Wow, this is a long time no see, is it not? :) I hope you enjoy this slightly angsty story. I will post an update about my life in a few days, I promise!! <3 

- 

Namjoon looked up from the documents he was frowning at as a knock sounded on his door. When he saw you slipping into his office and clicking the lock behind you, he couldn’t help but smile, already leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs slightly, a clear invitation to take a seat. You did so with a Cheshire grin on your face, hand immediately smoothing down the strands of Joon’s hair, quite uselessly. You’re about to mess them up soon, either way.“Report,” his voice rumbled playfully, large palms settling over your hips, dragging you closer to him so your chests pressed together.

“Time for your mandatory break, leader,” you played along, thumb swiping against the bags under Joon’s eyes in a nurturing manner. The chest pressed up against yours shook with laughter, and Joon slid his hands up your body to cup at your cheeks and pull you in for a kiss that was long overdue.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment when you two became an item. You probably couldn’t even say when this began.

There was that one time the two of you couldn’t get back to the tower in time, a while ago when it was still necessary for every able-bodied individual to participate in runs. It was a mixture of adrenalin, fear of the future and the extreme need to be held that had the two of you reaching for each other like people starved.

After that, you had no talk about what you were. The two of you weren’t exactly a secret, Jungkook walked in on the two of you more than he’d like (hence the newly installed lock on Joon’s office door), but you weren’t as public about your relationship as Hobi and the Doctor.

This was enough for you, you settled with a little sigh as your lips molded against his, and you wiggled in Joon’s lap for comfort.

As you rubbed against him, Namjoon groaned deep in his throat, hands sliding down the expanse of your back to perch on your ass, swatting at it as you giggled at the rumbled “behave” that left his lips.

Namjoon led the tower with a firm hand, but it never slipped into dictatorship or terror as you had heard from other groups. He fairly often offered his position up for taking and consulted each decision with as many people as he could.

He was a good leader, fair, kind, but also able to make decisions a few would. He relied on the whole group, and he was a shoulder you could lean on when the night got a little too dark.

And that’s what you hoped you were to him at this point.

Many times Joon was the first one to rise and the last to sleep, hunched over maps of scavenged territories, scheduled runs, and inventory documents, trying to figure out the necessary steps that needed to be done. Even though he no longer participated in runs, he was still as active as he was before, when he was jumping from roof to roof.

You felt his body relax underneath you, the lazy smile that stretched over his lips evident as he trailed kisses down your neck. The tenseness of his shoulders disappeared under your touch, which you encouraged with a hum, gently grinding down into his crotch. Joon responded in kind, nipping at your neck in playful warning.

“If you keep this up, I won’t get back to work when I’m supposed to,” he warned and you laughed, scratching at his scalp.

“Oh my god, I would totally hate if you ended up kissing me all afternoon. Please don’t,” sarcasm heavy on your tongue, you laughed when Joon sent another swat to your ass.

You dipped down to kiss him once more, when you suddenly felt your skin vibrate in something you hadn’t experienced in a while. You couldn’t have been imagining it, because Joon tensed up as well, brows furrowing as he tried to locate the source of the sound.

As if a switch went off, it both came to you at the same time and you few off his lap, ripping the door open as Joon grabbed at the radio, ordering all runners to find near shelters and get out of sight.

From the windows, you saw the military truck, mounted with numerous blades, spikes and spears which were getting overwhelmingly weighed under by the mass of dead bodies that blindly followed the booming music resonating from the two venue sized speakers on top of the truck.

All the masses of undead had flown to the source of disturbance, looking like ants from the top of the building. With how loud the truck was, you knew it was not only the walkers that were coming, but also the rabid virals that were much quicker.

You reached the entrance to the tower out of breath and turned on the electric traps while grabbing at the radio stationed near the two alert guards.

“The entrance is armed, I repeat, the entrance is armed,” you huffed, trying to catch your breath.

“Do NOT return to the tower,” but you watched with mouth agape as someone sprinted around the corner, two virals on their trail. Before you could say anything, the person launched themselves in the air, somersaulting over the electrified fence and landing in the rubble on the other side.

The mindless zombies ran straight into the trap, and before they could attempt to flee, their nerves were charred and the smell of rotten burning flesh got in the air.

Quickly shaking off, the runner rose and climbed the barricades to safety. Jungkook was bleeding from where he cut his palms as he landed in the rubble, and he had a smaller gash on his forehead, but other than that he was fairly okay, and it was okay for you to smack him up the side of his head for scaring the soul out of you, something you just told him. Jungkook grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

“Sorry, noona,” he murmured, wiping at his bloodied brow. “The tower was the closest safehouse for me.”

“And the one near the van?” you handed out the melee weapons to the two guards- after the drama with the girl who saved Yoongi’s life, guns were forbidden by the entrance, replaced by spiked bats, axes and machetes.

“It’s overrun. Some of the virals smashed through the front entrance and there were already some walkers in there.” your heart dropped as you heard this. Before you could ask, Jungkook beat you to it.

“None of ours were there. I checked it out and cleaned some of the walkers when the two virals saw me.” you sighed out in relief, walking over to the windows. The music was harder to hear now, slowly going farther away, leaving behind empty streets. The further away the car was, the more runners began to check in.

Hope was just fine, monitoring the situation from the nearby watchtowers. Yoongi took the opportunity to practice his aim and test out of well his homemade silencer worked.

And when you looked over at Jungkook, he had a look on his face as if he was the king of the world. His smugness and the amount of injuries on him didn’t match him just escaping two virals.

You eyed him warily.

“What did you do?” he shook the backpack in his hand, before throwing it to you.

“Finally got there.” your heart got stuck in your throat as you wasted no time in ripping it open, eyes almost glittering in happiness at the amount of pills that spilled out.

“You didn’t!” you exclaimed and immediately rummaged through it, checking what he got. Painkillers, cough drops, anti-inflammatory pills, disinfectants, numerous bandages at the bottom, and so much more.

“I wasn’t quite sure what to take, so I just got the basics. When hyung writes me a list, I’ll go back at take some more.”

“Did you keep it open?” Jungkook shook his head.

“Lured in two walkers and then locked the door. Covered it with some rubble, just like I found it. I hid some things that seemed to look important away and ransacked the place, so it looks like it’s been raided. Tried to do more, but I heard the music.” Jungkook frowned, but nevertheless you threw your arms around his neck, hugging him tight. You knew how low you were running on some specific medicine, and just this backpack stocked you up for weeks.

“You’re a hero, Kookie,” you cooed, pulling back to press a kiss against the smudged cheek. Underneath the soot, you could see the blush shining through as a tiny giggle escaped his lips.

“Ah, noona…” he mumbled in embarrassment, wiping at his forehead. The wound didn’t look very dangerous, but you still took it up to pull out one of the disinfectants Jungkook scavenged to clear it out. The two of you shuffled away from the entrance, leaving the two guards to peer over the ledge and make sure no stray walkers found their way inside.

“So, you saw the van even before?” you asked as you soaked a piece of cloth with the alcohol. Jungkook winced before he nodded.

“Yeah, they went down the main road. There was quite a bit of walkers behind them, because of the music. The women also shot at them, so it brought even more traffic in.”

“Women?” you jumped, not even realizing when Namjoon joined the two of you. Jungkook’s eyes twinkled as he looked up at his hyung, nodding.

“Yeah, they had assault rifles and also explosives. They threw some in the crowds every now and then, thinning the herd.”

“Did you recognize anyone there?” you gently pressed your thumb against the crease between Kook’s eyebrows, as he frowned in thought.

“I don’t think so. I’m not sure, they had these weird masks over their faces.”

“Masks?”

“Yeah, like red masks with a white hand over it? Remember Lord of the Rings, hyung? Something like that.” It was Namjoon’s turn to frown, his look souring. You reached out, grabbing at his hand in comfort, but the squeeze he returned was feeble at best.

“Damn,” he cursed, running a hand through his hair and biting at his lower lip in frustration.

“I gotta go.” your stomach dropped, as he turned on his heel, leaving both you and Kook staring after him in alarm. Both of you turned to look at each other, puzzled and confused. Torn between wanting to follow him and ask what’s going on and to stay behind and tend to Jungkook’s wound, you silently watched as Namjoon took the bare necessities and ordered the electric trap to be turned off, before he disappeared over the ledge, leaving the building.

“Where did he go, noona?”

You wished you could answer him.

-

It has been a while since Namjoon had gone out alone. It has been a while since he had gone out, period, but even when he did assign himself a run, the others made sure he would be accompanied by the more experienced runners. There was not much need for him to be with someone, anyways- the streets were almost cleared out completely. If there wasn’t as much rubble and occasional fires sprouting up, he could pretend as if no apocalypse happened in the first place.

The wind was blowing softly, ruffling through his hair and bringing the stench of death to his nostrils. The smell that would have made him puke just mere months ago now seems like something natural to him. He tenses only once the stench increases, signifying the approach of an enemy; luckily, he seems to be following the van’s tracks meticulously, because all the fast virals are gone, and only a straggler shuffling from inside appears here and there. Even so, he doesn’t take any chances and opts travelling on rooftops when possible.

He heard of the rumors, but he didn’t want to believe them. It seemed surreal, but seeing the van on his own eyes, and hearing Jungkook speak of the people using it confirmed his suspicions.

He travelled swiftly, jumping from one roof to another, using the ground only if absolutely necessary. There weren’t many walkers he offed, some stragglers who got stuck when the van passed their way, only now getting loose. He still had some time left before the sun went down, but he didn’t want to waste any chances.

The army base on the outskirts of town was said to be abandoned and overrun with dead soldiers. Since there is a theory that the sounder the body was before the infection, the more dangerous zombie it would create, people steered clear from the institution of possibly extremely agile undead shuffling about. The closer he got, the more disposed bodies appeared to be lying on the ground. Here and there, he saw crucified zombies, warning signs for the living to turn back, and yet he ignored them all. Normally, he wouldn’t so easily walk into a human settlement; just because his people and the tower were friendly didn’t mean that the others wanted to keep humanity afloat. He already heard of gangs overpowering smaller groups, of mafia hoarding the important supplies and trading them for guns or people. There was talk of human trafficking, of gladiator style games being set up where prisoners desperately fought against unleashed zombies without a weapon.

He might be making a grave mistake, Namjoon thought to himself, frowning, as he neared the reinforced gates of the institution. Already from afar, he could see at least three assault rifles pointed at him, the women wielding them growling at him to state the reason why he came. He came closer, hands in the air.

“Are you the Harpies?” Namjoon called out, trying to stay calm even though he knew his voice attracted potential undead lurking afar.

“What’s it to you?” one of the guards scoffed back, hoisting the gun higher up.

“I’m your leader’s husband.”

-

The headquarters of the Harpies was full of life, and mostly female. Since he was brought in, he has not seen a man, but instead was met by a horde of battle-toughened women who eyed him suspiciously. It wasn’t surprising; he wasn’t one of them. There was no white handprint on him, indicating his allegiance to the group. The placement of the handprint didn’t seem to be of importance: he saw it on the crown of a bald woman’s head, over clothing, printed over someone’s throat in a ghastly reminder of how the virus has society in a choke-hold.

Weapons also seemed to be heavily distributed amongst the members. There was not a single woman without some kind of weapon, be it an assault rifle all the way down to a knife strapped over the waist.

After patting him down and disposing of his weapons (“We might give them back…if we don’t forget,” crooned the guard with a sly grin as she slid his handgun from the holster hidden under his shirt), Namjoon was led down the hangar, instructed to keep his eyes forward. He seemed to attract attention; did they think of him as a hostage? Did he freely turn himself over to the enemy, the sudden thought came to his head. What if they would hold him hostage and blackmail the tower for pharmaceutics or food? A weight suddenly set over his shoulders. He and Yoongi had a mutual understanding on how to deal with situations like these; calmly assess if the price is adequate. If not, see if there is a different way to get one of them out. If not, establish a shrine of remembrance for the fallen comrade, because having one dead is better than dozens. You flashed through his mind just as he reached the end of the hangar, and the door to the former commander’s office opened.

A woman stood with her back to him, pondering over a huge map which spread all over one wall. Her hair slicked back, held in a tight braid.

“Boss, there is some guy who says he knows you,” came the introduction from one of the guards. Immediately, the woman scoffed.

“Who the fuck has the balls to come over he-” and as she turned and sighted Namjoon, her grumbling cut off, the frown on her face replaced by a ghost of a smile he had remembered from before.

“Namjoon,” she breathed out, waving the guards away with a flick of her wrist. Her voice. It still haunts him in his dreams sometimes, calling out for him. And he usually wakes up, the presence of her name on his lips.

“Mina.”

-

There were three hours left before the sun came down, and yet you still couldn’t stop pacing. Namjoon broke the most vital rules one has to abide when they go out: always say where you’re going and have some kind of communication channel on you. Namjoon broke both, and it was unlike him, and it freaked you out.

You tried to entertain yourself by doing other tasks; bringing Jungkook up to the doctor to make sure there were no other injuries on him, before dumping him off at his room to rest. You then took his bag over to Seokjin, who almost wept with happy tears at the sight of so many necessary medicines being dumped on his desk. You catalogued all of them and then made changes on the roster of most vital items the runners had to keep their eyes out for. It did put your mind somewhat at ease, knowing that there were so many items taken off there, and that there is a place where you can go and restock.

That made you call up Jimin and one more runner, marking the pharmacy on their maps and sending them off to see if they can find other necessary items. There was still enough time, as the pharmacy was shockingly close. How could they have missed it?

On your way back from assigning their run, you passed by Yoongi and the girl who rescued him; she recently underwent restorative surgery to have her ankle put back into place, which rendered her basically immobile. The senior runner took it up to help her get from spot A to B. You were glad to see that she is getting used to the tower. Being in isolation for so long can seriously harm a human being, but she is slowly making progress to grow more accustomed to the life here. The kids seem to help- they like her voice and so she and Yoongi make bedtime reading rounds every now and then, reading from the frayed books that were left behind by former residents. Thinking about children had you turning on your heel, walking over to the Teacher. She has been quiet on supplies for a while, especially because Donghun always seemed to scoff at any supplies she asked for. You didn’t agree with him- school was necessary even in times like this, to teach the children basic facts about the world, and to give them a semblance of what normal life looked like.

At first she resisted, affirming she needs nothing new, but seeing that the walls of the make-shift classroom have doodles all over them confirmed that they do need some sort of paper, and maybe if they were lucky, some arts and crafts supplies to keep the children busy. You also took note of her state; it seemed to be a struggle for her to get up from the floor, and the cushion probably isn’t cutting it anymore as a good seat. You will soon need diapers and possible baby formula.

You visited the doctor afterwards, mentioning the new possible addition to the tower, and asked her if there are any specific items she will need for the procedure. As Joon still didn’t turn on his radio or tracker, you had nowhere to be and the initial check-up for the vital things for birthing turned into an inventory checkup of the medical resources. Even though the whole tower voluntarily gave it up in favor of disinfectants, you found out that you were running low on alcohol, and you immediately informed the current runners outside to swipe up whatever hard liquor they could get their hands on. Jimin just sent you a message, informing you on their trip to  the pharmacy- they found everything on the list and more, but still decided to stock up on medicine the tower already had an abundance of - if needed, they could trade it for other material in the long run.

The sun was already low on the horizon as you left the doctor’s office. With a shaky hand, you raised the radio to your lips, voice so unsure you almost couldn’t let a sound out.

“Joon?” his name got swallowed by the static, and the more you listened to the gritty sound of nothingness coming back at you, taunting you, the more your heart tightened in fear. What is happening?

-

Namjoon would never expect to meet her again in these circumstances; her offering him tea in her great office. Despite being a leader, it was evident that Mina was out on the van mission as well. Her arms, already blackened by new tattoos that ran from her shoulders down to her wrists in bold strikes, had blood splattered all over them. She followed his gaze, smirking.

“Sorry about that,” she said nonchalantly, as she wiped down a bit of brain matter from her bicep. “Didn’t get enough time to get ready.” Giving up on her task, she dropped the towel in a nearby bin, sitting back in her chair.

“I wasn’t expecting company, you know.” To this, Namjoon chuckled himself. “To be quite honest, I didn’t think I would be going around making visits either.” it was strange, seeing her like this, so familiar and yet so strange. The face staring at him was the first thing he saw in the morning for many days, and yet looking at her now didn’t evoke the same giddiness of love as it had before.

He was filled with apprehension. He felt like he was locked inside a cage with a sleeping tiger, not knowing whether he fed or not.

“Your van stirred up quite a bit of trouble for us.” Mina nodded, lifting her legs to rest them on her desk. “Yeah, we usually don’t go down there, but we noticed an increased number of walkers.” Her striking eyes pierced his, and the breath stuttered in his chest. Even though he felt like he didn’t know her, Mina was still beautiful.

“Was it from you?”

“No. We are keeping a good job at staying whole.” at in that moment, as something flashed through Mina’s eyes, he knew he shouldn’t have said that. Something along the lines of pain flickered in them, but it was gone as quickly as it came. Mina gave him a wry smile.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Silence spread among them; nobody quite knew what to say. If he still had it, Namjoon would’ve been fidgeting with his wedding band at that moment. But that comfort was lost in the apocalypse.

“And so, what are you doing here?” Mina snapped from her thoughts, a smile spreading across her face.

“The world evidently has gone to shit, Namjoon. It has been months, and there has been no outside contact from any government institution. There has been no cure for the bite, apart from immediate amputation if a limb was the source of the disease.” Kicking away from her desk, Mina stood up, walking over to the large map painted on the wall. Namjoon took it as an invitation to join her, studying the various symbols spread across the area of the town.

“At this point, we don’t operate under the presumption that the people might get better. We expect things will just go downhill from now on. And we need to start cleaning up.” Namjoon’s stomach dropped at her final sentence. The purge, something Namjoon strongly opposed and tried to stop, is going to happen. He looked up from the map to stare at his former wife’s profile, somewhat stunned. How a woman who was adamant about leading the ants out of their kitchen instead of killing them could lean over a map of the city they built their life in and actively plan to get rid of their neighbors, their co-workers, their…

The door slammed open and a woman with a smile that could light up the room entered. Mina’s head snapped up and she grinned fully at the newcomer, opening her arms, which the woman took as an invitation to jump into her embrace. Her movements were so full of life, so active, Namjoon only later noticed that her arm was crudely cut at the elbow, something that did not seem to slow her down in the slightest. The white handprint went over the stump from where her forearm would grow.

Namjoon choked at his spit when his former wife and the newcomer shared a kiss, this being the first time they saw each other since Mina returned from the vehicle mission. Not knowing what to do, Namjoon screened the room, trying to find something, anything he could keep his eyes on while his wife greeted her lover. Hearing her chuckle, he turned to her, a sly grin throning on her face. With one arm still wrapped around her lover’s waist, she pointed to the area around her neck with a suggestive lifted eyebrow.

“I see you’ve also been busy in your tower, Joon.” red seeped into his cheeks as he pressed down on the new bruise you left behind, and the thought of your earlier escapades made his stomach clench with guilt. He left without telling anyone his whereabouts, without checking in. There was still a couple of hours left for him to return, he analyzed as he looked out the window. It was only after Mina spoke that her lover seemed to have acknowledged his presence.

“Darling, this is Namjoon. He leads a group downtown.” She tilted her head in curiosity.

“So you met during the raid today?” Mina laughed at the same time as Namjoon smiled.

“No, we’ve known each other even before the apocalypse. He probably saw our mark and it reminded him of me.” Mina hit the nail on its head. He still remembers the white handprints on the red wall, ones he had passed every time he went to work. Her lover laughed, shaking her head.

“What did you come here to do, Namjoon? Are you here to trade?”

The handprints on the wall stood out, blooming from the bottom, and crowning out into a tree. Namjoon’s bigger palmprint was always complemented with Mina’s slender fingers.

He shook his head. “I came to offer a chance to merge groups.” Mina, whose smile was still civil up to that point, turned sour. With a tightening of her arm, she pulled her lover back to her, pressing a firm kiss to her temple.

“Hyeri, love. Can you give us some privacy? I’ll tell you everything tonight.” Hyeri, seemingly sensing something important from her lover, nodded in understanding. She returned the gesture, kissing the tip of Mina’s nose, which made her giggle slightly, before taking leave.  

The tree seemed to travel through the history of their relationship. Some palm prints would hold small keepsakes, such as the movie tickets of their first date, an old key to the first apartment they rented together, pictures of them with their families, friends…

As the door clicked shut, Mina’s gaze turned cold.

“You want to collaborate with the Harpies?” her voice was unlike the one he knew for so many years, and it made a shiver run down his spine.

“We have many doctors,” he tried to appease the anger in the woman’s face. “Scientists even, ones that are working on trying to find a cure…”

“And have they been successful?” she cut him off, leaning back against the wall. Only then he saw that the wall was covered with pictures of women. Some had a red “X” placed over them. Namjoon knew very well what that meant.

The tree trunk continued with pictures from their wedding. He still vividly remembers the feeling of the day, but the visual aspect of it disappeared in the smoke of the destroyed city. The pictures are still probably stuck to the wall, back in their own apartment, with everything else that makes his heart tug in pain.

“No…I mean, n-not yet, but they could be! Mina, those are our people out there.”

“They’re not.” Mina’s glare was stone-cold, and if he did not see the white of her knuckles, he would have thought this was easy for her to speak of.

Their wedding pictures were followed by pictures of house renovations. They bought a run-down apartment near the center of town, and it took a while and many pain-filled days to mold the place in what they hoped would be the home that they would grow old in. It was in a great location; supermarkets were nearby, the public transport was a minute away, parks were near, bordering with a kinder garden.

“They’re not our people. If you need to tell yourself that to appease your survivor’s guilt, I completely understand that. But they stopped being human the second their eyes turned grey and they reached out to bite at you.” Namjoon clenched his jaw, looking away from his former wife.

The following pictures on the family tree were of Namjoon and Mina looking bright and happy. Pictures of Mina’s body. A black and white grainy picture which only doctors could decipher but held so much happiness.

“Everybody deals with this pandemic their way, Joon. I cannot sit around and try to keep my women safe, knowing that every day there is more of them and less of us. I need to work on trying to give my people a sense of fulfillment, and if it is by killing the monsters and ensuring our safety, so be it. If it is marked with the price of some of mine dying or losing limbs in the fight, so be it.”

The bundle of sheets held the most precious treasure of them all, and it hung from the family tree as a valuable fruit. And the two types of handprints would be joined by another.

“What if it is reversible?” he found that he couldn’t speak aloud. The words were as fragile as his belief in them, just barely above a whisper.

“What if we can bring back all those that are suffering at this point?”

“And what if we can’t, Namjoon? What if they keep mutating, and there will be a tipping point where they will overpower us?”

He still remembers the days when he would play fight with her. Where he would act as if the tiny hands pushing at his calf were strong enough to topple him down. He would still wake up in a sweat, shivering as he dreamt of a dark lake where the same small hands were pulling him under.

“I don’t think I can go around and systematically kill them all, Mina…what about…what about us?” his eyes held too much pain, and it made Mina step up to him and cup his face in her palm. The way she brushed under his eye made him almost believe none of this happened. It almost made him believe that she just woke him up to coax him to a breakfast and then work. He almost didn’t want to open his eyes.

He saw them. He saw Mina, holding their daughter. He saw his firm, he saw his colleagues still alive, he saw him and Yoongi drinking beers by the river. He almost thought all of this was just a horrid, horrid nightmare.

But then he opened his eyes, and he was still standing in Mina’s office. He saw Mina, eyes full of pain and inherent understanding that there might not be another time they meet. Her hand slid down to his neck, brushing against the hickey that you left behind, and her eyes filled with tears. The last time he saw her crying was when she left him, running off with the protype version of the harpies. The last time he saw her crying…

“Our relationship died when our daughter reached out for me with the intention to kill instead of love.” her voice cracked. Something broke in him, and he gathered Mina in his arms. He embraced his wife. The woman that he studied with, dated with, fell in love with. He held tight both the woman who gave birth to their only child and killed it away three years later.

“I will die trying to kill them all, Joon.” The hug couldn’t have lasted more than mere minutes, but it felt like hours. When Mina pulled away from him, she wiped at her eyes viciously. Turning towards the window, she took a deep breath, and Namjoon could see how she visibly tried to hide all the pain behind the wall of hatred she built. The sun was almost down. He had less than an hour to get back, and he felt tired. So, so tired.

“If you need the help of the Harpies, we will be there. In return, we do expect your help in regards with medical assistance if one of us falls ill. However, we prefer death to undeath.”

She turned to him, and he no longer saw his wife.

“If you see me stumbling around the town, Namjoon…please, kill me. I don’t want to be them.”

“I’m really sorry, Mina. I…” I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t want us to end this way, on the opposite spectrum of life. I didn’t want to leave the body of our only child underneath the tree of memories we grew for ourselves.

All these words were stuck in his throat and didn’t want to leave, and yet Mina understood them all. She smiled at him sadly, secretly glad he did not continue.

“I know, Namjoon. You should go, before the sun falls down.”

She led him down the compound, and returned his weapons, as promised. As he turned to say goodbye to his wife, he saw Hyeri standing on the side. She reciprocated his small nod with a wave of her hand.

“Good luck, Mina.”

“Stay safe, Namjoon.”

—-

The tower was already lit up in evening mode. People were slowly heading off to bed, already used to the schedule organized by the sun. Guards changed for the evening, every runner that was scheduled to be on a run returned. All their loot was put into inventory and new lists were made up for the next day. The children were all washed and put into beds. Some of the doctors were already sleeping, preparing themselves for the potential crisis that could happen in the middle of the night.

And yet there was one person still unaccounted for. One person because of which you still didn’t turn on the UV light traps.

The sun was already behind the mountains, but the skies were light. There were still a few minutes left before the light would die out and the monsters would come out to hunt the unsuspecting victims.

You were sitting at the edge of the entrance to the tower, legs swinging nervously. A machete lay across your lap and you tested your grip on it every now and then, feeling the weight of it in your hand. Would you be able to do it if the necessity rose up?

The radio was still silent. Namjoon probably didn’t even take it with him, so it turned out to be useless at this point. The only thing that was left for you was to wait for him and trust him to come home. The urgency with which he left…it was something that he could not postpone, and something he had to deal with, no doubt. But why did he not tell you?

It wasn’t as if you were together together. You were fooling around, were you not? But why did you feel as if your heart were about to jump out of your chest and shatter on the floor when you thought of him getting hurt? Where was he?

“___.” deep in your thoughts, you didn’t hear him step over the rubble. With a loud gasp and a sob lodging in your throat, you jumped down to meet him, hands flying over his body to ensure that it is indeed him, and he indeed returned in one, unbitten piece.

“Namjoon! Where did you— what did you…” the tears streamed down your face with no control at this point, and you only did freeze when you felt something drop on the hand resting on his chest. Your skin was unblemished, so it was not blood.

Namjoon was silently crying, gripping you hard as if someone was about to snatch you away from him. His chest shook with held back sobs, and your heart broke to see him like this.

Leaning up on the tips of your toes, you pressed a deep kiss against his plush lips. You slowly helped him get up the barricades, bypass the guards and their questioning looks. You made sure the tower was secure and the night defenses were in place.

Afterwards, you led him to his room. Helped him strip down, wash off the dust and the tears from his broken face. Held him when he couldn’t anymore, and after he calmed down, led him to his bedroom, holding him so tight, wishing you could protect him from all the evil in the world.

As the two of you lay in bed, you thought the exhaustion and tears pushed him to sleep, however when you tried to wiggle out from underneath him, he held you tighter.

“Stay.” he rumbled quietly, slowly sitting up, pulling you up with him. He heaved a big sigh, running a hand through his damp hair.

“Is…is everything alright?” Namjoon shook his head in response, grabbing at your hand and squeezing it.

“There…there is something I need to tell you.” he played with your fingers, looking down at your hands. Bringing them up to his lips, he kissed at your fingertips gently.

“A…a story. About myself. About…why I left today.” you nodded in understanding, returning the affection by peppering kisses to the hand you brought up to your face.

“It’s a long story,” he warned, but you shook your head, dismissing his worries. He stared at you for a bit longer, before reaching over to the nightstand, pulling out several objects. They scattered between the two of you.

A photo of a couple, a suede ring box, and a strand of hair in a little bag. You watched the things, trying to piece them together.

“Before all of this, I was married. Her name was Mina, and we met in university. Shortly after graduating, we moved into our first house and within the first year of living together, Mina gave birth to our daughter. We were very happy; years flew by and they felt like days. That all changed when the sickness came.”

Your OTP infected by a zombie virus (or any deadly affliction). As they hold each other, knowing the window to live is closing, Person A reaches into their pocket. Before Person B can react, A jabs the cure into B’s arm and smiles, apologizing for giving B the lastantidote.

Summer@aftgexchangefor@neil-jortson

I made a zombie AU illustration featuring Andrew, Renee, and Neil for my exchange piece! Zombies are definitely out of my comfort zone but this ended up being really fun to work on. I gotta admit … I especially like how Andrew turned out. OuO’

** DO NOT REPOST OR EDIT MY WORK **

deadserver:

About Dead Server

Welcome, Survivors

Dead Server will be a role play featuring original characters on Discord.

Premise: One morning you wake up ready to go to work or class (you may decide where you are); when a horrific reality hits you: the world is ending, zombies roam around your dorm/home/work.

Format: Messenger and story mode. (Will also include a somewhat D&D gameplay for story mode where players will gamble for their scene development).

Duration: Between 1 month and 1 month and half.

If sending your OC’s (2 max per player) into an apocalyptic world sounds appealing to you, we are accepting applications.

To avoid it being too crowded we are accepting a maximum of 10 people for this round (future rounds are a possibility if we get too many applications). Everyone must be 18 or over in order to be accepted.

☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️

Warning: Adult situations as well as triggering scenarios will take place in this RP - think carefully before joining.

☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️☣️

To apply, please introduce yourself to our zombies by filling out this form. They will select their foo- errr, their players.

Catch you later!!

(unless they catch you first)

art for our lovely @gnarf!

it’s your birthday today, and I hope that my gift will bring you joy <3

for everyone else who hasn’t done so yet: go treat yourself with season one of

At the End of Our World on AO3

apost-apocalyptic zombie/inferi story (explicit | 61K words) by gnarf with an intriguing plot, amazing characters and even more art, created by noone less than the one and only gnarf herself.

you will also find the art at the very end of season 1 (in better quality than tumblr allows). thanks to @ladderofyears for cheering me on!

Feng and Jake outfits for the zombie au which, again, I’ll probably never write

Feng has yet to find pants in her size

Dbd but like. What if zombies instead

Featuring Feng and Jake and also some picture of Washington I used

Hey Brother (1/3)

The apocalypse has been going on for less than a year. Kids aren’t the best at keeping track of time but this one is.

Purpled is shuffled between groups because he’s quick at picking skills up and usually a good asset. Purpled was bored and asked to leave going East. He’s taking a walk and decided to follow a stream.

Another dsmp member will appear next update ;)