than that.” He pointed at his antenna as he jogged. “They think we have stems just like them and that’s good enough. We look like family. They instinctively trust us.”
“But…the antenna glow?”
“All the more exciting to pikmin. Like radiating blossoms.”
We stopped short at one of the large, red boulders [bricks]. Klark tapped on his kopad. In a second, the S.S. Fledgling and the onion soared over our heads, landed nearby. Klark blew his whistle again, signaling. The rockmin ran back and forth from the red boulder wall to the Fledgling, their little arms outstretched to carry clay. We would need them to construct a mound to reach the top of the wall where a cluster of fruits rested—12 to collect all before sunset. The number of enemies over the wall was something like 43.
I glared at the mound. My first battles laid ahead of me.  
We stood and observed the rockmin. Next to us, partially buried, rested another monolithic object left behind from the Giants. It had a metal head and a soft handle [trowel]. When the rockmin completed the construction of the mound, Klark divided the squad into two units. I set my rockmin to excavate the object in the ground. Klark left my side; disappeared into a patch of black corral bells. 
Nearby, Zileke rode atop of Yew holding tight to the dog’s collar. Her squad of yellow pikmin tore away at an electric wall. I flinched watching the sparks fly. I could hear her over the comm system snapping at them to hurry up.
Zileke would be over the red boulder wall before us, which meant I needed to get ahead of her to clear the path. I wished she’d slow down. This was my first day on the field. Was she always going to be like this?
I checked my kopad to track our progress, felt a jolt of fear as I saw a local harvest team encounter a massive enemy. I hadn’t seen any enemies comparable to this size; this beast dwarfed them all. Little by little the dots representing pikmin winked out. Something was eating them.
Total annihilation. That could happen to us.
A rockmin blurred as it shot past my head. I snapped to attention. Klark continued to hurl them toward me. The rockmin impacted on the ground, screamed as foliage suddenly moved; red eyes appeared, and serrated forelegs. One of the leaves wrapped its forelegs around a rockmin, worked its mandibles, and pulled the victim into its mouth with alarming speed. This rockmin, already half-consumed, wailed with deafening desperation; petals flew off its stem in a flurry of violence. I charged forward and grabbed the rockmin by its stem, attempting to wrench it from the creature’s mouth.
Rockmin rained down from above and crushed the creatures—desiccated skitter leaves—causing them to drop stiffly. I fell backward with the single rockmin in my arms. It was reduced to a leafhead once more. Its face was severely scratched so that it could only see out of one eye.
I thought it was trembling with fear as well. It took me a moment to realize it was my own arms that were trembling. The rockmin winked at me as if nothing had happened.
Klark gave me such a look of impatience. He said in an even voice, “Put down the rockmin. Get to your feet. With me, now.”
We stopped at the now completed mound. Klark looked at me, simply motioned with his hand for me to take up the whole squad of 15 rockmin. There was a piece of fruit just beyond us, and I assumed that’s what he wanted me to collect.
I nodded, whistled the rockmin to my side.   
How could I let those skitter leaves sneak up on us? I didn’t notice—damn it. Okay. Move on. Clear the path for Yew and Zileke. You can do this. Eliminate all enemies.
I crossed my arms to stop their shaking. We climbed up the mound and entered a valley with soft, loamy soil. No enemies present. A cluster of dusk pustules [purple grapes] lie on the ground before us. I charged the rockmin toward it.
Klark was frustrated with me. Is that why he commanded me up here on my own? He thinks I’m weak.  
The rockmin stood around the pustules and took turns ripping them from the vine. Hup hup hup they chanted as they marched back toward me each carrying one pustule.
I checked the map on my kopad, taking my eyes off the rockmin, being careful to make sure we were safe. Then I saw a blur of white in my peripheral vision.  
We were ambushed by two whiptongue bulborbs. [large two-legged ladybugs with spindly tongues]  
***
I returned to Klark with only three rockmin and 40% damage to my suit. My helmet contained fractals of hairline cracks from the beasts’ tongues. I hyperventilated, panicked, tried to rip off my helmet. Such a stupid thing to do. Just like when new divers panic underwater and try to remove their masks.
Klark ripped my arms away from my helmet.
“You killed the two whiptongues?” He asked.
“I lost so many pikmin!” I shouted at him, breathless. “No! No!”
He whistled a squad of redmin up the mound to collect the bulborb corpses and the pustules. My three remaining rockmin stood around me, emotionless expressions on their little black faces.
Why didn’t it bother them to see their siblings die? Didn’t they understand?
“Thistle, you’re our security officer,” Klark said calmly. He kneeled and looked me in the eye. “You will see a great deal more of this, of death. Get used to it. Those bulborb corpses will be used to make seedlings. You’ll have more rockmin tomorrow—”
“We had it—we—”
“—and they’ll blindly follow your every command just like the last squad did. They’d follow you right into a pool of water and drown if you commanded them.”
“—didn’t show up on the radar. Why weren’t the whiptongues on the radar—we weren’t ready—I didn’t know.” I swallowed a few times.
Klark deliberated a moment, added, “That’s because I took the whiptongues off the radar before I sent you up.”
I panted, staring wide-eyed at him.
“You what?” I whispered.
Klark replied, “You need to overcome the shock of all this. You know what your job is. And if you like, I will send you back to Koppai and your juice plant. Maybe you’re better suited for that.”
My rapid breathing caused steam to fog up the inside of my helmet.
“No—no, I will not do that,” I said, though it turned into a growl.
“The reason I tested you, Thistle, is because there are certain circumstances where enemies may not appear on your radar. Technology is fallible. You need to be prepared for the unexpected. It’s as simple as that, and I don’t care that it’s your first day. Understand?”  
I nodded, kept my mouth shut. My mind raced with images from the attack: the blur of the pink tongues cutting through the air, the wet sheen of the bulborbs’ massive eyes. I had made eye contact with one of them, felt this awful stiff feeling on the surface of my skin, of hair standing up on my arms, some kind of animal instinct within me feeling the closeness of death.
Klark observed the redmin as they marched by carrying the two enormous whiptongues. Their spindly tongues dragged on the ground.
Hup hup hup the redmin chanted.
“Heavy bastards,” Klark said. He gave me a moment to get my breathing under control; my kopad chirped over my spiked cortisol levels. Then Klark pointed toward the redmin. He was singling out an individual, but through the cracks in my helmet it appeared to be multiple redmin. It followed behind the others, kept stopping to look around, to look at us, as if it was thinking.
“You see that?” Klark asked me.
“Yes. Is it confused?” I asked and got to my feet.
“Mmm,” Klark mumbled. “I want Axiom to look at that one. Something’s not right there.”
My legs still trembled. A blurry memory of last night passed through my mind—the one redmin sitting beneath the onion, staring at our ship.
Had I dreamt that?
***
Back at basecamp, Yew slumbered on the floor next to our dining table. Zileke sat on the couch applying an ointment to her abdominal muscles. Her half-drank juice bottle rested next to her. Klark was outside setting the perimeter motion sensors.
“Already need a new helmet, huh?” Zileke asked. I noticed a bruise on her side.
“Yes,” I said quietly. Are you going to antagonize me now?
“Pssh. Tough break. Sorry to hear it.” She popped the cap back onto the ointment. “Glad it wasn’t me though.” Zileke took a brush from the counter and sat on the floor. She ran it through Yew’s fur, and the fat lump rolled onto her back. “Don’t go breathing in too much oxygen, Thistle. You might turn into a leafling,” she said without looking at me.
We said nothing for several minutes.
Then I said to her, “My transport ship went through an electric field before we landed here. We briefly lost control of everything. Is that what causes all of the castaways on this planet?” Zileke nodded, kept running the brush over Yew’s belly.  “Don’t they know that? Why does it keep happening?”
She shrugged. “A little electric field isn’t going to scare off rich citizens from traveling where they want to. They just have to pay taxes to the Rescue Corps to come and get them. Easy.” She pulled a bramble from Yew’s fur, but the dog did not react whatsoever. “None of our problems are their problems, Thistle. You know the rich families on Koppai don’t experience famine. There is always juice for them. And there are always harvesters to collect that juice.”
She eyed the gloves I was wearing. I slid them off my hands and drank deeply from my bottle—freshly squeezed juice from the dusk pustules.
A reward after so much death.
I remembered the rockmin I pulled from the skitter leaf’s mouth. Had I saved it only for it to be eaten later by the whiptongue? From the mouth of one beast to the mouth of another.
Maybe Klark was right. I shouldn’t think so deeply about these things.
I stood up, one hand on my head. I began to walk toward the sleeping quarters when Zileke spoke over her shoulder.
“Don’t get too comfortable. Klark wants to juice all of the harvest before turning in for the night.”
I turned around and looked at her.
“Hey,” she said. “It’s in accordance with crisis procedures. If I die, Klark dies, you die, you know, whoever is left needs to juice the fruit for pickup. Otherwise, people starve back at home. Even if you’re dead, there’s work to be done. Get it?”
I nodded, came back, and sat at the table again.
“Zileke?” I said.
“What?” She looked up at me. Yew also opened her eyes and looked up.
“We are visiting the S.S. Sentinel in a few days to meet Axiom.”
She pulled a clump of fur from the brush. “Yes, it’s another part of crisis procedures. You need to know how to run night expeditions and collect glow sap in case too many teammates eat shit.” She gave Yew’s belly a smack. “You’ll make cure vials with Axiom’s apprentice Vivette. You know there have to be procedures for this type of scenario. If everyone around you is turned into a leafling and…incapacitated…you’ll need to produce and administer cure.” She snorted. “Trust me, if we ever got to that point, you should just hunker down in the ship and wait. Let the Rescue Corps deal with it.” She took a long drink from her bottle.
“Mmm, that’s not what I wanted to ask you about,” I said quietly.
She stopped short, licked her lips. “Eh? Then what do you want to know?”
“Have you noticed the one redmin behaving strangely? How can Axiom help it?”
A pause.
“Oh, not this again—it’s just a pikmin!” She shouted. “They don’t behave strangely. They listen. They work. They make a lot of little noises. Klark is on his bullshit don’t listen to him.” She paused, drained the rest of her juice from her bottle. “I don’t want two of you filling my ears with conspiracy theories. This kind of work is already conducive to insanity.”
She called for Yew, and they both disappeared into the sleeping quarters. I picked up her bottle and mine to wash them in the sink. Outside the window, Klark stood in the moonlight with his hands on his hips staring up at the onion.
How on earth does he know one specific redmin is acting strangely? How can he tell it’s the same one every time? They all look the same.
“We’d have to mark it somehow,” I said to myself. Tie a ribbon around its stem or give it a collar. Something like that. I went to my sleeping quarters to rifle through my belongings.
***
I stood next to Klark, half-asleep, with a giant empty bottle in my arms. He clicked away on a screen. A green zest bomb [lime] dropped into the feeder tube and then the pusher crushed it against the juicing cone. Green pulpy liquid poured into a bottle and then another, filling them. The aroma of citrus flooded the room. My mouth watered.
“Thistle,” Klark said firmly.
I flinched. “Ye-yes?” I asked.
“I said put that bottle over there. I over-estimated. We won’t need it.”
“Okay.”
I placed the bottle on an open shelf next to the refrigeration units. Klark pushed past me and retrieved a half-filled bottle of juice left over from a tremendous sniffer [pear]. He fitted it into the machine and let the remainder of the bottle fill with the last of the zest bomb. The resulting liquid was electric, cloudy green.
We loaded the bottle into the fridge. I imagined Aster back at home putting her chapped lips to it, drinking deeply. I’d rest my head on her shoulder, breathing her in. She’d take some of her ivory ribbon and thread it through my hair. She liked my hair better when it was down, she’d say, and I’d mumble something about shaving it all off so it wouldn’t get in my face.
“But if you shave off all your hair, you’ll be ugly,” Aster would say.
“I was ugly when you met me, first of all,” I’d say. That always made her laugh.
She was asleep by now. I hoped she remembered to submit for additional rations next month for the twins. I always had to do it; she’d never remember to do it.
“Thistle,” Klark said.  I flinched again. “Let me talk to you a moment.”
We walked to the kitchen and sat down. I tried to sit upright and appear alert despite my exhaustion. I hoped like hell this conversation wouldn’t take long. I was afraid I’d nod off in the middle of him talking.
“Recount to me the day’s work,” he said. “Everything completed after the whiptongue attack. Be brief.”
I did as he asked. Construction of two bridges over lakes. Elimination of all 43 enemies in the harvest area. Collection of 12 treasures. Sparklium converted to fuel—fuel gauge at ¾ full. Discovered and logged coordinates of two caves. Received communication from adjacent team KoCo Freight 3433 to supply 212 units of raw material. Supply run approved. Scouted basecamp boundaries for enemies. Provided security for Zileke to complete pup training—Yew learned skill Swim II. Team reported back to basecamp.
I waved my hand.
“Sunset, juiced the harvest. I will file an incident report for my helmet,” I added.
“Hmm,” Klark offered.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out a spool of ivory ribbon.
“I can tie some of this around the redmin’s stem so we can keep track of it.”
“Hmm.”
“You don’t think that will work?”
“It will untie it. Tried that three different ways already.”
I folded my fingers together.
“I’m surprised it would do that.”
“Hmm.”
“Is it sick?”
“Could be.”
“So then Axiom will look at it?”
“He might observe it for a few days before performing an autopsy.”
“Oh.”
“Most likely a fungal infection in the brain affecting neural activity. It hasn’t tried climbing at all, but I suspect cordyceps.”
I shivered.
“Thistle,” Klark said. This time he looked me in the eyes.
“Yeah.”
“This isn’t easy for me to say, but you’ve surprised me. I had you sorted out in my mind. Now I’ve had to change my initial impression. You know, new recruits face their first battle and depending on their reaction, I can immediately tell if they will make it as a security officer.” He leaned back in his chair. “Your interaction with the desiccated skitter leaves concerned me. They were even able to sneak up on you.”
“Ehh,” I offered.
“And you seemed afraid of hurting your pikmin, which is an inherent risk of harvesting. Then you went up to get the dusk pustules, and you faced off against the two whiptongue bulborbs. The battle went poorly. Twelve rockmin lost. You were emotionally incapacitated and did not retrieve your prey or fruit.”
It sounds awful hearing it all laid out like that.
He paused. “And yet I was astonished at your rebound from the incidents of this morning. You completed excellent work for your first day. That feral way you have about you came back out. All of the enemies you faced after the whiptongues did not cause you to hesitate. You engaged, you commanded your rockmin. I feel as though I’ve seen two different recruits today.”
Oh.
He paused again, picked up the ribbon to admire it. “Zileke and I will escort you to the S.S. Sentinel for your five days of training. During this time, Axiom will observe the redmin. I will expect you to euthanize it when the time comes. This is usually how these things play out. Can’t have infection spreading to the onion.”
“Okay,” I answered. “How do I—”
“You’ll feed it some medicated nectar and then wait for it to fall asleep. Its heart will stop within a few minutes of consumption.”
We both walked to the sleeping quarters. We said goodnight. I stood in the doorway to my room for a long time thinking about the day, remembering the bruise on Zileke’s ribs. Yew had kicked her when they’d been in the water training for Swim II. I had guarded them during the time, observing them now and again, and I could tell the dog had a fear of diving. She hated putting her head underwater—a necessary skill for Yew if she was to keep advancing. Zileke appeared to be in denial of this and went on swimming beside Yew, talking to her, giving commands. I thought it was a waste of time, but I knew better than to give my opinion.
I took a shower, nearly fell asleep standing upright.
Back in my sleeping quarters and wrapped in a towel, I stood in the middle of the room dripping onto the floor. A sense of malaise had set in. Aster theorized my bouts of discomfort meant I was murdered in a previous life.
I didn’t like the idea of living numerous lifetimes and facing starvation in each of them. 
I laid in bed staring at my cracked helmet that rested on the bedside table, thought of the duplicating images of the redmin.
***
That night I dreamt I was a pikmin. I ran with the others in my squad, heard the sharp cry of the charge horn as we rushed toward a pile of gold. Some of us collected it, ran it back to the S.S. Fledgling while some of us faced off against some unknown enemy. It was a bloated, furry thing with two legs or sometimes six; a long neck, a white head with a false mouth. The real mouth was at the base of the neck, hidden in the fur. Keratin plates on its back flapped up and down in a hypnotic display. The horn sounded out: charge the enemy! Charge the enemy!
My squad cheered as they advanced, myself among them, the sound of our breathing loud and steaming in this cold place; and I looked up at the creature, felt fear sharply lodged in my chest, but a hysteric fervor ignited my being, our victory was certain. And as the front line latched onto the beast’s fur, beginning to climb, there was a hot release of gas from its body; this hit our faces, and stopped me dead in my tracks; too quickly, instantly it seemed, the beast teetered backward, its belly bloating and stretching the skin to translucence, and the abdominal cavity burst open flooding the battlefield with hot viscera. Pikmin slid, collided with each other, screamed hysterically as the wave of acidic blood washed over them and began dissolving their bodies. In only a few seconds, the battlefield went quiet as the last of the survivors—all molten scarlet bodies—collapsed and went still.
And I felt the heat of all of it on my skin. I panted, my breath rising in this cold place. I was alone. When the body of the beast collapsed in its own entrails, I peered into the open abdominal cavity. I could hear something inside, something chewing.
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ladychandraofthemoone · 2 years ago
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ᚷᚨᚺ ᛉᚨᚾ ᛏᚨᚲ ᚷᚨᚺ ᛉᚨᚾ ᛏᚨᛏ ᛏᚨᛏ ᛒᚱᚨᚲ ᚷᚨᚺ ᛉᚨᚾ ᛏᚨᚲ ᚷᚨᚺ ᛉᚨᚾ ᛏᚨᛏ ᛏᚨᛏ ᛒᚱᚨᚲ
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So uh listening so many folks Verison of Tot Musica which rock btw, it’s fits very well with Kyle ,
it’s resonates with his resolve m, his determination, his desperation to give everyone peace and hope, a world where no horrible things happen (he was involved in a war and it costed him his life and humanity now he’s a ghost yet at the same time a godhis only regret was that he failed to reliever the supplies to those in need and that he didn’t get to say goodbye to Stanley) since he could bring a little luck with his lamp a prison
and has to deal with the fallout from those who aren’t please cause man trying his hardest he can’t be everywhere at once, him being only known as the lucky lamp or proteus and not reaching other folk’s expectations disappointing them and his mental toll on his sanity and health as he’s unable to communicate with the living for 50 years,the lamp not gotta let him go too easily folks with malicious intentions attempts to bring harm to him due to his abilities and others close to him among other things
This would all come crashing down and give Kyle a breaking point sooner or later cause man is gotta snap and he’s gotta go haywire, with gold dust arms, tears glowy eyes and summoning creatures of his own creation you name it he’s gotta be like Uta
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nightingale-prompts · 3 months ago
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Lazarus What?!
Phantom pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to take in what he was just told.
"Explain it one more time. I need to know if I got this right." He said his frustration mounted.
They were standing at the edge of the Lazarus pit. The Ghost hero had been searching for wells formed from ectoplasm on this planet.
"We-" Superman spoke first.
"YOU SAW A BIG FUCKING POOL OF OTHERWORLDY GOO AND DECIDED TO SWIM IN IT?!" Phantom exploded.
"Well, it does heal and revive people," Flash said hidden behind Wonder Woman.
"Well that makes it perfectly safe and healthy for you doesn't it," Danny said sarcastically. "It's not safe at all! You people are just tossing corpses into this thing and think it's a miracle that people come out alive! This stuff is a waste pit made from the leakage from my realm!"
"Waste? Like as in-" Clark's face gritted in disgust.
"Not like human waste but still waste. Our bodies take in new ectoplasm and the old tainted stuff flows out. Like a fish breaths with it's gills. The old material tends to collect in different spots like a dump of toxic waste. And you people are bathing in the used materials." Phantom explained.
"And why is it so dangerous." Batman finally spoke up after considering the information.
Phantom sighed.
"The reason why the goop is bad is because it's tainted. As in it has remnants of the ghosts that expel it. When you dump the corpse of a freshly dead person in the goop it melds with the person giving them the ability to persist beyond death and linking them back to their soul. That sounds good, but the soul is now infected with the random assortment of attributes of the ghosts that are in the goop. It won't do much to you though. Barely affecting you in any negative way. Now if you keep putting bodies in the goop you create a big problem as the ectoplasm is invected with the freshly dead's issues. If someone evil, vengeful, or unbalanced is put in the waters parts of them will stay behind. Constantly using the ectoplasm will cause someone to go insane as it corrupts them. If someone dies painfully enough, it will also persist in the ecto and create a revenant. Like an avenging super soldier hellbent on revenge so their soul can rest. The ectoplasm will also become less potent over time, and eventually, the only thing that can come out is zombies." Phantom tried his best to spell everything out like everyone present were idiots.
"That explains many things." Batman said pinching the bridge of his nose.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN! ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU ALREADY DID THAT?!" Phantom was turning red now.
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criminalamnesia · 10 months ago
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Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!
And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.
ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.
ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE
when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.
you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.
your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.
you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.
one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.
you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.
one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.
the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.
he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.
“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.
the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.
well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.
you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.
apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.
simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.
“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.
“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.
the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.
you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.
the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?
“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”
“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”
“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.
“points to you.”
“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.
he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.
“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.
you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.
“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.
“or should we take off another?”
you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”
“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.
“ghost!”
it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.
“what, mactavish? im busy.”
“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.
the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).
“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.
“it’s fucking shepard.”
it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.
you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.
“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.
you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.
you pass out.
when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.
“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.
your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.
the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.
your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.
“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.
you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.
“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.
“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.
“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”
he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.
he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.
just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.
“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.
you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.
“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.
“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”
“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.
“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.
“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.
“and whose fault is that?”
the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.
“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.
you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.
simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.
your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.
“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.
“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.
the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.
“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.
spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.
john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.
when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.
the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.
there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.
it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.
your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.
when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.
“how’re you feeling?”
you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.
“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”
the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.
the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.
“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.
no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.
you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—
you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.
that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.
your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.
————————————————
authors note:
I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.
thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶
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porcalinecunt · 8 months ago
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(𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃)𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 ♡︎
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🎀 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ having the body of a cyborg came with it’s perks, including turning boothill into your own personal porn bot a plug away! ~ ♡︎
·˚ ◌༘͙[featuring] ! ˊ 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐗 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
cw — afab!reader. mean dom!boothill. improper use of usb ports. pornography. manhandling. overstimulation. edging. pussy drunk boothill. no pronouns for reader.
◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ author’s note! : saw someone on tt mention inappropriate use of boothill’s usb ports, and i couldn’t help myself. <33 as usual, enjoy!
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“..and i’m supposed to plug this in?”
Boothill spun the harddrive around his fingers, staring at it with both curiosity yet suspicion. it was a hot pink color with a heart sticker sloppily slapped onto the front. you handed it to him without saying a word, leaving him beyond dumbfounded.
you simply nodded, trying hard not to burst out laughing. despite the glaringly obvious USB ports that were carved into his waist, he swore to have never actually stuck anything in them. by anything, of course, were any harddrives that could’ve been packed with whatever info or footage that would’ve automatically made it’s way into his memory. he didn’t want anyone’s weird porno or stupid memes to burn into his motherboard and live with it.
yet he had a hard time saying no to you. hell, he’d never say no to you unless it’d kill you. then again, it was probably a random assortment of cat videos you came across on your feed. it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek. right?
holding up a reluctant thumbs up, you plugged the harddrive in and awaited his reaction with anticipation. boothill never looked away from your reaction, quickly noticing something was rather…off about your face. your lips curled into a seductive grin, biting down on your lower lip while hearts practically carved your pupils. your cheeks and nose were flushed a slight pink that faded to a hot red color.
yet, it was already too late for him.
his vision suddenly became a hot pink blur, the gears within his body had began to spun widely while the mini fans tried to cool down his heating body. the blood red target in his eye morphed into a pink heart while he spaced out at what was being shown in front of him.
nothing but pure pornography, some of the most explicit, flooding his memory and infecting his circuits with the love virus. boothill felt his head spin from the lewd imagery, bouncing from clip to clip of multiple sex acts all at once. from simple missionary to subs being bent in half by their ridiculously larger doms, there was even one where they were in full nelson. legs high up with thier sopping cunt in full view. it was all too much.
“so this..is what y’want me to do to ya…”
the cyborg chuckled, overwhelmed with his sudden libedo. he looks over at you with hungry eyes, flashing his shark toothed grin the moment you nodded.
“why didn’t ya say so, dollface..?”
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“a-ah! m’sorry! m’sorry boothill..! i-i was only p-playing..ngh!”
your clothes were torn clean off without a damn given, leaving you bare and vulnerable as the cyborg pumped his cock in and out of your sopping pussy. just like how you wanted it, bent in half in full nelson with your legs held high as only boothill’s arms kept you from falling. his pace was unforgiving, hungrily stuffing you full like your his last meal on death row. despite your body already stiffening from the position, boothill showed no sign of stopping. his eyes, bright pink with hearts dialating for pupils, full of burning desire and a greedy lust that clouded his judgement till his mind went blank.
it was as if the cyborg was built for fucking, his only goal being to push you beyind your human limit.
“zip it, sugar. you're gonna take m’dick even when i’m done with ya, you hear?”
boothill hissed in your ear with a mean rasp, shark-like teeth nibbling away at your earlobe. the ticklish feeling only added to the intense overstimulation that turned your brain into mush. you felt the familiar knot in your stomach close to snapping for what seems like the tenth time tonight, until a sudden emptiness snapped you back into reality. looking down, you noticed how boothill pulled himself out, leaving you hanging. a whine came out of your throat almost instinctively at the neglect.
“boothilll..! i was so clo!—“
you’re words were rudely cut off as the ranger threw you onto the bed with you laying on your back. he wasted no time crawling on top of you and pressing his heavy body against yours. trapped, you couldn’t even move an inch as you squirmed under his touch. he practically caged you.
“keep whinin’ like that and I'll leave ya empty. got that?”
as difficult as it was, you pressed your lips together and screwed your eyes shut in a desperate attempt to keep quite. your cunny spasmed around his length as he kept going with his violent pace. even with the harddrive, you could never imagine boothill going this far. you truely underestimated the strength of the virus that infected his mechanical body with such libido, yet you don’t regret it. you continued to cry out as your limbs grew numb, your senses going blank in an orgasmic euphoria. you were teetering towards the fuckin’ edge.
you sobbed out babbles of “‘m gonna cum!~” over and over again like it was automatic. finally, the knot snapped in two as stars filled your vision. if he wasn’t made of metal, you would’ve left some nasty scratch marks.
on the other hand, the ranger watched in pure awe as his pretty baby fell apart on his dick. your fucked out expression, teary eyes and pouty lips covered in spit, only fuled him for more. you couldn’t even get a breath in as you were picked up and flipped onto your stomach, ass high up in the air.
“you think ‘m done yet sugar? hehe, that’s cute.”
you could only sigh in response, unable to do anything about your own mess. lesson learned, never fuck with a machine you know so little about.
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© porcalinecunt 💌 ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.
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yuujispinkhair · 1 year ago
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Death's Bride
Death visits your village to reap the souls of the dying, and you end up making a deal with him. If he spares your sister's life, you will join him in his dark kingdom and become the woman by his side.
Halloween Masterlist 2023
Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Dark Romance, fluff, smut Word Count: 14k Warnings: 18+, smut, dark content, mentions of death, gore + blood. Reader has to take her own life so she can join Sukuna in the afterlife. Sukuna is described as a fallen angel who became the God of Death. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
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You know this is no mortal man who is walking towards you with his white cloak billowing behind him as he strides through your village, carrying himself like a king, while you lie on the threshold of your small house, breathing weakly, clutching the bag with herbs to your chest. You know this is no man. You know that this is Death coming to your village to collect what's rightfully his: The souls of the dying.
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It started two weeks ago. A strange sickness took root in your village and spread like wildfire. By now, almost everyone has been infected. For some, the sickness is easier to bear, and they are on the way to recovery by now. But others are at the end of their strength.
You are the only one out of your little family who is able to get up while your mother and younger sisters are still bedridden, trapped in fever dreams and violent shivers. You went out this morning to get more herbs, taking hours for the task because you were so shaky on your feet, weakened by almost two weeks of fever, your chest hurting from one coughing fit after the other. But you forced yourself to keep moving. You had to. Your family needed you. You had to prepare more tea to fight their fever.
You dragged yourself through the streets back to your small house, feeling dizzy and nauseous but driven by desperation. But you only came as far as the door before your legs finally gave out, and you broke down from exhaustion and ended up where you are now: Lying weakly on the threshold in the open doorway, staring in horror at the scene in front of you.
A tall, broad figure striding with large, strong steps through your village, dressed all in white with a long flowing cloak with a hood that covers the head of the man wearing it.
It sparks a memory inside you. Old tales whispered to you on long, cold winter nights when you huddled together with your little sisters to keep warm, and your grandmother, who was still alive then, told you those gruesome tales about him. The one who could walk freely between the realms of life and death. The Reaper of Souls. The Fallen. The merciless, cold-hearted God who ruled over the afterlife and held judgment over the souls of the dead.
Hysterical laughter bubbles out of your chest. You cannot look away as the huge man leans down over a crumbled body on the ground. The cobbler, who was always so nice as to accept homemade pie in exchange for a new pair of soles. He was one of the first who was infected. And now he broke down in front of his shop.
The white-cloaked figure extends a large hand and brushes over the head of the lifeless man on the ground. His touch has a frightening finality to it. As if you can see the life leaving the cobbler's body.
The figure in white straightens up again, and the wide hood of his cloak slips off and reveals reddish pink hair and a face more beautiful and otherwordly than anything you have ever seen.
You draw in a sharp breath as you stare at him. Now that you get a clear look, it is obvious that your mind wasn't playing tricks on you. This man really isn't human. You are looking at a creature beyond mortal limitations. You are looking at a God.
He turns his head at that moment, and a pair of glowing red eyes trap you in their intense gaze. Your eyes widen, and your breath comes out in short, panicky huffs. You know you wouldn't be able to move even if you tried as if his gaze alone holds enough power to shackle you to the ground.
He is here. The Fallen. The Grim Reaper. The God of Death.
And he starts walking in your direction with slow, sure steps. There is no hurry in his movements. He has all the time in the world because, after all, he is the end of all time for the ones he claims or a neverending cycle of the same suffering over and over again for the poor souls he decides to punish.
Behind him, bright red splotches appear, and you realize that those are flowers, blood-red spider lilies that grow out of the dirt, building a small path to mark where Death walked. It is a horrifyingly beautiful sight.
He carries himself like a King, walking through these dirty streets as if walking down a wide marble hallway in a castle. You suspect that even if you tried, you wouldn't be able to tear your gaze away from him.
His beautiful face is adorned with black lines. Intricate filigree patterns accentuate his angular features. The black symbols mark his otherwise flawless skin with a story of pain and sin. Your mind is suddenly flooded with the tales your grandmother told you on those winter nights long ago.
There once was a beautiful angel, the most powerful of them all. But he was too proud to abide by the rules, and so he was punished. His beautiful white wings got torn out of his flesh, and his skin was etched with the marks of the crimes he committed. He was cast out and cursed to become The Fallen. The one who claimed the throne of the afterlife, of the world beyond mortality. He took the reins, and from then on, his true name was forgotten, and everyone only called him by his new name, which was Death.
And now he is walking towards you. Strangely, you don't feel fear anymore, only fascination as you watch him approach.
He stops next to you, looking down at you with an unreadable expression. This close, you can see his face even more clearly, and your mouth opens in awe. He is devastatingly beautiful.
And so big. He is towering over you, tall and broad. From where you are lying on the floor, he looks like a mountain that is about to crush you.
"Are you here to collect souls?"
Your voice sounds weak and hoarse from coughing so much.
His glowing red eyes watch you intently for a long moment, and you think that he almost looks surprised for whatever reason. But then the moment is gone, and he nods. A slight smirk lifts one corner of his lips,
"Yes, but not yours, little one. It's not your time yet. Your body will heal again."
His voice is low and calm. He sounds soothing. Not at all how you imagined Death to sound. You were always scared of this mysterious figure you heard all those grim tales about. A terrifying, violent creature with blood-red eyes and monster-like fangs, a devil who brings pain and suffering.
But right now, you only feel calm. You feel strangely at peace with him here. His power emanates from him, so powerful that you can feel it on your skin and smell it in your nose. But it doesn't feel evil or threatening.
Instead, it feels comforting, like a warm bed with freshly washed sheets waiting for you to sink into and wrap yourself in its sweet comfort. Like the relief you feel after finally lying down after a hard day of physical labor, like the feeling of sinking into a hot bath that eases the tension in your limbs.
But that momentary feeling of peacefulness slips away again a second later when Death takes a large step past you. His feet stomp heavily on the wooden threshold next to your head, and with it, terror fills your senses.
"No!"
Your voice is a hoarse scream as you lunge forward despite your weakened state, your hand darting out to wrap around his ankle and cling desperately to it.
"Please don't go in there! Please don't!"
Your family is in there. Your younger sisters and your mother.
Your lips tremble, just like your hand, but you refuse to let go of the black leather boot that's slippery with mud. You cling to it, sobbing as you gaze up at Death through the hot tears clouding your vision.
He looks down at you, an elegant eyebrow lifted in a curious expression. He stares at your tiny hand wrapped around his ankle. You cannot tell if he is angry or amused about your pathetic attempt to stop him.
"Let go, little one. I told you, your time hasn't come yet. But I have to collect a soul from in there."
You are drowning in dread. And the words pour out of your lips, desperate and panicky,
"Please don't do it! Please take me instead! I am begging you, my Lord! Please spare them!"
Narrowed red eyes meet yours. He laughs softly and lifts his leg, effortlessly shaking your hand off. His low voice sounds amused as if you made a nice little joke.
"Look at you trying to negotiate with Death. You are a brave one. Foolish but brave."
Now you see how truly terrifying he is. Death knows no mercy. He doesn't just collect the souls of the old people who lived a long, fulfilled life. He claims anyone whose time has run out in the cruel hourglass that is life. He will go in there and take your mother or one of your sisters with him even though they still deserve so much more from life.
He looks at you with a cold, intimidating look in his red eyes. His mouth is set in a thin line, and his shoulders are pulled back, making him look even more massive. You cannot negotiate with Death. He is the God of the afterlife. There are forces at hand which every mortal is completely helpless against. Humans are all just little toy figures on the game board of the Gods. Or not even that. Just tiny, irrelevant grains of dust.
And yet, you cannot stop yourself from pleading with him.
"I don't care what you do to me! Take me with you! I am ready to die any death you see fit! Just please, please let my family live! My sisters are still so young. They deserve to see more of life! And they need my mother, she has to live too! But I am dispensable. Take me instead! Please! I will do anything you say!"
He watches you with amused eyes and a thoughtful expression.
"You're such an interesting one. You aren't dying, though. So I cannot take you to the other realm. But we could make a deal. I have to collect one soul from this house. I don't care whose it is. There is still time. I could still heal your sister. But only in exchange for another soul. You die, she lives. How does that sound to you? Are you still brave enough now?"
His red eyes watch you with an amused glint in them. Cruel excitement seems to fill him. You can't help but think that you are something like a strangely colored bug that he watches for his entertainment before he crushes it under the soles of his boots.
But you don't care. You refuse to avert your gaze, staring stubbornly into his otherwordly red eyes, your hands balled into fists as you nod.
"I agree. Please, my Lord. Please save her."
He chuckles softly, a low, amused sound, and his face lights up in a grin. He looks disgustingly delighted.
"I will, little one. But only if you seal a binding deal with me first. I spare your sister's life, and in exchange, you take your own life and let me take you with me. The moment you breathed your last breath, you belong to me, and I can decide what to do with your soul. I am in a good mood today, so I will be open about my plans for you. It would be a waste to send you back here as a curse that haunts your family. Instead, I want to keep you by my side. I could use someone who looks after my temple and warms my bed. I could use a bride. What do you say, little one?"
You can see that he is amused, that he expects you to decline after hearing his plan for you. But you don't. For a moment, you stare at him, horrified by what his words imply. But you shake yourself out of it, driven by a desperate conviction. You cannot let your little sister die today. You could never live with the guilt of knowing you had a chance to save her and let it pass. You will do what it takes. Even if it means following Death into his dark kingdom and giving your body to him. You swallow hard, lips trembling as you answer him,
"Alright. I will be your bride and look after your temple. I agree to your terms. Now, please hurry up and save her!"
More laughter falls from his lips. His red eyes glitter like two precious rubies. He sounds pleased when he says,
"You're a fearless one. I like that."
His red gaze never leaves yours as he reaches inside his cloak and pulls out a wicked-looking dagger.
"Here. Do it. End your life, and let me collect your soul. The moment your soul belongs to me, your sister will wake up from her fever dream and recover from the sickness that has befallen her."
You gulp hard, fear squeezing your heart tightly, as you stare at his large hand wrapped around the golden hilt of the dagger, his red eyes watching you challengingly, watching if you will really fulfill your part of the contract.
You are scared suddenly, your breath coming out in short huffs. You feel lightheaded, adrenaline pumping through your veins, making stars dance before your eyes.
Maybe this is how things are. No matter how prepared you are for Death, when he comes to really collect you, you feel fear after all. Fear of the finality of it all. There is no way back after you take this step.
But you don't hesitate. You press your lips together tightly and take the offered dagger out of Death's hand.
The moment you hold the heavy weapon in your grasp, Death's large hand wraps around your wrist, and he pulls you to your feet, making you stand before him.
He is so much taller than you, even now when you are standing. You have to tilt your head back to look into his eyes. He looks even more intimidating up close. Powerful, strong, unrelenting. A cunning business partner who is waiting for you to fulfill your side of the contract. A contract you pay for with your life.
You half expect him to taunt you, and it makes you clench your jaw and stare up at him defiantly. But to your surprise, there is no mockery in his low voice when he speaks up again.
"Have no fear. You won't feel any pain. I will make sure of that."
His words bring tears to your eyes, making them spill over with the hot salty liquid as your chest fills with comfort, finding solace in the fact that Death apparently knows mercy after all.
Your hand is trembling violently, but you bring the sharp blade of the dagger to your neck, gazing up at Death as you do so, looking deeply into his glowing red eyes as you slice your own throat.
The sharp metallic taste of blood fills your every sense. You taste it, you smell it, you feel it hot and wet running down your slit throat and your chest, you hear it gurgling in your mouth when you try to speak.
But Death leans down to take the bloodied dagger from your hand. His other hand cups your cheek. It's so large against your face. But his touch is gentle as if he is holding a thin, fragile porcelain cup,
"It's fine, little one. You did well. Brave until the end."
His voice is soothing. Low and calm, almost seductive. Like a lover luring you into his comforting embrace. You lean into his touch, smiling weakly when you feel his thumb caress your cheek soothingly.
Black spots dance before your eyes, and you feel so tired. You see his lips move, but you can't hear anymore. Your legs and hands feel numb. You fall forward, but strong arms catch you.
You feel yourself get swooped up into Death's strong arms and pressed safely against his broad chest. You feel him move as your head lols back weakly. The ghost of a smile tugs at your blood-stained lips. He carries you like a groom carrying his bride to the bedroom on their wedding night.
How fitting. After all, you are truly his bride now.
If you weren't so weak, you would laugh at the commentary your delirious mind provides.
By now, your vision has vanished completely. The only thing you are still aware of are his arms around you. It's peaceful and warm. As painless as he promised. You feel one last weak throb of your heart. And then it's only sweet, comforting darkness and the feeling of those strong arms carrying you safely across the border from mortal life into Death's dark kingdom.
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You wake up feeling rested and comfortable. Your eyes are still closed, and you sigh contentedly, snuggling deeper into the soft and warm sensation of a silky pillow and blanket.
In the back of your mind, some strange warning tugs, but you are too wrapped in the luxurious feeling of being well-rested after a good night's sleep to pay it much attention. You can't remember the last time you felt rested like this. It was hard since your father died. You are the oldest daughter and had to help your mother raise your younger sisters. You were the one who had to do most physical labor, working on one of the farms day in and day out. Your body constantly ached somewhere.
But not today.
You sigh happily, stretching your limbs and marveling at how soft the bedsheets and the blanket feel against your naked skin and how large the bed is.
That's when the little voice in your head becomes too loud to ignore. You blink in confusion and open your eyes.
You are in a large room with marble walls decorated opulently with red and gold murals. Red candles are flickering in large lanterns. A fire is crackling in a beautifully decorated hearth. The bed you are lying in is huge and definitely not made for only one person.
You gasp and sit up, looking around hastily.
There are two red pillows and two red blankets, and everything is made of the finest silk. As if you are in a King's bed chambers.
And, suddenly, you remember everything.
The sickness haunting your village. Your dying sister. Death walking towards you. The deal you made with him. The dagger in your hands. The blood. Strong arms carrying you. You remember him. Death himself. Your bridegroom.
Instinctively, you grab the blanket and wrap it tightly around your body, feeling exposed and vulnerable. Your heart is beating wildly, and it makes you feel nauseous. You still remember the feeling of your heartbeat becoming slower and slower before it finally faded away completely. You remember dying.
And yet you are here now, breathing, feeling the silk on your skin, feeling the thrumming of your heart. So very alive, even though you know you can't be.
And so very naked in a man's bed. Or not a man's bed. In a God's bed. In Death's bed.
At that moment, the large door opposite the bed opens, and you wince in fear. You clutch the blanket tightly against your body, staring at the door with wide eyes.
He stands in the doorway, his pink hair almost brushing against the doorframe. Tall and massive. He looks intimidating even without the white cloak he wore when reaping souls. Even the way he is dressed right now, as if he just woke up too, with only a pair of black pants on his muscular body. His feet and chest are bare.
There are more tattoos on his body, matching the ones on his face. Black lines decorate the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, as well as his strong arms.
He could almost be a human man. Almost. But those glowing red eyes tell you otherwise. Those are the eyes of a mythical creature. The eyes of a God.
And you feel like a small animal trapped in that gaze as you sit there on his large bed, naked except for the silk blanket wrapped protectively around yourself, unable to move as you watch him walk into the room.
He moves gracefully like a big cat, even though he is so tall and muscular. A slight smirk lifts his lips as he approaches the bed. His red eyes never leave your small figure huddled in his blanket.
"Ah, I see you are awake."
"What... what did you do to me?"
The words have left your mouth before you can stop yourself. Confusion and fear make you blurt out mindlessly. You are distraught by the memories of slitting your own throat, by the feeling of dying. And you are terrified by the knowledge that you are naked in Death's bed. Terrified by what he might have done to you in your sleep. On the other hand, maybe it would be better for you not to have been awake for what he did.
He falters for a moment, his beautiful face shadowed by a frown as his red gaze bores searchingly into yours.
"We made a deal. Can you not remember? Your life in exchange for your sisters? You agreed to follow me here."
You nod firmly,
"Yes, yes, of course I remember."
"When what..." he starts, but then comprehension seems to dawn on his features, and he laughs, sounding mocking, his eyes glittering amusedly when he continues,
"Don't worry. I didn't touch you while you were unconscious. Where would be the fun in that?"
Oh.
You feel some of the worst tension leave your body, a long breath you had been holding finally finding its way out of your lips.
"But why am I... naked?"
"You were dirty. Do you think I would let you sleep in my bed like that, full of dirt and blood? My servant undressed you and cleaned you and put you in my bed."
So you were right. This is his bed.
"Why am I in your bed?"
He huffs at your question as if you asked something utterly stupid.
"Because you are my bride. Of course, you sleep in my bed. We have a deal. So if I say you sleep in my bed, you will sleep here. Is that clear?"
You lick your lips nervously, feeling fear tingle under your skin at his imperious tone and the intense gaze out of those unnervingly red eyes.
You quickly avert your gaze, bowing your head obediently,
"Yes, my Lord."
"Sukuna."
You blink and lift your head again to look at him questioningly.
"What?"
"That was my name before I became Death. Sukuna. I want you to call me that from now on."
He sighs, and the stern expression on his face becomes softer when he adds,
"It would be uncalled for my bride to address me with my title. I am Sukuna for you. Your betrothed."
He says his own name with a slight tilt in his voice as if he isn't used to saying it. Maybe he isn't. It must have been a very long time since he told someone his name. Maybe eons.
You gulp hard.
How strange it is to be here with him. To talk to him as if he is a regular mortal when he is so much more than that. He has never even been human. He is a being so ancient and so powerful, so crucial to every mortal's existence, that your head spins just from trying to imagine it.
But you force yourself to be brave and look at him.
He is right. You agreed to his terms. And he did his part. He spared your sister. Now, it's your turn to fulfill the rest of your side of the contract.
You are still trembling and hugging the blanket tightly to your naked form, but you look bravely into his eyes and give him a polite nod,
"Of course, Sukuna. Thank you for saving my sister. I will be a good bride for you."
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A day ago, you were a mere mortal. One of millions who were caught in the hands of fate. Working day in and out to stay alive, always hoping, begging, praying to have more time and to see your loved ones live a long life too, while all of you were exposed to the threat of Death cutting your lifespan with his sword at any second.
Now, you are beyond that. You died, and you came back again. Brought back by Death himself, the Master over every soul who left the mortal world behind.
From this day on, you reside in the afterlife. From this day onwards, you will be Death's Bride and live your new life, or rather your afterlife, by Sukuna's side.
He tells you that you are free to move around in the temple. When you ask if you are also allowed to go outside, he lifts an elegant eyebrow and seems strangely amused, as if you asked something stupid.
"You can also go outside. But I don't think you will find anything interesting there, little one."
You don't know what he means, but accept it and take the fine clothes his loyal servant Uraume brings you. Everything is made out of the finest silk. A fabric so luxurious and soft that it feels like a caress when Uraume helps you get dressed. You gulp when the servant puts jewelry on your neck and wrists. Heavy gold and pretty jewels, red rubies that glitter in the same color as your groom's eyes.
Sukuna's temple is enormous and luxuriously furnished. Not at all like the tiny, shabby house you grew up in. But you cannot claim that this temple is better than your old home because, contrary to the vivacious atmosphere of your former home, Sukuna's house is eerily silent. A silence that feels haunting.
You don't dare walk too fast so as not to make any loud noise. You catch yourself whispering because your normal voice sounds too loud in these empty halls. It's a ghostly place. The silence feels too heavy, almost tangible. Something that can easily drive a person into madness.
You try to focus on the little noises that are there. The little signs of existence, like the sound of water flowing into the large bath. Or the sound of the doors sliding open and closed.
It takes a while to explore the whole place. To see all the large rooms with their rich tapestries and carpets. Gold and rubies shine and glitter everywhere. But a lot of the rooms look too clean, too perfect. There are no signs of someone actually living in them.
It is lonely here.
Maybe this is why Sukuna was willing to make a contract with you that would bind you to him and make you join him here. Maybe he was looking for a companion, or just a pet, to amuse him in this everlasting silence.
It is not like you are a servant here, as Sukuna made it sound at first. You assumed you would tend to him, clean his temple and clothes, wash and cook for him. But that isn't the case. His servant, Uraume, takes care of those tasks. They mostly remain invisible, like a ghost, taking care of everything for their Master, seemingly manifesting out of the shadows to bring you fresh clothes and oils and wine.
You ask them timidly what you are supposed to do, and they shake their head to inform you that you are just here for Master Sukuna's enjoyment.
A statement that makes a shudder run through you.
You have been here for three days, and so far, he hasn't laid a hand on you, maybe because he was away most of the time, apparently reaping souls on a battlefield.
But he demands your presence at dinner with him, where he sits across from you at a large table, and those gleaming red eyes never leave you. He is polite, asking questions about your day and how you like the jewelry.
And he joins you in the large bed every night, naked, with his tall and broad body full of solid muscles and black lines unashamedly on display for your terrified gaze.
You try to tell yourself it is the shock that makes you unable to look away from him when he undresses next to the bed and then slips in. But a little voice in the back of your mind whispers treacherously to you that maybe it is because Sukuna has an undeniably beautiful body.
"You're getting quite intimate with Death, my dear, aren't you?"
His amused low voice makes you hastily look away and hide your face in the silky pillow, heart racing nervously. His mocking laugh makes goosebumps creep over your skin. But he doesn't seem mad. He is just amused once again.
"Don't be shy, little one. Look all you want. You'll have all the time in the world to explore this body."
You bite your lip at his words, your body tensing up under the blanket when a large hand lands on the nape of your neck and slowly slides down your spine. Your heart is fluttering, and you don't dare breathe. But he pulls his hand away after a moment.
You slip to the edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, knees pulled up, curling into yourself, instinctively trying to protect yourself as if it would help anything against this God in your bed.
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The more time you spend in Sukuna's Kingdom, the more you realize that this is really death. It is the absence of life, the absence of sound, and plant- and animal life. You begin to understand that the once graceful angel Sukuna really got punished. This here is his suffering, his punishment. The loneliness, the absence of life that so suffocatingly surrounds him at all times.
But he was cunning enough to cheat and take his chance when you offered it so beautifully to him. Now, it is the two of you here in this dead place.
It's truly a lonely place. Maybe that's the definition of hell. To be trapped in a beautiful temple that holds all the riches the world could offer but lacks life, lacks the connection to other beings.
You try to befriend Uraume, but they seem to vanish when they aren't busy with some task. Your attempts at chatting with them get declined with a polite but stern bow and a "Please forgive me, my Lady, but I must ask you to refrain from distracting me from serving Master Sukuna."
You meet no other being aside from Uraume and Sukuna.
The worst thing is the eerie silence. It almost drives you crazy. It makes you stomp your feet loudly just so you can reassure yourself you are still able to hear. It makes you slowly push open the large gate that leads outside in a desperate attempt to find anything living.
The rich opulence inside Sukuna's home is a stark contrast to what greets you when you finally step outside the temple.
A seemingly endless wasteland stretches before your eyes. There is no sky above you. It feels like you are in an enormous cave with a ceiling so high your vision cannot reach it. Eternal darkness lives in this place. Cold with icy winds and a rotten stench of iron and decay.
It's gruesome. Hopeless.
You press a hand over your nose and mouth and stand there wide-eyed, staring at the endless darkness in the distance. But as frightening as it is, the complete darkness in the distance is a blessing compared to what you see in the strange, dim, reddish light surrounding Sukuna's temple.
A vast crimson-red sea surrounds the island upon which the temple is built. The color and the stench make you ask yourself a question to which you already know the answer. Yes, this sea must be a sea of blood.
You shudder as you take a tentative step closer to the crimson-red liquid at your feet. You gulp hard as you lift your head to look straight ahead. There is a narrow path leading through the sea of blood, a path that is made of stones and other shapes. Shapes that look too similar to bones to be a coincidence.
But at the end of that path is something even more horrible. A massive pile of bones. It is so high that it seems like a small hill. And on its top is a large throne made out of skulls.
This must be the place from the tales you heard whispered.
Death's throne.
This must be where Sukuna holds court and decides on the fate of the newly deceased. Some will move on to eternal peace. Some will suffer forever in the fires of the afterlife. Some will be forced to return to the mortal world. But not as humans but as empty shells. As curses that were laid upon them by others.
A heavy hand lands on your shoulder, and you scream.
You whirl around wide-eyed, only to stare into the smirking face of your soon-to-be husband.
Sukuna's red eyes wander slowly from your face to his throne in the midst of the sea of blood and back again to your face, looking deeply into your eyes as he says in his low, velvety voice,
"I see, you found my throne. You can sit next to me up there if you wish while I pass judgment on the newly reaped souls."
You shake your head frantically.
"No! No, there will be no need for that!"
He raises an elegant eyebrow and huffs softly.
"Such a pity."
But he leaves it at that. His white coak billows behind him majestically as he strides back into the temple, and his soft laugh carries over to your ears, amused, maybe a bit mocking.
You follow him hastily, not wanting to be out here any second longer.
You plan to never set foot outside again after that. It's easier to pretend when you are inside the temple. It's easier to pretend that you are not in the middle of literal hell.
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You aren't sure how many days or weeks have passed since you arrived in Sukuna's Kingdom. Time is nonexistent here. There are no seasons. There is no night and day. You have dinner at appointed times, and you go to bed where you still slide to the far end of the bed. But you have no idea if the days have the same hours as in the mortal world.
It might be a week, maybe since you were brought here when Uraume informs you while dressing you in the morning,
"Tonight, the wedding ceremony will be held. I will bathe you and dress you in your wedding dress later on."
And you feel like you are falling. Falling deeper and deeper into darkness so absolute it feels like velvet brushing over your skin as it swallows you wholly.
You knew this was coming. But it still shakes you to your deepest core. There is something so final about becoming Death's bride. You know you will be here forever. You will be Sukuna's forever. Bound to him by a promise, by a contract, by a union of bodies, maybe by blood too.
The wedding dress is the most beautiful dress you have ever seen. White silk, so delicate it looks like a mere spider's web. Your skin shimmers through it. The dress clings to your curves, showing your body almost as if you are naked. It looks like the dress of a Queen. Or a Goddess.
"Master Sukuna wanted the finest wedding dress ever made for his bride. You should be grateful and wear it with pride."
The disapproval in Uraume's voice is evident as they catch you crossing your arms timidly in front of your breasts, trying to hide your body.
When you walk towards your groom, you hold your head up high, clutching the wedding bouquet of spider lilies tightly in your hands, your gaze glued to Sukuna's glowing red eyes, trying your best to be brave.
You play along and do what Uraume instructed, extending a hand so Sukuna can take it and let him lead you to an altar. You are brave. You don't flinch when Sukuna takes the same dagger that you took your life with and touches it to your wrist, cutting your skin lightly.
No blood is welling up from the wound. Another mystery. What are you now? You feel a heart beating in your chest, but you don't bleed. Is anything you feel even real? Or is the beating of your heart just a phantom sensation you remember from being alive and refuse to let go of?
You feel lightheaded as you stare at the thin wound on your wrist, but only for a moment because then Uraume hands Sukuna a tray with a small pot with a black liquid in it.
You know what is to come. Your husband is marking you as his, filling your wound with the black liquid, giving you the same markings he bears.
He doesn't kiss you but stands in front of you, so close that you feel his warmth. One of his large hands cups your cheek, his thumb brushing slowly over your lower lip before it pushes into your mouth and feeds you some of the black liquid he marked you with.
"Take my sin into you and become mine for all eternity. Be my companion in this eternal darkness, like I will be yours."
There is something in his voice and about his choice of words that makes tears prick at your eyes, but you will them away and repeat his vow.
He takes you that night for the first time, consummating your marriage by pushing you onto the bed, one of his large hands pressing your face down into the silken pillow, as Sukuna settles over you.
You clutch the pillow tightly between your fingers when you feel his heavy weight pressing your body down. You tell yourself to be brave and obedient, but you cannot stop a muffled cry from falling from your lips when his huge cock splits you open and claims you for the first time.
He takes you with deep, thorough thrusts. The initial pain vanishes after the first few thrusts, and after that, your union isn't exactly painful anymore, but it feels frightening how full you feel, how stretched out. You have never lain with a man before, but even if you had, you know no mortal man would have been able to prepare you for your wedding night with a God like Sukuna.
He is so big, so strong, taking you unrelentingly while you tremble in his arms, knowing you could never run from him even if you chose to back out of your contract with him.
His large hands are placed on each side of your head, his lips trail over your neck, sharp teeth grazing over your skin, while he snaps his hips and makes you feel like you are getting crushed anytime his heavy weight presses you down onto the bed.
There is no love in this union of your bodies, but it's not like you were as naive as to ever imagine your wedding night to be filled with love or tenderness.
You always expected to marry out of convenience. A girl like you couldn't afford the luxury of love when picking a husband. You had a family to look after. Maybe it would have been one of the farmer's sons if you were lucky. You would have given birth to his children in exchange for a relatively comfortable life for yourself and your mother and sisters in one of the big farmhouses.
You never were so foolish as to believe you would have a loving marriage. So this wedding night with Sukuna isn't that much different from what you were expecting in your future anyway.
And so you grit your teeth and take his cock obediently, letting him use your body to satisfy his desire until you hear his low groans in your ear when he finds his release and fills you with his warm seed.
You are a good bride.
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You know you aren't expected to work, but you find your way into the large kitchen anyway, standing behind Uraume as they prepare a meal.
Sukuna has been gone the whole day, and there is only so much staring at the ceiling while lying in your bed that you can do before you inevitably go insane. So you went in search of the only other living being down here, hoping they wouldn't send you away.
"Do you need help with the cooking? Can I maybe chop some ingredients or something?"
Sukuna's servant sends you a cold gaze over their shoulder, looking at you as if you offended them by the suggestion alone.
"I have spent eons preparing Master Sukuna's meals, my Lady. I don't need any help. And you aren't a servant here. You should do other things."
"But... but that's not what I meant. I am sorry if I offended you. The food you cook is always perfect. I just...I am looking for something to do and for some company maybe. Can I please assist you? There is nothing else to do here."
Uraume sighs, but they nod slightly, and you feel relief wash over you. They wave you over, hand you a knife, and point to a cutting board where a small pile of vegetables is waiting to get sliced into little pieces. You smile at Uraume and murmur a soft thanks, going to work immediately.
"Uraume? Can I ask you something? Does Sukuna even need to eat?"
It's something you have been curious about since the first time you sat across from him at the large dining table. You don't feel any hunger since you woke up here in the afterlife. Why would someone who is already dead need food? But you eat because you feel like it is required of you in your role as Sukuna's bride. It made you wonder, though. Why would a powerful being like Sukuna need to eat? Or does he just do it because he likes the sensation of eating?
Uraume watches you warily for a long moment, probably contemplating whether they should chat with you about Sukuna. In the end, they sigh softly and answer you,
"Master Sukuna doesn't need any food. But he wants to eat."
Uraume hesitates for a moment, their hand with the knife hovering over the meat they are currently chopping, but then they add softly,
"In the heavenly realms, they have big feasts all the time with as much food and wine as one can imagine. Even after The Fall, Master Sukuna didn't want to give up on that. He was supposed to have a life void of all those joys, but he evades that form of punishment by consuming the food I prepare for him with ingredients I collect from the mortal world. Of course, it's not quite the same taste as the foods prepared in the celestial realm, but for the ingredients I can obtain, it is the best food he can get."
It makes sense.
You can't help but chuckle softly as you realize that eating a four-course meal every night is Sukuna's little ongoing rebellion against the ones who turned him into The Fallen.
It somehow makes you see your husband in a different light. It makes him seem a little more human. A little more relatable. You have been there, too, several times, feeling the desire to do something out of spite when someone tries to forbid you something.
That evening, you watch him closely while he eats the meal Uraume and you prepared for him. For the first time, you take in how much he seems to treasure the food served to him. He takes his time eating it, letting it melt slowly on his tongue, taking in all the different flavors, and his eyes close in pleasure when he savors the taste.
It almost makes you feel sorry for him and for what he lost when he got cast out of heaven.
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You never wanted to set foot outside the temple again after seeing the endless wasteland and the sea of blood. But your curiosity gets the better of you when Sukuna informs you he will be holding court today, and you watch him slip into his white cloak and walk through the huge doors of the temple towards the path that leads to his throne.
You follow him after a few minutes, unable to resist the lure his words have on you.
A horrifying sight greets you. The sea of blood is filled with a large crowd of shadowy figures. The bloody waters are shallow, only reaching up to the knees of those standing in it. But none of them look down. They all have their heads tilted back to look up at the imposing figure who thrones over them. Atop the gruesome pile of bones, sitting on his throne of skulls, is Death.
He looks bored. His long legs are crossed casually one over the other. His chin is resting on the back of one hand while his eyes trail slowly over the souls standing before him, awaiting his judgment.
Eyes that glow blood-red, vibrant like two lights in the dark, standing out frighteningly in the dim light of the afterlife.
He is beautiful and terrifying.
You can see the immeasurable extent of his power and can even feel it as if it is a physical thing that surrounds you, making the air thick and filling your senses with dread. A dread that comes with the absence of all hope.
Sukuna is the King of the Afterlife. The God of Death. There is no escape from him. Every living soul will one day end up here and stand before your husband.
A shiver runs down your spine at the thought. You instinctively hug yourself even as your gaze stays glued to the scene playing out in front of you.
As expected, Sukuna is unrelenting in his judgment. There is no mercy to be expected when he makes his decisions. He isn't swayed by the cruelty of the fates of the ones standing before him, no matter how tragic they are. His decisions are rational and brutal at times. And yet, after you stood there for several hours and watched him, you have to admit that his judgment is fair. Of course, he won't revive anyone. But he assigns an appropriate ending to their lives. He punishes the ones who did evil. He transforms the ones who got cursed. He leads the ones who are innocent to their eternal sleep.
When the last soul has vanished in a cloud of red smoke, Sukuna gets up from his throne and slowly walks back toward the temple. His movements are graceful, making you watch him with a feeling akin to admiration.
His red eyes land on you, and for a split second, a surprised expression crosses his beautiful features.
When he reaches you, he stops next to you with a content expression on his face and a small smirk lifting the corners of his lips,
"So my bride watched after all, hm? I am pleased."
You nod at him, and to your surprise, you see his smirk turn into a smile.
One of his large hands reaches out and lands on your head. Long fingers brush over your hair, petting you for a brief moment before he pulls away again and continues walking toward the temple.
You feel strangely light-hearted when you fall into step behind your husband.
When he takes you that night, he is gentler in the way he handles you. He doesn't press you face down into the pillow like he usually does, but instead rolls the two of you to the side, entering you from behind while you lay in his strong arms and his large hands trail down your body, cupping your breasts and rubbing circles over your belly.
His lips graze your earlobes while his low groans and murmurs fill the room,
"You're a good little bride."
You don't know whether it's his words or the way he snaps his hips that makes you clench around his thick cock and exhale a surprised moan, as for the first time, you feel thick syrupy pleasure explode inside you and spread through your whole body in warm crashing waves.
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Your husband is often away. In the mortal world, reaping souls. You know that anywhere he goes, he brings devastation and fear. But when he comes home to you, he brings a certain comfort with him, as strange as it sounds.
You are almost glad when Sukuna's tall, broad figure walks into the wide double doors. It is very lonely here and scary at times when you become too aware of where you are, and the silence becomes too suffocating. Sukuna's presence brings comfort. His low, calm voice helps you drift away from that brink of madness you sometimes feel yourself drifting towards when you are alone with your thoughts for too long.
Your husband is Death, but to you, he is the only sign of life you meet down here, and that is enough to make you drift towards him when he is at home.
He is terrifying because of his role in this cycle of life and death. He is terrifying because he symbolizes the end. His position is terrifying. But the man Sukuna doesn't seem so bad.
He treats you well. He is polite. And as long as he looks at you and talks to you, you feel real. You still exist. You aren't gone. You aren't a ghost or a curse. You are very real and corporal.
You catch yourself following Sukuna around, watching him while he polishes his sword and the various daggers he carries. Watching him when he sits comfortably on the bed with books spread around him, reading and making notes.
His red eyes find yours and narrow in a frown.
"You've been staring at me for half an hour. Do you have nothing to entertain yourself with? What are you usually doing while I am away?"
The question catches you off guard. Is he mad at you? Is he accusing you of being lazy?
You look nervously at him,
"There isn't a lot to do here... I mostly just... wait? I sleep a lot, I take baths, and I help Uraume in the kitchen. Is there anything you want me to do?"
He blinks at you and shrugs.
"Why don't you find a past time? I showed you my library. Why don't you spend your days there and read?"
You feel shame wash over you. You get treated like a noble woman here by the King's side. But you have always been just a poor peasant from a dirty little village where the only thing that mattered was physical labor.
"I never learned how to read."
Sukuna's red eyes widen, and he stares at you for a long moment before he finally says firmly,
"Follow me."
He gets up and walks toward the door without bothering to check if you follow him. A man who is used to everyone obeying his commands.
You quickly scramble to your feet, bunch up your dress, and do as he says. You have to walk fast to keep up with Sukuna's large steps, probably looking pathetic as you hurry after him. But he doesn't comment on it. There is an amused smirk on his beautiful face, though, when he waits for you at the door that leads to his personal library.
It's a vast room with large shelves filled with so many books that you suspect he must own every book that has ever been written.
"Sit."
Sukuna's low voice is demanding, but you can hear the tint of amusement in it as he points one long finger to one of the large armchairs.
You nod and sit down, watching Death stride through his collection of books and pull several books from the various shelves, which he then places on the small table next to your armchair.
"I will teach you how to read. These are all books that contain very little text. We will start with those."
Your head snaps up, and you stare at him, caught off guard and astonished by his offer. Why does he care whether you have something to do in your time here or not? Why does he take some of his precious time to teach his bride, who he claimed is only here to warm his bed, how to read?
At the same time, you feel a shudder run through your body, feeling flustered suddenly as you realize that this means you will spend a lot of time with him.
Holed up in Death's personal library, where he sits so close to you that his large hand brushes against yours anytime he turns a page. So close that his breath caresses the skin of your neck anytime he tells you something in his low, velvety voice. You find it hard to focus on his words, too distracted by the warmth emanating from his tall, muscular body.
He takes you almost every night, but somehow, those hours spent with him in the library where he teaches you how to read feel much more intimate than the nights spent under his heavy body.
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Sometimes, Sukuna returns home as immaculately looking as he left. His white cloak clean, his beautiful face flawless. But at other times, he comes home covered in dirt and blood from walking over a battlefield or through a slaughtered city.
On those days, you help him shrug out of his stained clothes and then lead him to the large bath, where you join him in the hot water to wash the blood and dirt off his muscles.
It is something he demanded from you.
"Why should I wash myself when I have a perfect little bride to do that. Isn't it your duty to serve me? Now take off your clothes and join me in the bath."
At first, it took all your bravery to slip out of your clothes in front of his wolfish gaze and smug grin. But now, it is no cause for shame or discomfort anymore. You are used to being naked in front of Sukuna. Used to getting claimed fully by him.
But it's not just that, you realize as you slip into the hot water and walk towards your husband.
By now, you feel a certain pride in this. Sukuna is Death. He is a God. A being that seems untouchable with all the power he holds. But you are allowed to touch him. You are allowed to invade his personal space.
There is something so intimate about straddling his lap here in the hot water, naked skin on skin, as you cup his beautiful face with one hand and use a washcloth to wipe the blood off his skin and wash his hair. A certain bond blossoms between the two of you when his muscular arms encircle you, and his red eyes watch you intently, glittering like two rubies in the flickering candlelight while he lets you take care of him. There is a certain softness in the way he thanks you for cleaning him despite his former claims that this was your duty to him.
It's during one of those shared baths when Sukuna kisses you for the first time.
He has claimed you almost every night, had you under him or in front of him, or made you be on top and sit on his large, heavy cock while he lifted you up and down and rolled his hips to thrust deeply into you. He made you bury your nose in his pink pubic hair while he used your mouth for his pleasure, made you choke on his copious amounts of seed, or sneered when he pulled out in time to shoot it all over your face and naked breasts.
He claimed you in every way a man can claim a woman. But he never kissed you.
In all the months you have been here by his side, Sukuna never kissed you until this afternoon here in the large bath where you sit on his lap and wash the blood off his face.
Your face is barely inches from his as you scrub at the dried blood on his right cheek when you feel one of his large hands trail up your back slowly. A caress that feels too gentle for a being like him. Your eyes flicker to his, and you see him watching you intently with an unreadable expression in those glowing red eyes.
Before you can go back to scrubbing at the blood on his cheeks, you feel his large hand cup the back of your head and pull you closer.
Your eyes widen when Sukuna's lips touch yours. They are surprisingly soft. His kiss is slow at first, lips barely moving against yours. But it grows more passionate quickly. His large hand tightens its hold on your hair, his mouth opens against yours, and his velvety tongue licks over your lips before pushing between them.
You shudder, not able to tell if it is from fear or pleasure. But your eyes fall shut, and your hand drops the washcloth. Your arms link behind Sukuna's broad neck. You open your mouth willingly for him, letting him in further, licking against his tongue experimentally, surprised at the heat that it makes throb in your core.
A soft growl is heard, and you can't tell if it's coming from you or Sukuna. But you know that his arms tighten around you and that you press your naked breasts against his muscular chest as you push your tongue eagerly against his, caressing it with a hunger that you didn't know you possessed.
You feel an all too familiar hardness growing beneath you, but instead of dreading it, you press against it eagerly, allowing yourself to fall into those hot, red feelings of desire and need. Allowing yourself to dive into those stormy waves of carnal pleasure, embracing the comfort and freedom it offers you.
This time you shudder in pleasure when Sukuna's thick cock pushes into you. This time, you gasp needily when his large hands knead your flesh, and his nails dig into your skin as he lifts you up and down on his throbbing hardness. This time, you meet the snaps of his hips eagerly, taking him deeper, making the act faster and more passionate as you ride him shamelessly until you are both grunting and gasping loudly, and the warm water splashes out of the large tub anytime your bodies connect in those passionate and frenzied moves. Both of you cry out loudly when your pleasure reaches its peak at the same time.
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When Sukuna is at home, you can almost believe you are living a normal life in the mortal world. Of course, a life very different from your former one. A life as a princess, maybe, or a queen, who is living in a castle, wrapped in luxuries, with nothing to do except improve your newly acquired reading skills and help your loyal servant prepare decadent meals that you eat with your husband before he leads you to your opulent bed chamber where you both read and share the occasional laugh about an amusing passage in a book until your low moans fill the room while your lips and bodies meet in a passionate union.
You almost succeed in pretending that you are still alive.
Almost.
But then Sukuna leaves the temple to fulfill his duty as Death, and you become too aware again that the windows are only enchanted to show day and night and a blurry landscape instead of the eternal night and the nothingness surrounding Sukuna's temple.
And that's when you feel the unsettling presence of the complete silence choking you again. That's when you feel the absolute absence of life closing in on you again as if the temple walls are moving closer and closer to you.
You can only escape for so long into the fantasy world of the books you are able to read now. And Uraume isn't very helpful with how they seem to avoid you except when dressing you or cooking with you.
You catch yourself humming under your breath to comfort yourself. The humming turns into soft singing. At first, you feel a bit weird about how loud your voice sounds, but soon, you become braver and sing at an average volume, unafraid of how your voice fills the marble rooms of the temple with its clear sound. You are surprised by how many songs you remember. Songs from your childhood, folk songs from your village, popular songs from the big cities you heard performed at the harvest festival every ear.
You get so comfortable with it that you don't think twice about singing, even when Sukuna is at home. You only realize what you are doing when you hear him chuckle softly behind you, and you gasp and stop singing and turn around to see him standing in the open doorway, leaning against the door frame with his muscular arms crossed in front of his broad chest, his white cloak painted with the scarlet pattern of a soul claimed.
He smirks at you,
"Don't let me interrupt you. I am just unfamiliar with such sounds here in my domain. But it sounds lovely. Keep singing for me, my little bird."
You feel intimidated all of a sudden now that his red eyes are watching you, but you swallow down the nervousness and continue singing the song you were in the middle of before Sukuna entered the room. A song as old as your village, kept alive from generation to generation, speaking of the human longing for company, a home, a fire to keep you warm, and a love to comfort you.
Sukuna's gaze is glued to you, a strange emotion flickering over his god-like features. Something akin to longing, you think. Something akin to sadness even. But before you can wonder too much about it, he turns away from you and leaves the room without any further word.
When you wake up the next morning, you can't move. Your eyes fly open in panic, only to realize you are lying draped over your husband's broad, muscular body, your naked skin pressing against his, one thigh thrown over his hip, your head resting on his buff chest. And what made you unable to move are his strong arms that are wrapped tightly around you, holding you in their firm embrace while he is still fast asleep.
Your breathing calms again, and a small smile lifts your lips as you relax against Sukuna's warm body, letting his strong embrace pull you back to sleep.
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"Sukuna, look!"
You are walking next to him on the path leading from his throne back to his temple when you spot it. A bright green patch of color in the otherwise dim and monotone landscape of greys and browns.
You hurriedly walk over to it, only to realize that, to your utter astonishment, it seems to be a cherry tree sprout growing bravely out of the seemingly dead ground of this Kingdom of Death.
You lift your head to look at Sukuna, only to find him staring at the tiny sprout bewilderedly.
Before you can ask him what's wrong, he stomps towards the small flower, yanks it out of the earth, and burns it with a swish of his hand, making you take a hurried step back and gasp,
"Why... why did you do this?"
His eyes glow viciously in the dim light when he turns to look at you.
"A flower like that doesn't belong here! This is the land of the dead!"
He stomps away, his white cloak billowing behind him as you can only stare after him with a confused frown.
Why does a little delicate flower bother him so much?
It is later during dinner when you dare ask him again. Sukuna's gaze is stern, his expression filled with a cold rage that makes you gulp fearfully.
"You don't know why I am upset? Then let me tell you, my little bride. Nothing grows here! No life exists here! That is how it always was! But now you are here with your singing and your liveliness, and suddenly, a symbol of renewal and hope grows in the middle of my kingdom! I disturbed the balance! By bringing you here, I disturbed it! You brought life into the realm of Death!"
"B... but that doesn't make sense. I died. I took my own life to follow you here!"
"And yet, you are still so ... so full of life. It's not right!"
You gulp hard, instinctively trying to hide the hurt you feel at his words. You bow to him, muttering,
"Forgive me, my Lord."
"I told you not to call me that."
You don't answer him but just get up from the table and hastily walk deeper inside the temple, fleeing from his words that cut deeper than the dagger that you used to slit your own throat with.
Tears are gathering in your eyes. You cannot bring yourself to care about whether you are allowed to leave the table before Sukuna or not. If he wants, he can punish you later, and you will endure whatever punishment he sees fit.
You wipe angrily at the tears that spill over as you stumble into the library and close the heavy door behind you. Why does it hurt so much? You came here because you agreed to his cruel conditions. You sacrificed yourself to save your sister. It was supposed to be a marriage of convenience. Come here, get wed to Death, and warm his bed. It was something you were supposed to hate. So why does it feel like you are being ripped apart upon feeling like your husband rejects your presence?
You huddle into one of the oversized armchairs, hiding your face behind a random book you grab from the table in a fruitless attempt to distract yourself.
That is where Sukuna finds you later that night.
You lift your head from the open book in your lap when you hear the door opening and see Sukuna's tall, broad figure looming in the open doorway. His red eyes glow devilishly in the dim light of the room.
"Don't run from me, brat."
A sad laugh escapes your lips, and you close the book you couldn't focus on anyway, lifting your head to glare at him.
"I thought you didn't want to have me around. So shouldn't you be glad if I run?"
"I never said that."
"But you think something is wrong with me and that it was a mistake to bring me here."
You hate the way your voice breaks at the end, turning into a teary sob as fresh tears spill over and slowly run down your cheeks. You don't understand yourself anymore. You don't understand why this bothers you so much, why you are so hurt by his words.
You should be glad if he doesn't want to spend time in your presence! You should be glad if he decides to let you go and fall into the nothingness of eternal sleep! You should even be glad if he decides to send you back to the mortal world as a curse that lives in your family's house!
Anything should be better than being forced to live here in his temple and be bound to him! But here you are with an aching heart and tears running down your cheeks because apparently, somehow, during the last months, you grew attached to Sukuna, and somehow, knowing he thinks you don't belong with him makes your heart break in ways you didn't know before.
Sukuna stares at you, a baffled expression on his beautiful face. The silence stretches on, deafening, suffocating, making you ball your hands helplessly into fists.
But then your husband moves. Sukuna marches towards you with large, sure steps, and before you know what is happening, he grabs you and pulls you up from your armchair and against his tall, broad body.
"That's not what I meant. I apologize for my careless words. There is nothing wrong with you. I am just... surprised by what you do to me."
His words make you lift your head to look up at him, blinking against the tears as his large hand cups your cheek.
"I don't understand, Sukuna. What do I do to you?"
His red eyes flicker with an array of emotions. Regret, pain, longing. He looks so strangely human right now. As if he isn't an almighty God who reigns over this Kingdom of Death and has the final say in the fate of every soul who comes here.
His voice is soft like a caress, low and velvety, but filled with a sadness that surprises you.
"Don't you see? You made a flower of life grow in the depths of the afterlife. When you sing and laugh and hug me with that warm, soft body, there is so much life everywhere around me. I am Death. I am used to being alone. I am used to numbness, to silence, to nothingness. It is part of my punishment. But now you are here, and you fill everything with colors and sounds and warmth. You are a source of light in this eternal darkness. And it... it unsettled me when I saw the extent of your power."
You blink at him in utter astonishment.
"But Sukuna... you are Death. How could you be unsettled by anything? What effect can someone like me even have on you? What power could I ever hold?"
He huffs softly, a sound that reverberates in his broad chest.
"I have existed as Death for eons. And it was always an existence in solitude. It's the irony of being me. Death belongs to life. It is inevitable. And yet, everyone who lives chooses to ignore it. They push it away, they demonize it, they make a taboo of it. I was always just a fearful whisper. I am something the mortals try to pretend doesn't exist until their last moments, when all hope is lost. Their delusion is so strong that I can walk through the middle of a crowded city filled with mortals, and no one will notice me. That's how much they banished me from their existence. I am invisible to them. They can see me only in the moments right before they die."
He stops momentarily as if to let his words sink in while his gleaming red eyes gaze deeply into yours. Something about what he said makes no sense. You frown.
"But... But I.."
"But you saw me. Yes, I know. You weren't supposed to be able to see me. But you did. Do you begin to see what I mean? You talked to me, and I was greatly amused by it but, at the same time, utterly fascinated. Do you think I go around randomly making deals with people? So many beg me in their last moments, but I always ignore their pleas. But you were different. You weren't standing on the threshold between life and death, but you still saw me. That's why I offered a deal to you. I was curious. But I wasn't prepared for what you would do to me. I wasn't prepared for what it would do with me when you talk to me and eat with me and bathe with me or when you kiss me and lay with me and find pleasure in it. I wasn't prepared for what it means to be seen by someone."
Sukuna's thumb brushes gently over your cheek, wiping your tears away while his red eyes gaze deeply into yours. He is a God, yet he is so human now. His words make your chest feel tight, and more tears well up in your eyes. But this time they aren't for you. Those tears are for him. 
You realize that you are pressing your body tightly against him, wrapping your arms around him, and holding him. Hugging Death and looking at him with a gaze full of compassion.
"And I will keep seeing you, Sukuna. You aren't just a shadow. You are very real, and you aren't unspeakable or evil."
This makes him raise an eyebrow, his red gaze burning into yours.
"You don't think Death is evil? If you could, wouldn't you bring an end to it? Isn't that the ultimate goal mortals want to achieve? To defeat Death?"
You gulp hard but shake your head, refusing to avert your gaze but instead looking deeply into Sukuna's gleaming red eyes.
"No. You have a right to exist. Death belongs to this world just like life does. Why would anyone value their life if they knew it was everlasting? Many things are so much more special because of their fleeting nature. Your position brings a certain beauty to the world, a certain urgency, that wouldn't be there otherwise. Death can be cruel and unfair. But it belongs to this world. There could be no real value of life without you."
Surprise flickers over his face before it gives way to a pleased expression.
"I knew from the start that you are brave. And maybe fate sent you here to conquer Death after all. You definitely have conquered me."
A smile lifts his lips, so beautiful and flawless that it's not hard to believe that he once was an angel. Red eyes as beautiful as jewels glitter in the soft glow of the candlelight, making your heart flutter.
You look up at Sukuna, reaching out to touch his cheek too. He is so much bigger than you. Tall and broad. Death is standing in front of you, powerful and merciless, and yet you feel no fear anymore. His red eyes are soft when they look at you. His large hand is gentle when it cups your cheek. His voice is full of tenderness when he asks,
"Will you sing for me again?"
You smile at him and nod gently.
He picks you up and carries you to the bedroom, his lips finding yours several times on the way while your small hands cup his beautiful face, and you kiss him back eagerly.
You sing for him again when you are in bed, and he lies beside you, his hand playing with your hair. You sing even while he undresses you, parting your robe and exposing your naked breasts to him. Your chest heaves, and your voice flutters, but you keep singing even while Sukuna cups one of your breasts with his large hand and squeezes it gently, his thumb brushing over your sensitive nipple.
You keep singing, only interrupted by short, breathy gasps when his hand travels down further and slips between your naked legs. He is so loving tonight. His touch is tender, his large hands surprisingly gentle. Long, strong fingers caress you in a way that makes your whole body fill with heat. He isn't taking from you tonight. He is giving to you.
And you fall apart under his tender touch, spreading your legs for him shamelessly, lifting your hips to press your naked cunt against his hand, letting him feel how wet you are for him and how much you long for his touch.
You only stop singing when you can't form coherent words anymore, and your song turns into needy sobs and loud moans. Your hips buck, and you whine when Sukuna's fingers spread your creamy wetness over your folds and over your pulsing nub that he caresses slowly.
He keeps touching you, keeps caressing that little bundle of nerves that sends shocks of desire through your body, almost overwhelming in its intensity. 
Loud gasps of Sukuna's name fall from your lips. The heat and pressure become so intense that you think you can't take it anymore. Your tiny hand's claw at his large one between your legs.
But Sukuna is unrelenting,
"No, let me. Let your husband take care of his beautiful bride."
A loud, raw scream falls from your lips as the pleasure crashes over you in hot, unrelenting waves, and your body arches up, thighs twitching as your swollen nub pulses hotly against Sukuna's large, firm fingers. He keeps rubbing it, slow but firm, and you feel hot wetness gush out of you and over his hand while you scream his name and twitch helplessly in his arms.
He is breathing heavily, his red eyes gleaming as he watches you intently. 
"So beautiful for me, my sweet bride."
He pulls his hand away, but only to push your thighs wide apart, exposing your naked, wet heat to his hungry gaze. And his face gets pressed against your soppy cunt, mouth licking up your wet mess. Your hands tangle in his pink hair, tugging on it, crying out as your head falls back on the pillow when your husband pushes his tongue into you and licks and kisses you.
You fall apart for Sukuna that night on his fingers and on his tongue. And when he finally takes you with his cock, it is slow and intense. He faces you this time, kneeling between your spread legs and capturing your lips in a kiss when he sinks down on you and claims you with his thick cock.
He is everything you see and feel, tall and big, a mountain of muscles, and a cock that fills you so completely. He takes you with slow, strong thrusts that make you clutch his muscular back and moan his name while you chase peak after peak of blinding pleasure until you are so exhausted that you fall asleep right there in Sukuna's strong arms while his low voice whispers to you,
"You sing the most beautiful songs for me, my little bird."
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"Mortals always say they will love each other until death do them part. What do you think that means for us?"
Sukuna's lips are lifted in an amused grin as he asks you the question.
He is lying next to you, his beautiful naked body laid out for your admiring gaze on top of the dark red silk sheets. His chin is probed up lazily on one large hand as he watches you, letting his gleaming red gaze trail slowly over your equally naked body.
You smile at him, reaching out to run a hand down his muscular arm, tracing his biceps and the black bands around them with your fingertips before they wander to his broad chest. You let your small hand rest there, fingers sprawling over his firm muscles, right where his heart would beat if he were a living being.
"I would say this means nothing and no one can do us part. It means our love will last until the end of time, just like Death will."
Sukuna's large hand lands on top of yours, covering your hand completely under his. He sounds pleased when he murmurs in his low voice,
"My bride is not only brave but also smart."
You laugh softly at his words before you lift your head to look deeply into his eyes.
"Sukuna?"
"Yes, my love?"
"You told me I could sit on a throne next to yours if I like."
His red eyes glitter in the firelight as he cocks his head curiously, a small smug grin lifting the corners of his mouth.
"Yes, I did."
"Is that what you want?"
"It is your choice, but yes, I would like it if you sat next to me."
"Then I will do so."
There is respect in Sukuna's gaze when he gives you a nod to signal that he will set things in motion.
You know this is where you belong. By Sukuna's side.
One day, you will see your mother and your sisters standing in front of your husband's throne of skulls, but you don't fear for their souls. You will sit next to Sukuna when it happens and guide them to eternal peace, where they can finally rest free of all pain and worries.
You are Death's Bride.
You kiss him gently farewell before he leaves for the mortal world to reap the souls of the dying. You greet him with a smile when he returns, hugging him tightly and helping him out of his coat. You wash the blood off him, you kiss him, you talk to him. You fill his dark kingdom with light, just like he said.
And he lets you.
He even laughs softly when another little green sprout fights its way through the rotten soil next to the sea of blood.
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THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!!! I didn't think this story would get so long, but once I started working on it, I got dragged into Sukuna's world and didn't want to leave again. The power he has over me!!
I hope you enjoyed this story!! Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet!!
This is the last story for my Halloween Event 2023! I am so happy that I could write all the stories I wanted! Thank you so much to everyone who read a story (or maybe several) of this event!!
7K notes · View notes
yeonzzzn · 8 months ago
Text
stuck with me: park jongseong
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pairing: jay x afab!reader word count: 26.2k
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synopsis: in the middle of the apocalypse, you and jay find each other in a situation of life and death, using the protection of each other to get to the next safe zone. unfortunately for the both of you, things take a turn once secrets get revealed and the fight for survival becomes greater.
genre: enemies to lovers, zombie apocalypse!au, blonde jay, smuggler hyung line + smuggler txt, riize members + jungkook and namjoon make appearances, smut.
warnings: swearing, blood, weapons(guns and knives), drug mentions, make-out session, multiple unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f. rec), gun goes pew pew, mentions of d**th, MINORS DNI, lemme know if I missed anything ♡
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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Jay said, the barrel of his shotgun pointing straight ahead, his heart rate racing faster than just a second ago, index finger twitching as his whole hand shook. 
You stood across from him, pointing your pistol right back at him, aiming directly for the middle of his forehead. 
Unfortunately for you, you had three other shotguns pointing directly at you. 
Your glare didn’t relent as you eyed each of them. 
“You’d be wise to drop your weapon,” you darted to the one who spoke, his dark red dyed hair hung slightly over his eyes, a sure sign that he didn’t trust you. Which was fair. You didn’t trust them either. 
“Four against one,” one smirked, his natural fangs showing, “Be smart, girl.” 
“I was here first,” you snapped, eyes darting between the four of them, “Find another place to ransack.” 
Jay glanced to his left as Jake took a step ahead of him, “As if! Drop your fucking weapon!” he yelled at you. 
You scoffed, raising both hands up, slowly backing away. Vampire fangs was right, it was four against one. There was no scenario where you would win this fight. Not when four shotguns were being pointed at you with the low amount of ammo you had left. It was a loser situation. They slowly lowered their guns slightly, obviously still on edge. 
Jay watched you carefully as you backed away. Watching as your long-sleeved shirt forsaken you, revealing the white bandage wrapped around your forearm with blood soaking through. His heart raced faster, eyes widened. 
“She’s been fucking bit!!” the redhead snapped, all four of the boys' weapons locking back into place pointing at you. 
“Shit,” Jay hissed. 
You lowered your pistol back at the blonde, gritting your teeth. 
**5 HOURS BEFORE**
You stuffed your mouth with the extra shirt from your backpack, biting down as hard as your jaw let you, and rolled up your sleeve to your elbow, the bite mark on your forearm still looking as gross as ever. 
The bottle of medical alcohol you found at the hospital sat to your left on the counter as you dangled your bitten right arm over the hospital's sink. 
You grabbed the bottle and took a few massive deep breaths in before pouring the alcohol down onto the bite. 
Your grip on the shirt tightened as you hissed in pain, doing everything you could possible to keep your groans to a reasonably quiet level to not alert any living or undead beings that could be stalking the hospital to your current location. 
Once the last of the alcohol dripped from the bottle and onto your arm, you grabbed the paper towels and gently dabbed your skin then tossed the towels behind you. You then picked up the tube of ointment, spreading enough on your fingers to rub gently on the bite. Adding the finishing touch of wrapping the white bandages around the bite and securing it tight. 
You got lucky to have found all these supplies when you did or else you’d be dead soon due to infection and loss of blood. 
You quickly pulled your long-sleeve back down then tossed your extra shirt, along with your newfound medical supplies, into your backpack and threw it over your shoulders. 
In all honesty, besides just being lucky enough to have found these supplies, you were lucky to still even be breathing. 
It’s been three years since this hell started. Since the so-called “cure” for some wack-ass disease was created for treatment that ultimately backfired and turned anyone who took it into a man-eating monster. And as the world failed to contain the outbreak, if anyone who was affected by the treatment bit or even scratched someone else, it too turned them into man-eating monsters. Or zombies if you will. Maybe even runners, clickers, or bloaters if you played the famous “The Last of Us” video game before the world went to shit. The walking dead, walkers, lurkers, the infected. Basically, any term you can think of for zombies is literally what was happening. 
Before the world knew it, everyone was thrown into this universe of kill or be killed to survive. The strong-willed were the only ones who survived. Or unless you were lucky and packed up with others. Or even extremely lucky and live inside one of the safe zones and not have to worry about leaving it. 
Unfortunately for you, you were all the above, minus not getting to leave the comfort of the safe zone. 
The safe zone you lived in was small and quiet. Not a lot of people, maybe a little over three hundred. So when supplies ran low, teams were sent out to gather more. Your safe zone wasn’t lucky enough to have military aid, and even when the military did come by to give supplies, it never was enough. Guess they saw your safe zone as a waste of time. 
You’ve ventured out of the safe zone multiple times for supply runs, so when you were picked to be a part of the team to head out, you thought nothing of it. Thought of it as just another scouting and supply run…but it wasn’t. Clearly. 
Your luck had to run out at some point, and that day just so happened to be where the luck ended. 
Your team was stuck between a rock and a hard place, quite literally, actually. The rock technically being a wall and the hard place being the undead had your team surrounded with no chances of escaping. Two of your team members were already killed, one got bit and killed themselves to spare the pain of changing, leaving just you and four others. One got scratched on the leg and had no other chance of escaping. Bless that man because he used his last bit of flares and bullets to part the sea in a chance to let you and the others make a run for it. 
You held onto the hand of your best friend as you both booked it on the small clear path. And once the sea started to close, you knew it was over. Your friend was ripped from your hand, her screams filling your ears along with the others who were being torn apart. You wanted to give up. You should have given up. You were surrounded, and the smell of death from the unliving as they were only nearly inches away from you. But some spark of hope kept you moving forward. Some unrelenting force pushing you towards the window. Your best friend yelled at you to keep going. If you were honest, her voice wasn’t the only thing that gave that hope. Something else was drawing you to stay alive, and what could that have been? You didn’t know. But you wanted to find out. 
You guarded your neck and face with your arms as you jumped through the window, the sound of breaking glass being loud enough and the smell of your blood that now ran down your arms surely alerted any other zombies in the area. But you kept moving once your feet touched the ground and started sprinting. You kept moving even as the tears streamed down your face as you left your teammates behind. 
You were the lone survivor. 
It didn’t take you long to notice the bite on your forearm just above your wrist once you got to a water stream and soaked your cut and bruised arms from breaking the window. You thought you were done for. That everyone else’s sacrifices were all for nothing. You wouldn’t be accepted back at the safe zone if you even made it back to the safe zone. Once you’ve been bit or scratched it takes roughly twenty-four hours before you start turning. The safe zone was two days away. You wouldn’t make it. 
Except you did. 
It’s now been a month since you’ve been bitten and nothing about you has changed besides the fact you have a random ass zombie bite mark on your arm that is slowly, but surely, healing. It will be one hell of a scar. 
You knew returning back to the zone wouldn’t work. They’d kill you on the spot. Or if they let you back in and notice you’ve survived a bite mark…you’d just become an experiment. Just like in every zombie video game and movie. 
So you took to the life of being a lone wolf. Doing everything—and meaning everything—you needed to survive. 
You continued your search of the hospital, gathering more medical supplies and any food left behind. Along with more ammunition(even if it was just a few bullets) for your pistol and any other weapons to add to your arsenal. As you passed by a window, you noticed just how low the sun was setting, meaning you needed to either get to a safe place within the hospital or attempt to find a nearby building or house that was safer. 
Because let’s be honest, who knew who or what was in this hospital still. And you sure as fuck weren’t going to be sticking around long enough to find out. 
You lifted up your sleeve to check your bite, seeing a small amount of blood staining the bandage. You quietly cursed, knowing you had to leave as soon as possible before something detected your blood smell. The only thing that sucked about the bite being slow healing, is the fact it still bled and was still infected. You needed to get treated, but that came at a cost that wasn’t worth it. 
You quickly and quietly slipped out the same way you came in, darting into the overgrown nature the world was now, your pistol in hand and knife strapped at your thigh. 
**3 HOURS BEFORE**
“Are you being serious right now?” Jay scoffed, staring down at Heeseung as his hands, and parts of his face were stained red. 
Heeseung smirked as he looked up at his younger friend, “Obviously.” he chuckled, “We are in the zombie apocalypse, If I want to dye my hair red, I will dye my hair red.” 
Jay stared down at the hair supplies surrounding Heeseung on the floor, “Where the fuck did you even find all this?” 
Heeseung shrugged, “I found them a couple of months back the last time we left the zone. Only just now decided to put them to use.” 
Sunghoon let out a low laugh. He was sitting at the kitchen table with an old Polaroid camera in his hands. The old thing was broken, but that didn’t stop Sunghoon from wanting to fix it and use it, “You’d think being in the zombie apocalypse, dying your hair would be the last thing on your mind.” 
Jake agreed, “We should be stealing supplies that are needed.” 
“And this was needed!” Heeseung rolled his eyes, “Who says fashion had to die with the world?” 
Jay always loved how positive his older friend was. How unaffected he was by this fucked up world. But with the way his world came to an end, Heeseung kind of had no choice but to grin and bear it. To shove the past away and live in the now and for the future. Also being the oldest and taking up that mantle to be the sole source of happiness and good vibes for the group, he was better than the rest of the boys living in this cabin. 
Jay knelt down beside Heeseung on the floor, eyes wandering between all the supplies, “Damn you used up all the red.” 
Heeseung just smiled, “Want me to dye your hair?” 
Jay lifts his hand to run it through his black hair, debating if it even would be worth it. It would add some fun to his life. But ultimately he declined, “We are going out.” 
Jake groaned, and flopped himself down onto his bed, “Are we seriously sneaking out tonight?” 
Sunghoon leaned back in his chair, draping his arm over the back, “What are we smuggling out?” 
Jay shook his head, “It’s what we are going to smuggle in.” 
Heeseung kept his eyes pointed at the small square mirror he had propped up against a bike of old books on the floor as he continued to run his red dye-stained hands through his hair, “What could we possibly be smuggling in?” 
“Drugs, obviously,” Jake said, rolling onto his stomach, “What else could we smuggle into the zone that isn’t allowed to be here?” 
Jay shrugged, “I got a tip that a building about an hour south from here, someone from a neighboring safe zone dropped the drugs off there. We smuggle that in and sell that shit, we’d have enough money to last us for months.” 
“And who the fuck tipped you off?” Sunghoon scoffed, hands going back to fiddling with his camera. 
“I swear to god if you say Yeonjun,” Heeseung said with a click of his tongue, “Man is higher than a kite half the damn time.” 
Jay just smiles, “Nah, it wasn’t from Yeonjun or his crew.” 
“Then who?” Jake asked with pure confusion on his face. 
“Probably Jungkook,” Sunghoon guessed, “He’s the only other person who would care enough about smuggling drugs into the zone. He probably got someone in the jail to run their mouths to even pass on this information.” 
Jungkook was one of the local police officers in this safe zone. He wasn’t a dirty cop or anything, he just understood that sometimes people need a getaway. That getaway is either hard-core drugs, or even the lesser ones. Ones that either get you fucked up, or higher than a kite like Yeonjun is half the time. Either way, Jungkook allowed these four to sneak in and out of the zone as they pleased as long as they didn't get caught or bitten. Because once they got caught, Jungkook would hold no power to protect them. 
Jay just nodded and stood up, “We leave in an hour. Like I said, it would take us an hour to get to where we need to go.” 
“Oh, good!” Heeseung cooed, “That gives us plenty of time to bleach your hair.” 
Jay scrunched his nose, looking at the box of hair bleach sitting beside Heeseung. 
“There’s a pretty cool blonde color you can use, I sure as hell won’t use it.” 
Jay rolled his eyes and sat down beside his friend, “Make it quick.” 
**10 MINUTES BEFORE**
Jay, Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon all carefully walked into the small village that is said to have the drugs. 
Each of the boys kept their eyes open for the building that was described to them, guns locked and loaded and ready to fire in case of any trouble. 
The moonlight and the few shitty street lamps that still somehow worked were the only source of light they had to light the village. 
It was quiet, a bit too quiet for Jay’s liking but a blessing nevertheless. The last thing he needed was having to actually fire their weapons and alert any zombies their way. 
“Where the fuck is this building,” Jake softly snapped, “I do not like being out here.” 
“That makes two of us,” Heeseung agreed, “I don’t like the vibes here.” 
Most of the world has been overgrown with grass, plants, vines, etc etc etc. Each city or town or village outside the safe zones wouldn’t be well kept and taken care of. But this place? The grass was cut. Only a select few houses and buildings had vines covering them. Someone or a few people were taking care of this place. Jay could only imagine it was whoever dropped the drugs off here. Or so he hoped. 
You also found the small village, taking a mental note of how clean it was when it shouldn’t be. You didn’t like it, but you needed to eat, clean your bite, and sleep. This place would have to do until the sun comes up. 
Most of the houses or buildings were locked or covered in vines, and since the undead stalked around more freely at night, you didn’t want to risk breaking a door or window and settled for finding one that was already broken into. 
You found your way into a building where the door was barely holding onto its hinges. You walked in, seeing that it used to be an old convenience store that was yet to be raided. 
Your heart quickened at the sight, wasting no time to pile what food, medicines, and other supplies you could into your backpack. It was like you hit the jackpot, your luck showing off. 
Your luck brought you an old tin box sitting on a small shelf under the register (that unfortunately had zero money in it). You gently shook the box, hearing what sounded like a plastic bag shifting about. After opening the lid, your eyes widened at the contents.
Drugs. Hard ones. Ones that would knock you on your ass and get you high as fuck. You dug through the plastic bag, seeing some of the drugs were for pain in high dosages, which was perfect for your bitten arm. God damn were you lucky. 
You shoved the tin into your backpack, ready to find a place to sleep when a noise coming from the back of the store jolted you to a stop. Your heartbeat quickened and your breathing became unsteady. Your hand on your pistol tightened, shaking as you quietly walked towards the back. You prayed and prayed it was just some animal, or the wind blowing through the broken windows. 
You turned the corner towards the bathrooms, only to be met face-to-face with an undead monster. 
The thing hissed and groaned as it saw you, lunging forward, arms stretched out and drool dripping from its opened mouth. The smell of rotting flesh was enough to make you want to toss up everything you’d eaten that day. You only had enough time to take a few steps back before tripping over your own feet falling completely on your ass. 
You haven’t felt fear like this since you and your old team members got cornered. The flashbacks of watching your friends get eaten and torn about filled your brain. You started to panic, thinking this was it until that sparkle of hope filled you once again. You raised your pistol up, aiming at the zombie's head, and pulled the trigger twice. 
“Please tell me you all heard that too,” Heeseung whispered, the sounds of a gun being fired echoed across the village. 
“Yeah,” Jay took a deep breath in, “I heard it too.” 
The boys quickly went in the direction of the sound, eyes glancing in every direction to keep watch of any trouble until they found the building they were looking for and found something they weren’t expecting to find—you.  
You barely got to your feet and turned around when the four men approached you, shotguns aiming directly at you. 
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 
And that’s how you all ended up here, guns pointing at each other with every intent to kill. 
“She’s been fucking bit!!” Heeseung snapped, all four of the boys' weapons locking back into place pointing at you. 
“Shit,” Jay hissed. 
You lowered your pistol back at Jay, gritting your teeth, “It’s not what you think.” 
“Like hell it is!!” Sunghoon yelled, “I should put a few rounds into you right now!” 
Jay couldn’t explain it, but something felt off about this, about you. Your wrap was soaked in blood, but you can clearly see the blood has darkened in some areas of the wrap. Usually, a person who has been bitten turns within twenty-four hours. Your wound looks older than that. 
You whipped your weapon back to vampire fang, narrowing your eyes, “Shoot me and I’ll sure as hell make sure to get some rounds into you too.” 
“Sunghoon,” Heeseung sternly said, “Stand down.” 
Sunghoon locked his jaw and took a few steps back. Heeseung noticed it as well. The longer he stared at you, the more he could tell your bite looked too old. 
“Hoon, Jake,” Jay said, barely turning his head to look at the younger too, keeping his weapon pointed at you, “Go find what we came here for so we can leave, I don’t want to stick around long enough to find out if she has more friends here.” 
The younger too nodded, slowly backing away and then turning on their heels, running in different directions to find what they came here for. 
Heeseung and Jay kept their eyes on you. You knew once they got whatever they came for they would leave you here or kill you. 
You preferred the first option. 
“Fuck!” Jake yelled, finding the whole place empty, “Nothing is here!” 
Heeseung and Jay narrowed their eyes at you, you could read it all over their faces that they came here for what you found and shoved into your backpack. 
“Fucking bitch, plan to take those drugs to knock your ass out while you change? Maybe kill yourself in the process?” 
You showed your teeth, “What is it to you?” You snapped, “I found it first, fuck off!” 
Jay took a step closer to you, and you took two back, “We have a lot—and I mean a lot—of money riding on those drugs, hand them over before I kill you and take them myself.” 
“Might as well just kill her,” Heeseung scoffed, “It’ll be a blessing compared to what she’ll feel once the change takes over.” 
“It's not what you think!” you yelled again. 
Heeseung wasn’t listening, not really caring either. He’s had enough. They needed those drugs, needed that money to keep his brothers alive. So he stepped toward you quickly, sliding his shotgun tied to the strap behind his back, one hand gripping your wrists and the other at your backpack. 
He was too quick for you to process or make a move. It was obvious at the way your pistol left your hands and was kicked to the blonde, the way his knee bent into the back of yours buckling you to the ground, that his man had done this plenty of times. Has been in plenty of fights and probably killed multiple people. 
But you’d be damned if you were going to go down this easy. 
You slammed your weight to your back, to knock his hand off your backpack, then moved to the left, putting all your force into his side to push him off you. But his grip on your left wrist was unrelenting, his fingers held just above your wrap, slowly sliding it off. 
You managed to get him off you, sending him to his ass. You quickly stood to your feet, only to be met with your pistol touching your forehead, the blonde's eyes like fire burning into you. Jake and Sunghoon standing back behind him, pointing their guns at you again. 
“Heeseung,” Jay said, “You good buddy?” 
Your eyes darted to the redhead, watching as he stood up, eyes piercing. 
You looked back at the man in front of you, raising your hands back up, “Take the fucking drugs, this shit ain’t worth it.” It really wasn’t worth it. Even if you got away these four would chase you down until they got the box and killed you. You needed to survive for the sake of the friends you’ve lost. 
You kept your eyes locked with the blonde as Heeseung was now at your back, digging into it to pull out the tin box.  
Jay was about to pull away when his eyes darted back to your wrist, seeing the bite. Without thinking his free hand gripped your bitten wrist and pulled it forward, lowering the pistol to lift your sleep up higher. 
“Shit,” he hissed, “Guys, come look at this.” 
You were now surrounded by the four of them looking at your wound, every single one of their eyes widening. 
You also glanced down at your bite, it was obvious it was infected from it not being taken care of, but it was healing. And it was obvious that it was. 
“You’re immune?” The redhead said, his eyes now lifting to examine your face, “How is that possible?” 
Jay locked eyes with you again, then with his friends, “What the fuck have we gotten ourselves into?” 
Sneaking out of the safe zone with four people is one thing. But sneaking back in with four people while SMUGGLING another life and illegal drugs is another. 
The safe zone might be one of the biggest in the world, but everyone knows who Jay, Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon are. So with you standing in the middle of the four as you all climbed up through a hole that leads into an abandoned broken-down home and the face of a military officer staring back at you, your heart sank. And the looks of the four boys around you were evidence enough that you all just got caught. 
“What the actual fuck is going on?!” the officer snapped, his eyes filled with such a fire that I made you want to duck under the boys and back down to the hole and escape into the free world. 
“Jungkook,” Heeseung said, raising his hands up, letting his shotgun dangle from his chest, “Listen, man, we didn’t plan this either.” 
“You know they keep count of every mother fucker in this safe zone!” Jungkook snapped
“We know!” Heeseung snapped back, “But you’re going to want to see this.” 
Heeseung whips around to you, reaching his hand out for you to take it, nodding his head to move closer to him, “Come here, YN.” 
You glare at him, shaking your head. You still didn’t trust these four boys, why would you willingly hand over your secret to a military officer? 
Jake nudged you forward, stumbling over your feet and reaching for Heeseung’s hand anyway. 
Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest and it made your heart sink even more. The man was BUFF. His big strong arms flexed naturally and the tattoos that ran from his hand and up his right arm made him seem even more scary, like this man could snap your neck without breaking a sweat. 
Heeseung barely lifted your sleeve up to expose your bite and Jungkook was five steps back with his pistol drawn out towards you. 
What’s with everyone pointing guns at you today?
“You brought an INFECTED here?!” he yelled, the hell fire burning in his eyes raging more, “I should kill each of you right now for bringing her here.” 
Heeseung rolled his eyes and pulled your sleeve up further, “Fucking look!” 
Jungkook stared down at your arm, his gun slowly falling to the floor, “How can that be possible?” 
A question for you. 
You just looked down at the bite, shaking your head, “I don’t know.” 
Jungkook silently looked between you all, “Fuck!” 
He shoved his pistol back into the holster at his hip and paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair. 
“Get her back to the house, NOW!” he growled, pointing a finger at all four of them one by one, “Do not let anyone see her, you understand?” They all nodded, “Good, and make sure she fucking bathes and gets that wound cleaned up and wrapped. I’ll come by when I get my head straight.” 
You now walked even closer in between the four boys than what you were earlier, wandering your eyes to every person you walked passed, scared you’d be discovered. That feeling eased up a bit as they led you down an alleyway, then across another street before quickly shuffling you inside what you assumed was their home. 
Once the door was closed and deadbolted, you scanned their home. It was small, but big enough to house the four of them. 
There weren’t any rooms, so their four beds lined up against the west side of the house, with a couch across from it with a small table and a radio beside it. 
Their kitchen on the east side of the house was also small, fitting enough space for the normal kitchen essentials and a table for eating in the middle, a bathtub sitting in the corner. 
You were scared for a second about how these four use the bathroom but noticed outside the kitchen window an outhouse. 
“This used to be a storage house,” Jake said, dropping his body onto the couch, “The four of us fixed it up and made it our home. It’s not much, but it’s something.” 
It was definitely better than the places you’ve been sleeping in recently. 
Jay was now handing you a clean pair of clothes, “Wear these after you bathe, we’ll find you some that fit better tomorrow.” 
You thanked him and walked to the tub, dropping your backpack into a chair at the table. You stared at the tub with excitement. You’ve been without a proper bath since being bitten and the thought of getting a warm bath made your heart sink. 
You turned the hot water knob, watching as the clean water flowed into the tub. Most safe zones were lucky if they had clean running water and basically electricity. The bigger zones obviously are the luckier ones. Yours, on the other hand, had no electricity and water was so scarce there were designated days when people were allowed to bathe. 
Without another thought, your hands went to the hems of your shirt and slowly started lifting. 
“Woah woah what the fuck are you doing?!?” Sunghoon snapped, his heart racing at the sight of barely seeing your belly. 
“I’m fixing to bathe? I stink?” 
“And you are just going to strip in front of us?!?” Jake said, the clear blush settling in on his cheeks. 
You scoffed, letting out a laugh, “The world is ending as we know it and you’re worried about seeing a female naked? Shouldn’t you be glad to see it?” 
Jake sat in silence, his eyes now wandering to Heeseung and Jay, who kept their eyes on you, their reactions haven't changed since you first met them. 
“Well, I’m not about to be labeled as a pervert,” Sunghoon said, rushing back to the front door, “I’m going to sit outside.” 
“Yeah same here,” Jake jumped from the couch, following his best friend out. 
Heeseung finally looked at Jay, who was already staring back at him. 
You watched as their eyes communicated with each other in a silent language that you didn’t know. Then with a nod Heeseung turned and followed Jake out, closing the door behind him. 
Jay’s eyes were back on you, his facial expression still not changing. 
“What? Not going to follow your friends out?” 
He shrugged, “Someone has to make sure you don’t steal our shit and make a run for it.” 
You glared at him and scoffed, “I survived for months with less than what you have here, my safe zone didn’t have anything and I made it perfectly fine even after I was bit and couldn’t return back. I have no need for your stuff.” 
Which was true. You survived perfectly fine without the gifts the bigger safe zones had. And then with you having to hunt for your food and survive on less than your safe zone. You didn’t need his shit. You were perfectly fine. 
Jay just shrugged again, crossing his arms behind him as he kept his eyes on you. And you took it as a challenge. 
You slid your shirt from your body and let it hit the floor, keeping eye contact with him as your fingers went to your jeans, unbuttoning and dropping them to your ankles. 
Jay was completely unfazed as he looked at you with nothing but your sports bra and panties on. He was more focused on the scars that covered both your arms. 
“What are those from?” he asked. You already knew where his eyes were looking. 
“Happened the same day I was bitten,” you said, now looping your fingers into your sports bra and pulling it over your head, “I had to jump through a window before I got killed by our lovely undead friends outside the safe zone.” 
Jay wanted to ask about how you even got into the situation that led to getting bitten and jumping through a window. Shit had to have been rough. 
Jay continued looking over your body, eyes stopping at your breasts and then back up to your eyes. You smirked at him, “Not going to turn around?” 
He once again shrugged, “Like you said, I have bigger things to worry about than seeing a naked woman in front of me.” 
You quickly scanned him up and down, not seeing any signs that your almost completely naked body was affecting him, “Does it not bother you?” 
“It’s just skin, YN.” 
Fair enough. 
You dropped your panties to the floor and climbed into the tub, stinking your body in completely, letting the hot water fill you with warmth for a few seconds before turning the knob to stop the flow of water. 
Jay watched you relax, watched as your hands rubbed up and down your scarred arms. He wanted to press more about them, to ask how it was possible you even survived whatever happened, mostly with how your bite is clearly infected from not being taken care of properly. 
“Are you going to keep staring at me or what??” 
“Would you rather I sit down and whip my dick out?” he narrows his eyes at you. 
“Fucking prick,” you scowled. 
“Don’t ask stupid fucking questions then.” 
“We just met and you’ve already seen me naked and it had no effect on you yet you keep staring at me. I think I deserve to ask the “stupid” questions.” 
You just stared back at him, trying to read his face but getting nothing. 
To be honest, sex was the last thing on Jay’s mind. He’s been through way too much bullshit to let some random woman and her cunt affect him that easily. It’s not even that he was disinterested in sex, he had plenty of women around the safe zone that would drop to their knees so fast for him. Plenty of women he’s taken to his bed and pleasured them all night long. But sex wasn’t something he needed to survive like how so many other people in safe zones act like and turn to in a way to forget that the world went to shit. Jay couldn’t afford to let that happen with him. 
Plus Jay didn’t even know you and wasn’t some asshole to force you into sex with him all because you stripped in front of him. 
You eventually looked away from him, giving up on trying to read him, “Can I have a washcloth and soap?” 
Jay walked to one of the cabinets, pulled out a new bar of soap, a washcloth, and some old shampoo, and then handed them all to you, you mumbled out a thanks. 
You all of a sudden felt guilty, thinking maybe Jay possibly had a girlfriend or even a wife and you just bared yourself to him. But then wiped that thought off the table, there was no way. Because if he did he would be with them, not some smuggler. Then another thought came into your head and it was so simple: maybe he just didn’t find you attractive. 
You felt your self-esteem plummet and any confidence you had was out the window. You already figured you had a fair body, curvy hips, and busty breasts. The boy back home you used to fuck around with was always finding ways to bend you over. It boosted your ego, but maybe it boosted it too high if some random stranger’s dick didn’t get hard at the sight of you stripping in front of him. 
Jay read your expressions like a book, getting more confused than anything at why you’d let what he thinks affect you. You clearly were strong-willed and a survivor, already proving enough that you didn’t need the fancy things to keep surviving. So why let those small stupid thoughts affect you that way? 
Jay went to confront you, but the knocking at the door pulled him back, turning his head slightly to listen, “Jungkook is here,” Heeseung called from the other side of the door. 
Jay looked back at you, “You can go deal with whatever that is,” you said as you ran the washcloth over your arms, “I promise I won’t steal anything or go anywhere. Don’t know my way around this zone anyways.” 
Which was true, you were so focused on not being seen that you wouldn’t remember the way to sneak out. 
Jay just nodded, turning around and heading for the door, “Just so you know,” he said stopping at the door, “I might seem like a pervert for saying it, but you do have a sexy body, and don’t let anyone tell you differently or make you think differently. Don’t take it not affecting me personally, I truly have more important things to worry about than getting laid.”  
Then he slipped out the door, leaving you alone in the house. 
Jungkook stood on the grass with his hands on his hips, eyes wandering everywhere, making sure no one else was about to hear what he was fixing to speak about. 
“What’s up?” Jay asked, standing beside Heeseung. 
“Her bite mark,” Jungkook started, “It looks about a month old, ya?” 
All four men nodded, “It’s what she told us too, on the way here,” Jake said, “Don’t know how true that could be though.” 
“There’s been some rumors—strictly just rumors—that there’s been a few others that have been found immune,” Jungkook said barely above a whisper, his eyes continuing to dart around the area. 
“How is that possible?” Heeseung asked, “Three years and there has yet to be a cure to stop this madness and now you’re telling me there are others like her that are immune?” 
“There were others like her,” Jungkook sighed, “They either were killed before they got to the capital or killed themselves before being taken there. But again, it’s baseless rumors. No proof, until her.” 
Sunghoon scoffed, “Can we please get to the point of all this?” 
“Hoon,” Heeseung said with a warning. 
“I contacted the capital and told them we found an immune,” The four men stood in silence, staring at Jungkook, not knowing what to say or expect next, “So,” Jungkook was smirking now, “I have a job for you four.” 
Jake chuckled, “You’re fucking crazy, man.”
Jungkook shot him a warning look, a silent reminder of who he was and what his rank was, “At least hear my offer first before calling me crazy,” Jake crossed his arms and waited for Jungkook to continue, “One million. Each. If you drag her across the country to the capital.” 
One million. Each. That’s four million dollars. They would be fucking set, no longer having to worry about fighting for money to buy food and survive. No longer having to leave the safe zone to smuggle shit in and out for money. They would be safe to finally just live. But the problem lies in the trip. And that trip wasn’t worth it. 
“Nah,” Jake laughed, “You got me fucked up. I am a smuggler, not an escort. Make the government come pick her ass up. Not my circus, not my monkeys.” 
Everyone’s eyes were back on Jungkook. He shrugged, “They have other things to worry about besides making that trip to pick up one individual. Plus it would make a scene if they flew in here and just took her. It would make it obvious that there are immune in this world. It would cause a panic, give the people false hope for a cure.” 
Jay watched as each of his friends shook their heads, saying how it wasn’t worth it to drag a stranger across the fucking country to hand you over just for the possibility of a cure being found. 
They all talked over each other, Jungkook trying to convince them with all the money they would have, and the three others not accepting it. 
“Fucking hell, I’ll go alone,” Jay said without even realizing he was opening his mouth. 
“Jay, no!” Heeseung snapped, “That bitch ain’t worth it! We stick to our normal jobs!” 
Jay looks at Jungkook, “If I take her alone will we still get four million total?” Jungkook nodded, and that’s all Jay needed. 
“You’re fucking stupid, man!” Sunghoon hissed, “What are you thinking?!” 
“That we would be fucking set and not have to beg ever again for food or work our asses off in this stupid prison for money and food. To never have to worry about stepping foot outside this zone. To remain safe,” Jay didn’t realize he was holding his breath as he said that, taking a massive inhale in and clenching his fingers against his biceps, “When would we leave?” 
“Tomorrow night, It’ll give me enough time to let the capital know you accepted their offer and to gather enough weapons and materials for your journey.” 
Jay just nodded, “I am doing this, and you can’t stop me.” 
Heeseung gritted his teeth, “And what if they kill her the moment you hand her over?” 
Jay just shrugs, “Not my circus, not my monkeys. But at least we’ll have four million dollars.” 
You covered your hands over your ears, closing your eyes tightly. Your breathing was uneven as you heard your heartbeat in your ears, Jay’s voice was muffled and drowning out of the sound of your heartbeat and the screams of the undead surrounding the area. 
“YN!!” he said loud enough for you to hear him but quiet enough for the undead to not hear him, “YN, calm down!” 
You couldn’t hear him, you just knew he was speaking to you. The memories of being cornered in the building resurfaced. The sounds of your friends screaming, the smells of the dead, and the blood dripping from everyone. The visions of you feeling your best friend being ripped away from you. Everything was replying over and over. 
You started to hyperventilate, your every breath loud enough to draw the undead in your and Jay’s direction. 
Jay grabbed both of your wrists, trying to pull them from your ears, him repeating your name over and over again but nothing worked. 
“Fuck,” he hissed, taking a look around. The two of you were in a safe enough spot that the zombies wouldn’t be able to reach you, but once they found where you both were hiding…it was over. 
Jay placed his hands on top of yours, ��YN, look at me.” But you didn’t respond, your breathing getting worse as the time ticked by. 
He was running out of ways to calm you down and get you to be quiet. His heart was racing faster as fear was overtaking him and his options running low. 
Jay slides his hands to your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing over the back of your hands at your ears. Without another thought, he moved forward. 
**A WEEK BEFORE**
Jay forced you to get as much rest as possible to be awake enough for the start of the journey to the capital. 
Jungkook said it would be a five-month walk there if everything went smoothly and no hiccups on the road on the way there. Or ya know, the two of you don’t get killed. 
The moment Jungkook knocked on the door to the house, Heeseung quickly answered, swinging the door open to let him slip in before anyone could see. 
He carried two backpacks filled with food, medicine, and weapons and ammunition. 
“This should last you both the five-month journey,” He said, pushing his tongue into the side of his cheek, “That's if you ration the food and the ammunition. Just don’t put yourselves into situations to have to use too much.” 
Jay scoffed, sliding the backpack onto his shoulders, “Don’t you know who you’re talking to?” 
Jungkook chuckled, pulling him into a quick hug, “Safe travels.”
Jungkook didn’t say another word as he darted out of the house, Heeseung closing and locking the door behind him. 
“You don’t have to do this,” Jake said with a shake of his head, “There’s no need to do this. We’ve survived perfectly fine before.” 
Jay has been weighing out his options ever since agreeing to do this. Always leaning toward taking this trip. He didn’t want to watch his brothers suffer anymore. Yeah they all weren’t struggling, but they would be so much better off once that money was in his hands. 
The amount of food they would have to fill their bellies, not having to worry about rationing. Not having to shove money away just to save up for the food, more clothes, and the other bills this safe zone forced on the residents here. They wouldn’t have to smuggle ever again. Jungkook could get off their backs about certain jobs. They would be free. 
“I have to do this,” Jay breathes, “I want to do this.” 
And hey, who knows? Maybe giving her off to the capital will make a cure and the world could be saved. Maybe. 
Sunghoon pulls Jay’s shotgun from the hidden closet, “Just don’t do anything stupid, ya?” 
Jay chuckled, “I’ll leave the stupid here with you three.” 
Everyone laughed but you and Heeseung, who stood at the door still and leaning against the wall, arms crossed and his face filled with worry. 
You have only known these guys for a short time, but you can tell each of them rely on each other for everything. Whatever terrible things these four had to endure before the outbreak and even after…they became family. Inseparable. Bonded for the rest of their lives. 
Jay pulled the younger two into hugs, saying how he’ll be back within a year. 
Heeseung pushed himself off the wall, dropping his arms to pull Jay into a hug, the older locking his jaw when he looked at you, “You come back in one piece, got it!”
Jay rolled his eyes, “You know I will Hee.” 
Heeseung pulled away, finally looking away from you, “She better be worth all this fucking trouble,” he whispers, eyes quickly darting to you to see you adjusting your backpack on your shoulders, “What will you do if they actually kill her the moment you get there?” 
Jay just shrugs, “Not my problem once the money is in my hands.” 
Heeseung sighs, “She’s still a human being. I can only imagine how life has been since finding out she was immune.” 
Jay tilted his head back to look at you, to look at the wrap that barely stuck out of your long-sleeve shirt. “She probably has been through hell to keep it a secret.” 
You look back up at them, “Ready to go yet or are you two going to make out before we leave?” 
Heeseung rolled his eyes, “Good luck with that attitude man,” 
Jay sighed, “Yeah. I’ll need it.” 
It didn’t take the two of you long to leave the house and quickly and quietly make your way back to the same tunnels and escape route you used to get into the safe zone. 
Jay helped pull you out of the manhole then kicked the metal plate back over it and locked it tightly. 
He swung his shotgun from his back to his front, positioning his hands in the right places before walking ahead of you, “Come on, let’s get this over with Miss Immune.” 
You snarl at him but follow behind anyway. 
This was the last thing you wanted to happen. To be turned into the capital. To be used as some experiment and plaything for scientists to gock over. 
“Might as well just kill me and get it over with,” you scoffed, keeping your eyes on the ground, stepping over everything Jay was, “They will just kill me eventually.” 
Jay shrugged, “You’re worth four million to them, they can do whatever they want after they have you in their hands.” 
“Such a gentleman,” you teased, “Did your mother ever teach you how to treat a lady?” 
He chuckles, “My manners went out the window the moment you pointed a gun at my head.” 
You glared at the back of his head, “Says the one that surrounded me with four shotguns and then pointed my pistol directly to my forehead.”
Jay said nothing in return and kept walking forward. Eventually slinging his gun back around his back, shoving his hands into his pockets. 
Neither of you spoke for hours as the night pressed on. The woods were quiet, a bit too quiet for your liking and the only thing making you feel at ease was the fact Jay kept his gun resting on his back and hands shoved into his pockets. He obviously knew these woods better than you. He was a smuggler, after all. 
Even after all the sleep you received back at the house, drowsiness found you anyway. You yawned and rubbed your eyes, “Can we find somewhere to sleep?” 
Jay didn’t realize how tired he was either until after hearing your voice, a yawn escaping his lips as well, “There’s a small shed we’ve used when our smuggling routes take a couple of days, we can stop there to eat and sleep.”
“How far is it?” you asked, not knowing how much longer you could actually go. 
Jay looks at the surrounding area before he answers, “About another hour.” 
You groaned but accepted it. Soon enough the small shed came into view. It was overgrown with vines and weeds but still stood strong. 
Sleep hit you the minute you dropped into the dusty cot, not caring enough to clean it. Jay did the same. 
The moment the sun started to shine through the shed, Jay woke you up and started the journey again. 
The whole day passed in silence, only speaking when spoken to and only stopping for food, bathroom breaks, and to rest. 
A week has passed when the two of you approach an old factory building. A long chain-linked fence surrounded the area. 
“Shit,” Jay scoffed, “We’ll have to cut through.” 
“Can’t just, like you know, go around?” it was such a simple question, yet Jay looked at you as if you asked the stupidest question in the world, “Fine!” you snapped, holding your hands up in defense, “You’re the one who knows better, right?” 
“We’d waste time going around,” Jay locks his fingers around the holes of the fence, “Every second counts, plus this place might have materials we can gather.” 
And there he goes, climbing up and over the fence, carefully dropping himself back to the ground and turning to face you, “Well?” he raised a brow, “Get your ass moving.” 
You roll your eyes and attach your fingers and toes of your boots in the loops, lifting yourself up, crawling to the top, and swinging your leg over the top, “Catch me?” 
Jay narrowed his eyes, “You survived by yourself for god knows how long before meeting me, and now you’re acting like you need help?” 
“I’m scared of heights,” 
“You’re fucking joking.” 
You smile, clearly loving how he reacts to your teasing, “Yeah I’m fucking with you,” you dropped down to the ground, Jay’s hands quickly resting on your shoulders to keep you from losing balance, “Learn to live a little, okay?” 
His glare was unrelenting as you walked past him, “I lived plenty before the world ended.” 
You watched as he hurried past you, wanting to ask what he meant. To know some part of how he was before the world went to utter shit. You were stuck with him for five months, might as well get to actually know him, right? 
You opened your mouth to ask him, only to be met with his hands now on you. One covering your mouth and the other pulling you to his chest, backing the both of you up against a truck, “Keep quiet, we have company.” 
Your eyes wander to where he was looking, seeing the few undead friends that lurked around the entrance to the factory. 
You pulled his hand from your mouth, catching your breath and assessing what to do. 
“We need to find a way around without alerting them.” 
“I already know that, YN,” he whispers, “The question is how.” 
Jay searched the area, pinpointing every safe spot that led to the door. 
“Okay,” he released you from his grip, “Stay on my ass.” 
You followed on his heels, holding your breath the entire way until his hands touched the handle of the factory door and pushed it open. 
You glanced around at your undead friends who stalked around, their bodies bunched over as they slowly dragged their feet with each step they took, grunts leaving their mouths. 
Jay peaked into the factory, the only light showing was from the windows, barely giving off enough light for him to confirm the opening at least, was clear. 
He carefully and quickly slid between the doors, reaching back out to pull you in behind him, closing the door and locking it for extra protection. 
You both took in the factory. It was a complete mess. Tables, papers, machinery, torn clothes, and everything in between covered the floors. The smell of this place was disgusting. The mixture of oils, grease, blood, and dead things—probably both humans, zombie, and animals—filled the air. 
You tried to not throw up your lunch, covering your mouth with your hand, “I don’t like it here.” 
“That makes two of us,” Jay said softly, “Taking a flashlight from his backpack, “Let’s get moving, and keep quiet, we don’t know what’s in here.” 
You followed behind him at a distance, eyes wandering over everything possible, looking for any material that could aid you both. But so far, nothing. Everything was either broken or just couldn’t be used. Nothing of help or a service to either of you. 
Jay had a bad feeling about this place, like whatever happened here was a lot worse than the remnants of this place give off. It was way too quiet to just be abandoned. His gut feeling told him to look for anything—and everything—possible that would stick out. Things that shouldn’t be here. He swallowed hard, flashing his light down to the floor, seeing scratch marks going in every direction, dried blood staining the tile. 
Then it clicked in his head. Everything made sense. 
This whole factory was a trap. 
This place wasn’t abandoned. Not even close. It was purposely left like this to lure in survivors, making them think they found a safe place to hide. Whoever ran this factory obviously wasn’t here, or else something would have already gone wrong. “YN,” he whispers, “This place is a trap.” 
“I know,” you said with a shaky breath. Jay was alerted to the tone of your voice, whipping around to see the tears swelling your eyes. He traced his eyes down, seeing the cord you’ve stepped on, “Something clicked when I stepped on it,” you tried to hold back the tears, to look brave in front of him, to look like a survivor. But you failed, the fear washing over you too quickly, “Jay,” you cried. 
“Shhh, no, hey,” he quickly gets closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Calm down, let me figure out what to do.” 
You nodded, feeling a tear slide down your cheek. Jay lifted his hand and wiped away the tear, cupping your face and tracing his fingers along your jaw as he walked away from you, following where the cord led. It was plugged into one of the machines. He wandered his eyes back to the other end of the core, following it back to your feet, and then continued to where it was plugged into the wall. Jay wasn’t stupid, he knew if he just unplugged the cord it would make the machine react. He and Jake have rigged multiple machines to still set off if unplugged. The only way would be to cut the cord completely. 
Jay knelt to his knees, setting the flashlight to the floor and sliding a folded knife from his pocket, whipping it open. He took a deep breath, counting down from three before folding the cord and cutting it. 
You cry out and drop to your knees, covering your hands over your ears at the ringing alarm that Jay set off. 
“Fuck!” He screamed, quickly standing back to his knees and rushing to you, “We need to fucking go, NOW!” 
Whoever this bastard was that rigged that trap was a damned genius, an absolute asshole, but a genius. To rig a machine to set off an alarm when cut? The more Jay thought about it as he dragged you back up to your feet, the more he realized the alarm would have been set off either way. Cutting the power in either way would have set the alarm off. 
The two of you barely took a few steps when the sounds of the undead surrounded the factory outside, because, of course, it would. That damn alarm just alerted whatever was outside—and inside—this factory. He needed to get that alarm off, and now. 
Jay dragged you with him to what looked like the office of the building, not wasting time checking for a button or way to turn it off. He whipped the shotgun around and sent bullets into every control panel until the alarm went silent. 
But unfortunately, Jay letting some rounds into the panel only sent whatever dead friends that were in the building to their exact location. 
Jay grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the office, running as fast as he could and praying your legs could keep up with him. This wasn’t the first time he’s had to run from these monsters, or even hide from them. It wasn’t a skill he wanted to mark off his checklist of survival but had no nevertheless. You’ve only had to run from them the night your friends were killed while you fled. Your legs felt like they were led to the memory coming back. 
You started to lose your breath, the fear covering every inch of you as you tried to focus on Jay’s back, on the warmth of his hand wrapped in yours. It worked for a bit as he dragged you down every hallway to find an exit. Worked until you both ran past a door, that just so happened to have zombies crawling inside it, who watched the two of you run back. 
You heard the crack of the door first, Jay heard it the second time. His head whips around to see the wood of the door barely breaking and see them pile out of the room. 
Jay acted fast, shoving you into an office room he prayed was safe. His eyes worked their magic, scanning as quickly as he could and seeing the room was in fact, clear. His hands only left you for a few seconds to close the door carefully, praying they didn’t hear it. But obviously, and because why would they not, heard the shut of the door anyway, alerting them in this direction. 
They ran past, obviously not knowing which room you two snuck into, but their loud groans, hisses, and whales were loud enough to send every zombie on this side of the factory toward this hallway. 
Which is how you ended up here. Back pressed to the wall, hands to your ears as you hyperventilate. 
He was running out of ways to calm you down and get you to be quiet. His heart was racing faster as fear was overtaking him and his options running low. 
Jay slides his hands to your cheeks, his thumbs rubbing over the back of your hands at your ears. Without another thought, he moved forward. 
He connected his lips to yours, taking in every breath you let out. You opened your eyes quickly, seeing him staring back at you. You focused on the brown of his eyes, focused on the way his lips felt against yours. Your heart rate slowed, and the shaking of your hands stopped. It wasn’t even like he was kissing you kissing you, he just held his lips to yours, unmoving. 
You waited for him to pull away, to pull away and tease you for being a scary cat. But he didn’t. 
His eyes slowly closed, quickly removing his lips and connecting them again, pressing his lips harder to yours. You also closed your eyes, kissing him back. Your hands at your ears, slipped down to his wrists, squeezing them tightly as he shifted his hands to the edge of your jaw, fingers gripping the back of your head. 
Jay doesn’t know what came over him, he only planned to kiss you once and have it be long enough to steady out your breathing. But something drew him in and he couldn’t stop. 
Jay licks your bottom lip, waiting for your mouth to open and let him inside. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth as you sucked on the muscle, savoring the taste of him. 
His grip on your face tightens as he softly groans into your mouth, clearly losing himself. Knowing he needed to stop but not being able to. The feel of your lips being addicting. 
You need to stop, you need to stop, you need to stop. 
The sounds of the zombies outside the door faded, the world finally becoming quiet and it was enough to make him stop. 
Jay quickly pushed away from you, sliding himself across the floor and to the other side of the office, completely out of breath. He brought his knees to his chest in hopes of hiding the raging boner in his pants, dropping his face into his palms, then running them through his hair. 
You took a few deep breaths, not taking your eyes off him. 
“We will give it time before leaving, to make sure everything is clear to leave,” he said, doing everything he could to not look at you. 
You nodded as if he could see it anyway. And not another word was spoken. 
It’s been two months since he’s kissed you. Two months' worth of him doing everything to not look at you, to not touch you. He barely has been able to even speak to you. Reminding himself over and over again what his true mission was: to hand you over to the capital, get paid, and get his ass back home. Nothing else mattered. 
Nothing. 
You dropped to your knees, wiping the sweat from your forehead, “Jay?” he ignored you and kept walking forwards, “Jay!” silence, “ASSHOLE!!!” 
Jay turned around, piercing holes into you with his eyes that were also on fire at you calling him an asshole. At least it finally got his attention. 
“I am tired,” you breathed, wiping the sweat that was already recollected on your forehead. 
“Okay, and?” he said calmly. If it weren’t for the fire burning in his eyes you would have thought he was actually calm. But Jay couldn’t afford to be nice to you, not when he’s fighting every demon within himself to not press his lips against yours again. Not when he has four million dollars waiting for him. 
You glared back at him, “I need rest? We’ve been walking for days straight and only took a couple of breaks to sleep for an hour.” 
“How the fuck did you survive alone for so long?” he questioned, starting to think maybe you just hid the entire time before they found you, “what happened to that attitude when we first met?” 
You stood back to your feet, quickly walking past him and shoving your middle finger in his face, barely grazing his nose, “Want my attitude? Here it is asshat.” 
Jay smirked as he watched you walk ahead of him, eyes without his permission moving from the back of your head down to your hips, watching the way they sway. Jay scoffed at himself, quickly dropping his eyes to the ground and rushing after you, “Smartass, you don’t even know where you are going.” 
You stopped walking, staring straight ahead. 
But Jay didn’t stop, and ran right into you, almost knocking you over completely, his hands quickly grabbing your shoulders. His rage settled in again, “What the fuck! Don’t just stop wa—“ 
“Long time no see, Jay Park.” 
He moved on autopilot, hands rushing to your waist and shoving your behind him in the same motion of wiping his gun from his back to front, finger itching to pull the trigger, “Same to you, Choi Soobin. What are you doing so far out from your zone?” 
The blonde smirked, “Was on a smuggle run, but shouldn’t I be asking you that question, Jay?” 
 A laugh from behind, “Yeah, aren’t you the one who is a little too far from your zone?”
You pulled your pistol from its holster, facing your back to Jay’s and pointing it at a blue-haired man. 
Jay narrowed his eyes, snaking one hand behind him to grab your shirt, pulling you closer to him, back to back, keeping his shotgun aimed at Soobin, “I am also on a smuggling run, Huening Kai, just passing through.” 
“You know,” a voice to his right, “This is our territory, there is just no passing through here.” 
Jay was barely able to glare to his right, seeing Beomgyu pointing a rifle at you and him. 
Then another laugh to the left of him, his eyes darting to see Taehyun walking closer, also pointing his rifle, “Jay, did you really think we wouldn’t have seen you two when you got close to our zone?” 
Jay just chuckled, not because of the fact they were even close to another zone, but because he let themselves get close to another zone. He was so caught up in trying to ignore you and push down his demons that he didn’t realize how close he pulled you both here. But he kept laughing, “What I think is Yeonjun is missing out, isn’t he? My feelings hurt that he isn’t here.” 
Soobin just smiled, “You think my brothers would just leave me behind?” Yeonjun said, finally making his appearance from behind Soobin, “That wounds me.” 
Jay just rolls his eyes, “Are we done here? I have important shit to do.” 
“Like what?” the blonde leader asked, his eyes darting behind Jay to look at you, “What are you smuggling, exactly?” 
You pressed your back harder against Jay’s, feeling his hand tighten at your shirt. 
Soobin just tilts his head, his smile growing wider, “Don’t tell me it’s the girl.” 
Your heart stopped and Jay kept quiet, not having a damn thing to say as a comeback. The only thing on his mind was to protect you, to keep you so close to him that he could fuse with you if possible. 
But Jay knew telling the truth, or well parts of it, was the only way to get around when it came to these five. Jay has dealt with them enough in the past to know how they work, “I’m taking her to the capital.” 
“Jay!” you snapped. 
“Shut up!” was his reply to you, “She’s important to the capital and I have been tasked to get her there. We honestly were just passing through, it’s my bad we got too close.” 
Soobin looked between the eyes of each of his brothers, each of them giving him nods and shrugs, “It’s getting late, don’t want you getting caught up with our…walking dead at night. Stay in our zone for the night.”
Jay wanted to say no, to say they were fine. But the death truth was they were running low on supplies. Needed clean clothes and showers. Your bite mark needed to be cleaned, which is why Jay thinks you’re been more out of it the last few days than normal. He knew you also needed some proper sleep and not being able to find any safe place in days to actually give you that rest killed him, “Fine. We leave at first light.” 
You wanted to protest, turning around completely to yell at him, to reject their offer for him. But all he did was grab your waist and pull you to his side, lowering his gun over to his shoulder and giving you the look of warning to keep your mouth shut. So you didn’t fight him. You needed to stay alive anyway, who knew what would happen to Jay, Heeseung, Jake, Sunghoon, and Jungkook if Jay failed to get you to the capital. And you didn’t want to think about it. So you clung to his side as everyone walked forward, Beomgyu and Taehyun standing at yours and Jay’s side as Kai stayed behind you, and Soobin and Yeonjun leading the way. 
“Where are your three stooges at?” Yeonjun asked, barely turning his head around to smile at Jay, “Not used to seeing you as a lone wolf.” 
You tuned out their conversation, keeping your eyes locked off into the distance, biting your lip to keep from talking. You don't know how Jay knew these five or why they obviously seem to be on bad terms, the last thing you needed to do was open your mouth and make it all worse. 
Huening Kai kept eyeing you and Jay, looking for anything possible to tell him more about what was actually going on with the two of you. Jay isn’t ever by himself without the other three. And Jay isn’t the type of person to smuggle a human, drugs and weapons were more his and his friend's forte, so why did he have you attached to him as if they were going to rip you away from him? 
“Ahhh,” Kai giggled, there’s feelings involved. He kept his eyes wandering, barely glancing over to your arm and back up to your shoulder before tracing them quickly back down, seeing the bandage peeking out from your long sleeve, “Haha! Holy shit guys! She’s been bit.” 
Just as quick as the five of them turned to face the two of you, pointing their weapons, Jay was pulling you to his chest and snapping your pistol from its holster at your hip and pointing it straight ahead at Soobin and Yeonjun. 
“Holy shit is right, man,” Yeonjun laughed, “No fucking wonder you’re out here alone, Jay. Going to the capital, my ass.” 
Fucking Huening Kai.
The grip on your waist tightened, Jay snarling at each of them, “It’s not what you think it is.” 
“Oh? It’s not?” Soobin hissed, his friendly cute persona being replaced with his cool, hard, leader persona, “Give me a reason to not kill you both right fucking now.”
“Because she was hurt,” Jay said quickly, “We’ve been traveling for two months. We had to climb a fence and she got herself caught. That’s it.” 
You could hear how fast Jay’s heart was racing in his chest, how hard his body went the moment Kai opened his mouth. He pushed you even closer to him, leaving no room between the two of you. 
The rage Jay felt course through his body was scaring him. The thoughts he had in his head on the ways he would kill all five of them just by pointing a gun at you. It was scaring him at the things he was willing to do to protect you. Scaring him because he didn’t understand why. 
“What does the capitol want with her then?” Soobin asked, clearly not believing the story, “What’s so special?” 
Jay just shrugged, “Beats me. And nor do I care to know. All I know is I’m getting a fat paycheck for getting her there.” The hurt you felt at his words when his actions towards you right now were the opposite. You felt confused. First, he kisses you the way he did back at the factory, then turns completely cold and now he’s got you pressed to his chest, grip unrelenting as he points your gun at the threat in front of him. Maybe all he really did care about was the money. 
To Jay’s surprise, each of them lowered their weapons, “There’s the Jay I know,” Soobin teased, “Let’s just get back in the zone before the dead decide to get us to join them.” 
Everyone walked in silence the rest of the short walk to the safe zone and to your surprise, they didn’t sneak back into the zone, their military guards just…let them in? You looked up at Jay, him already answering you in a whisper without looking back at you, “This safe zone is full of smugglers and corrupted police, it’s how they survive here. The normal citizens and police don’t know how corrupt it is. They are very very sneaky. It’s one of the most dangerous zones right now.” 
You didn’t answer. Just put your eyes back in front of you as you all entered the zone. Jay pulled you closer to him again, his eyes darting to every person who looked his way, who looked your way. 
“We have one room available for you two to share,” Soobin said pointing at the small building to his left, “We will come by tomorrow to let you back out of the zone. Until then I suggest you stay inside, or at least keep her inside. There are clean clothes and some fruit in there too.” 
They still don’t trust us. 
Jay pulled you along with him, the other five watching as the two of you entered the building. 
“What are you thinking?” Soobin asked Kai, who had his arms wrapped tightly across his chest, blue hair blowing in the wind as he narrowed his eyes at the building. 
“If she wasn’t bitten, then what could be so special that Jay protected her like that? Besides the obvious attraction, he feels. But something is off. The caption doesn't want just anybody, not anyone from this side of the country at least,” Kai took his chin between two fingers and looked up at the dark sky. Picturing the way your bandage was wrapped around your wrist, there was no way you weren’t bitten. It was wrapped in a way to hide what was there, not to cover up some wounds…unless, “She is immune.” 
Jay let you bathe first, him keeping his eye pointed out the window as he popped a grape into his mouth. He didn’t trust the five boys either, not when they stood in a circle in the same exact place, clearly discussing what to do about the two of them, “If you keep staring at them you’ll just give them more reasons to not trust us, we just need to get through the night.” 
Jay looks over at you, seeing the way you dangle your arms over the bathtub, resting your chin on white porcelain, “Neither I nor them trust each other and you’re worth a shit ton of money, I’ll keep him eye on them if I want to,” without another word, he looks back out the window. You sigh and resume your bath then get out and quickly change, letting Jay now soak in the tub. 
You fell asleep faster than you thought and it pissed Jay off. How could you sleep so easily? But the more he looked at your sleeping body, eyes darting to your bite mark, the wound no longer continued to bleed or be filled with pus but now red and irritated. The longer he looked, the more he relaxed, realizing you’ve been through enough shit. You deserved some actual rest. 
Jay couldn’t afford to rest though. He left the room, breaking the doorknob once the door was shut, securing a way no one else could get in to hurt you. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he left the building in search of food and other materials to replenish what you and he had used over the last two months. 
He hated being here. Jay spent enough time over the last couple of years smuggling shit in and out of this place. It’s the main reason why Soobin and his dogs don’t like him and his friends. One major rule of smuggling in this world is to stay out of other smugglers' zones. But hey, if the money was good, Jay and his team did it. 
Jay was barely able to walk away from a stall selling canned food when he ran into Yeonjun, “Was wondering if I’d run into you,” he smiled, folding his hands behind his back, “Should have known you’d be out restocking your supplies.” 
Jay just rolls his eyes, “What do you want? I have sleep to catch.” 
“Hmm,” Yeonjun hummed, following behind Jay, “I want to ask you again about your girl.” 
“She’s not my girl,” Jay hissed, “Just someone I am taking to—“
“I know she’s immune.” 
Jay turned on his heels quickly, pointing a finger into Yeonjun’s face, “Shut the fuck up! Keep your fucking mouth shut!” 
But he only smirked, “So our suspensions are true?” 
“No!” Jay scoffed, dropping his hand, “You can’t just throw around the word immune without it causing chaos, you know this, you dumbass.” 
Yeonjun shrugs, “You’re willing to turn your girlfriend into the capital so easily? When she has a gift everyone would kill to have? She isn’t safe out there.” 
Jay narrowed his eyes, trying to read Yeonjun’s face for any hint of what he was trying to pull. But then it clicked with him. Soobin is the one who usually is the head of the battle. The first to step up and say or do anything. Yeonjun is also attached to Soobin as his second. But the fact Yeonjun is here right now…without Soobin…Jay’s heart nearly stopped. He slowly backed away. They were planning something and Yeonjun was being used as a distraction. 
“You know the capital will kill her, Jay!” he chuckles, “They will kill her the moment you hand her over. Your precious love will die.” 
Jay stopped listening as he made a full sprint back to the room. 
Jay didn’t continue breathing until he stepped foot into the room, seeing you sleeping peacefully. 
He took a couple of deep breathes, placing a hand on the wall to steady himself, giving him only a few seconds of deep breathing before pushing off the wall and packing up both backpacks, “YN,” he calls to you, his heart rate increasing with each second longer you stayed here, “YN!!” 
You jolted awake, slowly lifting yourself from the bed and seeing Jay rushing around the room in a hurry, “What?” you barely were able to get the words out without a yawn creeping out afterward. 
“We need to go. Like now.” 
You didn’t like the desperation in his voice, and you sure didn’t like the way he was rushing around to gather all your things into the backpacks. Something was wrong and it made your stomach drop, “Why? What happened?” 
Jay told you about the encounter with Yeonjun, and how he thinks they are planning something, explaining how Soobin and his team work. You didn’t understand it. 
“How are you so sure they are even planning anything?” You asked, now following him around the room as he paced to gather everything, “They let us stay here?” 
Jay stopped pacing, his hands immediately grabbing your face, “They know you’re immune. And they are smugglers, YN. I know how they think. They are going to keep you here and probably sell you to the highest bidder, the thing those people would do to you…” Jay didn’t even want to think about what those nasty people would do. The worst thing is to use you as experiments to find a cure on their own without the capital which will result in killing you, or them using you as their own plaything, forcing you to produce offspring in hopes of more people being born with the immunity. Either way, he wasn’t going to let it happen. 
He couldn’t let them take you from him. Couldn’t let them harm you in any way. He was going crazy just thinking about it all. He stepped away from you, “Get your boots on and quickly.” 
You did as you were told, slipping your feet into the boots and taking your backpack from him as he walked to the door, peeking out the windows before waving you to follow him. Jay already secured an escape route. He’s slipped in and out of this zone enough times to know every escape route possible. 
He kept you tugged tightly to him as you both left the building, quickly slipping into the alleyway. To say you were scared was an understatement. You still didn’t fully understand what was going on, mostly on Jay’s side. He seemed so ready to hand you over for the money, what difference would it make if he just left you here? Why go through the trouble of getting you out of this place? 
“Jay,” you called for him, but he ignored you. Just gripping your arm tighter as he led you in and out and around different buildings and alleyways. Stopping anytime someone walked by or got too close, Jay held his breath every single time as if it would help hide the two of you. But before he knew it, you both were approaching the fence, seeing the hole he and his team has used to get in and out was not patched up, “Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. 
Jay ran his hands through his hair, then grabbed your arm again, pulling you down the fence line. Eyes searching for an opening. Every safe zone had one. A little door in the fence that would lead out in case of evacuation. You’d need a military card to get access for it to open, but Jay had ways to break it. 
You both finally reached that door, the keycard scanner blinking green, showing it was working. Jay dropped the backpack to the ground, pulling out some tools. 
“What are you doing??” You whispered, eyes darting to her surrounding area, “What if you set off an alarm like last time?” 
Jay chuckled, “I’ve done this before, the factory was rigged from the start.” It was the first time even talking about the factory. Jay used the screwdriver's flat end to pry open the lid, looking at the series of wires, “Time to get to work.” You watched as he cut wires and replaced them, the little flashing green light turning red, then flashing back to green and the door unlocked and slowly opened, “Magic.” 
You rolled your eyes, “We don’t have time for this.” 
Jay threw the tools back into the backpack, quickly standing up and reaching for your hand. The two of you were barely three steps out of the zone when five figures with tickets pointing directly at you two appeared. Jay flung you behind him, aiming his shotgun at Soobin. 
“Should have known you’d try to escape,” the blonde boy hissed, “Couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?” 
“I’m NOT letting you keep her here,” Jay barked back. 
Taehyun chuckled, “Why does it matter to you what we would do with her here? Don’t you only care about the money she’s worth?” 
“I don’t see four million dollars in your hands, Kang,” Jay snapped, eyes burning holes into Taehyun’s chest but kept his gun aimed at Soobin, “And since I don’t see the fucking money, we’re leaving.” 
“Just think what the capital would do,” Yeonjun said, “Far worse than her staying safe here.” 
Jay gritted his teeth, “You wouldn’t keep her safe. You’d use her!” 
The smile on Soobin’s face told him everything he needed to know. They were going to use you in any way possible and you weren’t going to survive it and if you did, you wouldn’t be the same. 
The five of them took one step closer and Jay felt like he was about to combust, “Take one more fucking step and I’ll shoot!” He yelled, darting the barrel at each of them. 
“It’s five against one,” Kai teased, taking another few steps forward, “What the fuck are you going—“ 
One moment Kai was standing, the next he was on the ground, blood pooling from his thigh. His hands were quickly covered in his own blood as he put pressure on the wound, his blue hair sticking to his face from the sweat he had just broken out in. Teeth gritting and eyes that could kill were staring right back at Jay. 
Kai’s four friends rushed to him, each of them now looking at Jay as well, “I fucking told you to not take another step. I’ll kill you all if you so much as lay a finger or come near her!!” 
Soobin’s smile was gone and replaced with pure rage, “Get the fuck out of my safe zone before I blow your brains out and feed you to the zombies out there.” 
You locked your jaw, gripping the barrel of Jay’s gun and forcing him to drop it, “Let’s fucking go!!” You snapped at him, fingers gripping the sleeve of his shirt, and pulling him away. 
“You’re going to regret your choices, Jongseong Park!” Huening Kai yelled, his voice echoing into the woods, “ROT IN FUCKING HELL!!” 
Jay stopped listening as he was now the one gripping your waist and leading you into the dark dangerous woods, the sounds of Kai’s screams and yelps becoming a distant noise. 
Once Jay felt like it was safer, he removed his hand from your waist, and quickly walked ahead of you, “What the fuck was that, Jay?” You asked harshly, moving your legs to keep up at his pace. 
“I told them to not take another step, and he did. He’ll suffer for his actions.” Jay didn’t know what you wanted to tell you, he did what he had to to get you out of there and he didn’t care if you agreed or not. 
“You could have killed him!!” Jay just shrugs and keeps on walking. You clenched your fists at your side, digging your fingers into the fabric of your jeans. 
“This is life as a smuggler,” Jay finally said after a few moments of silence, “You sometimes have to pull the trigger to survive.”
“We could have just run out!!” 
“No,” he hissed, “They wouldn’t have allowed that! I did what I had to!” 
“And it was wrong!” 
Jay stopped to turn and face you, the clear desperation and anger still on his face, “I don’t regret doing what needed to be done in order to protect you. I wasn’t going to let those assholes hurt you.” 
You tried to read his face and look for any signs of the truth. There was more to this than him just protecting you for the money. You were filled with more confusion as you looked at him, trying to read his cold eyes, but still found nothing. Jay quickly turned away from you and continued walking. You tried multiple more times to get him to explain his actions, but he kept ignoring you. And you eventually gave up for the night. 
To say over the next few days you’ve wanted nothing more than to bash Jay’s skull into the next tree you see would be an understatement. His attitude towards you got worse. He started to ignore you even more and only spoke to you to ask and make sure you were okay, if you were hungry, tired, or needed any rest. Outside of that? It’s like you didn’t exist. 
You tried asking a few times about his actions at the previous safe zone, to see what even prompted him to make such a choice when you could have just run out. The gate was already open, so shooting Kai wasn’t needed to survive. There could have been another way. 
Jay tried to fight off every feeling he felt. Specifically towards you and the other five back at the zone. Half of him wanted to go back and kill them all for so much thinking about using you, the other half of him wished he didn’t have to pull that trigger. He struggled to understand his feelings for you, the protectiveness he felt, the need to hold you close to him and keep you in his eyesight the entire time, the want to kiss you again, to feel your warmth. Everything mixed so deeply within him and confused him. Where did the lines blur? And where did they not? Is he wanting to protect you for that fat paycheck he’ll receive? Or is it because he actually wants to protect you? Does he want to keep you close because he wants to close or because to make sure you’re safe and unharmed once you’re handed off to the capital? Does he want to kiss you again because he hasn’t felt that sort of affection in a while, or because he actually wants to? He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Or maybe he just wanted to shove the feelings away. 
Jay was still deep in thought when something wet landed on his face. He stopped walking to glance up at the sky. You also looked up, a sigh leaving his lips, “Looks like it’s fixing to downpour.” 
“We need to get somewhere safe,” you said, looking back at the man in front of you, still trying to read his face. 
Jay just nods, then looks at the surrounding area, “There should be a cave around here. Let's go.” 
You wanted to ask him how he just knows that there is a cave nearby. It makes you question how many smuggling missions he’s gone on. How many times he risked his life out there time and time again? From his attitude and cold demeanor, it’s obvious he’s done this more times than he probably wanted to even count. 
You followed him nonetheless, followed alongside a mountain that eventually a tall chain-linked fence got attached to, leading to a gate that was already opened with vines and grass growing around it. 
“Was this a safe zone?” you asked, “it looks abandoned.” 
“Because it is,” Jay sighs, “It was a smaller one, could only fit a couple hundred. It’s a shame what happened to it.” 
You followed him past the gate and slowly to the hole in the mountain where a massive steel door stood at the entrance of the cave, “What happened?” 
There was a panel on the wall beside the door, showing that it needed a code for the door to open. You were about to lose hope, thinking you’d have to find another place, but Jay reached his hand to the panel, pressing 0428, and the door slowly opened. 
“How do you know the code?” 
“Used to make smuggling runs here when it was still an active zone,” he doesn’t so much even glance at you as he walks inside, “The people who aren’t a part of zones, who are against the government and zones altogether, a band of them came through here, tearing the place apart and left no survivors.” 
Your eyes dropped to the cave floor, “How could humans do such a thing.”
Jay sighs, “I wish I knew. I’m not any better, being a smuggler and doing my fair share of…anyways, what happened to these people, to this zone, it haunted other smaller zones, forcing them to leave and join the bigger ones or flee to the capital.” 
You watched as the cave floor turned from rough stone to polished stone, your eyes lifting back up to take in your sleeping stop for the night. Jay hovered to the right of the wall, finding the power box and flipping the switch. Small lanterns covered the walls and ceiling. Multiple areas of the cave held beds lined to the wall along with showers, tubs, toilets, and kitchen appliances. There were a few areas that were for the children, toys lying on the floor and tables, and some of the beds. 
Children were murdered here. 
You grasped your hand over your chest, feeling how your heart clenched at the sight. 
Jay turns back to look at you, his cold eyes softening, “It was terrible. Heeseung and I got here just in time to see the bandits leave. It took everything for us not to fight them ourselves,” the look in your eyes told him enough how badly this place affected you already.
You took more glances around, “Why does it not look like—“
“Like it was torn apart?” Jay finished for you, dropping his backpack to the floor in front of one of the beds lined to the wall and setting his weapons onto the bed, “Because my team came here and cleaned it up, hoping someday it can be lived in again. We come back every so often to make sure everything is fine and clean.” 
You watched as he sat on the bed, dropping his face into his palms. The rain finally touched down and thunder sounded, the lanterns flickering softly. Jay sighs and quickly stands back up, digging through a drawer to light a couple of candles in case the power does indeed go out. You continued to watch his every move. How can this person be so confusing? So cold and so selfless and full of love all at the same time. You could see it in his eyes how it hurt talking about what happened here. Jay was barely able to sit back down on the bed before you started talking. 
“Why did you shoot Kai?” 
Jay rolled his eyes, “Can you shut up about it? There’s that cold again. 
You shook your head, “No! I need to understand!” 
“What is there to understand, YN? I warned them what would happen if they took a step closer, and look what happened.” Pure rage filled his eyes once again, his jaw locking tight. 
“There had to have been another way! We could have just left!” You took a deep breath, clenching your fists, “You could have killed them!” 
Jay scoffed with a smirk, shaking his head, “I could have, should have.” 
Now you were pissed off, “Why? Huh? Explain that to me. I am NOT worth killing over!” 
Jay shot to his feet, pointing a finger at you, “Don’t you fucking say that! You’re worth—“
“Four million dollars, I fucking get it, Jay. All I am worth is that four million,” he swallowed, not saying a word and he flexed his fists at his sides. It was your turn to scoff and smirk, “Not worth anything more than just to get your damned money.” 
“STOP talking like that,” he snapped. 
“Why should I?” You scoff again, “You’ve done nothing—NOTHING—but tell me and everyone else how much money I am worth. All you fucking care about is the mon—“ 
Jay couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t think straight as his feet dashed to you, hands cupping your face and lips attaching to yours, slamming his body into yours with such force that it startled you. His lips moved quickly against yours, brows furrowing and eyes closed tightly as he was trying his damndest to slow his heart rate, to not take out every emotion he had into kissing you, but his body failed him as he stayed connected to you, your hands slowly reaching up to touch his wrists, and it was enough to send him over the edge. 
“You’re worth so, so, so much more,” he said between kisses, his hands dropping to your waist, “I can’t hold myself back when it comes to you, I want you near me all the time. It’s taken everything in me to not jump your bones every second of every single day.” 
You leaned more into him, accepting him and his truth that he was finally spilling to you after so long. 
“I don’t give a fucking shit about that money, the capital can fucking keep it. You’re worth everything to me and I am so fucking crazy about you.” Jay slid his mouth from yours and down to your neck, leaving small bites as he trailed down to your shoulder, his hands now under your shirt and quickly lifting it up and over your head. Your hands rushed to pull his shirt from him, needing to feel him skin-to-skin. 
You barely had his shirt on the floor when his chest connected to yours and lips back on yours, “I can’t get enough of you,” he whispers, “I can’t stop feeling for you. I want you. All of you. Please give yourself to me.” 
Jay never was able to call someone his own. He’s had girlfriends and flings, yeah, but never someone that was actually his. Someone he could protect and love with every ounce he had. And it took kissing you in that factory for everything to make sense. He met you for a reason, whether that was some wack chance of fate or luck. He was meant to go through the hell he did to find you. And he wasn’t going to let you go now. 
“I’m yours,” you whispered back, “I am all yours.” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t have feelings for him. That you longed to feel him kiss you again, to touch you, hold you, and everything in between. He’s driven you crazy since day one, you should have known how hard you would have fallen. 
Jay deepened the kiss even more, slowly pulling you back with him until reaching one of the beds against the wall, one hand reaching back up to your neck, then the other wrapping behind your back as he swiftly turned you around and laid you on your back, “Say it again,” he asked, his fingers tracing down your shoulders, pulling the straps of your bra down then sliding his hands underneath to unclasp it and toss it off to the floor, “say it again please.” 
You swallowed, staring up into his eyes. And for the first time, you were able to finally read him. He wanted you in every way, “I’m yours.” 
He slides his hands down to your jeans, unbuttoning them and looping his fingers between the fabric of both your jeans and panties and your skin and pulling them down, “Again.” 
You bit your button lip and smirked up at him, “Should I?” 
Jay stood on his knees, slowly unbuttoning and unzipping his pants, “If you want this dick, I suggest you do.” 
You watch him with lust in your eyes as he slides out of his pants and boxers, his hand wrapping around his cock as he leaned back to hover over you, pumping himself slowly, “I said again.” 
“I am yours.” 
Jay tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, hands going to your thighs and lifting them up, wrapping them around his waist and lining his cock up with your cunt. 
“You’re mine?” he breathes. 
“Yours.” 
Jay slides his hands up your body, clasping his fingers around yours tightly, pushing his hips forward until his cock is buried deep within you, “Mine, all mine,” he whispers into your ear, slowly sliding out and pushing back in. 
His lips kissed down to your neck as he picked up his pace, using your hands pressed into the mattress as his leverage to kiss your cervix with the tip of his dick, grinding into you hard. Your moans sent chills down his spine, edging him to fuck into you faster. God, you felt so good. He only dreamed what your pussy would feel like wrapped around him. It was as if your pussy was made for him, made to fit and take his cock so fucking good. His. All his. 
“Jay,” you moaned out his name, your hands now tangled in his dyed hair as one of his hands grasped your thigh, and the other on your face, “Are you mine, too?” 
“Oh, baby,” he groans into your neck, “I’ve been yours.” 
Thunder crashed outside, flickering the lights a couple of times before shutting them off completely. The candles are the only source of light. But it couldn’t have been more perfect. Yours and Jay’s moans mixed with the sound of the rain. His cock works against your sweet spot and nails dig into the plush of your thighs. He was going dizzy at the feeling of you, of the emotions you’ve made him feel. Your sex felt like heaven, you felt like heaven in this hell. 
“I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” he kisses your neck, “Won’t let anyone touch you,” kisses your jawline, “I’d kill for you,” finally kissing your lips, “You’re mine. All mine.” 
You kissed him back harder, pulling him as close as possible to you as you reached your climax, squeezing your legs tighter around his waist. 
“Fuck,” he hisses, “I’m gonna cum too,” he pumped into you faster, “call me yours, say my name, f-fuck, please say I’m yours.” 
You tightened your legs around him, kissing from his lips to his ear, “Jay, you’re mine. Mine, mine, mine.” 
He clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut as he cums, “Shit, baby,” he slowly lays on top of you gently, breathing in your scent, and wraps his arms underneath you to hold you against him. He took a couple of deep breaths and chuckled, “I am so glad you stole our drugs that day.” 
you lay in his arms as he traced his fingers up and down your bare back, the rain still crashing down to the earth, it being the only sound you could hear besides the beating of Jay’s heart in your ear from laying against his chest. 
Jay leaned against the wall the bed connected to, his eyes scanning the empty safe zone, trying to remember how much life was once held here. How life sits here now. Jay let his brain wonder about the different possibilities and outcomes of this zone, debating what to do and how to do it. His train of thought derailed when you shifted yourself up further, laying your head into his neck, “I thought you were asleep?” 
You gently shook your head, “I don’t want to sleep and miss out on this moment.” 
Jay chuckled and leaned his head against the top of yours, “You need some rest, I’m here and won’t leave you.” 
“That’s not what I’m worried about, I just want to savor the moment for when you go back to being cold towards me once we leave here.” 
Jay chuckles again, “Baby, I won’t. I was cold to keep the lines from blurring and my heart from feeling, but look how that turned out?” 
You giggled when he slid his hands under the blanket you two shared and squeezed the fat of your ass, “Didn’t think you ever felt anything for me besides the money, you confused the hell out of me, Jay.” 
He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I know, I am sorry.” You shivered, so he pulled the blanket up higher on your naked body, running his hands up and down your back to help warm you. 
Even though you’ve spent enough time with this man to know how he is, you still don’t know a lot about him besides the things he’s willingly shared with you. And since curiosity consumed you, mostly now that he’s accepted his feelings for you, maybe he’ll be more inclined to talk. Here goes nothing, “What did you do before the outbreak?” you softly asked while still treading on eggshells, “How was life for you before it?” 
Jay takes a deep inhale, holding his breath for a couple of seconds before letting it out and wrapping his arms tighter around you, “Heeseung and I were best friends before all this. Grew up together actually. His family lived across the street from mine, and being the only child, I attached myself to Heeseung fairly quickly.” 
You could see it. With how Heeseung and Jay relied on each other back in their home zone and even when they cornered you when you stole the drugs they were supposed to smuggle, the two of them stuck to each other. 
“He became like my older brother, and I am a younger one for him. When the outbreak first happened, Heeseung and I…” he took another deep breath in, and you felt how tense his body became under you. So you reached a hand up to his chest, feeling that tension loosen, “We were fucking around with a few other kids in our town, shooting hoops at the court while passing a blunt between each of us. I was actually supposed to be grounded, I smart-mouthed off to my parents. I stuck out my bedroom window and jumped into Heeseung’s car and we went off to the basketball court. We were there for roughly thirty minutes before the first bomb dropped to take out the infected.” 
You remembered the bombs very well. Remembered the sirens going off. People were going crazy to try and leave town to escape it. Only very few were lucky to get out. And since the two of you were lying here together, it was obvious you two were part of the lucky ones. 
Jay continued, “Heeseung and I never ran back home so fast, only to see our street was completely…gone. We lost our families, and if we didn’t sneak out…we wouldn’t be here right now. The only thing that kept me alive to this very day was Heeseung. If I didn’t have him…” 
“Jay,” you whispered, lifting yourself up to press the side of your face to his, “you have him, don’t think about what could have happened. You have him, and always will.” 
He took a couple of deep breaths, leaning more into you, “I know. I’m lucky to have him as a brother. Same to Jake and Sunghoon.”
“How did you meet those two?” 
Jay laughed, “We found them in an abandoned grocery store.” 
You tried to not giggle, but let it out anyway, “Are you serious?” 
“I am being so deadass,” he laughed more with you, you falling in love with how he smiles and the sound of his laugh. This Jay right here, this was his true self, “It was roughly about four months after the outbreak, so still before the safe zones. Heeseung and I were running low on food and we stumbled into a grocery store praying for food but finding Jake and Sunghoon with every food item possible shoved into the back corner of one of the offices hoarding it all for themselves.”
You just nodded, “Yeah from the small amount I know about them, that sounds about right.” 
Jay agrees, “It was a sight to see that’s for sure. It took them everything to not kill us. They were held up there for a couple of weeks before we found them. But eventually, we got them to share their food and they just…followed us out of the grocery store when we left a day later. The four of us have been together since then.” 
“Sounds like you guys found each other at the right times. They say you always find the people you need for your life at the right time regardless of the situation.” You slid back down, lying your head back on his neck, “Just like how you found me.”
Jay squeezed you tightly, “I have to agree with that statement. It’s like I am your god or something.” 
You playfully slapped his bicep, “Oh shut up! You needed me just as much as I needed you.” 
“I did, I needed you so bad and it took me meeting you to realize it.” Jay now slid down the bed, lying his head on the pillow and pulling you fully against him, resting his forehead against yours, “The four of us traveled for days to get to the safe zone we are at now. It was still newly built and just redeemed safe to let people in. Been there since, obviously, and eventually, we are where we are now. Being smugglers to keep our place and food in our bellies.” 
You looked into his eyes, seeing all the hurt and pain he’s been through and even put himself through to continue to survive. To keep breathing. Jay kept fighting to stay alive for his brothers and kept going for someday finding more of a reason to keep his heart beating. He found that reason the moment he saw you. Even though you were pointing a gun to his head. 
“You’ve fought long enough, Jay,” you whisper, brushing your lips against his, “Please take the money when you hand me over.” 
Jay scoffs, “YN—“
“No,” you interrupted, “Take it. It would help you and the others. You all don’t need to fight anymore.” 
Jay just looks back at you, wondering how the fuck could he just take that money and run. To leave you with the capital. He couldn’t do it. He won’t do it. 
“I’ll find a way to get the money and bring you back home,” it sunk your heart hearing him call his safe zone your home. You had a home again. With him, “That way we can be set and I don’t have to leave you.” 
You softly kissed him. Moving your lips so gently against his. His hands moved from your back to your waist and pressed your body against his. 
Jay was home. Jay IS home. And you’d take up his mantle of fighting to protect him now. To keep him safe. Jay deserves it more than anything. 
To both your and Jay’s surprise, the next three-month journey was actually really smooth. Jay didn’t know if he should be worried or relieved that everything had gone smoothly. He’s tried to keep a positive mind, to push out that smuggler mindset he’s been in for years, wanting to be a better man for you. But Jay knew even if he wanted to drop that life, he was going to have to keep up that fighter persona. That protectiveness. There’s no doubt Soobin and his dogs already ran their mouths about you being immune, spreading the word to anyone and everyone they could. Probably more than likely putting a bounty over Jay’s head because of him shooting Kai. Jay had to start thinking more clearly about his future, about yours, if he wanted to keep the both of you alive for that future. Because he can’t live without you now, and he refuses to let anyone take you from him. 
You walked ahead of him, your palms facing outwards, brushing your fingers over the flowers and grass that grew tall, loving the way it tickled your hands. To say you’re happier than before would be an understatement. Jay finally confessing his deep feelings flipped a switch within you, like you have something more to live for besides just simply surviving for your fallen friends. At the start of this journey, you refused to let the capital take you, to use you as a curse for everyone else. But after meeting and falling in love with Jay…knowing that if he somehow gets bitten one of these days…the cure that would come from you would save him. You didn’t care about saving everyone else, just as long as you could save him, that’s all that mattered. 
You glanced up ahead, and the building you assumed was the capital, came into view. It looked like an old hospital. Overgrown with vines and weeds. If you didn’t know what to look for, you would have assumed this was just like any other normal old abandoned building like the rest of the world. But Jay gave you details on what to look for. 
“Looks like we finally made it,” You said, turning to look at Jay. He looks at you, then at the building, giving a nod. You started to shake, the fear of going inside taking over. You didn’t know what to expect. How will they treat you? Would it be filled with old doctors or politicians who think they know what is best for the world? Many more questions rolled through you and it took Jay taking your hand into his for your train to derail. 
“It’s going to be okay, I won’t let them hurt you, I promise,” And Jay meant it. He will stand beside you every step of the way. Letting the capital take what was needed then getting the hell out of there and back home. 
Jay leads you to the entrance, staring up at the camera that hangs from the ceiling above the door. Jay waved a hand at the camera, “Hello?? How do you expect to get people in and out if there’s no way to fucking knock??” Glad to see Jay didn’t completely go soft on you. You giggled at his straightforwardness, squeezing his hand. 
The door sounded with a click and opened. Jay squeezed your hand back before taking a step in, leading you in behind him. The entrance was dimly lit halfway, completely colored gray with hospital signs hanging to the walls. If you didn’t know any better, you would have figured this place was a disaster waiting to happen, that no soul would be living here. But that changed once the entrance expanded out into what looked to be the lobby of the hospital. The gray turned to white and bright lights filled the room. You didn’t have time to process the new brightness when seven men appeared in front of you and Jay. Not like magic or anything, your eyes just couldn’t adjust to the bright lights in time to see them approach. 
Jay gave each of them a nod, “Nice to see you again, Shotaro, Sungchan, Wonbin, Sohee, Seunghan, Eunseok, and Anton. Been awhile.” 
You followed Jay’s head movement to each of the seven of them, taking in their names and faces before looking over at Jay confused for a solid few seconds before remembering that Jay has been to the capital a few times in his life, of course he knew the people here. 
“Pleasure to see you, as always,” Shotaro said to him, giving a nod back, “See the trip here didn’t kill you.” 
Jay just chuckles, releasing his hand from yours, “It’s going to take a lot more than some zombies to take me down.” Jay knew joking with these people would be the best way to fit in and get things done. Shotaro and his crew were different from Soobin and his. Two different types of personalities here. 
“I am assuming this is the immune one?” Sungchan asked, tilting his head. His eyes scan your body up and down then stop at the bite mark on your wrist. You ditched the wrap and long-sleeve shirts back at the cave zone, the summer weather being too hot to keep up with it. Your bite was pretty much healed, no longer infected, and just looked like a normal wound in healing. 
“I have a name,” you growled at him, “I’m not just some “immune one” or whatever.”
All seven of them smirked at you, making you cling to Jay’s arm, “Feisty one, isn’t she?” Wonbin chuckled with a raise of his brow, “You sure know how to pick’em, Jay.” 
Jay just tried to give them his best smile, “This is YN. And yes she’s the one Jungkook called and talked to Namjoon about.” 
Namjoon?
“Joon is busy in a meeting,” Sohee sighs, “He told us to apologize on his behalf and welcome you into the capital.” 
Seunghan added, “He had to step in the moment you walked up to the door. He truly wants to meet you two here.” 
“We were expecting seven more of you though…” Shotaro said with his eyes scanning the two of you, “Where are your other six?” 
Jay shrugs, “They had other important matters to take care of, so I volunteered to make the trip myself.” 
“Ahhh,” Eunseok cooed, “I sometimes forget the seven of you are the best smugglers down in the southwest.” 
“Best of the best,” Jay awkwardly smiled, wanting to get this small talk over with, “Are we going to stand and wait for Namjoon to finish his meeting or???” 
Shotaro bowed a bit, “My apologies, you two must be exhausted from your long trip,” He stood back upright, “Anton, please take our friends to their rooms.” 
“We’ll share one, thanks for the thought though,” Jay was quick to say. 
Shotaro just looked back and forth between the two of you, and then the realization hit, “Ahh! You two are a pair. That’s…interesting considering Jay was a lone wolf when it came to mating.”
Jay just rolls his eyes at the comment, “People can change. You’d know if you left the capital more.” 
Shotaro just keeps his wide smile on display, “Anton.” 
Anton nods, waving the two of you towards him, “We saved the best rooms possible for you,” Jay leads first, dragging you close behind him, “We’ve also given you badges with access to every floor and room in the building. Given as a thanks for your sacrifice, YN. You’re doing the world a massive favor by coming here.” You just nod, confident that you’re only doing this for Jay to protect him, “We have a meeting set up for you to keep with one of the doctors later this evening, to kinda help ease your mind about all this.” 
You didn’t care and stopped listening to Anton explain everything. All you cared about was getting to the room to shower off the outside smell, dirt, and grime. To get in fresh clothing and get a much-needed nap before this place runs you left and right with tests. 
Anton finally let you into the room, handing off the badges to Jay, and with a nod, he left, closing the door behind him. The room was obviously small, being that it was an old hospital room. But it was still cozy, very bedroom-like. Paintings hung on the walls along with a medium-sized dresser with a mirror atop sat in the middle with the queen-sized bed right beside it and the bathroom sitting off to the left of the room. You made your way to the dresser, opening the first drawer to see plenty of clean undergarments for all genders, the second drawer was sleepwear, and the third and fourth drawer was filled with normal everyday shirts and jeans. You pulled pieces of clothing from each drawer and rushed to the entrance of the bathroom but stopped. 
“Can I shower first?” you asked, turning to look at Jay who was sitting at the edge of the bed, holding an envelope, “Jay? What’s that?” 
He looks up at you, “It was slipped under the door after we walked in. It’s the money they owe me for bringing you here.” 
You swallowed, watching as he opened the envelope and pulled out the cash. Jay felt like his heart nearly stopped at the amount of money he held in his hands, fingers slipping through each bill to make sure it was real and the actual amount they said they would give. And sure enough, it was. 
Jay looked at the cash and slowly put it back in the envelope. You could see the gears turning, “Don’t you even dare think about not taking it.” 
He looks at you, was he that obvious? “YN, baby, I can’t take it.” 
You quickly rushed to him, grabbing the envelope and shoving it deep into his backpack, “You came all this way for this, don’t back out of it now.” 
Jay stood to his feet and pulled you to him, “I don’t care about the money! I’ve told you before that you’re worth so much more than money.” 
You cupped his face, “You and the six back at home need this money, think about the life you can give them once we go back. Please don’t give it up.” Jay knew you were right. He made this trip in the first place all for his brothers and the money that would help give them a better life. So he nods, giving you a soft smile and picking you up into his arms, carrying you to the bathroom. 
“We’re both stinky, let’s wash off, ya?” He said, placing kisses all over your face and kicking the bathroom door shut. 
The rest of your day was filled with following around one of the seven boys to multiple different stops with Jay close on your heels. The first stop was the cafeteria for lunch, eating the best chicken sandwich you think you ever had. The second stop was to one of the labs for some doctors to draw your blood and give you some juice and five minutes of sitting before sending you on the way. The third stop was the meeting with the doctor who explained the procedure of the blood being drawn from the first stop and how taking from the bone marrow during the procedure and then talking about somehow mixing other things to create the cure? You were no scientist nor a doctor and you couldn’t remember how they find cures in all the horror and survival movies you’ve seen in your life to even get close to knowing how it would work. Jay looked just as confused as you did. At least you all were on the same page. Somewhat. The fourth stop was back at the room, where you and Jay cuddled and took a good hour nap before Sungchan knocked on the door saying it was time for dinner. 
You two ate with the seven boys, them explaining how Namjoon was once again tied up and couldn’t make it to the meal to greet us. Jay just waved it off. He didn’t care about any more meetings, he just wanted to eat and go back to the room. The day was tiring, the whole trip was tiring. Tomorrow would more than likely be another busy day and all you wanted to do was change into your pajamas and hit the sack. The seven of the boys talked a lot, made a lot of jokes, and continuously teased Jay for being in a relationship as if it was such a hard thing for their minds to process. You tried to laugh at everything, to understand the jokes. You weren’t sure if it was the nerves or your exhaustion making it hard to play along. Thankfully dinner finally ended and you found yourself back in the comfort of your temporary room. 
“There’s only silk lace gowns in here?” You sigh, digging through the whole drawer to find a pair of pajama pants and a shirt, “Why are there ONLY silk lace gowns???” 
Jay peeked over your shoulder, his hands reaching around you to pull an emerald green gown out of the drawer, “I mean this is the capital, everything here is probably fancy in some form.” 
You take the gown from his hands with a sigh, “It’ll have to do I suppose.” Jay just gives you a small smile and nods as he backs away and sits on the bed, untying the laces to his boots. 
You glanced back at the silk gown on your hands and up to Jay. Maybe you were reading a bit into it, but why did he choose this color? Out of all the pretty colors in that drawer, his eyes went to this one. You tried to push down the thoughts, remembering the time back at the safe zone when he said your naked body was just skin. How he didn’t have time to deal with these types of things. But he was also in a relationship with you now? The two of you never discussed what you were after sex that one night. He’s made love to you multiple times since then but still never once said what you both were. Maybe he was just bullshitting when he saw you naked the very first time, but then again he didn’t see you in that light before. Maybe again you were just overthinking it. He’s never seen you in such clothing, so maybe that’s why he chose this color, maybe he wanted to see you in it. 
You decided to stop thinking too much about it and slowly stripped out of your clothes, dropping them down to the floor with a thud, causing Jay’s eyes to lift up to you as he started on his second boot. You kept eye contact with him as you slid the straps of your bra down your shoulders and unclasped the back, holding the bra in place on your breast as you pulled your arms through the loops. Jay’s eyes left yours and went to your breasts, watching as you dropped the bra to the floor. His body tensed. You had him wrapped around your finger. His eyes shot back up to yours, his face still so calm and collected. You finally pulled the laced emerald silk gown over your head and onto your body, fitting strangely well to your frame and tight in the right places. 
You slowly crawled into the bed and laid down, his body shifted to face you as you got comfortable on the bed. Jay was losing his mind and was fighting his demons to keep from jumping you and ripping that pretty little gown off your body. His mind wanders to all the things he wants to do, where he wants his hands, and where he wants his mouth. He stood from the bed, sliding his feet out of his boots, and pulling his shirt from his body. You bit your lip at the sight of his torso, how his tan muscular skin moved as he reached for the button on his jeans, the tint in his pants was enough to tell you that you did affect him. That this color was chosen on purpose. 
Jay dropped the jeans to the floor then crawled onto the bed and hovered over you, “You look way too damn good in green, you should wear it more often, baby,” all you could do was nod and rub your thighs together. Jay glanced down at your legs, a smirk falling to his lips, “Want me so bad you can’t form a sentence?” 
“Jay,” you whispered, “Please.” 
He bent down and kissed you, his right hand already touching the ends of the gown, “You’re so sexy,” he breathed between kisses, “You know that?” You didn’t have time to respond as his lips left yours to trail down your neck and then to your shoulder, biting softly at your skin, loving the way you squirmed underneath him. His hand was now under the gown, slowly riding up your thigh. His moved down lower, leaving opened-mouth kisses down to your collarbone, between your breasts, and down your stomach, both his hands were now under the gown and sliding up and up, bunching the gown at your waist, “I’m craving dessert, and you look just like something I want to eat.” 
You gasp at his words, feeling your slick pool in your panties. Jay slid down to your heat, spreading your legs apart, clicking his tongue at the wet spot, “Already so wet for me? I haven’t even touched you yet.” It was driving him crazy seeing you already soaked for him. How much more perfect could you get?? He rubs his knuckle against your folds, pushing the lips apart as he digs his knuckle further in, “So wet for me, baby,” he coos, licking at his bottom lip. Jay didn’t think he could wait much longer, he needed your taste in his mouth. To devour you. To make you cum against his tongue. God, it’s all he wanted at this moment. Jay looped his fingers at the hems of your panties and you lifted your hips up as he slid them down and threw them to the floor to be completely forgotten about. 
Jay lifted your legs onto his shoulders as he settled back between your legs, using his index and ring fingers to spread your cunts lips, “fuccckk,” he groaned, loving how some of your slick was slowly dripping out of your cunt. Your hands flew to his hair when you felt his tongue press flat to your heat, licking up and stopping at your clit and wrapping his lips and tongue around the sensitive bud. 
“Shit, Jay!” you moaned, gripping his hair tight between your fingers. His hum of pleasure vibrated against you, making your toes curl into the sheets. With his other hand, he slid two fingers into your hole, pumping in and out of you slowly. Jay could get lost in your pussy, could stay here for hours if he didn’t need oxygen to continue breathing, licking up every ounce of your juices you could offer to him. You clenched around his fingers and gripped his hair even tighter, letting out soft moans at the feeling of him on your clit and cunt. 
“Be louder, baby, I want to hear you,” he breathes, taking a few deep breaths in before attaching himself back to your clit, sucking on it softly and pushing his fingers in and out faster, keeping your lips spread with his other fingers. You were getting dizzy at the sensation, brain clouding and his fingers and lips being the only thing you could focus on as you chanted out his name over and over. It was magic to his ears, truly. The best sound he’s ever heard next to your normal voice. 
He detached from your clit and replaced his fingers in your hole with his tongue, reaching so far into you that his nose was now rubbing your clit along with his middle finger. The knot of your climax was about to snap. You tried to hold on for as long as you could, waiting to savor this feeling but also wanting the sweet release it would give you. Jay wasn’t giving you much of a choice, not with how he worked his tongue in your cunt and his finger on your clit. His whole job here was making you cum on his tongue, and he wasn’t going to stop until he got what he desired. So you gave in, letting the knot snap in two and your body shuddered. Jay moaned against your cunt, licking up every last drop of your cum with his tongue, “Fuck you taste so good.” 
He left soft kisses on your heat and both your inner thighs before hovering back over you completely, “You’re such a good girl for me, my sweet, continue being good and take this cock, ya?” you quickly nodded, reaching for his boxers to slide them off him. He chuckled as he helped you remove the last bit of his clothing, “impatient are we?” 
“Jay, just please fuck me already, I need you.” 
He clicks his tongue, smirking at you, “Gotta give the lady what she wants, right?” 
Not another word was said as he slides into you, fucking you already so hard and fast it made your overstimulation way worse. But it was so—so—good. He kisses you, forcing his tongue down your throat, getting a taste of yourself as you sucked on his tongue, wrapping your muscle around him in a perfect dance. Jay wrapped your legs around him and pinned your hands above your head, squeezing them tightly as he continued to rock his hips against yours, kissing down from your lips to your ear, “You’re stuck with me, understand?” he breathes, his breath sending chills down your body, “I love you, YN. I am so in love with you.” 
Tears filled your eyes as you wrapped your legs and released your hands from his and wrapped your arms tightly around him, squeezing him so tight against your body, wanting to feel every inch of him against you, “I love you too. Oh god, I love you too.” 
Jay moved faster, “Say it again, tell me you love me again.” 
You did, you chanted how much you loved him over and over until he was spilling his seed deep within you. So out of breath but continued to kiss all over your face and slowly rock his hips against yours to chase out his high. If this is what it felt like to be in love with Jay and be loved by him, you didn’t need any other emotion ever again. 
Jay rolled over, stretching his arm out on your side of the bed, surprise took him when he didn’t feel you there, running his hand up and down the spot you should be in. He fluttered his eyes open, the early morning sunlight shining against the paintings on the wall and the gray wallpaper. Jay lifted himself on his forearms and elbows, the cool air sending chills down his bare back as the blanket slid down to his waist. He looked at the spot you slept in, tracing his hand back over it and realizing the sheets were cold. You’ve been gone for a while. 
“YN?” Jay calls, thinking maybe you were in the bathroom, seeing that the door was closed, “Baby?” 
No answer. Jay lets out an uneasy sigh, clearly not liking the silence of the room. He sits up and pushes himself to the edge of the bed, pulling his boxers off from the floor and stepping into them, and snapping them at his hips, “Baby?” He tried calling again, walking to the bathroom door and carefully knocking, “YN, this isn’t funny.” Jay quickly opened the door, seeing the bathroom was empty. 
Panic started to settle in. 
Jay tried to keep calm, hoping you were just at the other labs the doctors and other officials of the capital have said. But all the hope was gone when Jay turned around, barely catching his naked top half in the mirror, seeing the red and irritated skin at the edge of his back right under the shoulder, the small puncture wound still clear and visible. He was drugged. And you were taken. 
Jay quickly rushed back into the room, pulling his clothes onto his body and picking up his backpack from the floor, noticing yours was still sitting in the same spot. Jay felt the panic deep in his core. You wouldn’t have just walked out of the room without telling him or bringing him with you. Jay’s suspicions only got confirmed after seeing the weapons from your and his backpack was missing. 
“Shit,” he mumbles, looking in the corner to see his shotgun was also missing from where he placed it against the wall. Jay dumped out everything from the backpacks and drawers, trying to find any weapon possible that they might have overlooked. But everything was gone. The only thing he found was the snacks and other foods and water the two of you had been carrying the whole trip and the white envelope with the money in it. Jay wanted to tear the money into pieces, to burn this whole place down from them taking you from him. He was going crazy and needed to find you, and fast. He pulled everything back into the backpack, combining your stuff with his. Jay took one last look at the envelope and then shoved it into the backpack. 
It was one problem after the other when he tried to walk out of the room to find the door was locked from the outside, “FUCK!” he screamed, taking multiple steps back and rushing to the door, connecting his shoulder to the wood. Step back, ram the door, step back, ram the door. repeat. repeat. repeat. Jay shook out his hands and arms, giving it one last final shove and the door pushed open, the locks and doorknobs falling to the floor. 
The hallway was dark except for the sunlight peeking through the windows. Not a damn soul was around. It was so silent you could probably hear the tectonic plates shifting within the earth. Jay treaded lightly, locking his jaw and clenching his fists as he slowly walked down the hall. This hospital was so full of life just yesterday, and now it’s like everyone is gone. This place once again looked abandoned before the capital officials took over. Jay figured it was before everyone knew the minute he woke up and saw you gone, all hell would break loose. Jay should have known. Should have listened to everyone who told them what would happen once he got you here. They were going to kill you. And he needed to stop it. 
First, he needed his weapons back. Following the signs on the walls leading him to the armory. There were two guards on watch when he reached it, “Fucking typical,” he whispered to himself, “All for little ole me?” Jay knew Namjoon was more than likely on high alert, knowing what moves Jay would be making and how he’d make them. Jay and his team aren’t the best smugglers around for nothing. He crouches down, slowly inching himself to the guards, assessing them before making another move. They both had knives and pistols attached to their hips with rifles in hand. Jay didn’t have a lot of time to come up with a solid plan and acted quickly. All the years of surviving had led to this. All the years of killing before getting killed. Learning how to be sneaky and how to lie through his teeth as he stole and picked pocketed his enemies. The person he had to become because of this apocalypse. All led him here. Once Jay was close enough, he quickly stood and broke out into a sprint. The first guard didn’t know what was happening by the time Jay reached him. His hands wrapped around his head and twisted, his body going limp at the crack of his neck. Jay worked fast before the guard's body hit the floor, stealing his knife and shoving it into the other guard's side between his ribs. 
“Now you will give me the information I seek out, got it?” he hisses, “Or you will end up like your friend over there, ya?” 
The guard trembled in Jay’s hands, his eyes darting to his now-dead friend on the cold hospital floor, “What do you want?” he tried to snap back, but it was not having any effect on Jay whatsoever. 
“Where is she?” Jay growled against the man’s ear, “Where. Is. YN?” Silence. Jay pushed the knife in further, the guard gritting his teeth to not scream at the pain, “Where the fuck is my girlfriend?!” Jay was yelling now, no longer playing these games. 
“Second floor, last room on the right side,” the man grunted out, “But it’s too fucking late,” Jay’s heart stopped, “They already began the procedure before sunlight even came, busted in right after you two slept,” you’ve been gone a lot longer than he thought. His panic sank further, “They took from her blood until she passed out and drugged her to stay asleep,” the guard chuckled, “She was a walking cure factory.” 
Jay shoved the knife deeper, “Is she alive?” The man groans in pain, “I SAID IS SHE STILL ALIVE!?” 
“YES!” he hissed, “But not for long. Her blood was only doing so much. They are going to go for her bone marrow now. Going to use every last drop she can give until she’s no longer breathing.” 
The man started to chuckle, but those chuckles changed into gurgles and he gasped for air before tipping over to the floor. Jay’s hands were trembling as he looked down at them, seeing the dark red tint staining his skin and the pool of it now covering the floor where Jay shoved the knife into the side of his neck. Jay swallowed and released a few deep breaths, recollecting himself and noticing his clothes now stained red. Jay sized up the first guard, thank god he looked to be about the same size as him. 
Jay was quick at changing into the guard's uniform, stealing his pistol, knife, rifle, and keycards. Always take the keycards, you never know when you’ll need them. He rushes into the armory, finding your pistol, his shotgun, and both your knives, shoving the smaller items into the backpack, and sliding his shotgun over his shoulder. Before Jay realized, he was stepping over the two dead guards and was up the stairs, making his way to the second floor. His legs shook all the way down into his boots. Trying to push out the images of the two lives he just ended. Jay has killed before during smuggling runs, but it never will get easier or something he’d get used to. This world created all this chaos and turned everyone into monsters. No one had a spot in heaven. Hell was the only final destination. 
The jitters left once both feet touched the second floor, and the rifle pointed upwards. The only thing on his mind now was you and praying he wasn’t too late. The floor was silent until he reached the corner of the building, where four guards were stationed outside the room. This was it. You were just behind those doors, hopefully still breathing. Jay didn’t want to think about what would happen if he went in there and saw you dead. The things he’d do…
You barely blinked in and out of consciousness, the bright lights shining on you from the ceiling were blinding, only being able to see white and the blue of the two doctors' lab coats. They talked between each other, not being able to make out any of the words they spoke. Your body hurts. Your head spun. Were you fixing to die? Where was Jay? Why did you feel so cold? Why did they take you from him the way they did? So many questions piled up in your brain. Jay is the main source of the questions. The main one was that he was safe. That he takes the money and runs so far away from here. That you died for this fucking cure in hopes if anything happened to him he wouldn’t turn into the undead outside. He could survive and have a better life than before. Your thought process was interrupted when both doctors looked down at you and asked a question. You didn’t know if you answered them or not, or couldn’t remember if you did. There was a poke on your wrist, and everything went fuzzy and your eyes closed. 
“She’s asleep again,” one said, setting the syringe down on the table behind him and checking your vital signs on the monitor, “Vitals are normal and steady, we can—“ the doctor stopped speaking, whipping his head to the entrance of the room. 
The other doctor looked at the one across from him, then turned to look at the door, then back to him, “What's wrong?” 
“You didn’t hear that?” he asked, his eyes widening. 
“I think you’re being paranoid, let’s continue.” 
He didn’t take his eyes off the door. Nor did he even have time to think about what happened next as Jay kicked the door open, his rifling pointing directly ahead. The doctor barely had time to see the dead bodies as the door closed behind Jay. Blood coated Jay’s face, hair, and clothes. 
“Joon said he’d be out the whole fucking day!” the doctor closer to Jay shouts, reaching for the surgical knife on the small tray table. 
“Don’t fucking move!” Jay snapped, “Back away from her!” 
The two doctors moved, their hands raised above their heads. Jay looked at you. Your skin was pale and your lips purple. Bruises covered your arms and bare legs, proof enough that you didn’t go down without a fight. You were hooked up to multiple different types of IVs. Jay tried to find any sign that you were breathing, eyes whipping to the monitor, watching as your vitals dropped. All Jay saw then was red. You were dying. He was losing you by the second. He couldn’t waste any more time. So he pulled the trigger. Their screams and voices were muffled out by the buzzing in his ears from the anger and the fear of losing you. He can’t lose you. 
He dropped the rifle to the floor once the room stopped spinning, his legs dragging him to your side, hands immediately grabbing for you. Your skin was cold to the touch. He hissed out from the pain in his chest, the pain of his heart clenching thinking you already were between the lines of life and death. Praying you weren’t. 
“Baby,” he whimpered, tears swelling his eyes, “Come on, YN, please wake up.” Jay softly shook you, placing his ear over your mouth, feeling your breath push out. It was weak. So, so very weak. “Baby don’t leave me, please.” Both his hands cupped your face, thumbs stroking your cheeks, “I can’t live without you, please.” Jay searched the room, removing himself from you to pull open all the cabinets and drawers in search of some drug to get your heart pumping normally again. Anything to get your vitals back up. He found what he needed and rushed back to you, with an empty syringe, “Forgive me, please,” he begged, pulling out the drug with the syringe needle, and filling it up, “Forgive me for bringing you here. For gambling your life like this. I am so so so sorry.” With shaky hands, he finds a vein in your wrist, “I love you,” and gently pushes it into your skin, injecting the clear liquid into your body. Jay whips his head to the monitor, watching your heart rate pick up and your vitals start to normalize. He drops the syringe and falls to his knees, running his crusted red-stained hands through his blonde hair. 
He doesn’t know how long he sat there like that. It wasn’t until you shifted on the table that he jumped back to his feet, coming back to reality and needing to get you out of there. Jay removed the IVs from your arms, bandaging them up and brushing your hair from your face, “Baby?” you fluttered your eyes, still too out of it to really open them. You knew Jay was finally with you, or that you were dreaming. Or even dead. You felt the warmth of his touch, heard his voice, and were barely able to make out his face. But he was here, nevertheless. Jay pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, “Let’s get you out of here.” Jay found your clothes and redressed you with them, tossing the hospital gown across the room. Jay took a final look at the room, seeing the vials filled with your blood and other chemicals. There were at least thirty of them. All were marked with tape that said “cure”. “Those bastards.” he hissed in his brain. But the longer he stared at them, the angrier he got. 
He carried you in his arms, rushing down to the ground level of the hospital, looking for a quick and easy way out. It was easy. A bit too easy. It was unsettling for Jay, something was off. It shouldn’t be this easy. 
“Jay?” you softly whisper, feeling his strong arms squeeze you tighter. Finally becoming more aware of the drugs slowly wearing off. 
“Shhh, It’s okay baby, I’m right here,” he whispers back, eyes darting in every direction, waiting for something to happen. And then it did. 
“Leaving without so much as a goodbye?” 
Jay stopped walking, his jaw clenching. You both were almost to the door, so close to leaving. But he turned anyway, seeing Namjoon standing there with his dimpled smile and hand folded behind his back. Shotaro, Eunseok, Sungchan, Seunghan, Wonbin, Sohee, and Anton standing directly behind him with guns pointing at Jay and you. Jay gritted his teeth, “Nice to see you finally made your appearance.” 
Namjoon chuckled, “I am a busy man, what can I say? Being the leader of this operation is very time-consuming. My apologies for not being there sooner.” Jay just stared at him, holding you tighter to his chest, “I believe you have something of mine,” Namjoon said with a sigh, stepping forward, “Give it back, please.” 
Jay barked out a laugh, “She doesn’t belong to you. Or anyone for that matter. And we’re leaving.” 
Namjoon inhaled, held his breath for a few seconds, and then released it, “You don’t understand what’s going on here, Jay.” 
“Oh like the fuck I don’t!” Jay yelled, taking a few steps back, “You’re killing her!!” 
“A sacrifice that I am willing to make,” Jay hated the straight face Joon was making. Hated how he seemed to be okay with ending your life, “She is special, Jay. She is so important to finding a cure.” 
“Then go find someone else that’s immune!” Jay snapped, “Leave her out of it!” 
Namjoon smiles, “She can save so many lives. Think about the people we can save, at her sacrifice. Think how the world can and will heal because of the sacrifice. Everything can go back to normal and she will be so worth it.” 
Jay clenched you tighter, “The world can fucking burn. She’s worth more than whatever righteousness you think you have by doing this to someone innocent.” 
“We aren’t innocent,” Joon sighs again, “This world made us into hunters, killers, and survivors. No one is innocent.” Jay didn’t want to hear it anymore. He wanted out, now. So he took more steps back, giving his glare locked on Namjoon and the seven guys behind him, “You’re making a mistake,” Joon said, following Jay, “Just give her back…” 
Jay quickly shifted your body to his side, pulling out the pistol at his hip, “Take one more step and I’ll fucking kill you.” 
“Like you did to my guards?” 
Jay said nothing, his fingers going numb from the grin he had on your belt loop to keep you pressed against him. You whimpered, the pain finally settling into you as the drugs wore off more. You clenched your arms around his neck and wrapped your legs around his leg, trying to hold yourself up against his hold, “I’ll kill who I have to to keep her safe.” 
Namjoon could see the desperation on Jay’s face, and just gave him another smile, “Go then. Just know you’re a wanted man the minute you walk out of those doors.” 
“Joon!” Shotaro quickly said, earning Namjoon to hold his hand up to silence him, then waving Jay to go forward. He slowly took the steps back, waiting until his back touched against the doors, and pushed it open, the pistol still pointing directly forward. Namjoon continues smiling even after Jay closes the door, leaving them in the lobby alone. Namjoon had enough samples of your blood to create copies. He also knew Jay would be heading back to his safe zone quickly. Namjoon will get you back. But this time by force. 
Jay slid the open window carefully, using his strength to push and pull himself up through the kitchen window, carefully climbing his way into the house. Jay barely touched his feet to the floor and turned around to see Heeseung pointing a gun in his direction, “What the fuck! It’s just me!” he whispers, “Watch where you point that thing!” 
Heeseung groans, “Why the fuck are you climbing through the window!!” He snaps, pointing to the front door, “You know how to use that right!!” 
Jay just looks at his brother up and down, being able to tell he’s lost weight since he’s been gone. The three of them all probably lost weight. Heeseung’s red hair was now completely washed out, leaving some patches of a soft pink color and some blonde streaks. Cuts and bruises covered Heeseung’s arms. He looked rough, and Jay could only imagine how the other two looked, “You’ve been struggling, haven’t you?” 
Heeseung scoffed, “Yeah, no thanks to you, Mr. Wanted man,” Jay raised a brow and Heeseung just sighed, “We know what happened at the capitol. I’m sorry for what they did to YN. We all should have gone with you.” 
Jay just shakes his head, “No. I almost lost her. I wouldn’t know what to do if I lost her AND you three.” Jay didn’t want to think about what could have happened. He was back home and was safe and that’s all that matters. Jay asked Heeseung how they found out. Namjoon apparently wasted no time in radioing to Jungkook. Which Jay already figured, hint why he climbed through the window. But Jungkook was furious. The whole safe zone went on lockdown for a few months, but when Jay didn’t return directly after five months, everyone assumed he was either dead or not coming back. Jungkook limited the access Hee, Hoon, and Jake got to outside the zone. Not giving them many smuggler missions and even halving their paydown. The three of them struggled all in terms of punishing Jay. 
Heeseung sat at the table and Jay sat across from him, “Where is YN?” 
Jay took in a breath, “At the caved safe zone.” 
“That’s where you’ve been for half a year?” Heeseung didn’t mean to add the venom that came out when he snapped at Jay, “You settled down with your girlfriend and decided we weren’t worth it?” 
Jay slapped his hands on the table, “That’s NOT what happened!” Jay looks over to Sunghoon and Jake’s bed, seeing them still sleeping, and relaxed in his chair, “I knew they’d be coming for me. And I needed to protect her. Needed to give it time before leaving to come back to get you three.” 
“Get us?” Heeseung asked, folding his arms over his chest. 
Jay nods, “I already figured this place would be on a tougher lockdown. Had to find our other secret way that even JK doesn’t know about. Mostly after I saw our main hole was drilled shut,” he sat back, “I kept the money they gave me to take her there. And I stole all the vials they filled with her blood for the cure. I have plans, but I need you guys with me. Those two months in that cave were only to help YN recover better. The three months of getting her to that cave were hell on her. After what they did.” 
Heeseung nodded, only being able to imagine what you went through, “So you want us to leave and go back to the cave with you?” Jay nodded, “Why did you even leave her alone?! What if Namjoon finds her?” 
“She knows how to use a gun,” Jay quickly said, “We both know that. I showed her all the exits and safe places to run to just in case. It was a bigger risk bringing her with me than leaving her.” 
Heeseung thinned his lips in a line, staring at the table and weighing out the options, “What’s this plan?” 
“We sell her cure blood to those in need. Sell all we have and keep our refuge in the abandoned zone a secret. We use the money we have from the capital and from selling her blood to use for goods, clothing, weapons, and whatever we need. We find another zone to smuggle for, probably with Soobin and his team, and just survive.” 
“Just like we always have,” Heeseung softly says, looking at Jay, taking a few more seconds to think it over, “When are we leaving?” 
“Right now,” Sunghoon said, dropping his backpack to the table, “You guys really don’t know how to fucking whisper.” 
Jay chuckles, seeing Jake right behind him with his backpack, “About time we spread our wings from this hellhole,” Jake joked. 
You stood outside the metal door, rocking back and forth on your feet, it’s been months, they should have arrived already. You walked in circles, then went back inside just to walk in more circles around the cave. You cleaned up a bit and laid down to take a nap, just to barely close your eyes but not fully being able to sleep. 
You stood back up with a sigh and walked back outside. Standing there for what feels like forever until you see them. You couldn’t hold back the smile as Jay, Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Jake walked past the gate. You broke out into a sprint. Jay dropped his weapons and backpack to the ground, bending his knees and spreading his arms out, catching you as you jumped onto him. His arms squeeze you tightly and his lips connect to yours. 
The smile his brothers gave you two makes your heart feel warm. Jay sets you down and pulls his three friends into a big hug before snapping orders for everyone to get inside. 
These people were your home now. Your family. Jay gives you a smile as he tangles his fingers with yours, after everything you two have been through, he was worth it and more. It was just your luck that you stumbled into his world. 
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—tags: @alvojake @simpjaes @itachisloverlol @minseongsworld @heeseungshim @allysluvsworld @nyxtwixx @jjaeyunist @in-somnias-world @zeeloveshee @sunpov @xiaoderrrr @butterflywonie @sundoie @cmoundiamante @jentlecoeur @reign-reads @parksunghoonsgf @sparklovespink @wannieepisod @crimnalseung @ilikekpop-c @capri-cuntz @jwnghyuns @kimsunoops @blackhairandbangs @jjongswannabebae @lazy-miya @m3chigo @en-happiness @wonniethepoo @ikeuverse @woninluv @desistay @erehkinnie30 @peachystels @jinspinkflipphone @abysofsteel @randommmmmmvheusbs @minjaexvz @soobywiththebooty @wonryllis @shinrjj @star4rin @iheartjayke @0ctav1asstuff @jakeswifey @hanjisunginc @jinspinkflipphone @jungwonsbabygirl
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thelightsandtheroses · 1 month ago
Text
Sweater Weather | Joel Miller x female reader
Summary: When you pick up a hobby again as the seasons turn in Jackson, Joel wonders why you won’t make him a sweater. Word Count: 2k Warnings: established relationship, pure fluff, copious references to knitting and crafting, references to the ‘sweater curse’ , post season Jackson domesticity, no description of the reader beyond her hobby. Notes: This is just a cosy autumnal piece of fluff to ease back into the fandom a bit. I’ve been struggling with writing and my place in the fandom bit recently but I wanted to take part in @jolapeno and @goodwithcheese ‘s jolabrew with cheese autumn challenge and I’ve recently been crafting a bit and trying knitting and crochet so couldn’t resist this silly little idea,
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You used to love autumn. You thought it would be your favourite season forever. You were intoxicated by the foliage in all its glorious shades of red and mustard yellow, even the browns seemed richer then. You remember jumping through leaves in your childhood, a mug of hot chocolate waiting when you got home.
That was Before though.
Before the colour red reminded you of blood rather than leave. It was before the dark meant risk, meant the chance of an infected hiding away and a rational fear of death.
After the outbreak, all of the moments you clung to, the memories you used to savour, it all felt so pointless in this new world where death was always so close, always a shadow around you.
It’s different here though.
Jackson is like something out of a postcard. It’s simultaneously stuck in another time and fully adapted to the outbreak and the need for security.
You sit on the rocking chair on the porch, hands occupied by knitting needles as you try and turn what was once a too small jumper into something useable for you, or Joel, or Ellie. You’re thinking a scarf maybe for Ellie, as the weather turns more, perhaps even a matching hat if you can salvage enough, or remember how to make one.
“Whatcha makin’?” Joel asks, one arm casually leaning against the wooden jamb of the porch. Sometimes he seems to appear from nowhere and you take in his appearance, eyes slightly tired from patrol but still bright and there’s a small smile on his face as he takes in what you’re up to.
“Not sure yet. It was a sweater before I frogged it, could be good for a scarf or hat, maybe even socks if I can … I don’t know if I can make those.” Before Jackson, it had been a while since you picked up a pair of knitting needles or a crochet hook, or even a decent skein of wool but now you can finally indulge in the hobby again. Back in Boston, you can hardly imagine how many ration cards this would have gone for.
“You’ll figure it out, you always do.” Joel says with a smile.
You remember you used to make Tommy, Tess and Joel whatever you could from scraps of wool or ragged jumpers whenever possible. Your proudest accomplishment was a patchwork blanket over several months for winters in Boston. There was no heating in the apartments and it could get cold.
Now you’ve made a number of sweaters in varying levels of success, for the first the arms were so long in you had to start again, but you’ve also made a scarf and an acceptable number of hats - the latter of which you’ve proudly given to Ellie and Joel.
It feels domestic, normal even. Jackson is just different.
“How was patrol?” you ask.
“Tommy and I went up to the lookout, there were a few infected but-” Joel shrugs and runs a hand through his hair in a motion that still turns to your bones to jelly every single time. “It was fine.“
“Good.”
You take a moment to drink in Joel’s appearance. He looks better here. His clothes fit again, his eyes are brighter. There’s part of you that can’t believe either of you are here now, that he came back. That either of them did.
When you all left Boston, you noticed the way he made sure you and Ellie had supplies, had food when it was in short supply. The closer you’d got to Jackson, the more you’d noticed how he started using a tighter notch on his belt, so you tried to share more with him, make it subtle so he didn’t catch on to your intentions either.
He had taken Ellie on from Jackson alone, insisted he’d only be a couple of weeks, but he’d asked you to stay. There was an unspoken promise to wait for him to come back. Two weeks turned into a month and you’d begged Tommy to send a group to find him and Ellie, you’d begged the town meeting every week but they said no.
Tommy thought Joel was dead, you realised. Him and Maria were trying to subtly prepare you, to help you build a life in Jackson of your own. You knew they were alive though, you just knew it.
After a while, you weren’t so sure. You just weren’t sure what it would mean if they didn’t. Your life was in stasis, waiting for an answer that might never come.
The day Joel came back with Ellie, you’d hugged them both before joking that they stank and tried to wipe away your tears when neither was looking.
That was months ago and now the three of you are settled into Jackson, almost. There are secrets between them about the time they went to Salt Lake City, but they’re here. They’re safe. There’s time for that later.
Hey,” Joel says, “you want to get lunch at the hall?”
“Sure.” You place your wool and knitting inside the hallway of your, Joel and Ellie’s home and walk down the porch to meet him.
The two of you stroll down the street towards the main town hall and dining area. It’s cool, crisp and the sound of leaves crunching under your boots is a balm. Joel’s hand is tantalising close to yours, skimming your fingers as the two of you move in tandem.
“Weather’s turning, we’ll need warmer clothes. I think the stuff I made for Tommy and Maria’s baby went down well.” You pause. “Think I could get a sweater for Ellie and new socks for you outta that.”
“Huh?”
“The wool - you asked what I was making.”
“Oh, right.”
“Seth asked if i can make him a sweater. This wool is for you and Ellie though, if you come across anything on patrol, could you- ”
‘Sure.“
Joel pauses, he’s wearing the expression you’ve noticed whenever he wants to say something but he’s not sure. A slight frown, one brow lowered, concentration on his face.
“Is everything okay?”
“Sure.”
“Joel, I know that face.”
“Seth asked if you can make him a sweater.”
“For trades, Joel, could be useful. I think he mentioned a certain bottle of wine that I’ve been eyeing up.”
“Okay.”
“What is it?”
“You’ve made me some lovely things, darlin’, and I truly appreciate the hat, but I -I know it sounds selfish, but I -”
“You want a sweater,” you say in realisation. You should have known, the last time you knitted a jumper you couldn’t help but notice how Joel had watched you doing it.
“I mean, not necessarily. It just feels like half the town has sweaters you’ve knitted ‘cept -”
“You.”
“It’s stupid, I’m sorry.”
“No. No, it’s not. It’s just, I can’t make you a sweater, Joel.”
“You can’t make me a sweater?” Joel asks.
You nod solemnly. “Honestly, I would, but I really can’t.”
“Well, why not?“
“Sweater curse.”
“Sweater curse?”
“Sweater curse.”
The two of you reach the dining hall and you kiss Joel lightly on the cheek before you open the door. “We’re okay, right?”
“Course we are,” he says firmly, squeezing your hand and putting an arm around you. “Sweater curse?” you hear him mumble to himself.
You should elaborate, explain things but in all honesty this is a moment you’ve dreaded. It’s as close to defining your relationship as you and Joel have come in some time. Mostly, the two of you are together and you’re exclusive and that’s enough. There’s no need to put any firmer labels on things than that because the two of you just work.
By the time the two of you have selected your lunch and are sitting at the table.
Tommy’s wearing a sweater you’ve made. Joel scowls for a second.
“What the fuck is a sweater curse?”
Tommy bursts out laughing.
“Rally?” He laughs, raising an eyebrow at you.
“I’m not messing with that shit. Not in this world.”
“This world?”
“There are people essentially infected by a mushroom, Joel, I will play ball with any superstitions I need to.”
“That sounds sensible actually,” Tommy says thoughtfully. “So … the sweater curse, huh?”
“How do you know about the sweater curse?” Joel asks.
“Dated someone into crochet some time back.”
“You dated someone … Jesus, Tommy. So what is it?”
“Well you know if you give someone you’re dating a homemade sweater, the curse is you’ll break up.”
”Oh.”
Joel scrutinises you and you feel your face heating. “It’s an old wives’ tale, but I - I would rather not chance it.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
“I know, I know. It’s just I know someone who did make their girlfriend a sweater and then she broke up with them. Do you remember Tamsin back in the QZ?“
“Tamsin was a smuggler and dating a woman in FEDRA, it was doomed before the sweater,” Tommy says.
“Nonetheless.”
“But okay, if you’re really worried, I get it,” Tommy says, earning a scowl from Joel.
“It’s just an urban legend, baby,” Joel says.
“That might be true, but with you? Nope, I don’t want to risk it.”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he repeats calmly, looking into your eyes and squeezing a knee as he slightly moves you so you’re both facing each other. The distractions of Tommy and the dining hall melt away. It’s like a balm over your body, the fact that Joel is here with you, that he still wants to be with you. The connection between the two of you runs deep and it’s certainly not always run smoothly. This town has been a true second chance for the two of you to achieve something close to normal, and maybe, you realise, Joel can see that.
“You go on patrol, Joel, it’s not as simple as that.”
Tommy looks away and Joel swallows. You watch how he tries to work through his answer, lips slightly pursed as he ponders the rich approach. There’s a freckle on his neck, one that whenever you see it instantly transports you to nights with him and moments between the sheets. You’ve catalogued every freckle, every mark, every scar now.
“I won’t push you on this,” he says quietly. “The gloves and hats are real nice.”
You smile softly, kissing him on the cheek before turning your attention back to your food. The water jug is empty so you decide to go and get a refill.
As you walk away, you can hear Tommy and Joel’s voices still.
“Now I think about it, there’s a way around the curse anyway,” Tommy says quietly, clearly in the hopes you won’t hear them. The years together have led to your hearing becoming attuned to them, to Joel’s voice in particular. You could pick him out of any crowd.
“Oh yeah?” There’s a lightness in Joel’s voice now, that slight teasing edge you love.
“Marry her. That’s the workaround. Honest.”
Joel chuckles. “For a sweater? Can’t marry her for a sweater. That ain’t right.”
“You said you were going to marry her anyway, Joel. Isn’t a sweater just a bonus?”
“Tommy!”
“I’m just sayin’, you said you had a plan.”
“I do and shut up, will you? She’ll hear.”
You freeze momentarily. Joel’s talked about marriage with you to Tommy? You take a deep breath before returning to the table.
“Is it true?” Joel asks in a whisper to you. “I know you heard Tommy and me.”
“Reckon I could ask the same question.”
Joel swallows. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”
“Same.” You pause and smile mischievously, “Say it was true, I take it you have a colour preference for a sweater then, Joel?”
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forever-rogue · 16 days ago
Note
Your fics kill me and bring me back to life queen! Requesting Joel and fem!reader almost dying from a clicker attack; Joel and her end up getting blood stained, give each other a bath in the same tub, and talk about what’s to come.
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AN | This concept is both so sad but so soft ❤️
Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Warnings | Language
Word Count | 1.9k
Masterlist | Joel, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Both you and Joel were covered in blood, guts, and bits of brain. 
You’d been doing your best not to cry, trying to remain somewhat composed but it was hard. The tears were welling up in your eyes but none of them had managed to roll down your cheeks just yet. You were fighting them back; you knew that once the tears started it would open the floodgates and all the pent up emotions would come right out. 
Joel, meanwhile, looked almost…fine. Not fine, but not like you, ready to fall apart at any moment. You supposed that he was more used to it, the violence and gore, while you were still fairly…unfamiliar. Admittedly, you had very little ‘real’ world experience compared to Joel. You knew that one day, you’d probably come across the infected, but you hadn’t expected that it would come close to costing you your life. 
Your partner had been all but silent as he sprang into action to help save you while you panicked, screamed, and cried, probably attracting almost everything around you. Joel had remained the image of cool and collected as he took them all down to make sure you were safe. 
Once you were safe and accounted for, he’d hauled you to your feet and started making his way back home, keeping you close behind. Neither of you spoke a word, the silence loud enough to speak volumes. 
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
By the time you got back to the home you shared with Joel, you felt like you were on the verge of a mental breakdown. You closed the door behind the two of you, before leaving against it and sliding to the floor, in a small heap of sobs. You weren’t able to contain the emotions any longer and they all spilled out at once. You didn’t even care that you were dirty and smelly, you just couldn’t be bothered to keep going at that moment. 
Joel had already started making his way upstairs but stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he heard your first sob. He turned back around and quickly made his way over to you, dropping to his knees right to see what was going on.
“Hey,” he whispered softly, reaching for your face and gently taking it in his hands. He hated to see you crying, especially right now, when you had just had a near death experience. Joel brushed your tears away, trying to hide his frown when he noticed all the grime and blood still sticking to your skin. He wished you hadn’t had to experience such a thing; he’d tried to protect but failed. He could have, should have, done more, “baby, you’re alright. It’s okay, I’m right here. I’ve got you.”
You managed a small nod, your lip trembling as a few more tears ran down your cheeks. Joel gently shushed you before pulling you into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you. With the little energy and strength you had remaining, you hugged him back, burying your face into his chest. He held you for a while, letting you get out your tears, and occasionally offering you a few gentle words of reassurance. When you felt like you were all dried up and your throat was raw, you pulled back and looked at him with puffy, red eyes and a forlorn expression on your face. 
“You’re going to be okay,” he promised, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I swear it.”
“Joel,” you managed to choke out his name, “I…today...it was horrible.”
“I know,” he brushed his knuckles along your cheek, his heart hurting for what you had just been through. He’d gone through it enough times himself and had gotten to the point where he had become almost numb to it all. It was a horrible thing really, to become so desensitized to actions that had once been considered carnage. He was silent for a few moments, unsure of what to say. There wasn’t much to say and he couldn’t just turn back time, “it becomes easier over time, but I don’t want it to become easier for you. I don’t want you to have to go through that again.”
“But,” you looked at him with wide eyes as you grabbed his hands and held them tightly in yours. You’d been so caught up in your own woes that you hadn’t even considered how Joel could have been feeling, “are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he offered you a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, that didn’t quite feel genuine, “I’m alright.”
“Are you?” your question came softly, whispered just loud enough for him to hear. He paused for a moment before hanging his head and giving it a gentle shake. You breathed in softly and exhaled through your nose before wrapping your arms around his neck and giving him a tight hug, squeezing him with everything you had, “I love you.”
“I love you,” he murmured softly as he buried himself in you, breathing in your soft scent and allowing it to wash over him.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
After a short while, you slowly untangled yourselves before making your way upstairs to the bathroom. You were almost desperate to get the dirt and grime and whatever else was on your body so you could feel like a human again. 
When you got upstairs and into the bathroom, Joel immediately turned on the shower, getting it just as warm as you liked. He turned to you, slowly and reverently starting to peel off your clothes. You lifted your arms as so he could remove your shirt, a small sound escaping your lips as the cloth stuck to a few of the superficial wounds you’d managed to obtain. It already felt a million times better just to be free of your shirt, which was quickly followed by your bra. 
Joel’s touch was gentle as he undid the button of your jeans before helping you to step out of them and kicking them to the side to get them as far away as possible. Your underwear was next and you left standing there naked. It didn’t matter though; just shedding the layers allowed you to feel a million times better.
You wiped some of the grim from your face before motioning for Joel to step closer to you. He did so, his face becoming more gentle as he watched you. You reached for the hem of his henley, slowly pulling it over his head and tossing it into the pile of your clothes. Your lips pulled into a small frown when you realized that his ribs and shoulder were already starting to bruise. You trailed your fingers softly along his skin, tutting under your breath.
“It doesn’t hurt that bad,” he insisted, which you knew was only for your benefit, “nothing I haven’t dealt with before.”
“Doesn’t mean I have to like it,” you insisted, reaching for his belt buckle and slowly undoing it before and tugging his jeans down his legs. Joel pulled down his boxers before kicking it all away, “I already feel better. Just having the gross clothes gone.”
He made a small sound in response before pulling the shower curtain back so you could get inside and under the warmth of water. You let out an audible sigh at the feeling of the warm water cascading all over your skin. Joel stepped in after you, shoulders sagging with relief that the day was over and that you were both home safe. 
“C’mere,” he grabbed your shoulders and tenderly traded places with you. He grabbed the shampoo bottle, pouring some into his hand before moving to wash your hair. You tried to ignore the water that was running off your bottles and red swirls that ran down the drain. It was over and you were okay. Joel started to lather the shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp just how he knew you loved. You had to work to keep in the moan that threatened to spill out of your mouth at the feeling. 
He worked in silence for a while as you tried to relax and forget about the horrors of the day. It was when he was about halfway through conditioning your hair, you realized that tears had run down your face. When you stepped under the water to rinse your hair, Joel wiped away your tears, which managed to bring the smallest smile to your face. 
Once your hair was washed, you went to reach for the bar of soap but Joel beat you to it, working quickly to get your body clean and wash away the rest of dirt and grime that had been left on your body.
“Thank you,” you whispered softly, throwing your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a tight hug. The two of you stayed that way for a while, until you felt yourself start to get pruney, “come on, handsome. It’s my turn to get you all clean.”
Joel knew better than to argue with you, and admittedly loved getting his hair washed just as much as you did. You took your time to make sure he was just as clean as you were, pressing gentle kisses to his shoulders and neck. At one point, he took your face in his hands and kissed you until you were breathless. You let him hold you until the water ran cold and both of you were ready to get into pajamas and get into bed. 
Once you got out of the shower and dried off, you stole a shirt and a pair of boxers from Joel and slipped into them before getting into bed for some much needed rest. Joel followed suit and quickly joined you in the bed, letting out a groan at the comfort of being clean and in bed with you. 
He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his warm frame so he was your big spoon.  You put your hand on top of his and offered it a gentle squeeze. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before whispering in your ear, “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you responded, “thank you for protecting me today. I don’t…I don’t know what I would have done without you today. I might be-”
“Shh,” he cut you off, “don’t say anything else. You don’t have to. We’re here now, safe.”
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat in an effort not to cry, “I’m glad for that.”
“Me too,” he promised, “me too.”
It wasn’t long after that until you both managed to fall asleep. 
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knotty-pink-hair · 3 months ago
Text
Logs 8-11…“Night Expedition Training with Axiom the Scientist and his Apprentice Vivette of the S.S. Sentinel”
I spent the remainder of the night worrying—parasitic and burrowing thoughts going in all directions—and once I’d had enough of that, I went to the kitchen and wrote drafts of letters to Aster on my kopad none of which I intended to send.
My eyes felt heavy. The morning light gradually transitioned from dawn’s deep blue to white. Hearing my teammates beginning to stir in the sleeping quarters filled me with agitation.  
Zileke was the first up with her hair pinned messily to the top of her head. When she got to the kitchen, she stared at me for a long moment.
“What are you doing up?” She asked me. Yew danced next to her waiting for her food.
“Ehhh,” I offered.
“You better not drag your feet later. You have training.”
Zileke dropped the food bowl onto the floor. Yew tore into it slopping it all over her muzzle. Klark came into the kitchen next with a look of befuddlement. I imagined he had quiet mornings sipping his tea, reading the news on his kopad, and here being the last up seemed to embarrass him.
“What’s all this about?” He asked as he gestured to everything. “You all could have slept longer. I told you this. We’re moving the ship this morning to sector 64.”
I nodded.
Zileke responded, “I’m sure Thistle stayed up all night watching the onion for any rogue pikmin activity.” It sounded like a joke—Klark scoffed and went to put the kettle on—and then she sounded irritated, “I’m very observant. I know you made her paranoid. If she doesn’t sleep, she’s useless.”
“It’s nothing. I had some bad dreams,” I told her. My eyes flicked over to Yew. She had gravy all over her face.
“What are you, five years old? I’m giving you a sleep aid later. You’ll be too tired to have bad dreams,” Zileke said.
To Klark and I’s dismay, this was not the end of the conversation. It was a new day, reenergized, and Zileke took the opportunity to recall numerous past transgressions. I had no mental capacity to follow her line of thought. Klark took his morning tea to the cockpit, but Zileke followed him.
I feared our ship would crash intentionally.
***
A few hours later, our ship descended and came to rest upon a beach. The surrounding area had innumerable pockets in the sand; from above, they looked like the seed pod of a lotus flower. These were tide pools. According to the ship, they were full of treasures and cave systems but not much food.
The food was located eastward where grasses grew and stabilized the sand into dunes. This is where Zileke, Klark, and Yew would be harvesting in tandem with unit 3267.
We walked a short distance to the other team’s ship. They were a party of seven—four field workers, two security officers, and one juicer. They had two sporty-looking gray pups with long snouts and cropped ears. Klark shook everyone’s hand; everyone seemed to already know him. The team’s lead Limerick embraced him with familiar warmth. I wondered if Klark had trained her.
Zileke went straight for the field workers profusely exclaiming how relieved she was to have extra help, teammates who knew what they were doing and could do it well. This exclamation was received with a chorus of agreement.
“The second she’s around other people, she takes the opportunity to drag our names through the mud,” I said to myself although Klark heard me.
“Oh, she’s only dragging your name, Thistle,” he said.
“Thank you, sir.”
Klark grinned. Limerick pushed past him to shake my hand.
She said, “I’ve seen your progress on the voyage logs, Thistle. A real tough thorn you are! I think I’d prefer calling you that—Thorn. You know it’s hard to find new security officers with your kind of character."
I chirped ‘thank you.’
They left my side to join Zileke and the other field workers. The group carefully marked their kopads with different colors to highlight their harvest routes. Klark rattled off names of fruit or vegetables along each path and gave the field workers their quotas for the day. Even Limerick deferred to his authority and marked her kopad accordingly.  
One security officer—Palmas—went around carefully inspecting each of the field workers’ suits and helmets. He ran a wand over their bodies checking for any punctures in the suit polymers. The other security officer was a beast of a woman named Drogheda. When she approached me, she cast a shadow so I could look up at her without the sun hitting my eyes. She put a monstrous hand down on my shoulder. She told me she too had taken naturally to a security position. Sometimes her squad of 15 pikmin even rode on her back like they would a pup.
“Isn’t that heavy?” I squeaked.
“Heavy?” Drogheda asked.
Klark hollered at me to start walking to the Sentinel.
I trekked through the sand a while before looking back. Zileke had mounted Yew; two of the other field workers had mounted the gray pups, which howled in excitement. Pikmin slid down the legs of 3267’s onion seemingly forever. Their squad would easily reach 200.
I turned forward, watched the sand carefully for eye stems of hidden predators buried beneath my feet. I walked until I saw the Sentinel on the horizon, and then I sat by a large pool. Puckering blinnows [small fish] swam together in a pod causing ripples on the water surface. Beneath the blinnows a large peckish artistocrab [fiddler crab] crept carefully on its stick legs over a massive hole—a hole that seemed too large for any creature.
My eyelids drooped. I tried to imagine myself at home on Koppai. The sounds of the beach—the waves, the wind, and the nearby droning of yellow wollyhops [frogs] kept me from accepting the fantasy of home.
I watched with disinterest as the S.S. Fledgling appeared overhead, spit out a red pikmin, and then zoomed away. The redmin stood up, dazed, his stem whirling around. He hobbled over to me and sat down. There was a sticky note slapped on his forehead that read Specimen.
I was surprised to see how quickly Klark had managed to single out Sock. Our problematic little redmin had gotten quite good at blending in with his squad. Even that level of awareness was off-putting; Sock knew he shouldn’t stand out, but he could not prevent certain functions: his catatonic states, his confusion. We had agreed that I would complete the solo trip to the Sentinel, and Klark would send Sock along in the Fledgling whenever they managed to sniff him out.
All three of us had anticipated about four hours of harvest before Sock would fall out of step with the squad and reveal himself. But instead he managed to do it in 30 minutes.
Did that mean his condition was worsening?
I reached forward and gently peeled the note off his forehead. Sock tried to stick this in his mouth. We walked together through the remainder of the tidepools. Sock stopped several times to look in the pools—he lashed out at his reflection, tried wading out up to his chest to reach a blinnow, which thankfully swam away. More than once I whistled at him, tried to redirect his attention. It was a longer walk than it should have been. He quit messing with the water after I grabbed him and carried him awhile. Then when I put him back down he tried my patience with digging. Before I could correct him, he’d come running to my side as if he’d been following all along. He did however find a broken scallop shell in the sand, and this he handed over to me as if remembering the time I confiscated the bulbear eye stem.
Eventually we came to an incline where the Sentinel safely rested out of reach of high tide. I was halfway up the dune when I heard the tell-tale cry of a distressed pikmin.
I turned around, watched Sock sputtering in a pool.
And I did not react. I knew it would not take long for him to drown. Twelve more seconds maybe.
But I found myself running down to him. I pulled him out of the water; he’d ripped off his flower petals while panicking and was a leafhead once again.
I pressed my helmet against his face and shouted, “What is wrong with you?! Just stop! Stop it!”
I don’t know why this started me crying—his stupid little coughs as he tried to clear his lungs of water—it took a long time to console myself and then climb the hill to the ship. Axiom’s assistant Vivette looked deeply concerned as I approached with pathetic and hopeless Sock holding my hand like a child.
***
Vivette and I sat at a picnic table outside of the ship. The table had an umbrella, which bathed us in welcome shade as the sun grew hotter with the afternoon.
We both observed Sock in his tiny makeshift prison. It was a pup cage though Vivette explained they’d never had a pup. She wasn’t one for conversation—thankfully I wasn’t either—and only asked me a few questions related to the patient. His behavior—confused, sometimes nocturnal, prone to catatonic states, etc. The only thing Vivette seemed to care about was Sock’s mindless chewing on fallen prey. I told her it was a symptom of confusion as he wasn’t consuming any meat, but she dismissed my comment. I gave her the petals Sock had lost during his bout in the tidepool. There were micro blue veins on them that I had not noticed before. Finally, physical evidence of infection.
Vivette said she’d view a petal under her microscope in addition to a sample of Sock’s blood. After a long pause, she added,
“Axiom is asleep and will be asleep until dusk. I suggest you also get some rest although I cannot tell you what to do.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said.
“Please don’t come inside the ship. I find other people very distracting when I work, and I have 30 vials of Cure to make before your Night Expedition.”
“Okay.”
“If you need anything, send me a message on my kopad so you won’t have to come inside.”
“I understand thanks, Vivette.”
She nodded, scurried off into the ship and closed the hull door. I half-wondered if she’d lock it.
And for the next eight or so hours I laid on the picnic table, arms crossed over my chest, dozing and listening to Sock.
Hmm hmm-hmm hmmmm hmmmm he hummed.
***
The picnic table caused a terrible aching in my back, and this woke me from my nap. It was nighttime. The wollyhops were in full chorus and gone was the comfortable warmth of the afternoon sun. Above me, a green light emanated from the top of the umbrella.
I pushed myself upright with a loud groan. The light above me wavered on the umbrella, and the faces of five glow pikmin peered down at me having heard my movement. They blinked at me with those mishappen blue eyes—and chittered to each other.
Another appeared like a wisp beside me and sniffed my suit. Several of them hovered near the pup cage, but Sock had fallen silent. He was very much awake—I saw his eyes in the darkness—but he kept himself perfectly still. At least part of his survival instincts remained intact; pikmin unfortunate enough to find themselves outside of an onion at nightfall knew they had to hide and keep quiet to survive until morning.
I admitted to myself I was relieved Sock had not somehow escaped his cage. I wasn’t sure if this was rational to consider. It was hard to say.
When I stood up, the glowmin disappeared in a wink. The hull door of the ship slammed open, and a man with short blonde hair stomped down the stairs. Vivette followed him with a green vial in her hand. They both wore black suits.
Black, really? At night…
“What do they think we are, machines?!” The man hollered. I jumped at the volume of his voice. “I get a few hours of sleep and wake up to another damn request for immediate extraction!”
“It seems most unreasonable, Dr. Axiom,” Vivette said, and she tried to push the vial into his hand.
“Most unreasonable!” Axiom shouted into the night air. “Most unreasonable indeed! Outrageous even! Working like we do 12 hours a day, no help, no breaks, and you’re not even certified. How long do they expect me to put up with—gimme that vial—”
I watched with horror as he worked his arm out of his suit sleeve, rifled through his torso, and then pulled the vial through the suit’s zipper. He brought the vial up to the inside of his helmet and drank.
“Uhhh,” I said stupidly.
He smacked his lips, stared straight ahead, then nodded.
“Yep, that’s good. Check off batch test.”
“Yes, doctor,” Vivette replied. “Thirty vials are prepared for queued request 113. Their ship will arrive in 36 minutes to collect the cargo.”
“I’ll be sure to fuck off then in the next 36 minutes.”
“Yes, doctor.”
Axiom walked over to the pup cage and gave it a kick. Sock didn’t make a sound. Axiom bent over to look at him.
“What’s this all about?” He asked.
“Infected redmin from KoCo Freight unit 6321. Exhibiting symptoms of—”
“Easy, Vivette. I know what it is. I want to know what it’s about, how big of a problem it’s going to be, if I should expect my blood pressure to spike.” He paused and then addressed me. “Thistle, is it? From Garrenoi on Koppai?”
“Aye,” I said.
“Garrenoi home of the Acidic Pool Valley. Great place for research on anaerobic bacteria. Nice dry heat. Always end up leaving with less interns then when you started.” He winked. “But enough chatting, we have 34 minutes to leave the area and thus avoid thinly veiled threats from the Rescue Corps.”
“Thirty-three minutes, doctor,” Vivette added.
“Alright, let’s go sleepy bones! Up and at ‘em! Come on now!” Axiom yelled. He took a stick and started banging the pup cage. I winced. We heard something like a whisper of giggles, and then the ground and the sky filled with burning green embers—the glowmin. “Oh you’ll put on a show for Thistle, how cute. Giggling like little fae. So nice of you to join us.” But Axiom’s voice was endearing. The glowmin flocked to him and raised their little arms to touch his suit. “Everybody’s here. Okay then. Off we go.”
And we headed out while Vivette stayed and moved crates of what I imagine were vials from inside the ship to outside refrigeration units. I saw Sock’s eyes staring out at us while we departed, and I turned away so that I didn’t have to see him.
***
I thought it was a good idea to review several voyage logs from the Rescue Corps to get an idea of what a Nighttime Expedition should look like.
I paid careful attention to all protocols, took copious notes on my kopad with highlights. Doctor Axiom was exemplary in every decision he made. He operated on an advanced level of Dandori like I had not seen before. Doctor Axiom, if I could best describe him, was a Rube Goldberg Machine of ramshackle efficiency.
He also broke every protocol for a Nighttime Expedition and should probably be discharged from service.
Axiom used military-grade knives to engage night creatures himself when necessary. He stopped for snacks frequently and seemed to have no concern for perimeter security. He attached to my backpack a wireless speaker and played classical music so loud it echoed off the sand dunes additionally acting like a beacon to nearby predators.
Several times during combat Axiom received a direct message on his kopad and stopped what he was doing to ANSWER. He’d be red-faced, typing, grumbling about bureaucratic bull “shite” while I frantically whistled commands to the shrieking glowmin. I couldn’t believe how much fighting and collecting happened with no commands whatsoever. The glowmin behaved autonomously most of the time as if all they needed was the doctor’s presence to assure them.   
Aside from the constant terror and near-death encounters, there was not much to report of our five nights together. Despite the darkness, I felt like a shadow following Axiom around and carrying things for him including six packs of highly caffeinated cola. I also toted around an assortment of snacks, bombs, academic journals, and no less than 40 glowmin seedlings at a time.
Most of the night Axiom charged glowmin to collect glow pellets out of vacant tide pools or pockets in the sand. The glowmin carried them—seemingly from all directions—to tricknolls, which illuminated green and convulsed with sap.
[a lumiknoll is a plant with exposed root ends called tricknolls; both parts of this plant can absorb glow pellets and make sap, which is then used to make Cure]
Axiom paid no mind to how many tricknolls we lost from night creatures; it was all in his periphery. Any formidable creatures we faced would be met with the power of a glowmob—some 112 glowmin—illuminating the nearby terrain with the brightness of a small sun before unleashing a violent shockwave.
It was terrifying. Each night we were assaulted by creatures with red eyes reflecting in the starlight. There were times the glowmin attached themselves to an enemy and subdued it before I could even tell what it was. Towering Shaggy and Baldy Long Legs [daddy long legs spiders] stepped on our tricknolls and left behind green-sap footprints. Burrowing Shearwigs [beetle-like insects] several times blackened the sky above their swarms were so large as they descended on a lumiknoll. And how could I forget a Smoky Progg [sludge-like enemy] spitting up projectile stomach acid not 30 feet away from the ship, Vivette, and all our supplies.
On one pathetic occasion I found myself on the back of a runaway Dweevil [a spider], which took Axiom 45 minutes to catch up to while he battled salmonella he’d contracted from eating tainted peanut butter. Despite ongoing diarrhea and horrific abdominal cramping, Axiom did not take any nights off. He wouldn’t even entertain the thought. Too many clients had backorders of cure waiting for leaflings.
Even if you’re dead, there’s work to be done.
The constant chaos was peppered with numerous calls from Vivette as she worked on cure vials or shipment pickups. Axiom exhaled in exasperation every time his kopad chirped with an incoming call, but he never failed to answer her. Nearly every call involved a Rescue Corps officer stationed at the Sentinel for pickup refusing to be placated by Vivette’s reassurances barking about the delayed order or lack of available Cure, demanding to speak to Axiom. There were passionate verbal fights over speaker phone every night, which never seemed to upset Vivette. I could hear her typing away on her kopad—probably answering messages—while Axiom and an officer shouted at each other in primal rage.
If I said a tiny fraction of what Axiom said to an officer, I would be fined and discharged within 24 hours and here he was slewing vitriol at anybody criticizing his (or Vivette’s) work ethic. The verbal altercations enraged Axiom so much that his kopad would alert repeatedly from spiked blood pressure. Or maybe it was spiked caffeine levels.
No amount of poor behavior brought trouble to Axiom’s doorstep. He was equal parts irreplaceable and insubordinate. The Rescue Corps knew it. Axiom knew it. The government knew it.
They could slap his wrist for disciplinary action over and over again, but it was all formalities.
This was the first time I had been exposed to essential defiance. Nothing looked quite the same after.
***
When it came time to switch roles and work alongside Vivette, I was all but useless—a slimy, sloppy sack of goo. I was so tired I felt like I was oozing.
I sat on a stool and watched bleary-eyed as Vivette took a pipette and added proteins to a batch of vials. She kept checking over her shoulder, which annoyed me greatly as we both knew I was fighting to stay focused.
She called me over when I started to nod off. We stared at the batch through our clear goggles, my pipette carefully suspended above; I squeezed four drops of cloudy fluid—glow sap—into each vial. It was hours of careful application and measurement. The temperature of the fluids had to be cautiously monitored. Sugar levels and alkaline levels had to be just right for the bacteria. Under the microscope, they were hairy-looking beans wiggling toward any green beads of glow sap, feasting on them and then later splitting in binary fission. It was all very meticulous and irritating. A single mismeasurement ruined an entire batch, which ordinarily should feel like a minor disappointment, but it did not feel that way. It felt so much worse. Every ordinary mistake on my part meant one less batch ready for pickup, which meant a dozen patients left in leafling state.
The urgency to save lives felt all-consuming. Even when we stepped away to eat or rest our eyes, my mind kept ruminating as if I was still making Cure. Vivette did not reprimand me any time I messed up. She kept a neutral expression and never raised her voice in anger. I imagined her standing on a frozen lake observing fractals of cracks spreading through the ice. She seemed to await the inevitable with a sort of tension but not fear. Something else I couldn’t name.
There was no permanent solution to the leafling crisis. Our lab grown bacteria once consumed bypassed a patient’s immune system and flipped genetic switches on or off. Leafling or human. This was not the same as getting sick and developing antibodies. The same person could be changed into a leafling and cured multiple times. Finding a permanent solution to this problem meant potential breakdown of a patient’s DNA, and ethically the whole matter was considered illegal under the pretense of ‘genoism.’
The weight of this knowledge exhausted me. This was highly specialized labor with no possible end on the horizon.  
Outside the sun was high in the sky, and the ship reverberated with Axiom’s snoring in the next room. By the time our work in the lab was complete, it was dark outside with the final orange streaks of sunset fading into navy. Vivette and I walked back and forth from the ship to the outside refrigeration units carrying boxes of cure vials. We waved goodbye to Axiom and the glowmin as they headed out to harvest.
Rescue Corps ships arrived at our base every 30 minutes—sometimes concurrently—to pick up the cure batches. The officers in their red suits didn’t bat an eye at me. They had dark circles under their eyes, spoke shortly with Vivette, stood with perfect posture upright and alert. Each pickup an officer would extend their wrist for Vivette to sign some form on a kopad. Once they got the signature, they were able to takeoff. There were those of course who decided they had two minutes to have Vivette call Axiom so they could have a shouting match.
What unnerved me was the silent familiarity the officers had with Vivette and she with them—everyone knew each other’s names without referencing digital nametags. These officers had made multiple pickups from the S.S. Sentinel meaning they had multiple accidents themselves, or clients demanding cure.  
This provided me with unfiltered anxiety of how prevalent the leafling problem was. And the officers seemed to be in a rush; there was no time to consider how things operated, how they could maybe improve the manufacture of cure vials.
There was no time to lose. Or maybe if you were a leafling you really had all the time in the world. The state of things didn’t bother you. Why would they? You weren’t yourself anymore.   
***
On the fifth and final evening, the three of us sat around a fire. The glowmin hovered around us, next to us, above us like fireflies. We listened as they sang quietly under the louder chorus of frogs.
We were full from dinner and sat in quiet contemplation.
Back at the basecamp of my unit and unit 3267, there were two KoCo Freight ships picking up crates of juice. I observed the pickup on my kopad; digital numbers ticked away on the right side of the screen as Klark verified data.
Axiom took Sock out of the pup cage and sat the pikmin on his lap. This action immediately ceased the glowmins’ singing; some dissipated altogether. Axiom lifted Sock’s arms, squeezed his legs, pulled at his stem. Sock didn’t move whatsoever—a lifeless doll. The glowmin regarded him with wary expressions. 
I sighed heavily, said, “This is the first time I’ve seen other pikmin treat So—I mean—they’ve never treated the redmin differently before. The glowmin must know something is wrong with him.”
Axiom nodded. I was tired from our work these past four days, and it did not register in my mind when Axiom took out a syringe and injected Sock in his side. My heart skipped. “Did you—is that the medicine to—?”
“Yep,” Axiom said. He placed Sock on my lap and then returned to his seat. “He’ll knock off in a moment.”
“Oh, I didn’t think you’d do that right—right now. Klark said I’d feed him nectar.”
Vivette looked over her glasses at me.
“We were scheduled to euthanize the redmin yesterday, actually. But we experienced a delay,” she said. Axiom waved at her.
“What is a schedule but a foolish attempt to control the hands of fate,” Axiom said. I felt him looking at me, but I sat there stupidly staring at Sock, my temple throbbing as I felt myself getting upset. “It’s hard not to get attached. Thistle, dear, you know I mean that when I say it.”
He did. The knives, the bombs. He tried diligently to protect his glowmin from being killed even though some academics speculated glow pikmin did not experience death at all, not as we understand, but rather underwent a transitional state.
I did not care for that argument because glowmin screamed in agony the same as any other pikmin when they were being crushed inside the mandibles of a predator.
Sock blinked his eyes very slowly, looked up at me. I gently ran my hand up and down his back. He turned his head and looked at a group of glowmin sitting on top of the ship.
“I’m sorry, Sock,” I whispered for only him to hear.
“Mmm,” Axiom grumbled uncomfortably. He slapped his knees, said, “We’ll have a clear picture of everything with the autopsy. It’s vitally important for the wellbeing of the other pikmin. Hell, even the glowmin. What do you call him? Sock?”
I flinched. “Sock will have done a mighty good thing for his onion. His death will be important. You know, some harvesters do not respect the humanity of pikmin. They see them as disposable. Never have that outlook on sentient life, Thistle, ever. We don’t see people that way when they’re reduced to leaflings. Look how hard we work to produce cure, to get them back in their right minds. The pikmin see us as indispensable. I’m certain my glowmin would mourn my body for days. Besides myself and Vivette, they don’t have anyone looking out for them.”
Sock slumped in my arms.
“You know, Dr. Axiom, the first time I saw you I thought you might die. You drank cure vial as if it was nothing,” I said with a soft laugh. I held Sock’s head upright so he could look at the stars. “Why would you do such a crazy thing?”
Axiom laughed loudly. “Ah,” he said. “That’s the least crazy thing I’ve done in the time you’ve been with me. Right, Vivette?” She ignored us both and typed away at her kopad. “Drinking the cure was not madness. My kopad checks for certain protein levels; anything short of perfection would have alarmed—”
“And potentially damaged your DNA,” Vivette muttered.
“Ha! It’s a quick and efficient process I assure you, Thistle. I always perform final batch tests for Vivette who thankfully has never been leaf-turned.”
He smiled at her, but she did not look up from her kopad. “My dear Vivette. You appear to have lost all social etiquette. I’ve kept you in the lab too long.”
She looked up from typing.
“Don’t mourn for this sick pikmin, Thistle,” Vivette said; she nearly growled. “Attachment begets grief and this breaks down the body’s capacity to produce.” She frowned at her kopad. “Grief clouds the mind…distracts the senses…”
“Human qualities, I’m afraid,” Axiom said.
“…creates a state of semi-awareness, of fragmented reality…”
“I wouldn’t describe it that way in a eulogy, but yes—”
“…a state of languishing decay—both in the mind and the body— for an indeterminate amount of time…”
“Something about the night sky brings out the human need to philosophize,” Axiom said. “Our ancestors gave up countless hours of sleep to lie awake and discuss all the things they didn’t understand about the world.”
“…if only we could forgo sleep then we’d finally catch up,” Vivette whispered.
Axiom said more after this, how he’d been changed into a leafling some five or six times, but gradually my hearing became muffled. Sock convulsed one time and then went limp in my arms, his eyes still fixed on the stars.
My pulse beat heavily in my temple. The glowmin reappeared around us having sensed Sock’s death. One of them drew near to me, lifted one of Sock’s arms and sniffed. And suddenly the perimeter motion sensors alarmed, and Vivette fell out of her seat, running to the Sentinel to put the shields up and protect the cargo. Axiom stumbled out of his chair, whistling for the glowmin, and cursed himself for putting his knives away. I watched him disappear into the tall grass with a string of glowmin hurrying after him.
The surrounding area quickly dimmed in the absence of the glowmin, and I carried Sock’s body over to the pup cage. I knelt and put his body inside knowing his corpse needed protection.
I walked into the darkness towards the north perimeter fence. It emitted a faint white light in the distance. When I reached it, I stood and scanned the area. Out on the beach red eyes of predators reflected in the starlight, bobbing in and out of the tide. A pair of scorchcakes [a pancake-like mollusk] marked a single point of burning light on the beach. 
No predators appeared on my kopad. I checked the atmosphere above us for any ship activity, which was completely clear. On my way back to the Sentinel, I saw Axiom standing with his hands on his knees. As I got closer, I realized he was breathing hard from running. The glowmin had all dispersed.
“What happened?” I asked him.
“Hell of a strange thing!” Axiom yelled. “Just ran right through camp! Knocked everything over—just flailing its big arms—" he said several things, something about damages, and then finally shook my shoulder. “Thistle, are you listening?!”
“Ye-yes.”
“It was one of those huge white bastards—what are they called—you know what I mean? The one that attracts spectralids!”
“You mean a mamuta?” I asked. [a heart-shaped creature with arms and legs]
“Yes! It even ran through the campfire. It had to have injured itself. I’ve never seen anything like this.”
I walked to the campfire. Logs and rocks were tossed in all directions, footprints of embers led some fifteen feet away before smoldering. The picnic table had been upturned; the umbrella was smashed.
“Ehhh,” I muttered. Axiom didn’t hear me. He’d already marched over to the ship and banged his fist repeatedly on the hull door shouting at Vivette to lift the shields. He’d yell something, then mutter something, then yell again—it became apparent Vivette was scared and would not come out.
I glanced at the pup cage. Sock’s red body was dimly visible in the starlight. I checked my kopad again, but the map was blank. My mind began turning—Klark had warned me that some things failed to appear on our electronics. Could it be the bulblax migration?
I fetched a pale of water and doused the remaining embers, wondering about this predicament. For a mamuta to tear through camp—not attacking but fleeing—indicated prey behavior.
Predators on PNF-404 did not attack each other for food unless driven to in desperation. This was a law of nature—herbivores provided nutrients from their diet—something a predator could not get from consuming other predators.
Standing there, hands on my hips, I saw a green haze pulsating out in the dunes. The glowmin had pursued something…
“I’m going out, Axiom,” I yelled to him.
At that moment, Axiom received an incoming call on his kopad. “Everything happens at the same time,” he growled. He pointed a finger at me, said, “Don’t do anything stupid, Thistle. I mean it.”
At least he hadn’t called me feral.
I switched on my headlamp, hurried into the dunes. An aurora of green illuminated the sky again and then faded—too far away. I shuffled down an incline, still looking up at the sky, and fell halfway down.
I got up and got going again. Two minutes of running. Nothing. Tremors in the earth. Then I stumbled, looked back and forth while my headlamp lit up the ground—an erratic pattern of swipes and pitfalls were visible in the sand.
“The mamuta,” I whispered. It had tried pounding something into the sand using its massive arms. Usually this buried pikmin, and then they needed to be plucked.
I glanced forward, and my headlamp shown on a glowmin just as it disappeared into the grass. I followed it, crossed a dried stream bed surrounded by wollyhops—their red eyes glowed in the darkness. [pibald-colored frogs]
“Ehhh,” I groaned. One of the frogs rubbed its forearms together. “Shit.” It hopped—I bolted toward the grass—and then I was airborne. A creature carried me by my legs letting me hang upside down while it hovered in the air. Its wings made a racket of buzzing—I writhed against its grasp and then it threw me down hard into the sand. [swooping snitchbug—a flying insect with long green arms]
My vision spun. My kopad alerted as my suit took damage from the impact. The snitchbug divebombed for me again, tried to take me up, but I broke its grasp and fell. I army-crawled into the nearby grass hearing the loud buzzing trailing behind me.
I waited. The snitchbug cast a shadow from the starlight as it patrolled above me. Then it swooped again and captured a glowmin, but the glowmin evaporated from its claws.
I made my way through the blades of grass until they thinned. Then before me I saw a bare field littered with leafy bases. These I recognized instantly—they were the remains of used-up candypop buds. They were a natural resource during harvesting that allowed us to throw five pikmin into a flower head, which then chemically changed the breed of pikmin.
But all of these candypop buds had been used. I knelt to examine one of the leafy bases, and movement caught my eye—several redmin crawled out from under a scallop shell and made a run for the grasses.
I blared my whistle, but the redmin did not respond and disappeared. To my right, the sky illuminated with green light. Glowmin rained down slowly, advanced on the remaining candypop buds and—to my astonishment—began destroying them. I whistled at them to stop.
They froze, their misshapen blue eyes regarding me with… confusion? Aggression? More of them came down from the sky appearing out of thin air, and they gravitated toward me.
“What is going on?” I asked them.
And in the next moment they came together forming a glowmob of their own volition.
“Stop, stop, don’t—!” I shouted.
The proceeding shockwave wiped out the candypop field, sent me flying backward into a wall of rocks, cracking my helmet.
For some reason, I did not feel afraid this time around; through my blurred vision I saw a multitude of hairline cracks. I heard only my kopad alerting, and then nothing.
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karingottschalk · 2 years ago
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Deadly Mould Attacks Yet Another Camera Accessory with Leather Trim After Wiping Out Thousands of Dollars' Worth of Camera Bags, Backpacks, Straps & More
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